Hey guys, if you read my last post, you’d remember I talked about sharing my Near Death Experience with y’all; so here it goes…
I had just concluded the NYSC camp (national youth service Corp), a mandatory regimented camp for everyone that just graduated from a higher institution and wanted to work in Nigeria.
Next day, which was the 13th of December 2017, my plan was to go to the NYSC secretariat for documentation, then head over to Ondo state, Akure (my hometown) to rest a bit before going to Port-harcourt, Rivers state.
It started out well; I got to the secretariat, did everything required which didn’t take up to 20 minutes; I was glad because it meant I’d get home earlier than I anticipated.
I wasn’t quite familiar with this state so I stopped a bike man and asked him to take me to the nearest Car park. Where he dropped me was quite isolated, a resting lounge with a wooden chair and a small roof was by the road side for travelers to sit, just one car was left and luckily or not luckily for me, the car was heading to my destination.
So I’d like you guys to pay good attention from here on. I wore my full ceremonial NYSC kit so they (the driver and his negotiator) recognized I was a corper (someone in the regimented scheme) and started whining me, talking about how fuel was expensive but I noticed they were hastily trying to reach a certain price so we could leave the area.
I always pay great attention to detail so I checked out the other passengers, (two older women with their luggage in the car already).
A guy on a white traditional attire was standing by the road side backing us, like he was looking for a taxi going his way but he didn’t want to board this transport (that’s weird); well, immediately I paid, the assistant negotiator took my bags and dropped them in the trunk. I stood up and entered the front seat thinking we’d just go and maybe pick up another passenger by the road but guess what happened?
Immediately I entered the car, both the driver and his assistant negotiator entered and drove off. Let’s pause here for a minute.
—I was not the only passenger, because he had to pick the other ladies at the park too; I also assumed, okay, maybe he was going to pick the guy on white that was standing behind but no, he drove off immediately and the best possible place to turn his car, he passed it.
Another thing was, “what the hell was your assistant negotiator doing in the car?” Isn’t his work at the car park and doesn’t it end there?—
this was all that went through my head in 5 seconds. I looked at the driver, he smiled, looked back at his negotiator and they were both smiling mischievously, I asked why they were leaving the other passengers, they became mute…….
Now if this were you, what would be your first thought (weird? Or kidnappers?). Damn right baby, kidnapper it is; immediately I came to this conclusion, I had a little flashback to the last “James Bond” movie I watched where the guy got pushed out of a moving car and he rolled, rolled, rolled, dusted himself and shot at the bad guys, I was like “oh well, that doesn’t seem like a bad scene, does it?; let me try it too”.
Damn!!!! I’m glad I am alive to tell the story.
I jumped out of this fast moving vehicle but only rolled once and didn’t want to roll again. My hands, left leg, left side of my forehead and left eye all suffered this blissful moment.
The car immediately stopped and the whole narrative changed.
I saw old people coming to gather around me, weeping for me, the victim that wasn’t crying.
The driver and his negotiator started saying “they wanted to pick up a passenger in front and nobody harms a corp member”, “why would I jump out” blah blah blah.
—You wanted to pick what damn passenger that your negotiator had to follow you?
How did you know a passenger was in front when we were both standing by the road? Even if you wanted to pick a passenger in front, it would be counter-productive to leave your other passengers because you’d still have to come back to pick them, —
So their excuse wasn’t adding up; the whole narrative changed because witnesses were around so they had no choice than to keep their cover intact because it was their village.
They took me to the nearest private hospital where I got stitched up.
This was a painful but exciting experience, believe me.
I was excited before camp that I was going to have an amazing experience but I got the most amazing experience of my life after camp even if it came with pain.
Back to my story, immediately we reached the hospital, the nurses quickly took me to the theatre room; the doctor was the only calm person there maybe because they hadn’t gotten such a patient before. He quickly organized them to calm down. I also gave them orders to come and stitch me up because I was in deep pain. My whole kit except my cap was shredded and soaked in blood.
They immediately pulled everything I was wearing except my boxer, washed my injury with “normal saline”, injected my head with pain killer to numb my head and started stitching. I know all this because I was awake throughout and didn’t shut up for once. I was asking questions like “would I die?” “Would I have scars”, “Would my injury heal before December 31st?”
The doctor got fed up honestly but I later got relaxed when I realized the doctor knew what he was doing.
The whole operation was fun because the doctor engaged me in interesting conversations I could relate to and the nurses were young pretty girls.
I made the doctor and nurses laugh as I was just being silly and joking around while they kept on stitching my head.
It was fun!!!
I had more than 26 stitches on my head and like 2 stitches on my lower eyelid because I had a laceration there too.
Stitched my brows too, my nose also.
I was looking funky.
My palms were also torn in several places, even the back of the palm; they were deep injuries but mild so I could still handle my phone but gently.
That same evening, I went back to whatsapp and was even chatting and making some people laugh; they were all oblivious of the situation I was in; I kept this on a need to know basis because I didn’t want the whole world calling.
Like I said, I was chatting like everything was normal and the funny thing is nobody knew what I was going through; that’s why I feel bad for people who talk anyhow on social media without a sense of empathy or control; you don’t know what anyone is passing through, you don’t know the challenges anyone is facing, so you better mind how you talk to people because words could drive people into becoming suicidal.
The sad part about my injury was that I became practically helpless. I couldn’t eat properly, I couldn’t use my hands, I couldn’t bathe, I couldn’t take a dump because it kind of hurt when I use force and my head will get affected. I was in severe pain.
But, for one reason or the other, I didn’t express it. I was chatting like a normal person on social media and even when I told a few people, they didn’t understand the gravity of the situation till I showed them a picture.
My male cousin bathed me, my younger sister fed me, but I could only chew with my right jaw because the left had been shifted.
My stitches had to be removed because my injury got infected and my upper eyelid was swelling with pus filled in it.
Now, Joshua became a “walking pus carrier” in my head. Every time I slept, the pus dripped from my head to pillow.
But it’s all closing up now; surprisingly I’m healing up fast.
Well, it’s been a long ride reaching this side of my story but if you’re reading this, you should know my injuries are healing pretty nice now; the holes are closed and I have more energy than before.
I still have anxiety attacks once in a while but writing this and speaking to people helps me control the anxiety. A second chance to life isn’t what I’m going to mess with and I know I’m changing a lot about who I used to be.
Whenever I have an idea I write it down, even if it’s not a very good idea. Sometimes the bad ideas will lead to better ones.
Great Post!
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