Thirty minutes later, a team of fire-fighters was on site. The body of the vehicle had been terribly mangled. The two passengers had been trapped in there, in God-knows-what state, and the teeming crowd was excited. Would this be a lost cause? Or it would be the testimony of another miracle that would be shared from church to church the next Sunday with vim and gusto?
“Officer, I say I see the accident as it has happen.”
The police officer beckoned for the radio correspondent to come interview the eyewitness.
“So I go to farm to get some cassava to sell because my husband has fight with me yesterday and don’t want to give me chop money. That man…”
“Madam, please go straight to the point and tell us what happened,” the guy from the radio station interjected.
“Okay. Sorry. So as I am saying, I go to the farm and then I remember that I have a dream the previous day. Before that dream, I was watching tv when man of God on the tv say we should touch tv and bond all the demons sitting on our prop…pross…prospority. So as I was sleeping that night and I catch that dream, I knew God has answered my prayers. Ahaa, so as I am saying…”
“Oh, wait eh. I was leaving the farm because in my dream, something bad happen. Just a few place from where I was, I see this same red car running fast fast down the road. All of a sudden, the car just start driving off the road and then one of the tires ran away! That was when it started somersorted. It somersort three times front, then two left. Then last show, it somersort back.”
“You mean the car was somersaulting forward and it somersaulted backward?”
“Yes,” she replied.
He shook his head, left her and walked on to gather more credible information about the accident.
By then, the fire-fighters had managed to cut through the metal and created access to the silent bodies of Mr and Mrs Balogun.
The paramedics took over from there. One checked for a pulse in both bodies. There was none in Mr Femi Balogun; he was dead.
“Hey, hey! Over here!” He had detected a faint course of veinous activity in Asieduah’s neck. The team immediately initiated emergency protocol.
The awkward position in which her head lay required that she be lifted unto the stretcher with a special technique. Mechanical ventilation support was given and then the ambulance sped off.
Madam Rosina walked tiredly out of the room where she had been marking the scripts of the senior class. She had descended the staircase that led to the staff room of Kingsway International School when she caught sight of the two boys sitting on the pavement. She checked the time on her phone; it was 1732 hours GMT. School closed more than two hours ago, around 3 pm. How come they were still on the school premises? She got closer.
“Uche, Kobina, where is your brother Joe? And where are your parents?”
Kobina, the eldest, answered. “Madam please Joe is going to urinate. And we have been waiting for our parents to pick us since we closed but they have not come.”
Madam Rosina checked the school database for the contact numbers of Mr and Mrs Balogun. She tried to call. She got the same response on both occasions:
“The number you have dialled is currently unavailable. Please call back later.”
She exhaled in exasperation.
What she did not know was that the flashy phones were in the dishonest pockets of two fire-fighters a few minutes from where she was.
She offered to drop them home.
Uche, the little one, slowly asked her in his innocent little voice, “Madam Rosina, where is my daddy?” She did not know what to say.
“He is at work okay? Let me take you home to mummy.”