Source
It was the summer holidays in 2005 and I had just visited my hometown for the first time ever alongside parents and siblings. Praaah! and the holidays were over anyways, it was fun. Even though at this age I couldn't really define what it meant to have real fun.
September 11th, we set out back to base. We were just at the transview express way when the unimaginable happened. Dad's Peugeot 504 went numb, the brakes failed and disobediently, the car swerved far right almost hitting an orange hawker; a little girl probably same age as me. It was like a need for speed game for indeed, it was happening so fast.
Situation got critical as the car bumped into three roadside orange stalls, destroying virtually everything in it as the owners scampered for their dear lives. Now reality was dawning on me that we were enroute to heaven or hell.
Kaboom! Our car bashed against a huge tree trunk, in what someone would describe as a life saver after screaming "Jesus!" continuously as the unfortunate event unfolded.
After all, I remember Dad and mum with little sister were seated at the front and at the back; big brother, elder sister and petite me. If there was any relative, I couldn't recall. Dad was a good man, so was mum, siblings too were all good too and fortunately, are still good people.
Good news was that no life was lost and the car was not seriously damaged except for the front bumper of the pimped 504.
Bad news was ; Dad spent huge amount of money that day in settling destroyed commodities.
