Edith Agina was an Umuoji daughter of Chief and Mrs. Sam Agina. Sam had served the Nigeria Police Force and retired as a Sergeant. He had the privilege of being appointed to Nkalagu Cement Factory as a Chief Security Officer. He lived in the residential estate of the factory in a little bungalow. His wife was a cloth merchant and she commuted regularly between Umuoji Onitsha and Nkalagu. She had four daughters and two young sons at the time. Most of them were in Lagos. The main event in this narrative was that I had to travel all the way to Nkalagu to obtain the consent of Chief Sam Agina to marry his daughter. I had to go with my people in reverence to Igbo tradition.
The first leg of the journey was Lagos to my village,Amohuo, to prepare my people. A younger brother of my wife-to-be, Emma, was mandated to travel to Enugu and head forNkalagu to alert their father about the event. Emma, a lanky young man in his early 20s, was very respectful. He embarked on the trip with me one morning. I do not remember what day of the week it was. It was a smooth drive until we were near Asaba.
The Benin-Asaba Road was being widened for the first time post-Biafran War. Dumez, I think it was, won the contract and under the contract created a sudden diversion into Asaba and had built a three-metre high mound of earth as barricade to on-coming traffic from Benin. In the euphoria of pleasant motoring, I did not take note of the warning about a diversion and hit the mound suddenly. It was about 7.30pm after an unbroken five hours or more of motoring. I tried to stop. The car skidded. I maintained pressure on my breaks and in the process forcibly turned the wheel leftward into the bye-pass that had been created. I had just overshot the turn by one meter, but I had ample chance of making a wider curve to negotiate my vehicle into it. My Toyota Corona, upon my tugging it forcibly, careered off into the bush almost making a U-turn and facing Lagos from where I was bound. The U-turn was not completed. The car was heading for a palm tree on the left side of the bye-pass almost closing a circle in the mighty arc it had made. I called it back again forcibly and a Peugeot 404 Pick Up Van was on its way to Benin on his own side of the bye-pass. He formed the wedge to my careering car and, using him as a buffer, both vehicles came to an unwholesome halt.The whole world seemed to stand still that instant. There was quiet, broken only by the two cars which were sizzling. My radiator was gone. The right bumper of the 404 was damaged. The driver of the van plaintively came out of his fairly new van and contemplated the damage. He did not speak much. I did not talk at all. The guilt was clearly mine. The issue of the moment after was what we were to do to reach a resolution outside the corrupt intervention of Nigeria Police. I then spoke forth.
“I am guilty,” I said. “I was coming with speed and saw this mound of earth and could not stop fully.” I pointed guiltily at the mound and lowered my hand.
“It is too much speed,” was his curt reply.
“What do we do?” I pursued.
“No be me get motor oh! I no know wetin you wan do oh!”
“Who is the owner of the van?”
“Na my Oga”
“Where will I find him now?” It was apparent to me that the driver, who was probably about 25, could not make a decision on the matter. It was necessary to approach the owner and perhaps sort the matter out eye-ball to eye-ball.
“My Ogadey for Auchi.”
This revelation stunned me. Auchi was on the northern limits of then Bendel State. The man I was dialoguing with had no competence to transact with me. We would have to go the distance to meet the oga. I made up my mind to embark with the driver.
My prospective brother-in-law had apparently broken his neck at the impact. He was feeling poorly. I had to arrange for him to proceed to Enugu by public transport. My cousin, the third passenger, had to stay with the car till I returned. It was close to 8pm when we departed for Auchi. Both cars were left at the scene of accident. The driver was not sure what his boss’ reaction would be.
I should narrate with joy that I met a human being about midnight at Auchi. He welcomed us into his house that night and made to offer food. I declined his offer, pleading that I was in a hurry to know his decision. He went into a long narrative on providence. He was a road-user and could easily come to the same end as I was in. There was nothing he wanted from me. I should go and see how much I could do to repair the vehicle. He would be satisfied with whatever I thought was fair. If on the other hand I could not handle it for lack of funds, he would take it up himself. I confessed that I had enough money to take care of it without problem. He bade his driver and me farewell in the most pleasant manner and we departed once again with the cab I had hired for the journey.
We slept for a few hours left through the return journey and after that in the car. The morning started early. The van was driven to Onitsha for repairs. My car was towed to Onitsha. Asaba was barren. The war had rendered the town prostrate and impotent to provide any service. Asaba had a large number of retired civil servants who were contented just sitting out in front of their houses during the day and relishing their own traditional importance among their people. They served honestly most of the time and had very little acquisitive instincts. But they had and still have native pride that makes other Ndigbo inferior to them. They pride themselves in the fact that Ndigbo farm for them. They had few native mechanics and automobile technicians. They did not have the humility to learn such trades until recently when government came to them in Asaba, thanks to President Ibrahim Babangida. I got married later to one of their daughters later in my adult life and came to establish that a number of them were dutiful and focused despite their nobility.
(To be continued)
