What I did after a Traffic Warden seized my Driver’s Licence

traffic wardenWhen I was learning to drive in my late teens, the ‘qualified’ driving instructor advised that while driving I must assume that everyone else is drunk. Why? The logic was that if they were actually drunk then they wouldn’t drive properly. This would mean that they could run into me so I would have to be extra alert and preempt unforeseen accidents or close shaves. Unfortunately these words of wisdom didn’t pay off when I (allegedly) beat a non-existent traffic light and got stopped by a drunk traffic warden.

The uniformed clown had actually beckoned the vehicle right in front of me to drive forward so I tailed it closely. Obviously I wasn’t close enough else I would have smashed the warden’s legs. I said to him, ‘But you told me to come’. However he denied it and said he told me to stop. He looked at me in shock when I started raising my voice and so he directed me to ‘park well’ (away from oncoming traffic). He came to the front passenger window and started to engage me in shit-chat (no typo) which I’ve heard all before. It started with, ‘Let me see your driver’s licence!’ Then after I handed it over and he pretended to understand what he was examining, the next thing he said was, ‘Open your door.’

‘What the hell for?’ I retorted.

‘Look here, if you don’t want me to take your car to the station then open your door now’

I turned away from him and stared intently at my two hands firmly placed on the steering wheel, like a racer waiting for the starting pistol to be fired. I weighed my options: He gets in. We drive to the station. My car gets clamped. I pay a heavy fine and bank account bleeds. Total time wasted = 45mins to 1 hour.

I decided to go for my next option – I sped off and let the traffic warden choke on my dust! No money lost. Car is safe. Total time wasted = 3 mins. But as I let the adrenaline wear off it suddenly dawned on me that my driver’s licence was still in that traffic warden’s hand! not a photocopy…MY ORIGINAL DRIVER’S LICENCE – DAMN IT!!! (To be continued)

The Initiation: What it means to cut your hand in Nigeria (Pt.1)

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Dear readers, As I think back to the time when I returned from London after ten years of work experience to settle in Nigeria, I marvel at how much of the local lingo I’ve learnt e.g. To ‘trafficate’ is to … Continue reading

Stay Alive. Don’t Text and Drive!

Entry #56 – Hit and run

The (Black) Chery A520

2days ago I was driving back home in my black Chery after work in the evening when I encountered an overzealous motorpsyhcolist motorcyclist  at a roundabout. I was well on my way to detour into my street when the bike decided to cut across at the last minute. It was a very close shave. I braked suddenly and the motorcyclist also swerved to avoid a head-on collision. However he scampered unto a nearby kerb in the process and lost balance – both he and his male passenger stumbled to the ground. I, on the otherhand, sped off!

Technically I didn’t hit the bike or its passengers so could this really be called a Hit and Run? I think the appropriate expression would be Brake and Run – that’s what I did. The reason why I ran is that Lagos motorcyclists can be notorious for their guerilla justice i.e. ganging up with other motorcyclists and then outnumbering Poor You. Before you know it, stories are being fabricated against you and everything you say is a lie. Your car could be vandalized and you could even be picked up by LASTMA (these road marshalls are the equivalent of the Gestapo around these parts).

Sincerely speaking, if I had made contact with the bike I would have stopped and parked off the road to attend to the pseudo-casualties. I had the right of way and the bike cut across, jumping a red light. Well, I’m sure the motorcyclist and his passengers were okay. It’s not like they lost balance on the main road and got trampled upon by uncoming motorists. Now that would have been a sight…yikes!