Two accidents in 44 years

Madam Gyere started driving a car in 1969 and she said in the 44 years since then, she has been involved in only two road accidents. That means she crashed a car on average once every 22 years. I was wondering; if every Nigerian motorist will crash a car only once in 22 years, most […]

Madam Gyere started driving a car in 1969 and she said in the 44 years since then, she has been involved in only two road accidents. That means she crashed a car on average once every 22 years. I was wondering; if every Nigerian motorist will crash a car only once in 22 years, most of our mechanics and panel beaters will be redundant. Huge spare parts markets such as Kaduna’s Panteka may have to close down for lack of buyers or suppliers. The effects will be felt well beyond Nigeria because all the Belgian workshops that strap and cobble together the tokunbo cars that they send here by the shiploads will have to fold up. It is a very good scenario to behold if you are not a mechanic, a spare parts dealer, a tokunbo car smuggler or a VIO.
I tried to compare this angelic woman’s road safety record with my own pathetic one. In order to dress up my own record, I borrowed a leaf from President Bill Clinton’s parsing of words during the Monica Lewinsky scandal. I thought, “It depends on what you mean by accident.” I first drove a car in 1979 when I sneaked up to where my elder brother Ibrahim left the keys and soon zoomed off. I had been riding motorcycles since 1976 and I thought the principle was the same; is it not controlling the head, engaging gears, releasing the clutch and reaching for the brakesif necessary? All other things are additives such as the colouriser in Coca Cola.
I had my first accident in August 1982 whenthe luxurious bus I was travelling in to Onitsha skidded off a bridge at Gwagwalada and dived into the river. Four months later, I was going to Sokoto from Kaduna when the Hiace bus I was travelling in somersaulted several times at Giwa and came to rest on my right leg. Another four years later, my friends and I were riding in a borrowed Volkswagen Beetle car in Sokoto when a police Peugeot 505 Station Wagon dangerously overtook another car at high speed and we had a head-on collision. That one cost me a four months’ stay at Dala Orthopaedic Hospital in Kano. In July 2010, my brother and I were returning to Abuja from Sokoto when the tyre of a commercial vehicle burst just as it was overtaking us at Katari. It rammed into the side of our car and sent us spiralling into the bush.
Now, the major difference between those four episodes and Madam Tasalla’s accidents is this: I was not at the driver’s wheel on any of those occasions. That’s why I said it depends on what you mean by accident! But of course I had some brushes of my own while I was at the wheel. In the course of bumper-to-bumper urban driving, I “kissed” several cars in different towns.For good measure, I was also “kissed” by several people. What follows such incidents depends on who is involved. Your biggest nightmare is to kiss a taxi or commercial bus, even if it suddenly crossed your path or stopped without any signal, as they very often do. You must pay for the repair because the taxi driver will come out wailing, saying his master will not condone this. On the other hand, if you are kissed by a taxi or a commercial bus, you must forgive because the driver will sprawl on the ground and beg you, saying he has no money to repair your car.
As for real accidents while I was at the wheel, there was the episode at Bakura Junction, Zamfara State, in December 2007 when I ran into a herd of goats. A huge she-goat lumbered onto the highway just as I approached and the whole herd took off after her. Before I could say “road safety”, my front bumper, braille, radiator, headlights and wheel covers were flying in all directions. I saw three goats lying by the roadside. And yes, there was the worst one when I knocked down a child near Shagari in July 1998. They were cutting grass by the roadside when it started raining and in the blink of an eye, several boys darted onto the highway, trying to reach their village on the other side. So, compared to Madam Tasalla, my driving record will not win any international or even local awards.
How did she chuck up this stellar safety record? Madam Tasalla said she maintains speeds of 70-80kms per hour even when travelling between towns. Now, considering that most road accidents these days are caused by over-speeding, I think her snail slow pace is any driver’s surest survival bet. Whatever it is that happens on the road—a darting goat, a reckless overtake, a sudden pothole, a broken down articulated truck, an accident scene—a driver would be able to avoid it if he or she is moving at Mrs. Gyere’s speed. Yet, as her interviewer pointed out, too slow a speed in the face of many over speeding vehicles could also be a traffic hazard. A common sign on American highways is “Minimum Speed” while in Nigeria,all you ever see is “Maximum Speed.” Mrs. Gyere’sself-imposed speed limit reminded me of Alhaji Alallaba, who used to drive a small commercial bus between Farfaru and Kasuwa Yar Dole in Sokoto in the early 1970s. Alallaba’s taxi was so slow that children could run on foot and overtake it.
Slow speed practitioner, Mrs. Gyere also spoke of the need to install gadgets on our highways that will help to apprehend violators of speed limits and other traffic rules. She also spoke about impatience as the bane of Nigerian road traffic culture. The spoilt kids of wealthy parents are a big road hazard here but asfar as I can see, the single biggest hazard of Nigerian big city traffic is the attitude of taxi and commercial bus drivers. It often looks to me like impatience comes naturally to a taxi driver. He regards every split second as vital because another taxi could beat him to the next passenger. As such, he is ready to do every unimaginable thing including stopping and moving at the same time; speeding past other cars only to come to a sudden stop immediately afterwards; total impatience at road injunctions; as well as careering into the other lane when there is a hold up in his own lane and pushing the other lane’s owners off the road.
Madam Tasalla also talked about mechanics. Aagh! That’s another kettle of fish. Anyway, I blame recent improvements in situations, notably the office that gave me a steady stream of new cars in recent years and the brother who lent me a Prado Jeep.The combined deleterious effect of these happy events is that I have lost my once vaunted knowledge of auto mechanics. In the 1980s when I was a young university lecturer, many of my colleagues came to me for advice whenever they “could not understand” their cars. I will patiently listen to the creaking sound of my client’s car and make a diagnosis. Maybe the fan belt was cut. Often it is a leaking radiator or a burnt fan causing overheating. Or it is a kick starter’s bushings, brushes, housing, armature or Solenoid switch. It could be a slipped engine seat; shock absorber, universal joint, ball joint, lower arm, centre canbar, master cylinder, master siphon, brake pad, brake linings, brake disc, plugs, shaft, release bearing, injector, coil, battery, rings, piston or the crank shaft.