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A young lad bloodied from head to toe. He sat near the gutter like a criminal. The danfo slammed into concrete demarcation; a road sign squashed and dragged under the bus.
I am looking at the teenager on the floor. He is in pain. Sobbing. Blood everywhere. He is a street hawker. His colleagues carry on with business.

Travelers in every vehicle shaking their heads. Some carry their hands over their heads, and a snap of the fingers to the floor, directed at the devil… that none of this misfortune will come near.
But the boy is still on the floor soaked in his pool of blood. The passengers of the danfo hurry for their bags out of the bus.

He remains on the floor. Soaked in blood and mud.
Yet life manages to move on.
The siren of a security van rushes by, it pays the scene little attention. Like the rest of us in our vehicles, even the authorities shake their heads and zoom away. The accident scene remains the same.
With the boy still on the ground. Bloodied.
Like a criminal. Like a candidate for mob justice.

He quickly becomes a prayer point: may we not befall this calamity
And the teenager sits, yet bloodied on the floor and unattended to.
I am really tired of being a citizen of a third world nation.
It is not just the hopelessness that worries me, it is the fear that precedes such despair.

Also Read: How TO Become A Ruthless Executor

Even if I wanted to do something, I risk spending the entire day from one hospital to the other, doctors requesting police report… nurses ignoring us- a dying accident victim and me, now wet with the victim’s blood.
The police report delayed because of some form of bribe required to write a statement or fuel for their hilux van. Back to the hospital, there’d be no blood, no drugs, no bed, no air, no this no that.

And I would be told to provide everything… just because I felt the need to lift another Nigerian off the ground from a terrible accident. My help would become the biggest error yet in the entire episode. And if I am not careful, if I raise my voice in distress.

I might have a nurse remind me that this is not the first time death is in this clinic.
So I too look away. Sad and ashamed.
I cry instead because this is a blood bath

AKANIMO WISDOM SUNDAY
ONEMORE WISDOM


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