Tuesday, May 10, 2022

Tumu the Man Who Saved an Idiot

ELEVEN days back, on a perfect weekend- Friday night, I stayed out in the chill longer than usual. It was during a mega event with my contemporaries.  There was prolonged sipping, talk, some dance and the lights heightened the reaction of the munchies extraordinarily. Here is my Story.

When time for rolling back home came, things turned out theatrical, yes and exceedingly so. A colleague who noticed how argumentative I had grown, offered to give me a lead-car support. His car ahead of me as we drove back home. I followed him with an extreme gig on the accelerator, - courtesy of Guinness, that thick aromatic Irish beer. Just know, it was hazardous!

This is a narrative of an Angelic intervention.  A thing rarely expected from a group largely perceived as disloyal. I had never appreciated any boda-boda rider in this country. Just know, these guys always made me sick. Until this day, I considered them as people who; respect no body, act stupid always, dupe their clients flat and are unjustifiably hysterical.  

My lead car soon disappeared in the thin air, just like that. I can’t explain what exactly happened. What I know is that my colleague had his own doze to deal with. So I found myself at a Total petrol station failing to position the car correctly so as to refill gas.  I requested the attendant to do for me two things; position the car well and fill up the tank after confessing that I was fully tanked-up.

A Ugsh20,000 note filled up my tank and there was a balance of Ugsh5,000 handed back to me. This is when I remembered that I had already taken enough gas in the morning ahead of a planned travel to the village that afternoon. I hadn’t anticipated getting this submerged.

There was a boda-boda rider who enjoyed my show at the petrol station. He kept a considerate gaze at me, as if I were his uncle. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t trust his look. Brownish, slender young man with a protracted nose, wide mouth. His so many large white teeth were visible at night. It was already a half past midnight and I desperately needed to get home safe. There was no traffic jam, and the few automobiles moved at breakneck speed, making it risky for a blotto.

“Why are you over looking at me like that my brother?” I asked the boda-boy. He responded with a smile and, “nothing sir”. I opened up to him and ask for a favor to ride ahead of me without allowing me go the wrong way. “Okay sir”, he agreed. His name is Tumu…something William, I can’t remember fully. Tumu stopped twice, hooting to guide me through until we reached home. Tumu opened the gate and closed with my instructions. He opened the house door and picked two laptops from the car putting them in the bedroom and asked for a negligible 2k for his service, but I offered 5k and gave him my number, to call me back when the sun is up.

Tumu hasn’t called me until now, I think he was an Angel from heaven.  I hope he lives down here with us. This reminds me of what English poet, William Blake said, “to generalize is to be an idiot”. Indeed, despite the criminal elements within the boda-boda riders today, I refuse to be idiotic by carrying all these guys in the same wagon again. People like Tumu are real saints who live amidst this wrongly projected fraternity. He saved my life. May God reward you Tumu wherever you are.