I am very uncomfortable owing anyone anything. I do not like people owing me either but i would take that ten times over owing anyone.
But i owe Nifemi my life. I have been told many times that he was just in the right place at the right time through God’s arrangement. So, i owe God, not him. But, they don’t understand.
There were 18 of us in that bus, travelling from Lagos to Abeokuta. It was not supposed to be a long journey but our driver was an old Aboki who loved his family more than anything.
I sat in the passenger’s seat and had to listen to him talk about his family non stop.
He was about telling me the ‘timetable’ for sexual intercourse with his three wives when a delivery truck hit our bus from behind. I remember Ismahil, the Aboki, chanting Islamic prayers while trying to get the bus back in control. Previously sleeping passengers were wide awake with multiple prayers being offered.
A baby started crying. I could not compose myself well enough to pray.
The next hit, this time from my side of the bus, shocked most of the passengers into immediate death. I was thrown out of the bus. Or was it carried out? I woke up to find myself with no visible bodily injuries.
I walked back towards the upturned bus, trying to check for any other passenger who was alive or looked alive. Ismahil was alive, unconscious though and with a broken leg.
I found another man, in better shape, who followed me back to the road to wave down cars.
Nifemi’s car was the fourth car we flagged down. He had not stopped at first. I wonder why he reversed.
He came down to where the bus had crashed, noting those who were dead and those with injuries. He called some people and soon enough, we had ambulances.
I was running back and forth, trying to help with moving the injured passengers, when i suddenly collapsed.
At the hospital; Internal bleeding from a ruptured spleen. I had an emergency splenectomy and blood transfusion.
By the time i woke up, Nifemi had gone. He had called my parents and paid my hospital bills before leaving.
I got a call from him two weeks after i was discharged. Long story short, we started dating.
He was eager to get married and start a family. At 35years, with a successful company, all that was left was a wife.
I was not as eager. At 25years, with a boring routine job, i wanted more out of life before getting married.
This issue was a constant source of argument between us. Some of those arguments got really heated. Eventually, we agreed to wait for 18months. A wedding date was set.
Three months to the set date, i got a message from him;
“Sayo, i am now married. Jumoke was more ready for marriage than you are. I don’t want to be the reason you miss out on life. Be free, enjoy! I am really sorry.”
Stunned does not capture how i felt. Just so i would not think my phone was playing tricks on me, their wedding pictures suddenly started popping up everywhere. Hurt. Dismayed. Disappointed. I picked up my life and moved on. Two years on, i got married to Adedayo.
Two days ago, three years after Nifemi’s stunt, i got a message from him.
“Sayo, i know i hurt you. I heard about your marriage to Adedayo. How are the twins? I am so glad it all turned out well with you. I do not know if you ever forgave me but i hope you did… Because i need your help. The doctors have concluded that Jumoke is not fit to carry a pregnancy. She almost lost her life twice trying to do so. We were given surrogacy as an option. In all sincerity, Sayo, you are the first person that crossed my mind. Please, help us.”
What should i do?
He hurt me, but he first saved me… I feel i owe him.