NEW YEAR MISADVENTURE

To me every day counts as new for new beginning. But then just like many Nigerians, I also indulge in the annual sacramental to be in church on New Year’s Eve at all cost.

We decided to fellowship at John Bosco house for spiritual uplifting believing that the trajectory of blessings would be faster in our mortal understanding.

So the journey started at 10 o’clock, Google map told us our destination was just 45 minutes from home. We were relaxed, but 20 minutes into the journey, Google told us there was traffic ahead of us. My brother Gbenga calmly turned to his son, Google should have estimated the hitch time to the actual time therefore there was no reason to panic.

But nay, we were stuck in the traffic. 10 minutes tickled by without finding our way out of the stream of traffic systematically building up. By now, a silent edginess was creeping in. That meant 30 minutes into the hour of 10 without getting to a quarter of the journey.

A gentleman came along, he recommended an alternate route, Ope o I silently whispered. We did a quick spinning turn, navigating the car into a rough patched road we spent little time locating.

Aaaaaaah at last, heaving a sigh of relief.

But it was too soon.

We came to a screeching halt after a 5 minute drive! Another long spiraling Traffic was ahead!

Gbenga behind the wheels was bewildered with questions, talking loudly to himself “where are these people going sef?” Indeed, it was rush hour traffic, every route spilled out cars and pedestrians imaginable with mental visuals. Immovable for another 10 minutes yet the hand of the clock was racing fast against us.

We thankfully found a detour before we were wedged in the traffic. We made a fast decision to go to our former parish within our precinct. Google map gave us apt description of estimated time of arrival, 48 minutes with a slight traffic ahead. That meant arrival time to church would be 11.30!

We had just 30 minutes to midnight. My brother raced along James Bondly; Google map signposting our routes. Thankfully, traffic was free until 15 minutes to our destination. Damnit!

Aghast we crawled along for 5 minutes, our nerves jarring as we tried to ignore the furious ticking of the clock. We got a freeway and raced along.

Google announced we had arrived our destination, Gbenga jocularly told Google to shut up, he knew that. We burst out laughing anxiety easing its grip on our nerves. With the precision of an experienced Lagos driver, Gbenga sped into the large compound only for us to look up to find we were at St John’s Anglican church… oh no, not our destination.

The time was 8 minutes to midnight.

We speedily pulled out just as quickly as we drove in probably leaving the gateman wondering what was hot on our tails. Another 3 minutes we got to our destination.  We jumped out and rushed into the church to see mammoth crowd outside. It seemed the whole city had congregated there. Gbenga nko?  My matriarch reflex shrieking for answer. We did not see him come in through the gate; we left him to park the car. We were fretful! I restrained his first son from going out alone to look for his dad; we headed out to search for him. We did not see him but saw the car, another panic waves hit us.

Another 2 minutes tickled by.

His anxious son then called his mobile phone; he said he was already in the church. He took another gate into the church. Apprehension left us like air released from a balloon. We rushed back, waiting, and there he was strolling towards us. Just a little moment when he joined us, the fireworks and the ecstatic crowd announced it was midnight. Even the deaf knew the clock had knelled! We hugged each other, turned to follow the crowd out of the church. We knew we had not come to church but had merely taken an adventure on the 31^st.

9 am we went to our usual parish! No dramatic adventure. We knew we had attended service.

Now looking back, I think my husband should issue a ticket to Gbenga for JAMES BONDING!

Aaaaaah it was indeed an adventure!