There is a reason why cars have brakes, so the driver can apply them if he ever needs to stop the car.
A car without brakes is almost like a death wish for the driver and any other passenger that gets into the car with them but sometimes, you can be in a car and not even know there are no brakes...
Or the brakes "fail".
One day a few short years ago, I had gone to Wuye in Abuja on what I now know was a wild goose chase. I had gone in search of something I never should have followed up on when I first missed it.
Well, I needed to make my way back home sometime past 11pm and there were no cabs plying the streets. There was a hotel open nearby and even though my partner suggested we spend the night at the hotel, I was a bit uneasy.
We lived in Abuja in a location less than 15 minutes from Wuye. Why spend the night in a hotel when it was not a romantic getaway? We could make it back home if we tried.
The hotel receptionist agreed with me that it was worth a second try, and he had the number of a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy, who had a taxi... so we called them up and waited for the cab to arrive.
It was now about 12 midnight but we wearily got into the cab and I settled into the backseat for a brief snooze before we got home. I was therefore blissfully unaware of any incidents that might have offered in those few minutes of sleep, until we got to a stretch of road that had speed bumps (also known as speed breakers) on them.
Without pausing for air, the cab sped past them. I almost lost my tongue that night and the rude shock of chomping down on the tongue (which by the way is my redeeming feature), jolted me out of sleep.
I sat up and asked, "na wetin, what is it?"
My partner who was sitting in front and looking visibly worried replied, "nothing" while the driver apologised. According to him, he didn't know the speed bumps would be there.
Strange since he accepted to take us there claiming he knew the route well.
Less than a minute later, we ricocheted off the next set of speed bumps and all thoughts of sleep deserted poor me like rats jumping a sinking ship.
"Haba oga, can't you see the speed bumps still? Use your full lights na!".
"Yes ma."
But I noticed the hushed and frantic consultations going on in the front of the car and began to seriously worry. The road was part a major link road and part access route to some residential estates so the government had thought it wise to minimise "stories that touch" by installing speed bumps right in front of entrances to the estates.
Two set a few metres apart before every approach to the estate.
Another set of speed bumps would come up soon and then the entrance to put estate.
The cab driver sped over these ones too like he was "eating the speed bumps like yams". Cheezos!
My voice rose as I asked in panic, "Oga what is it now? What is going on?", but it was my partner that turned to me and answered, "Vee, no brakes!"
Holy Mother of God. I crossed myself and began to panic, then forced myself to remain call but sat bolt upright, watching the road. After the next set of speed bumps, we would take a sharp left turn across a usually busy road, to get into our own estate; which by the way had a long drive in, past a bridge with a bonafide river and a pair of what we refer to tongue-in-cheek as gates, manned by what we also refer to tongue-in-cheek, as security men.
Heart pounding as we took the next set of speed bumps without pausing for breath, I clamped both hands around my heart metaphorically speaking, as the driver and my partner cut the steering sharply, and we bounced into the driveway to the estate.
The car bounced along as we screamed every religious exclamation known to man, and I think God had our back that night. The "estate gates" were wide open, the entry bar was raised and the "security men" were seated on plastic chairs, legs raised against trees and walls, snoring. There would be no barrier to our zooming right into the estate like hell's devils on speed.
I noticed my partner trying to ask the driver to make a left turn to take the road to our house once we got into the estate and I balked at it. "No", I screamed, "let him drive straight ahead".
I felt that was a safer course with a car that was out of control, than making any sudden moves that I feared would flip the car.
So we raced in, the driver all this while was furiously "pumping" the brakes.
The road into the estate was a little bumpy at the time and suddenly, the car stopped. Then with the same speed, began to back itself right out of the estate.
We all began to yell. There was a river just before the estate gates remember?
My partner placed his hands on the steering and together with the driver, they struggled to contain the car. On that high speed, we reversed right out of the estate, navigated past the river and began the slightly hilly climb back up the highway.
Perhaps it was that slight incline that helped.
I was worried about the "monument" holding the estate signage and the fact that we were going to be backing right onto a link road used mostly by tankers, trailers and luxurious buses at that time of night.
Luckily, God was still looking out for us...
Just as we got to the monument, the car lost steam and stopped. Rolled forward a bit (at this point, I began to fear we were going to speed right back into the estate), and then shuddered to a halt.
I ignored the cries of "wait, wait" from both the driver and my partner, and threw myself out of the car. Without pausing for breath, I turned to the driver: "oga, which kain devil be this?"
"Madam sorry, na the brakes fail."
"E fail abi your motor no get brakes before?"
"Na so e dey do sometimes."
"You know say na so e dey do na hin you dey use am carry passenger?"
"Madam no vex, I just say make I try my luck."
"Try your...".
I couldn't believe it.
And I didn't want to react.
Cos if I reacted, there would be a crime scene.
So I just walked away, back into the estate.
You would expect a car to have brakes, but somehow we had found ourselves in one that didn't. I didn't know the cars had no brakes, my partner didn't know at the point he entered the car, but the driver knew and kept quiet about it.
He wanted our money and he might not have known it, but at that point if anything had happened to us, it would have been "premeditated" for him - knowingly putting us in harm's way.
But we would have been injured or worse still, killed. God knows I was traumatised by that event and for a long while, avoided cabs. If we had had worse outcomes from that night, any attempts to reprimand the driver or get him punished, would have been after the fact.
The deed would have been done. People would have been injured. Lives would have been lost. Psyches would have been tampered with. Any "justice" received afterwards would have been like a slap on the wrists, doing little or nothing to assuage the effects.
Brakes on a car is a bit like the "no means no" gene in men. Every man is wired to have one but some fail and in some cases, the man simply refuses to apply the brakes when it is needed.
You do not knowingly stand in the path of a speeding car because you assume it should have a brake and the driver should be able to apply it when he sees you are not willing to get out of the way, you look out for number 1.
And number 1 is YOU.
You stand out of the way of a speeding car and if it still goes out of its way to follow you and knock you down, then it might bring sweet satisfaction to see the driver brought to justice - that is if you survive the resultant accident.
A small child could be forgiven for not knowing that they should get out of the way of a speeding car. Not so an older individual, particularly one with some knowledge of how car mechanics work. There would be no excuse for your standing in the way of a speeding car whose brake condition you are not aware of, then turn around to yell "accident" and insist, "no means no".
Yes, I am a anti-rape advocate. I spend my adult life advocating against rape and against victimising rape victims, but I am just going to get into the shower with this random drunk man I just met (with my phone in hand), and assume that while we were both naked in a warm shower - he would understand that "no means no".
Also because my nude body should not excite him because it is my body not his.
So, I accept his invitation to take a warm bath together. At no point, do I recall saying no to him, I have my device ready to blog the incident as soon as it stops happening... but I was "raped".
Because "no means no".
Sorry Amber Amour, but all you succeeded in proving with that little charade of yours, is that you are an irresponsible character who should be nowhere near anti-rape advocacy.
I wouldn't allow you in a room with teenagers because you do not understand responsibility, safety, limits and boundaries.
You would teach little girls and teenagers to stand in the way of a speeding car, one whose brake conditions you know absolutely nothing about, and expect not to get run over.
Because one of the cardinal rules you should be teaching in anti-rape advocacy, is "safety first".
Yours!
Not that of the aggressor.
Here's a backlink to the Amber Amour story... read and weep for all the wrong reasons..http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-3387273/Activist-27-live-blogged-RAPE-social-media-just-minutes-alleged-violent-sexual-assault-took-place-set-example-survivors-need-speak-up.html?ito=social-facebook
Picture credits: wikihow, carmodguide.com, blog.brakecenters.com and dailymail.couk
