Third Time Lucky

The idiom, "Third Time Lucky", was what readily came to my mind when I came out of bandits infested area without any incident. Although I thought of the idiom in an upside-down manner, I think it's appropriate to use it in such a situation: It is "used to express the hope that, after twice failing to accomplish something, one may succeed in the third attempt." But in my case, what I meant was that I succeeded three times in getting out of a dangerous situation. Here is how this latest incident happened... 

While returning from Ɗanmusa, Katsina State, where we accompanied the Katsina State Gubernatorial Candidate of the All Progressives Congress, APC, Dr. Dikko Umar Radda, on a campaign tour, we got a punctured tire after hitting a pothole. And it happened less than ten kilometers out of Ɗanmusa, smack in the bush.

Now, that road between Ƴantumaki and Ɗanmusa is one of the most notorious flashpoints where people are kidnapped in Katsina State. My companion, Abdul'aziz Lawal Ɗanyari, in whose car we were travelling, had told us two days ago that he dreamed that we had been kidnapped. So, the moment I heard the swish of air rushing out of the punctured tire, that dream flashed through my mind and made me wonder whether it was going to come true. Ɗanyari said he wasn't going to stop till we reached a village. So, we continued to drive on the damaged tire, wobbling on the road till we reached a small settlement. When we enquired, we were told that the name of the settlement was Tashar-Dungu. 

We came out after parking the car by the roadside. I silently prayed that we had a spare tire and Ɗanyari confidently confirmed that we had. I  surveyed the settlement before coming out, hoping that we had not driven into the bandits' den. A motorcyclist immediately rode behind us and parked his bike beside our car. He looked and dressed like a bandit. My heart skipped a bit when he parked the motorcycle and came towards us. I looked hard at him to see if he had a gun with him. But I needn't have gotten rattled as he lived in the settlement and had only come to assist. 

We took out the spare tire and some of the villagers came to assist in replacing the punctured tire. We brought out the jack and with a sinking feeling realized that there was no wheel spanner. We checked the whole boot but it was nowhere to be found. I tried to suppress a feeling of panic that was threatening to overwhelm me. I looked at Ɗanyari hoping for a solution. He then asked the motorcyclist if he could get a wheel spanner for us from a vulcanizer in the next village and he answered in the affirmative. 

After he had gone, I went to the roadside and tried to stop passing vehicles with the hope of getting assistance from them, but none stopped. I began to wave frantically at them, but even the passing campaign vehicles were scared of stopping in that area, in spite of the fact that I was wearing a gown with the candidate's logo slap in the front. 

After about fifteen minutes of tension, the motorcyclist returned with a rusty cross wheel spanner that was cracked. We quickly loosened the bolts, but one of them that came off after exerting so much strength stuck in the mouth of the spanner. We couldn't get it off and there was yet another bolt to loosen. With much manoeuvring and skill we finally got it off. 

Then another problem confronted us when we realised that there was no winding hand to lift up the jack! We got into another round f panic... We searched the car again, but only came up with an old spanner, but no winding hand! So, we used the spanner and began to turn the jack inch by inch. 

I left them doing that and went back to the roadside and continued to stop passing vehicles without much hope. All the while, my eyes were darting everywhere for any sign of bandits coming out of the bush, either on foot or in a convoy of motorcycles. I looked around for possible hiding places but everywhere was clear as crops had been cleared a long time ago. And to enhance security, the bushes close to the road had been burnt giving a long clear view. 

Then, Ɗanyari, who had in-laws in Ɗanmusa, called one of them and told them the situation we were in. He, immediately, sent someone from Ɗanmusa to come and rescue us. It was while we were waiting that a lone car, without campaign logo, came roaring on top speed and passed me waving frantically. The driver looked at me while passing, then slowed down, braked and reversed until he reached me. Two of them were in the car. When he stopped, I felt like hugging the driver. They came out and the driver smiled and said, "Director, what happened?".

It was the Director, Diversity Committee of the Katsina APC Campaign Council, Prince Uche Okonkwo! His committee was in charge of all non-indigenous people living in Katsina. We had been meeting together at the campaign council and we had become friendly.

Man! Was I glad he had stopped...

When I explained the situation, he said he wasn't sure if there was a winding hand in the car as it was his wife's car and he had forgotten to check those things before coming out. We quickly checked in the boot and were relieved to see the winding hand. But... It was stuck somewhere in the boot where the car had earlier been bashed by another car. Try as we might, we couldn't get it off. It was while we were doing that the man sent from Ɗanmusa screeched to a halt. And at the same time, the winding hand came off. Phew! Things suddenly changed for the better and we were quickly assisted in changing the tire. 

All is well that ends well... We finally drove off and left without any incident!