Near Death by ‘Poda Poda’

One of the most frequently asked questions I get is always, “Is it safe to live in Africa?” Well, think about it. Is anywhere safe? Safe is a relative term. Anyone of us could step out and be run over by a MACK truck tomorrow. We live, breath, and walk in the grace of God understanding that ‘life is a vapor, here today and gone tomorrow’. The important thing is that we do not live in a spirit of fear. Fear is what keeps us from grasping all that God has for us. It binds us and robs of many beautiful life experiences. I am not advocating for reckless stupidity! However, I am a strong supporter of sensible risk taking!

So, today I wanted to share a sensible risk taking story with you. The other day I went to see my friend Eddie and to greet his family. Night fell, so I had to come back to my house by Poda Poda. The Poda Poda, or bush taxi, is the public transportation in Sierra Leone. The best way to describe it is; a rattling conglomerate of bolts, screws, tires, and half of a motor, all within a small van made to safely seat 8, but often seats 20 or more. You wave down a poda poda and ask the apprentice (the money taker) where they are going and where you would like to ‘come down’. Then you crawl in the rusty can of sardines and hope to find at least 6 inched of seat to squeeze into. Imagine, the heat on a rainy humid night and an Akon song turned up so loud that he actually sounds pretty good! The floor was so rusted that you could see the road underneath in some parts. As we rode together, the driver had no concept of dodging the puddles or holes in the road. Even my fellow Africa sardines were yelling at him and asking him to slow down. It is common for some of the drivers to be under the influence at times, so you really just pray and ask God to help you when you enter the ‘can of chance’.

I was praying as we bounced all over the back seat. I was in the middle on the back row between 4 other people; two on the left and two on the right. I am sure our silhouettes were comical from behind as we bounced and swayed from the wreckless driving. We approached a narrow bridge over a large river near Grafton, the neighborhood where I stay. After the bridge, there is a steep hill that climbs over a side of the mountain. As we started crossing the bridge, the driver then hit the gas as hard as he could and we sputtered up the hill. Just as we reached the steepest part of the hill, the poda poda choked down. Instead of the driver hitting the brakes, he pushed in the clutch and we started to roll backwards. The lights of the poda poda were dark from lack of power, and all I could think about was that small bridge and river down behind us. Before I knew it, Eddie, my brother, grabbed my hand and pulled me to the the front to try and jump out. Meanwhile, the apprentice was guarding the door, not allowing anyone out. I have never seen so many people move from the back of a van to the front in such a timely and efficient manner. Finally, the driver started the van back up and we were on our way again. Then the lectures from all the scared riders began. He was scolded so well! I thanked God that nothing horrible happened and can laugh about it now. My friend Donald said, “If you and Eddie were not in that Poda Poda, it would have went in the river! God saved them all because you were there!” I don’t know if that is true, but I am happy for God’s mercy.

Will I ride the Poda Poda again? Most definitely! But next time, I will ride in the front and next to the door! ;-)