Are Nigerians under a car curse?

Most Nigerians are car crazy. I am a Nigerian who also loves cars but not that crazy about them. My love for cars was rooted in my desperation to take the driving seat right from childhood. I was hovering around 10 when I had a feel of the steering. There was this driving outfit located at the Kumasi Race Course, Kumasi, Ghana. With a fee, you could take two laps on the tracks and be a proud driver for some minutes.
The vehicles provided for the learners were known as “adoncho”. The Kenyans call it “matatu”. Adoncho is a small wooden body contraption fitted with an ordinary steering that required some strength in your arms to manipulate, while grinding your teeth at the same time. Because of my little frame, I had to sit on the laps of the instructor while holding the steering. The instructor would be the one pressing the throttle, pumping the clutch pedal, changing the gear and applying the brakes.
One afternoon, a neighbour sighted me during one of my driving lessons. He was so amazed at the way I was struggling with my instructor to let go of his hands on the steering as that was the only thing that gave me joy and profound satisfaction… being on the driving seat. I told the instructor he should only touch the steering in the event of my losing control of the vehicle. The neighbour went and alerted my old man, saying that I was driving “adoncho” at the race course… all by myself! The old man must have panicked and raced to the race course.

We were on the final lap when he arrived. On spotting him from afar, I ordered the surrogate driver to gather more speed. The instructor did not know the reason for the order. But he obeyed me all the same. It was when my old man began to shout on top of his voices, partly lost in the rising dust, that my trainer slowed down and gradually pulled to a stop. I bolted from the vehicle and vamoosed out of his sight. What he did to me when we eventually met at home is a story for another day. Until his death, he could not comprehend the vision l had by going for a driving lesson as a minor. Did I want to end up as a chauffeur later in life?
I got my first car, a Morris Marina, in the late 70s in Jos. It was customary to wash a new car. So, I invited some of my colleagues at the Nigeria Standard Newspaper to come and rejoice with me. One of the invitees was Dan Agbese who had joined the paper as the chief sub-editor.
To wash the car, I drove to a “suya” joint along Zaria Bye Pass, close to the Jankwano Hospital. Then the unexpected happened. A commercial driver rammed into the passenger side of the brand new car where I parked by the road side! I was enraged. But for the onlookers’ swift intervention, I would have committed manslaughter… because of a car! I went for the driver’s jugular and it was not easy to rescue his long neck from my lethal grip. He agreed to fix the damage. That incident nearly spoilt the car wash.
I have enjoyed driving all my life. And I think I qualify to enter the Guinness Book of World Records for an accident-free driving for over three decades.

As I said earlier, most if not all Nigerians are crazy about cars. This is understandable. Owning a car symbolises good life and separates you from Legcedes Benz ownership (a euphemism for “carlessness”. Owning a car quickly throws you up as a relatively successful man or a big boy. Some people would prefer to smoke garri, crack “kulikuli”, use pure water to wash down cabin biscuits or even live in a ghetto in order to drive a jeep. Many of such folks are found in Abuja.
What actually informed this write-up is the controversy generated by the decision of the House of Representatives to rake in some 28 units of Peugeot 508 valued at N3.6bn. This demonstration of profligacy has attracted condemnation from various quarters more so that automobile acquisition by the “honourable” members has already been monetised. This gargantuan appetite for choice cars by the Reps is coming at a time when recession has unleashed itself on millions of Nigerians, making life a hell on earth. However, it is not the first time the House is finding itself in the eye of the storm over car purchase. This has been a regular occurrence since the return of democracy in 1999, with corruption underlining the transactions. The records are there.
And in Anambra, the lawmakers, already “carful”, are demanding Prado Jeeps (not constituency projects) as a precondition to support Governor Willie Obiano’s re-election next year.

The unhealthy appetite for automobiles of the average Nigerian big man/woman or big boy/girl is showcased by the fleet of choice cars parked in his/her home… so many you would think you have missed your way to the Apapa Wharf in Lagos. By now, the 2017 models of some cars are already parked in many Nigerian homes despite the recession. Name them: Toyota, Honda, Ford and Mercedes Benz brands; Lexus (from luxury), Altima (from ultimate) and Akura. Huh? Did I write Akura when I meant Acura (from Accurate)? “Akura” means a eunuch in Yoruba!
It is this acquisitive tendency and insatiable hunger for cars that are responsible for the heavy traffic gridlocks in our major cities and towns. Everybody wants to demonstrate bigmanism. Even if public transportation system were available and efficient as it is the case in places like advanced countries, the average  Nigerian man or woman who can afford anything on wheels will prefer to hit the road with his/her car. We value cars more than our existence to the extent that if a neighbour sights you in your Legcedes Benz, the first question he will hit you with is: “Where is your car?!”
I will round off this piece with this joke which demonstrates how car crazy some Nigerians are. A man ran into a gang of car snatchers and this drama ensued.
Car snatchers: “Your car or your life?”
Victim: “Take my life but leave me with the car.”