Good people, God will bless you for wishing me well. I am so touched. I appreciate it.
Now that I am much better, my body no ache again, I fit narrate my accident story. Sometimes there is a little voice that speaks to us but we choose not to listen. It was a nice day and I planned on ending my day by buying hair so that I call look hot as usual
. I embarked on a trip from my NW side to SW side all in the name of bargains. As an Ijebu woman, there's hardly an bargain news I hear that I don't seek out
.
The drive to SW was lovely though it started raining cats and dogs. I drove up and down a SW major road pricing fine human hair, especially looking for that particular brand that one girl in my church looked hot in. I eventually made up my mind and decided to drive back home to compare prices in my NW neck of the woods. I was hungry and I didn't feel like cooking so I wanted to buy a TV dinner. It was out of the ordinary for me since I don't usually eat what I don't cook.
I stopped by a grocery store in SW and went to the freezer section. Right there and then, something told me to abandon the store and leave. I dropped my shopping basket and headed for the door. Upon reaching the door, I remembered that I actually came to buy something. I went back in and dropped the basket a second time and headed for the exit. I kept hearing a voice telling me to go to the store near my house in NW. I some how found a way to drown out the voice. I went back in and purchased my tv dinner, all the while complaining that it was much expensive than I thought. I headed out to the parking lot.
I got in my car and as I put my key in the ignition, I noticed a black and red truck behind me. I honked my horn and asked them to move. I noticed that a man, the driver had exited the vehicle to have a chat with a man and a lady in another truck, a white one. Eventually, after I honked a few times, this Mexican man moved his truck. I took a second look behind me and I saw that the truck parked across was a white GMC truck, with a Mexican couple. Immediately, my "kokoye" alarm went off, I honked my horn as I was reversing to prevent them from hitting me since many of them drive erratically.
Before I could say Jack Robinson, I heard a loud bang. I stopped and I was livid. I got out and I was so angry, I was about to take my wig off
. Yes, I was going to do a Yoruba woman, I no go gree display for them that I just saw in one movie
. I was just about to calm down, then I heard the Mexican man say "Me hit you, me fix no problemo". I asked for insurance and then I they switched to Spanish. I quickly got in the car, brought out my camera and started taking pictures. The Mexican woman blocked the license plate and I went berserk. I was livid and ready to explode but got myself composed enough to call the Sheriff's department for police presence.
Before I could say Jack Robinson again, the Mexican driving kokoye man had vamoosed. The other red and black truck had vamoosed has well. I was perplexed, knowing the Olopa aka Police never arrive. I was now left with the woman (passenger) and another woman who was in the red and black truck. The security people showed up and the police man showed up soon after.
I narrated my story and to my surprise, this passenger woman via her English translator red truck passenger woman said she was the one driving the truck. I was in shock and that she had no insurance. The police officer was a black man. He didn't seem to care as long as the woman was going to fix my car. In my neck of the woods, crap like that doesn't fly. You say such, you get nabbed. There's no free pass for admitting that you don have at least liability insurance. I was in shock. I also found out that the man ran way because he was a married man and that the passenger was his mistress. I think he didn't give out his insurance because his wife would have found it if I filed a claim.
The police officer asked her one more time if she had insurance and she responded via her translator that she had on her own car but she didn't own the truck. He told her that she needed proof or proceedings were going to go forth to revoke her license and the registered truck owner, if they didn't show proof that they could fix my car. Promptly afterward, a young Spanish guy came to gave the officer her proof of insurance.
I don't know what they said to the police officer but he told me that they were willing to fix my car the next day ASAP. I asked how, he said they uncle had a body shop. Long story short, I agreed and they fixed my car. The initial job was botched, but after I took my Naija area boy with big ig
e ( muscles), they fixed my car right. I picked it up today and I glad they fixed it.
Imagine the English translator wanted me, a whole SNB to sign and say I collected my car, blah, blah. I told her if she could equally sign a letter saying that she hit my car with no insurance, we would be even. That shut her right up, off I went.
From now on, I see Mexicans driving, I change lanes. I hear that small still voice, I listen. God talks, we should learn to listen. If only I had listened , I would have avoided the disaster. BTW, I ended up buying the hair om my side. I got hooked up and boy does my hair look nice
. I look hot as well. God does good works!
THANK GOD Serious_Naijababe Is OK 
Linear Mode
RSS Feeds |
Podcasts
