It was a lively day with the sun. I dressed sportily in my cap and sunglasses and came out of the house without a rush.

Three red-coloured dumper trucks were visibly parked on the cobblestone alleyway, not far from 50mtr on the main road. One looked like it was moving slowly for a while. What happened next came and passed as a mirage. In the end, I found myself close to a nearby house, clinging to its masonry wall.

It was before I had any thought of moving that the two trucks followed as they roared. The last driver from the three amidst the mayhem swore "Shebaw" (a term used to indicate an old man) through the window, aimed at me, most certainly as he thought my reaction was exaggerated. Thunderstruck and warped, I started to leave the scene and began to argue with myself not to be tied up by such a bizarre and dangerous overdrive.


Struggling to recover my mood that had been swung from frustration, I arrived at the taxi stand close to the neighbourhood. I had a chance to sit in the front. Next to me sat a short, wiry man with a face mask the same as mine. As the vehicle started to move, I sighed deeply and echoed with another breath to grab the attention of all in the minibus and perhaps swing their mood.

The driver and the guy sitting next to me showed heartening looks. I immediately complained about the weather, dubbing the close-to-noon sun as head-splitting. I also made some impromptu remarks. As I struggled with myself, whether it was right to make such an unenthusiastic statement, the young driver followed up with the complaints, compounding the matter with being behind the wheel the whole day.


I followed with how the weather started to feel blistering as I began to get infused with sweat. With the hope of twisting our topic, thus, our mood, I told them that it was not worth complaining about being seated under the comfort of a vehicle's cover. It looked like we all agreed.


Then surely but slowly, a traffic jam followed. Our chat never gave room for complaints. Suddenly, from a distance to the direction of our back, a red-coloured dumper truck started to honk its deafening horn. My mood swung again to the extent of making me feel the hot weather sweltering. Yet a moment of reflection came in handy to shift my mood for the better.

Then, I was encouraged to narrate the cobblestone alleyway road rage of the three red dumper trucks. The whole passengers in the minibus turned into an audience. As I finished my anecdotes, wishing someone to have a reflection on the almost near-miss accident. The guy next to me, a public prosecutor, continued his astonishing anecdotes. He was in the fieldwork and, graphically through laments, narrated several fatal road accidents he is busy investigating and eventually takes to the court of law.

He focused on the silver lining post facto regrets that almost all youngsters were drivers in several fatal accidents, a positive part of being human that can only help them make clever choices only in their future lives. As I got off the taxi, I pondered the need for daily reflection on what made our day, not the day we wished for, and how we reacted.


Surprisingly, it was a principle further encouraged by the play I was going to see that day; Woody Allen's "Husbands & Wives", adopted here for the stage by Samuel Tesfaye at the historic National Theatre. Life lesson disregarded by the freewheeling three young red-coloured truck drivers, as well as all the younger convicts of reckless driving awaiting their verdict, the two couples in the play, yet a message to be publicised everywhere.

No one is perfect, and our challenges are different by the day. We must prepare to straighten our imperfections through reflections on our journeys and act with second thoughts that allow us time to regret.

That sunny Saturday was wrapped up by a play set on a revolving stage, with a stirring impact from a story that reflected a lasting effect on reality. We are as comfortable as possible amidst imperfections through continuous reflection and acting with second thoughts. Failure to follow denies us not feeling the comforts of our everyday circumstances.



PUBLISHED ON Nov 26,2022 [ VOL 23 , NO 1178]




Tadesse Tsegaye (seetadnow@gmail.com), a polyglot with experience in multicultural-cum-institutional settings in resources management.





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