This was written in 2018 while I lived in Delta State
My name is Blessing. I was born in Lagos State, Nigeria. I have had the opportunity to go to some of Lagos’ unique parts, like Ketu, Ojota, Ajegunle, Maryland, and Victoria Island. I can go to any place in Lagos as long as I have the transport fare and the correct directions. Besides navigating my way around Lagos, I have mastered many other things: how to get my change from a bus conductor, how to buy soft drinks, and ‘gala’ through a ‘danfo’ bus window during ‘go-slow’ and how to shout ‘owa’ when the bus gets to my bus stop. They are all important skills. I do them like a boss, but there is one skill I do not have. It is one I have admired in others – strangers and relatives alike. It is crossing the road like a boss. You may be one yourself, or you know someone who does or has seen people who do it. And if you are confused as to how anyone can cross the road like a boss, well, you may have seen some people who cross the road, without so much of the ‘look left, look right and then look left then repeat’ routine we were taught in primary school.
It was just one of those skills I had hoped to one day master up to a week ago, but not any more. It is not a cool skill; it is not even a skill – and yes, I even had to check the meaning of ‘skill’ to be clear. It’s a life-threatening activity both to the individual, other people crossing the road and the drivers on the road. Unfortunately, my change of heart was not because I came to see the safety risks of this activity; no, it was caused by a tragic event—a hit-and-run involving a jeep and a little boy of about ten or eleven years old.
I live by the Effurun Delta Express road, and the minimum speed of cars driving on that road is 90km/hr. Was the little boy trying to cross like a boss? No. No, he was not. He ran. He ran straight across. He was going to his mother’s store in the other village across the express road. It is exactly one week after this accident. I do not know what happened to the little boy afterwards – a good Samaritan drove the unconscious boy and his mother to this hospital.
I have had two thoughts running through my mind during this period. The first one is: “If he had waited a few more seconds” and the other is: “Why didn’t any of the adults standing at the bus-stop hold his hand to cross the road?”. My little advice is: please cross the road responsibly and help little children cross the road too.
Now, the only things I am going to keep doing like a boss are those things that do not endanger myself or the people around me.
Additional thoughts in 2020
The little boy died and more than a year later, I made it my duty to help little children cross the road and tell them to ask adults to help them cross the road when alone.