We like it so

"Are our lights on?" I ask. Yes, they are. I muse on it for a few seconds then return to my conversation.

A friend of mine has just called to tell me his brother was in an accident.

"Corbeaux pee on you this month boy!" I joke, even though it’s not really funny. Two weeks before his cousin had got in an accident. Walking home after work — one street away from her house — a drunk driver ran up on the pavement and hit her. Both her legs had been seriously damaged, the kneecaps exposed, the skin and flesh lacerated. The miracle of it all was that she sustained no broken bones.

"But what the hell!" I turn to see what caused the outburst. The driver of a Mack truck is pelting down Wrightson Road behind us. But one can only see there is a truck following when it passes under one of the occasional lights on the road, for the driver doesn’t have on his headlights.

He’s on the right lane, the one that has got the worst of the warping and slipping that Wrightson Road is subject to, the one that makes the car go all wobbly and one can feel the steering pulling if one is going fast.

The traffic lights ahead of us change and the truck comes to a screeching stop behind us. We try to get the driver’s attention, to let him know his lights aren’t on. But he’s too busy laughing to notice. The lights change and he’s raring to go. We change into the left lane and the race is on to catch up with the truck driver. But he’s driving too fast for us to keep up.

Thankfully the traffic lights ahead turn red and he comes to a halt. We pull up next to him. Horns blaring we finally manage to get the attention of the guy seated next to him and tell him the lights are off. We drive off and leave the truck there. A short while after we see the truck coming up fast behind us. It soon overtakes us — even though we’re doing 80 kph. — and disappears, driving even faster once it’s on the highway. The headlights are still off.

My friend meanwhile tells me about his brother’s accident. He was coming home from work last Thursday when a driver broke the red light at the intersection at the Uriah Butler Highway and slammed into his car. Both vehicles were written off. One of my friend’s brother’s legs was broken in three places. The driver that broke the light had both legs broken, kneecaps severely damaged. Of course, when the ambulance arrived it took him, considering he was the more seriously injured of the two. Even though he caused the accident.

My friend’s brother was left on the highway in intense pain waiting for another ambulance to arrive and attend to him.

Two weeks ago I wrote about my father’s accident, where a drunk driver had run the red light and almost killed him. In the two weeks after that, there have been two serious car accidents involving people that I know. This doesn’t include those that make the papers, the ones where people have died.

At my dad’s hospital there is a guy who was also hit by a driver with the volatile combination of being drunk and being stupid. He’s paralysed from the neck down and has suffered brain damage as well. He’s in his early 20s.

But nothing will come out of this column. I will get some readers e-mailing me, wishing my dad and friends well and don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the sentiment. But the driver of the truck on Saturday night won’t read this.

And even if he did he won’t do anything different, because he’s safe in the knowledge that if he did get in an accident the chances are excellent that he won’t be hurt. Reckless, inconsiderate, dangerous driving is considered an integral part of what it means to be a Trini. Trinis are always late, always ready for a lime. Likewise, we boast that if one can drive in Trinidad one can drive anywhere, as though some divine entity has placed the onus on us to test and improve the capabilities of every driver out there.

The thing is it doesn’t matter what the tally at the end of the year is, how many friends; acquaintances; or loved ones are injured or killed.

We’ll still pour out onto the roads to drive like we have a collective death wish because that is what Trinis do. We like it so.

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