I Almost Did Not get on the Bus
On Sunday, 17th November 2024, I woke up around 6 a.m. to a phone call from Sis. Edikan E. about joining the church evangelism team for an outreach to a secondary school in Eket. I had not seen the invitation earlier because I hadn’t been online. It was timely because I believe the Lord had been speaking to me a few weeks earlier about going out to evangelise. I had actually begun obeying, both corporately and personally, and here was another opportunity to obey further.
It would be my first time going with that number of brethren to reach out to an external group of people. We were 22 in number. I prepared and finally got to the departure venue by 8:04 a.m., which was late because we were to leave by 8:00 a.m. I was worried and near tears because I thought I had missed the bus, but the bus arrived later than I did, so I was able to join it. Initially, I wanted to be lapped by a sister, but gave up on the idea (my sitting position would be of great importance later in the testimony). Then I went to the back of the bus, where I was granted the feminine privilege of sitting at the extreme instead of being squished between two brothers. So I sat at the extreme right corner of the bus, and the journey began.
The Collision
Bro. Ambi started singing the song, “Tell It to Jesus,” and I remembered that I could have a conversation with the Lord even right there in the bus. So I gradually began speaking to the Lord, reflecting on all that had happened that morning, though not aloud.
The brothers beside me interrupted my reflection by tuning in to the church meeting in Uyo, which had already begun, and I joined in singing the memory verse —
“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory,” 2 Corinthians 4:17
Strangely, I began having impressions of a road traffic accident. I travel that particular road often with my father, and he typically drives more carefully on it because it’s quite narrow. So, because we weren’t moving as carefully or slowly, I just felt like something bad was going to happen. I ignored the thoughts because, I mean, how could we possibly be in a road traffic accident, right? Pride!
I even realised that we hadn’t prayed before we began the journey, but I felt like maybe Bro. Michael, our driver and team leader, had something else in mind. Also, maybe things were normally done differently from how I thought (remember it was my first time going for an outreach), so I didn’t mention it. Bro. Michael eventually said a short prayer after one of the bus tyres had an issue that made us stop by the road. I also heard later that likely a few seconds before the collision, he asked those in front to pray in the Spirit.
Thoughts came to my mind like, “Sit properly,” “Don’t lean on that metal too hard,” “Put your phone and your glasses in your bag,” but I wrote them off as just my overactive imagination.
All I remember is seeing a big black Prado moving erratically in front of us, tyres screeching, then the loud collision and myself being strongly propelled. While I was still conscious and flying forward, I just begged God in my heart, “Lord, please let me land safely.” By “safely,” I meant let me wherever or however I land, not leave me critically injured because I’ve heard a thing or two about the nature of injuries in head-on collisions.
God answered that prayer. I hit my head somewhere—I do not know where—but not too hard. It happened in split seconds, so I don’t know if I lost consciousness at some point, but I know that when I came back to my full senses, I realised that the ‘unthinkable’ had happened: we had been involved in a road traffic accident.
It felt like a dream at first. Maybe I would’ve remained where I landed for some time, trying to process what had just happened, but then the villagers started shouting and asking everyone who could to come out, as they feared a fire might break out.
I felt for my legs and hands, and when I realised they were intact, I thanked God silently in my heart and got up. When I stood up, I felt and saw blood running down from my head. I got a bit scared, but I was alive, conscious, and not in much pain, so it couldn’t have been that bad, I thought. I went to find my brethren who were unable to get out of the wreckage by themselves. I believe my injuries would have been far worse if I had sat in the original place I intended, but God was merciful.
My heart shattered when I saw Bro. Michael. He was semi-conscious and stuck in the wreckage. “What if a fire breaks out?” I thought. I screamed and cried. I prayed in the Spirit like I likely never had before. I’m almost certain I added some new syllables to my tongue’s vocabulary that day. I started wondering if maybe he was like the young female servant of God from a testimony I had watched online, who had a short time to spend on earth and then return to her Maker. Honestly, I thought he would die, or, best case scenario, come out alive but paralysed or without his lower limbs. I was torn between running away because I didn’t want to watch him die, or standing by him and watching him take his last breath with honour as a soldier of Christ.
I chose to run.
Injuries and Treatment
I went and helped my other brethren into the rescue truck while crying silently. Just as we were about to leave for the hospital, the villagers shouted and motioned to us to wait because they had just rescued Bro. Michael from the wreckage. When I saw him, I could not believe my eyes. He was whole and looked untouched except for a little blood on his lip and a scratch on his elbow. I monitored him all through the journey to see if he would move his fingers and toes, and he did move them, to the glory of God.
God was also involved in the lives of our brothers and sisters who had to spend more time in the hospital. I remember fearing for one’s life because he was unconscious and bleeding from his nose. I couldn’t even stand to look at him. Some sisters had fractures, and I was scared that they could lose their limbs. But God was very kind to us—they have not lost their limbs. They are fine and recovering well, even though I was heartbroken at the pain they had to go through.
I thank God generally for all my brethren. I could never possibly thank Him enough that none of us died or sustained very critical or ‘lifestyle-changing’ injuries. I feel God was very intentional about each person’s specific injury, including mine.
I sustained a relatively deep cut on my forehead and a minor wound on my lip. It didn’t hurt that much initially, but after I was sure my brethren were okay in the hospital and I settled down, the pain began to kick in. I thank God that the cut was not deeper or longer than it was.
I really thank God for Pastor, who made sure I got the best treatment and procedures possible. When I got home that day, I discovered some hidden wounds which were all minor and healed in days, even without any direct treatment. I also had severe body pains from the collision the day after, but I was fine in a few days. I had some serious, horrible reactions to a drug I was given for the wound. This, for me, was even more painful and torturous than all the injuries I sustained combined. But I thank God for being with me all through and for the healing He is working in my body.
I thank God that the wound on my head did not get infected, which was a concern because I had been moving up and down unattended for a while that day. The wound healed very fast, contrary to my initial expectations. I’m grateful that the initial fury and threats that arose from my family after they heard of the accident and saw my forehead died down with time. My father even took over the treatment after I returned from the hospital.
In line with what Pastor preached about laughter some weeks before the accident, I really believe that some brethren got jokes that were Spirit-inspired therapy for us—to keep us healthy and in good spirits all through our stay in the hospital and beyond, because I laughed and laughed and laughed. “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” Proverbs 17:22. Till today, some of the jokes still crack me up when I remember them.
The labour of love shown by my brethren who came around to help and those who came to visit was overwhelming. I am super grateful for the bonding and relationships formed on the day of the accident.
It was not only physical injuries that I sustained o. I struggled to sleep that night because the traumatic scenes kept playing in my head. I struggled with fear when I was in moving vehicles and with voices in my head. But the Lord has delivered and is still delivering me from them all.
My Scar
On Saturday morning, the day before the accident, I was doing my laundry when I felt led to listen to a song I had never really enjoyed listening to before. Surprisingly, I began to enjoy the song so much that I started screaming the lyrics while washing and spreading my clothes outside, not minding the stares I got from people.
The chorus of the song says,
“Excuse me if I get undignified,”
“You don’t know like I know what He has done for me.”
But that wasn’t even my favourite part. It was the part of the track that had a bass guitar drop. As a result, I sang the lyrics in that part more than I sang the lyrics in any other part of the song.
“The number of my scars are the number of my victories,”
“That’s why my praise can never be the same as yours.”
At some point, I had to pause and ask myself, “Wait o, which scars, abeg?” I really couldn’t understand why I was so hyped about the song. I don’t know if I set myself up with the lyrics of the song, or if the Holy Spirit was just gisting me about what was to happen to me the next day because I think He speaks to me often through music.
After the accident, having a scar was the last thing bothering me all through the treatment process. I didn’t really mind. But I’m still grateful to God that the scar is not hideous or scary, and it’s actually almost not visible unless you look closely or from a certain angle.
My Devices and Other Valuables
I ignored the voice that told me to put my phone and glasses in my bag, and immediately after the collision, I could not find either of them. I later found my glasses lying peacefully by a window with shattered glass around it. They were perfectly fine, and the lenses did not have a single crack or scratch on them. Thank God they didn’t even shatter into my eyes or something. There’s so much that could’ve gone wrong.
My phone on the other hand was missing for some hours, but a kind fellow reached out to me later that day when I was at the hospital, saying he found it lying by the road and had done everything in his power, including reporting to the police, just to have it safely sent to me. I received my phone some days later with the help of some friends, and apart from a light scratch on the screen guard, it was perfectly fine too.
Even another important gadget of mine that was inside my bag was preserved. My precious umbrella and my one and only head scarf that flew off my head from the impact were preserved as well.
I couldn’t take my earPods with me because I forgot them in the hostel that morning. I was so angry with myself for forgetting them, but I now see God’s hand in it because they almost certainly would have been in my ears during the journey and would have been damaged or gone missing after the collision. Interestingly, I kept having dreams and impressions within the week before the accident, of my earPods being crushed. I am grateful to God for preserving them by helping me to forget them in the hostel that morning.
I don’t really know why God kept my belongings like that for me, but I am grateful to Him because I know that whatever He does is good.
After the Accident
I began to inquire of the Lord concerning the event, and I believe the Lord spoke to me about His intervening, overarching mercy in my life, about dying to my flesh, and about a new level of strength He is giving me in different areas of my life.
I believe I have already begun walking in this strength, doing things that I could not do before now. Certain things feel much less like a burden for me. I don’t think words can sufficiently explain it but just know that in my weakness, God proved Himself my Strength. I am hoping and trusting that I will testify more and more about this journey subsequently.
For now, I thank the Lord my God for trusting me with this experience. I thank Him for being my Hope in this life that I am living, and for continually working good in me. I thank Him for allowing me the matchless honour of bearing His mark, however small, on my body. Above all, I thank Him for teaching me continually and practically the true meaning of love, because without love, the pain I went through, and even the scar I now have on my forehead, likely mean nothing. I pray that nothing steals my devotion to loving and serving Him wholeheartedly now and forever. Amen.
— Sis I.N
22nd Dec 2024
© God’s Lighthouse 2025
