One evening in 2005, on my way home from teaching a prep school English class, I was trying to cross the Mobolaji Bank Anthony highway into Ikeja GRA. If you’re familiar with this highway, you know how busy it can get around late afternoon/evening, with people heading to the airport to catch night flights. This particular day, however, it was even busier than usual. Every time it seemed like there was lull, I’d start to cross and a car would come zooming down at full speed, forcing me to retreat. This happened on and off for about 15 minutes and I was getting really frustrated. It had been a long day of teaching and I just wanted to be home. As I stood there waiting for a break, I sent up a silent, frustrated prayer:
“Lord, please help me cross this road. Even if it means sending me an angel, just help me cross please, I’m tired!”
A few moments later, an old woman stood a few paces in front of me, to my left. I don’t remember exactly where she’d come from, but I assumed she’d alighted from one of the buses dropping off passengers – I was standing at a Bus Stop. She was short but not small and caramel in complexion; with a slightly wrinkled face and piercing eyes. She wore a brown and cream ankara print blouse and wrapper, complete with a small head scarf. This woman turned to look at me with a smile in her eyes, turned back and then began crossing the road. She hadn’t said anything to me, but I instinctively followed her.
As we crossed, I noted that, for some reason, cars on both sides of the highway were stopping for her. I chalked it up to her being elderly. When we reached the other side of the road, I turned around to thank her for her help but she was gone.
Reader, she was gone.
I looked left, right, up, down, on the ground…she was nowhere to be found. There was no bus or other vehicle around which she could’ve somehow gotten into within seconds, without my seeing. Immediately, I remembered the half-hearted prayer I’d offered up before she came on the scene and my body ran cold and hot at the same time.
How did she know I’d been trying to cross the road? Why did she look at me and smile? How did she know to help me? Where did she go? Covered in goosebumps, I ran all the way home and told my mum the story.
Till today, I can still vividly picture her face and the smile in her eyes.
|