My rational phobia for Lagos-Ibadan Expressway, by Bamidele Johnson
I avoid the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway from 5pm. Plain and stubborn rule. Once it is five, I do not leave Ibadan for Lagos and I do not leave Lagos for Ibadan. Once it was simple cowardice. I had heard too many robbery stories.
One, in particular, has stuck with me. It was that of a man returning from a wedding in Ife in a commercial bus. He was blinded during a by robbers because he hesitated to hand over the camera full of wedding photos. I also have two friends who were robbed on that road. One of them had machete cuts that seemed to have come from the Rwandan genocide manual. That tends to settle a man’s travel plans.
There were other, practical fears. A breakdown or a flat tyre could end you in the hands of the towing-vehicle mafia who would shake you down in mindless fashion. And I have never had great night vision. In the last two years, it has gone from poor to actively useless and has made night driving even in my hood a herculean task.
So yesterday, in the dark, there I was on the expressway with my wife and a friend. Until we passed Redemption Camp my heart was doing its own percussion section, but I kept my voice calm. Chatting is useful. It hides fear and it makes you sound like a man making a rational decision rather than one waiting to audition for a hostage drama.
During the week I had watched videos coming out of abductions and killings in Kwara State. Those images sat in my head like gravel. I thought about the fallout of being taken. If both parents of the same children disappeared and/or the other family lost its breadwinner, the result would be calamitously catastrophic (pardon that). Thinking it was a little much, I still felt the weight of it each kilometre.
The darker it got, the louder deeper my worry. When we finally reached Mowe I allowed myself to breathe. We were not safe, but we were safer. That said, the experience made me reassess Wale Adedayo. It either increased my respect for his nerve or it highlighted his reckless streak.
Years ago in Abeokuta, Wale announced at 10pm while we were lagering up that he was leaving for Lagos because he had to be on Channels TV the next morning. I told him he was mad (he’s mad by nature, actually). Robberies, breakdowns, other nonsense, I tried to remind him. He shrugged and left. He returned the next morning after his TV appearance.
He has behaved like that ever since. I guess he could do that in his sleep. I do not plan to imitate him. It is not an aspiration of mine to make phone calls from a kidnappers’ den, begging friends to crowdfund a ransom that might not secure my release. Some risks are for other people. I prefer my life and my eyesight intact.
Some will call this paranoia or phobia. But phobia is irrational fear. Mine has evidence, witnesses and a track record.
