I cried on the bridge last night. I was on a call to the famous Billionaire who was in a fight with my mentor. He didt like the fact that I was on the fence and said as much – you must stand by truth and justice ( and he was correct)
Suddenly, I started hearing sounds from the back of the car. It was late evening and we were at Adeniji Adele
The billionaire sensed I was distracted and dropped the phone.
I stopped the car and went down to check, and the tyre had peeled.
It had torn off and you could see the shiny wires that make up its components.
I gave up. I have five cars. The recent bought it just about 5 years ago and I know that I am long overdue for a new car
The economy, my huge running costs and my crass immaterialism all combine to make that project not a priority.
The cars have suffered me, from engine problems to gaskets, to plugs, to leaking oil.
Everything that wants to go wrong in the five cars has gone wrong.
This has seen me going back to a fraternity with mechanics, something I had stopped doing in the last 10 years.
I now have 5 mechanics on speed dial and the bastards have taken me to the cleaners
As we speak one engine has knocked, no spare tyre in the other one another one is showing ‘check engine’ and this one blew on the bridge
I have made money these past few years. Volumes have passed through me, and if I prioritise, I can squeeze out a nice small car.
But as I hobbled down the bridge last night with three and a half tyres on the car, the contradiction of my life hit me
Here I was, speaking with possibly one of the richest Nigerians alive in a rickety car, and my reality was hard.
I was not the supermarketer who has raised and is raising billions for projects; I’m not the influential media person with a strong bridge between the powerful and the poor; I was not the influential theatre producer who has employed thousands and done mighty shows, I was just a skinny little boy from Shomolu.
I was nothing. I was naked, I was just a label and I was just hollow
These cars have brought me down to earth. Pulled me down from my stratospheric orbit where I thought I was king
I was still that little boy whose mum gave him his first car-Peugeot 504
A car which taught me so many things. It humbled me, showed me how to manage mechanics, showed me perseverance in the face of its multiple breakdowns, showed me how to be technical-using fuel to wash the plugs and showed me how to be prayerful – praying for it to take me to work safely and back
I was back full circle. I had driven brand-new cars, used the very best in auto repair workshops and received emails from automated workshops on my next service days
This morning, I woken up early, crossed the highway and entered Shomolu, the land of my birth
The poverty hit me, and I inhaled it. I loved it, it sucked me in
I didn’t want the brand new tyres of the workshops on the island; I wanted to sit with the tokunbo tyre seller, the errant Vulcaniser and hear their stories and be part of them once again.
He had served his master for 7 years; this is his 7th, and he is not sure his master would give him his freedom money.
I looked at his torn Clothes, withered hands and handsome smile as he brought out tokunbo tyre after tokunbo tyre
He is 24 years old, with no education but a strong hope that – once my Oga gives me my money, I go make am
He got N50k for his troubles. I coudnt help but impact him. His smile was full of hope even though deep inside of me, I knew that the freedom money might be a mirage.
I am still in the bowels of Shomolu as I watch Yekini, the vulcanizer, struggle with my tyres.
He needs to fix it with his old tools. He is still in the same spot I left him 10 years ago and in the same clothes
He was but a baby when I met him as a trainee now he is his own boss, his oga had died but still at the same spot
He will get N100k after fixing my Tokunbo tyres , and I am sure he will pee cos he says he doesn’t even makeup to N10k in a week fixing holes that have refused to keep bursting.
Life hit me on that bridge last night. Some may think of me as a drama king but I know what hit me – life hit me
Thanks
Duke of Shomolu
