This has been a very sad day for me.
While on my way to work, I decided to tank up this morning instead of in the afternoon after work. After pulling out of the gas station, I approached an intersection and started across. The bus in front of me stopped and I had to stop as well inspite of being in the middle of the intersection. That's when I noticed something strange. It was around 7:30am.
On the opposing lane, people were moving into the middle of the road enmasse. Shielded by the bus, I had not witnessed that an accident had occurred on the other side (not caused by the bus).
Almost immediately, a man carrying a child in his arms ran up to me and asked to rush the child to hospital.
Not thinking twice, I unlocked the back door and let them in. I made a quick U-turn and sped for the hospital, about 500 meters away. The kid was in a bad way. I could hear her throat gurgling with blood. A head injury. The man, a bystander, tried to talk to her, telling her to stay awake and breath. I concentrated on driving while saying a prayer for the kid. The man kept deploring the lack of concern of the other drivers. No one wanted to take the child or the parents to hospital.
We arrived at the emergency entrance where the kid was taken to the ER. The man who had carried her immediately left, saying that he had left his bike at the scene and needed to get back. I stayed. The kid was alone, her parents still at the scene of the accident and I was her only link at the time. They took her into surgery immediately.
It was about 15 or 20 minutes later when another vehicle arrived carrying the mother. Her injuries were less severe than her daughter, a broken wrist, and a lot of scratches and small cuts.
I could have left then. But the memory of that child kept me there, wanting to know if she was going to be okay.
Presently the police arrived carrying her father. He was dead. His body practically ripped apart. His helmet had not saved him. His wife and child had not been wearing helmets. Everyone was cautioned not to let the wife know yet. It had taken more than 30 minutes to take him to hospital, just 500 meters from the scene.
I sat outside the ER waiting for news. Finally, around 9:00am the nurse came out and informed me that Kylie Marie, aged 8, had died.
I left, got in the car and cried.
I visited Kylie's mother at the hospital after work. She had learned
that she had lost both her husband and child only an hour before I
arrived. I had found Kylie's bag in the back seat of my car. It was filled with clothes and also had her school ID which is how I learned her name. Her uncle said that she was a second honor student.
I got the full story later.
A drunk delivery van driver had hit another vehicle in another part of the city and left the scene. He had sped through the city until he reached that intersection. A taxi, trying to get the jump on the vehicles in front overtook the line of vehicles at the intersection and met the on-coming delivery van. They both swerved to avoid collision but swerved towards the same spot, the motorcycle where the father, mother and child were patiently waiting for the light to turn green.
Why do people drink and drive? I'm sure they know that drinking impairs their ability to drive and yet, drink anyway. Worse, after drinking themselves drunk, they forget about this fact and drive like maniacs.
Why do people, trying to get ahead of the others, take risks with their lives as well as other people's lives? They think themselves as gods? That it will "never happen to them"?
Why do people, seeing other people get hurt, not lend a helping hand? I had truly believed that I had changed my decision to tank up in the morning instead of the afternoon because I would be there at that intersection at the right time to take little Kylie to hospital. But they had attempted to flag down other drivers before they got to me. Maybe it might not have made a difference, her injuries were so severe. But still...
If Kylie had been wearing a helmet, she might have survived. Her injuries were to the head. Her father had died not because he was wearing a helmet, but because his body had taken the brunt of the impact. Her mother was just fortunate.
As a Christian, I believe that things happen for a purpose. But God moves in mysterious ways. I may not know why this terrible thing happened and what my purpose was in being a part of it but things happen for the best. It just may not seem that way right now.
regards,
Vulcan
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