Gbade Amuda opened his eyes in a strange environment – a hospital bed in Lagos Island. He regaled the hospital staff of the miracle of his survival. There was a conspiracy of ignorant look directed at him by the nursing staffers.
By Taju Tijani
The nurses rushed him into the intensive care unit. Dripped water was passed through his veins. Windows were open to allow in fresh air. The duty doctor was on lunch break. The stranger on the sick bed was brought in by a Good Samaritan. He was tired, weak and lifeless. The languid figure wore Buba and Sokoto trouser with a palm sandal. Someone held on to his thick-rimmed glasses found in his Lexus car. The tall, dark, middle-age man’s phone was also retrieved from the scene of distress where he was rescued.
Gbade Amuda is a hard-working business man. He likes the smell of money and had been like that since his secondary school days. He runs a logistics business in Lagos and has another sprawling business hub in Ibadan. He shuttles between the two cities as the mood suits him. Gbade is down to earth in sartorial matters. He lives a simple ascetic lifestyle uncommon among men of his class. He had been like that since we collided in secondary school as juvenile bohemians. He is hot. Academically hot. An all-rounder who could segue from Art to the Sciences.
Gbade is a calm head. A lover of the club scene when the spirit of hedonism had him in its tempting embrace. He loves his beer and cigarettes and the occasional sweaty exercises on creaking bed. He loves his kids and had been staking all his money, time and reputation on their education. He is blessed with intelligent kids who are doing brilliantly across the planet. I found a glow of relief on his face during our dull moment when we sit to play back the reel of time and destiny. He is the faithful supplicant who directs all requests to God with expectation.
The drive from Apapa his base to the Atlantic coast of Lekki was smooth. Unlike the notorious gridlock around Lekki-Aja axis, Gbade Amuda was lucky this day to cruise unimpeded by traffic. He listened to his car radio and enjoyed the deejay’s playlist all along his trip. Then the delirium set in. The beauty of smooth driving gave way instantly. It was like a ghost had taken over the car steering. He felt nothing. The car was not on auto pilot. He knew it was moving but the destination was now unknown. Yes, unknown. Then he went blank.
READ ALSO: Igbo Kwenu…Who is after Emeka?
A construction company lay ahead. Gbade was now under a suspended consciousness. The car drove itself into the sprawling yard and bedded down. He still had one of his long legs on the break. The engine was still on. He sat in the car motionless. His head was cupped towards the steering wheel but stubbornly had one of his legs on the brake pedal. As the time ticked away, he became a subject of concern to the only man who saw his altered consciousness. Activities in the yard was chaotic. Picture a construction site around Lekki/Elegushi/Epe highway. It is always a mini bedlam.
The crane driver sat in his cubicle high in the sky lifting the heavy stones in place. He spotted the unusual manoeuvres of Gbade as he drove into the yard. Initially, he was unconcerned. After about thirty minutes he observed that he was motionless and that the car engine was on. His health and safety instinct kicked in. He lowered the crane and rushed to Gbade. He tapped on the glass. No response. Gbade by now had rested his head completely on the car steering and looked drained of life. The door of the car was yanked open.
Gbade Amuda opened his eyes in a strange environment – a hospital bed in Lagos Island. He regaled the hospital staff of the miracle of his survival. There was a conspiracy of ignorant look directed at him by the nursing staffers. They knew what happened to him. It is becoming common in Nigeria to lose consciousness while driving. The harm of it all is yet to percolate society. The nurses massed around Gbade and explained to him that he was saved by the CRANE DRIVER who saw his helpless condition in the yard. They opened up to him.
“Mr Amuda, when we checked your pulse, your high blood pressure was so high we wondered why you were still alive,” one of the nurses revealed.
“God really loves you,” another nurse intoned. The doctor made his way to Gbade’s bed. He looked angry and unfriendly.
“Mr Gbade, you should by now be a dead man but saved by the crane driver. You are a blessed and educated man and yet you are ignorant in matters relating to High Blood Pressure (HBP). When was the last time you took your pressure and blood sugar level,” the doctor asked.
“These cases are becoming rampant in our society especially among the busy class who live hectic life chasing deals and money. Please sir once we discharge you make it a weekly routine to check your pulse and sugar level to avoid life threatening fatality,” the doctor cautioned.
Gbade Amuda was speechless. He could not understand how he survived such HB pressure attack. The extremity of the incident made him emotional. He could only thank the hospital staff. Gbade went back to the yard to thank the crane driver who saved his life. He called him his angel who God used to rescue him from sudden death.
“Teejay, I nearly died, you know,” Gbade teased me in his office at Ibadan. Then he went on and reeled out all the drama above. I listened carefully to the tale he tagged a “gift of second life”. Two days later, I chartered local HBP concoctions and herbs and dumped it at him. That was my own gift for a third life. Today, Gbade Amuda does regular brisk walk. He bubbles around the factory compound – a subdued, calmer, teetotaler and thankful to God almighty.
