₦airaland Forum

"HOW I NEARLY LOST MY LIFE AT RIVER NIGER BRIDGE"




I have travelled far and wide within the shores of Nigeria. I have savored the freshness of Kaduna's "fura" and the sweet aroma of Maiduguri's "fara". I still remember the taste of Enugu's "Okpa'. A million years will pass but I will never be able to forget the sweetness of Owerri's palmwine and the flavour of Asaba "bole" and banga soup. And with every new town I enter, I take my time to romance all the street delicacies and time without number, they have given me culinary orgasms. It was during the course of my service year that I discovered that it is a taboo to eat "Ogbono" soup in Asaba. Yes! "Ogbono" is worshipped like some god down here. According to a myth, the Ogbono plant saved the people of Asaba during the civil war, hence they do not eat it for any reason.
A part of me was craving for "Ogbono" soup and I couldn't help it. I had spent ten months in Asaba and within this period, I have trekked from Nnebisi road to Okpanam, been ejected from a keke for no reason, helped strangers pushed their car three times and on two occassions, I have seen women stripped unclad in public. But despite everything, I had never seen or tasted Ogbono soup. The urge to eat Ogbono soup became severe as a result of the fact that I had prepared soup only once since I entered Delta state and being that I added too much Maggi that day, I gave up on making soup forever and I have been buying ever since.
It was during one of my quests for peptic ectasy, that I ventured into a daredevil sojourn into the famous Onitsha to have a taste of "Ogbono" soup which I had missed for a very long time. This is a story of how I almost lost my precious life chasing satisfaction. And sadly, if I had died that day, perhaps it would been a good way to leave this unfair and unjust world. I would have bowed out with my head held high, a cute smile and a full stomach, but God said NO!!
How can Asaba be very interesting yet one cannot eat "Ogbono" soup? What irony! When I couldnt hold it anymore, I decided to take the bull by the horn and travel to Onitsha to eat "Ogbono" soup. You heard me right? Yes Onitsha. I got dressed that afternoon and headed to the motor park. I needed to take my mind off the life of Asaba. I needed to think straight for a moment without seeing short skirts or bare cleavages. Most importantly, I needed some Ogbono soup in my life.
As I alighted from the bus in Onitsha, it didnt take long before I spotted a local joint at Upper Iweka, where Ogbono soup was boldly written on the signpost, just below the "Food Is Ready" inscription. How much I love Onitsha! Life is easy in Onitsha. So I heard from friend who resides there. I ordered for two plates that day and immediately I took the first morsel of "fufu" into my starving mouth, tears came to my eyes, and I knew that there is a God in heaven and for once I hated Asaba. I took time to savour the meal and licked all my finger tips at the end of the session. The big standing fan in the restaurant provided the right temperature to relax and stroke heavy stomach that was already purring from satisfaction. I didn't come all the way from Asaba only to rush back after the meal. I relaxed for a whole one hour before I carried my stomach and myself and headed back to the motor park and that was when it happened.
Little did I know that while I was relaxing at the restaurant, a trailer had fallen at the road leading to the head bridge and a heavy traffic had ensued. I had paid 200 naira from Asaba to Onitsha but this time the driver insisted that we must pay 300 naira. It was already 5pm. It didn't take long before the bus got filled up and we headed towards the River Niger Bridge. That was when we saw the traffic and I knew I was in for some long discomfort. The bus was air-tight with passengers and we could hardly breathe. The bus driver made matters worse being that he was an old man and couldn't manoeuver the vehicle like the young drivers. He would promptly turn off the ignition at every slightest opportunity in an attempt to save fuel and the effect was that whenever any space comes for him to move forward, before he would even turn on the ignition, another vehicle would just overtake us from nowhere. This went on over and over and that was how we spent three good hours trying to ascend the River Niger bridge.
At last , at about 9pm, through some divine intervention, we finally found ourselves on the route that led to the bridge. This was after we had rained curses on the driver. Just as we had reached the middle of the bridge, we realized that there was another traffic on the bridge, and just like expected, the driver, promptly turned off the ignition to save fuel. This time, it didn't take long before the vehicles in front started to move and that was when the unfortunate happened. Our driver tried to turn on the ignition but the vehicle wouldn't come through. He tried it for almost twenty times but the vehicle refused. This was happening right in the middle of the Niger bridge. At this point, we were now causing the traffic. Most of the ladies inside the bus had started crying and shouting "Blood ofJesus" while others screamed "Obara Jesus"! The male passengers couldn't hold their anger as they insulted the driver for not checking his vehicle before putting it on the road. The driver suggested that we should alight and push the bus. You heard me right? Push the vehicle on top of River Niger Bridge!! At first the passengers refused, but then we realized that it was the only option left, all the guys alighted and that was how we started pushing the miserable bus. Jesus Christ! I couldn't believe what I was doing. Trailers and big trucks were blaring their horn behind us. One Dangote truck almost hit us had it been the driver hadn't used the brake. We pushed and pushed but the bus refused to start and that was when we realized that the driver had hoodwinked us. We came to the realization that the problem wasn't even battery-related. That was when it dawned on us that the driver had been managing his fuel all the while because he wasn't even having enough fuel. Damn!
We stopped pushing and dragged the driver out of the bus right in the middle of the Bridge and demanded for a refund of our monies. He refused at first, but after recieving three slaps from different directions, that was when he realized we weren't joking. He ended up refunding us 200 naira each that day. And we left him to his fate with his useless bus.
It didn't take long before the ladies got free rides to Asaba, as drivers slowed down to pick them. After waiting for a while, I had already made up my mind to trek the distance down the bridge, when a car slowed down and picked a couple of us who promptly hopped in. I reached my house that night at exactly three minutes to 10pm. The memories of the experience still haunts me up till this very day. What if that Dangote trailer had failed brake? Chaii!! God forbid bad thing abeg!