Sunday, February 6, 2011

'Israelite Journey' By Adesina Ogunlana

We are told by the Holy Bible that there was a time that the Israelites, used a whopping and even unbelievable forty years to complete a journey of forty days.



In mathematical terms it would read like this:


40 days = 24 hours x 40 = 720 hours.


40 years = 24 hours x 30 x 12 x 40 = 345,600 hours.


The difference between the two periods of time is, I believe only too clear!


One Monday not too long ago when I left my humble abode in Isolo at 10.30 a.m, I least knew I was embarking on an Israelite’s journey. My destination was the Lagos High Court, Igbosere, Lagos at most 18 kilometres away. My appointment with the priestess of Justice was 11:30 a.m.


No reason to fear. An hour is,ordinarily more than adequate for a car to eat up 18 kilometres of road. However I had not taken even 150 metres from my “doormat” when I hit a frozen traffic. As a smart guy, I quickly wheeled out of the adanidurodonigbese traffic and turned back. Immediately I saw that taking the Aiye Bus stop, Lagos Polytechnic-Daleko Bridge route to come out on the Oshodi Expresss Road was out of the question.


The traffic situation was tighter than a Scrooge’s fist. A brain wave hit me; go quickly to Mile 2, come out on the Oshodi Express and run post haste to the court. I accepted the wave of the brain and felt happy I did, until I reached Okota Road. The traffic on this road was not fast flowing but then it was not under lock and key, so I gamely went on. By the time I reached the back of the Jakande Estate on Mile 2, the time was already 11:30 a.m. I sent a message to the opposing counsel in my matter that I was stuck in traffic but hoped to be in court before 12:30 p.m. Suddenly I looked up towards the Mile 2 Express Way and I gave a definite cry of agony; about one hundred and fifty metres away was a gummed together traffic jam.


On the Express! In real panic, I quickly turned back with the intention of passing through Festac Town to LASU and from there tear down to Ikeja. I was already about half way to Festac when it hit me - Festac to LASU route might be a good thoroughfare, likewise LASU to Isheri round-about; but what about from there to Akowonjo which would lead me to the Agege Motor Way on to Ikeja?


Everybody knows that Isheri road to Akowonjo has become one of the roads to hell in Lagos. I was in a fix and knew it. I couldn’t proceed yet retreat was equally daunting. Should I turn and proceed to Mile 2 where I would connect the Oshodi Express Way or should I go back to Okota Road? I quickly jettisoned the idea of going back to Okota Road. That would be like voluntarily jumping into a pot of boiling oil. So I headed back to the immobility on the Mile 2-Apapa Express Way. When I inched nearer enough, I noticed that the clamped up traffic existed only on the service lane.


After about twenty minutes, I sweated to an exit point, which presented two choices. The first choice was to roil on in the snail-speed traffic, down to under the Mile 2 Bridge and then resurrect on the Oshodi bound stretch of the Express Way. The second choice was to “fly” straight and forward to the Liverpool side of the Mile 2-Apapa Wharf Express Way, go up and round the Liverpool Bridge and emerge on the Express Way to Oshodi.


I quickly did a silent prayer and then settled for the Liverpool route. I doubt whether I had ever made a worse traffic way decision. Alas, Liverpool (the service lane bend that would take me up the bridge) turned out to be a flooded, marshy catacomb, buried in yawning pits vast enough to accommodate hippopotami! The stretch of the crater filled road was less than a hundred metres but I spent (with a lot of prayers and supplication) at least fifty minutes there. That the car and I got out safely should be considered a miracle. At one point, I tested the depth of the pool with my shoes before plunging in, and during the maneuvers, I developed the mindset of a kamikaze fighter pilot. When I finally broke free of all vehicular barriers, it was already 1: p.m. As I sped on to the court, I received a message on the phone: “The court was already hearing the matter.” Gosh. But what to do than to speed on? When I got to the court ‘at last at last,’ it was 1:30 p.m. Predictably the session had ended, the court risen. Wow, what a day. An Israelite journey day!