VEHOPHOBIA AWARENESS
On That Rainy Day, My Courage Died
Why vehophobia is no joke
A traumatic car crash
I was 6 years old when it happened. To this day, I can only remember brief glimpses of scenes and fragments of conversations from what transpired, strangely all in vivid technicolor.
For instance, I remember the blueness of the sky viewed from the backseat of the car sandwiched between my similar-aged friend, Ari, and three adults — my mom and her two friends who were siblings.
I recall it had rained and the roads were wet. They were also slippery as I overheard the new and nervous driver mention it.
Suddenly a guy on a motorcycle cut in front of the car and I heard an awful screeching sound. Then nothing.
Later, I heard that the sudden braking caused the car to flip over several times until it finally came to rest in a ditch on the side of the road.
Upon regaining consciousness, I found myself disoriented, seated in an inverted position with a broken window-sized view of the world outside. In my mind, I knew something had gone terribly wrong but was not quite sure what exactly. Suddenly a face appeared at the window — it was a Nigerian traffic policeman because I was familiar with the uniform —…
