Hmmm, I wouldn’t say I’m a car person, as a matter of fact I don’t believe I know much about them. It actually fascinates me when i watch my friends go gaga at the mention of some car models; even my twin Sani yesterday kept buzzing my ears about a ride that drove passed us on our way from work. Well its true having a ride, not just any ride, a cool ride was one of the nicest ways to live life and it’s also absolutely true that girls get hypnotized by the coolest cars, you name it. But personally, I like cars because they save me the trouble of running around on foot; little wonder I go ‘geezs’ when I see my friends scream when these cars horn or even park close to them. Most times, they don’t hesitate to respond amiably to the driver; whether he was the owner of the car or not, never seems to bother them. Well as for me, there’s this one car i sure loath…Peugeot 406.
“Why do you hate the car” Jude asked me as we halted spontaneously few meters away from the stretched palm of the traffic warder, while the said car took the next turn.
“I just hate it’ was all I said.
In the streets of Abuja- at least the part where I stay and move around within- with every glance I make, I find the car staring right back at me like it was haunting me or something. Left, right, front, back, it was there. But the particular color I abhor most was the navy blue color….Gosh! I hated the sight of it…
“It’s a cool car and having it populous makes it cheap, you wouldn’t blame people for driving it”. Jude explained as he turned the steering wheel of his Mercedes Benz (don’t know ask me the model because I have no idea). Well of course, I wouldn’t blame people for driving the car but I wanted to believe that it was because it was regnant I hated it. Then I thought sincerely to myself, probably that wasn’t the reason…..
“It reminded me of him”. I confessed.
I met him for the first time in that car. I didn’t even know he owned a car as I moved swiftly down the sidewalks of my street while the streetlights illuminated my path. A novel was stuck beneath my arm and I ignored the cheering whispers of the guys walking pass me, pretending I was deaf. “Hey fine girl” they jested….
I dialed his number for the tenth time and he said he was behind the Liberty Bible Church just few meters away from Mr Biggs, Jabi. Well I was there and I wasn’t seeing him, at least the pedestrian him, so I called again. Then he said he could see me, I should look towards the Peugeot 406 in front of me. Yeah, of course.
About the car being cool, well I knew about that too, because He pulled his seat backward one time and insisted I move close enough to rest my head on his chest. And I could hear his heart beat, the rapid boom boom….wanted to believe it was because of me.
It was also in the car, I shared a kiss…nah kisses with him…just that anyway. And I could feel the heat, the relay race in the my mind and the several galloping of hurdles to give out the baton.. That would be my heart, i think. Honestly, I felt my world spin and the contractions of my abdomen tighten. Want! That was what it was and I never realized I still had it in me. And I thought, probably he was the one.
It was also that car, that made it possible for me to spot him out easily when he came calling and I would rush out from the house like a kid whose name had just been called out as a winner of a science fair or had just spotted out an Airplane in the sky. I would walk down the driveway of the little sidewalk at Jabi, looking out for the crested upright lion at the back of a navy-blue Peugeot 406. Then I would find him sitting exhaustively behind the wheels… waiting.
It was in that car, we laughed and teased each other, pondering about what the future could possibly hold for us and what our fates would probably be.
It was also in that car he uttered those three impeccable words “I love you” but then, I didn’t want to hear them because I was still afraid…afraid of myself.
Well, it was also in that car, I felt the need to walk away after he told me I wasn’t suitable even after all the effort to rid the fear. It didn’t have to take a Hummer jeep, a racing sport car or a Land rover or whatever for a heart to get ripped apart. It took a Peugeot 406…….If you ask me, I still don’t know much about cars but I do know it’s the man behind the wheel I should be more concerned about.
Then I realized it wasn’t the Peugeot 406 I hated….it was the driver behind it…
Written by Quincy Iwediokpulu; 15th July, 2011