₦airaland Forum

It was one of those scorching Lagos afternoons, where the sun felt like it was sitting directly on top of my car. I was headed to a meeting, but as I turned out of my street, I heard it—a strange grinding noise from the engine. My stomach dropped. This was the kind of noise that only spells trouble in all caps.

I pulled over and, as luck would have it, I spotted a mechanic workshop just a few meters away. I thought I’d get it checked out, and maybe it would be something minor. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

As I walked up, a man wearing a slightly greasy overall and a wide grin greeted me. He introduced himself as Mallam Musa—the local fixer of all things mechanical. After explaining the issue, he waved me over confidently and popped the hood. He poked around, muttering under his breath before standing up and looking at me with that same grin. “Oga, you have to change the whole engine. This one don spoil finish.”

My heart skipped. Change the whole engine? “But the car was working fine yesterday,” I protested, trying to mask my growing panic. But he was adamant, tapping on parts and naming them with such confidence it was hard not to believe him. I wasn’t a mechanic, after all. This man clearly knew what he was doing.

Or so I thought.

When I asked for a breakdown of costs, he rattled off prices so quickly I could hardly keep up. Each part sounded more obscure than the last, and I could feel my bank account crying. In desperation, I finally blurted out, “Mallam Musa, are you sure? This car is just two years old.”

He hesitated, just for a second, but quickly recovered. “Ah, Oga, you have to trust us mechanics. We know what we are doing!”

Something in his tone felt off, though. A small voice in my head said, Ask more questions. But what did I know? I’d been so used to just accepting whatever the “experts” said.

Yet, as he continued listing parts I’d never heard of, I remembered my cousin once warned me about this exact scenario. “Always ask questions,” he’d said. “Never assume the first answer is the only answer.”

So I took a breath and asked him to walk me through the repairs. “What exactly is wrong with each part, and how does it affect the engine?” I asked, giving him a serious look.

For the first time, Mallam Musa looked less confident. He stammered, eyes darting as he tried to explain how “the converter” was making the “chassis” spoil the “manifold.” By then, I knew he was bluffing. I thanked him, made an excuse to “go withdraw cash,” and got out of there as fast as I could.

The next day, I took my car to a certified mechanic across town. Turns out, the issue was minor—a loose fan belt that needed a quick adjustment. I was on my way in fifteen minutes, without breaking the bank.

That day, I learned that asking questions isn’t just smart—it’s necessary. Now, every time I deal with a mechanic, or frankly anyone who claims to be an “expert,” I ask questions until I’m satisfied. And when someone tries to dodge my questions? That’s when I know it’s time to take my business elsewhere.

So thank you, Mallam Musa. You may not have fixed my car, but you taught me a lesson I’ll never forget. In this life, always ask questions—because a little curiosity can save you a lot of cash.

Beekeeper1:
Yet, as he continued listing parts I’d never heard of, I remembered my cousin once warned me about this exact scenario. “Always ask questions,” he’d said. “Never assume the first answer is the only answer.”

One would think it was your cousin that taught you to ask questions, and not the mechanic. But what do I know?

Lagos mechanic go humble your account if you're not smart enough 😄😄

Every Lagos artisan looks at you wishing that they can empty all your savings into their pocket.

Most artisan in major corrupt nations are overly concerned about drying your account first...


I sell herbs for sexual enhancement tho

What you will do if anything happens to your car especially if you are not in your environment, is to ask where the part seller of your car brand is located, meet him ask questions about everything that is happening to your car.
He will recommend the best mechanic and rewire around.

Must be a Toyota Corolla

Good

Thanks for this nice thread.

Next time Anita visit and claim she's on her period, I will ask questions.

Most Nigerians learn better through the hard way...

Not just asking questions, but asking questions to the right people. Even going deeper as making research online. One needs to learn how to troubleshoot cars before taking to the mechanic. A quick Google search will give you some ideas of the likely causes of the issue.

Na Mallam Musa spoil am for night in the first place

Who ask question no dey lost.

Excellent writeup

Thank you for sharing

Unfortunately for us, we have a MALLAM MUSA running the Nigerian economy.....


A trial and error Chief accountant... Maybe they need to apologies to Emefiele,

After spoiling that vehicle... MALLAM MUSA would have blamed past mechanic...


Just imagine how much MALLAM MUSA would made you to borrow from china just for the wasted time and resources....


MALLAM MUSA needs to be avoided at all cost

Gone are the days when an average lagosian is too busy to ask questions..

Beekeeper1:
It was one of those scorching Lagos afternoons, where the sun felt like it was sitting directly on top of my car. I was headed to a meeting, but as I turned out of my street, I heard it—a strange grinding noise from the engine. My stomach dropped. This was the kind of noise that only spells trouble in all caps.

I pulled over and, as luck would have it, I spotted a mechanic workshop just a few meters away. I thought I’d get it checked out, and maybe it would be something minor. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

As I walked up, a man wearing a slightly greasy overall and a wide grin greeted me. He introduced himself as Mallam Musa—the local fixer of all things mechanical. After explaining the issue, he waved me over confidently and popped the hood. He poked around, muttering under his breath before standing up and looking at me with that same grin. “Oga, you have to change the whole engine. This one don spoil finish.”

My heart skipped. Change the whole engine? “But the car was working fine yesterday,” I protested, trying to mask my growing panic. But he was adamant, tapping on parts and naming them with such confidence it was hard not to believe him. I wasn’t a mechanic, after all. This man clearly knew what he was doing.

Or so I thought.

When I asked for a breakdown of costs, he rattled off prices so quickly I could hardly keep up. Each part sounded more obscure than the last, and I could feel my bank account crying. In desperation, I finally blurted out, “Mallam Musa, are you sure? This car is just two years old.”

He hesitated, just for a second, but quickly recovered. “Ah, Oga, you have to trust us mechanics. We know what we are doing!”

Something in his tone felt off, though. A small voice in my head said, Ask more questions. But what did I know? I’d been so used to just accepting whatever the “experts” said.

Yet, as he continued listing parts I’d never heard of, I remembered my cousin once warned me about this exact scenario. “Always ask questions,” he’d said. “Never assume the first answer is the only answer.”

So I took a breath and asked him to walk me through the repairs. “What exactly is wrong with each part, and how does it affect the engine?” I asked, giving him a serious look.

For the first time, Mallam Musa looked less confident. He stammered, eyes darting as he tried to explain how “the converter” was making the “chassis” spoil the “manifold.” By then, I knew he was bluffing. I thanked him, made an excuse to “go withdraw cash,” and got out of there as fast as I could.

The next day, I took my car to a certified mechanic across town. Turns out, the issue was minor—a loose fan belt that needed a quick adjustment. I was on my way in fifteen minutes, without breaking the bank.

That day, I learned that asking questions isn’t just smart—it’s necessary. Now, every time I deal with a mechanic, or frankly anyone who claims to be an “expert,” I ask questions until I’m satisfied. And when someone tries to dodge my questions? That’s when I know it’s time to take my business elsewhere.

So thank you, Mallam Musa. You may not have fixed my car, but you taught me a lesson I’ll never forget. In this life, always ask questions—because a little curiosity can save you a lot of cash.

you are joking with an aboki man,one of them fixmy kchibo transistor radio some years back in Maiduguri,when he recoupled the radio some parts where remaining,I asked him why some parts were left,the aboki man answered " don't mind those oyibo people,they too like shine shine, those parts are not necessary"I could neither laugh nor complain,the funny thing is the radio was working,the aboki said he was not going to touch the radio again as kchibo was a very difficult radio to fix,I had to pay him n Left, anytime I see any aboki technician I always recall that incident with laughter.

It was your cousin that taught you the lesson, not the mechanic.

Beekeeper1:
It was one of those scorching Lagos afternoons, where the sun felt like it was sitting directly on top of my car. I was headed to a meeting, but as I turned out of my street, I heard it—a strange grinding noise from the engine. My stomach dropped. This was the kind of noise that only spells trouble in all caps.

I pulled over and, as luck would have it, I spotted a mechanic workshop just a few meters away. I thought I’d get it checked out, and maybe it would be something minor. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

As I walked up, a man wearing a slightly greasy overall and a wide grin greeted me. He introduced himself as Mallam Musa—the local fixer of all things mechanical. After explaining the issue, he waved me over confidently and popped the hood. He poked around, muttering under his breath before standing up and looking at me with that same grin. “Oga, you have to change the whole engine. This one don spoil finish.”

My heart skipped. Change the whole engine? “But the car was working fine yesterday,” I protested, trying to mask my growing panic. But he was adamant, tapping on parts and naming them with such confidence it was hard not to believe him. I wasn’t a mechanic, after all. This man clearly knew what he was doing.

Or so I thought.

When I asked for a breakdown of costs, he rattled off prices so quickly I could hardly keep up. Each part sounded more obscure than the last, and I could feel my bank account crying. In desperation, I finally blurted out, “Mallam Musa, are you sure? This car is just two years old.”

He hesitated, just for a second, but quickly recovered. “Ah, Oga, you have to trust us mechanics. We know what we are doing!”

Something in his tone felt off, though. A small voice in my head said, Ask more questions. But what did I know? I’d been so used to just accepting whatever the “experts” said.

Yet, as he continued listing parts I’d never heard of, I remembered my cousin once warned me about this exact scenario. “Always ask questions,” he’d said. “Never assume the first answer is the only answer.”

So I took a breath and asked him to walk me through the repairs. “What exactly is wrong with each part, and how does it affect the engine?” I asked, giving him a serious look.

For the first time, Mallam Musa looked less confident. He stammered, eyes darting as he tried to explain how “the converter” was making the “chassis” spoil the “manifold.” By then, I knew he was bluffing. I thanked him, made an excuse to “go withdraw cash,” and got out of there as fast as I could.

The next day, I took my car to a certified mechanic across town. Turns out, the issue was minor—a loose fan belt that needed a quick adjustment. I was on my way in fifteen minutes, without breaking the bank.

That day, I learned that asking questions isn’t just smart—it’s necessary. Now, every time I deal with a mechanic, or frankly anyone who claims to be an “expert,” I ask questions until I’m satisfied. And when someone tries to dodge my questions? That’s when I know it’s time to take my business elsewhere.

So thank you, Mallam Musa. You may not have fixed my car, but you taught me a lesson I’ll never forget. In this life, always ask questions—because a little curiosity can save you a lot of cash.

Everybody na lecturer for his own hustle

Fatbam005:
Gone are the days when an average lagosian is too busy to ask questions..

Lol
Are you a mechanic?

Noted.

MrBanner:
SEUN, WHY HAVE YOU AND YOUR MODS REFUSED TO CENSOR THIS CRIMINALS ACCOUNT NUMBER AND FLAG IT AS A SCAM
OLAOLUWA OTUKOMAYA TUNDE IS A NOTORIOUS SCAMMER. GENERAL PUBLIC TAKE NOTE!!!
SCAMMER
Mynd44
Mukina2
Seun
Oam4j
Nlfpmod
Dominique
Rocktation
Dragnet
Fergie001

Its only if the fraudulent bank accounts are reported and the banks take action before such scammers will reduce.

JJC car owner.

1. Loose car fan belt and someone told you there is going to be a change of engine.

2. Something seemingly serious according to Mallam and you never thought of contacting your own mechanic.

3. Perhaps, you don't even have a mechanic.

4. Most likely you dont even know the location of the fan belt.

5. You are yet to know what different sounds mean in a car.

Even after escaping from the grip of Mallam, you will still pay your due as a JJC.

First it is very good to ask questions, infact from doing so, you will know if a technician is competent or not. However, it is also good for car owners to own a scanner, the least of them, the ODB scanner is good enough to diagnose faults on your car which will save you lots of trouble from the hands of mechanics. The most shocking part is that some of these mechanics don’t even know the cause of some issues, and when they also don’t scan cars or know how to interpret error codes, they will subject your car to trial and error and sometimes complicating the issues.

There are good mechanic workshops but the truth is that the working methodologies of most is poor even when they know what to do, cutting wires, not knowing the battery head to remove et al.

Ensure to purchase a car scanner