WINGS.
We
had been travelling for hours. She was doing between 100 and 120. The journey
had been smooth and quite interesting. It had been pure joy just taking in the
plains and hills; being able to see through trees to the hills, having left the
dense foliage of the Southwest where we began our journey behind. The sun was
at its peak, glaring down at the asphalt-covered roads as the car ate up the
miles.
Then
we hit the long stretch of road between Okene and Lokoja. No curves. No bends. The more miles you devoured, the
more you see taunting you. There was a certain vehicle ahead of us, which was
moving at a regular speed. She was chafing.
It wasn’t living up to its potential and she felt held back. Then she
lost her patience. She stepped on the gas and moved up to overtake it. The road
was single carriage and the thought of expanding it had not yet been conceived.
When she decided she’d had enough there was a 14-wheeler coming down the other
lane. Her mind, however, was made up. She faced the oncoming vehicle and
flashed her lights. I could hear the truck’s horn blaring. The driver of the
truck flashed his own lights in warning.
I
caught the eyes of the driver of the vehicle we were overtaking as she drew
level with him. They were incredulous. She hit 140. She made it. We made it by
a hair’s breadth. My spirit came back from where it had fled.
She
gave the truck driver thumbs up as she returned to her lane. Apparently, he’d
stepped on the brake at the last minute, or something. I exhaled and she
chuckled. My siblings were silent in the back seat. What we'd witnessed was
better lived. She didn’t look back. She kept flying. She never went less than
120, eating up the miles and dusting other cars. It was as if that feat freed
her, gave her wings to fly and boy, did she fly. She was the only female driver on the road as
far as I could tell. Whenever we got to any checkpoint, the men, with a hail
and how do you do waved her on.
Finally,
we got to our destination. The FCT, with its expanse of roads and no congestion, and She started doing 80 until we reached home.
There
were several trips like that. Sometimes ours would be the lone car on the road
for some distance in the dead of the night, like 1 a.m. she at the wheels, me
beside her and my younger ones sleeping at the back. Travelling across the
length of the country with her, revealed the woman she was to me. She was not
one to be contained. She needed to fly. And, found her wings. I can’t imagine
how her life would have turned out if her wings had been clipped. Vesuvius
would have been child’s play to her eruption.
©
Olamide O. Longe.
