I Would Rather Not Fly Thank You

Depending on the school of thought you belong to, you can validly argue that technology may have done us more harm than good. On one hand, technology brought us nuclear bombs, ammunition and internet fraud. On the other hand, technology brought us diagnostic techniques and space exploration. So, the problem really is not the advancement of technology but it's application by the human race.

Air travel is probably one of the milestones of technology in terms of benefits to us humans. Airplanes have always intrigued me. I remember how excited and enchanted how I usually got whenever we visited my family friends who lived in Ipaja, a suburb around the airport, as a boy. The prospect of seeing planes fly so low and staring right at the bellies of such huge birds was hard to resist. Note that I said 'as a boy'. The story has since changed.

I believe I may have the worst and most severe form of aerophobia known to mankind now. I still enjoy watching them taxi around airports but the thought of flying in one of them immediately evokes a generalized anxiety/panic attack. All this started in adulthood and recent events have not helped in assuaging the problem.

Medical school was in Port Harcourt so I had to fly from Lagos as I had never actually ventured that far by road before as a child. The roads were an eyesore from what I had been told and especially since I was going to be travelling alone most of the time, air travel seemed the best option. What I have noticed however, is that the phobia has insidiously worsened since 2000 till date. I didn't freak out as much as I do now fourteen years ago. Chanchangi was in vogue those days and they were relatively safe. 

So, I took a few years off air travel as I was now based primarily in Lagos and within that period, Nigeria sadly experienced a few air crashes. The next time I had to fly was in 2011 for a wedding in Warri. I was a groomsman so 'dodging' the wedding was not a possibility so I summoned courage and packed a bag. We had booked an Aero Contractors flight from Lagos to Warri for the afternoon before the wedding online. I arrived at the airport with my e-ticket and was told at Aero check-in desk that the flight had been cancelled! No prior notice. No apologies. In retrospect, maybe it was God that was subtly asking me to go to my house. But, it was my guy's wedding and missing it would have been unpleasant. So, I wrestled fate and started scouring MM II for any Warri-bound flights on any airline at all. This was after the madness that accompanied trying to get a refund for the online ticket I had bought from Aero. Stress levels were up and I was not thinking properly any longer. The closest flight I got to Warri was a Consolidated Airlines flight to Benin. I desperately paid knowing I would still do a considerably long road trip to reach Warri. The plane was a small plane with propellers on the wings and I sat right by the window, there were no aisle seats. It was that small a plane. 

Shortly after take-off, the cabin gradually began to heat up. It was as if the higher we went, the hotter it became. We had subconsciously started fanning ourselves with newspapers and all before we realized an aircraft should not be that hot. The crew then explained that the air-conditioning had malfunctioned and urged us to 'bear with them'. It was not a particularly long flight so I thought we could manage as long as we landed safely. Then, I looked out of my window and noticed the propeller on the wing on that side was static. Hian! I didn't want to be the bearer of bad news so I quickly stretched to see if the opposite one was working and it was spinning normally. So we were effectively flying with one propeller. I think my heart rate doubled immediately. I was sweating and there was this strange quickening in my rectum. My eyes were fixated on that left propeller till we descended into Benin. Last year, a Consolidated Airline plane going to Akure crashed in Lagos.

I didn't travel anywhere again till November 2013. My to-flight was not eventful aside the occasional mid-flight sharp drops that I tried to handle like it was nothing even though each time I felt like shouting 'Blood of Jesus!'. My fro-flight however was a different kettle of fish entirely!. It was a Lagos-bound Arik flight from Heathrow and we had been in the air for about two hours or so when the drama started. The flight attendants were doing their routine in-flight meals when we experienced some turbulence. That didn't worry anybody much and the serving continued. I had rice and red wine in front of me when the aircraft started again. The jerking was not of this world and it kept on going like it was wrestling against some resistance to keep going forward. I quickly downed my red wine. As the Yorubas would say 'o ti doju e'. On my left was a young lady, probably in her early twenties. The lady on my right was slightly older, probably mid thirties and married. There are some days you just can never forget in your life. December 13 2013 was one of those days.

What followed was the most harrowing twenty minutes of my adult life. I tried to remain calm but it was hard. It didn't help that the pilot sounded like he was high on something each time he addressed the crew and passengers. Even the serving crew had vanished, they left their trolleys in the aisle and took cover somewhere. The ladies beside me however made the experience even more unforgettable. The lady on my left was melodramatic, she kept heaving as she freaked out. She kept repeating 'I won't do it again!!!'. It seemed like it was her main prayer point and but for the fact that it was obviously not the best time to ask, I became very curious as to what this 'thing' was. Each time I tried to pray in that spell of air madness, she would shout again and I would wonder. Was it some sort of atonement to avoid hell fire in the event of a crash or was it that she believed it was this 'thing' that was responsible for the turbulence we were facing? Or was she promising never to fly in a plane again ever?

The lady on my right was apparently pregnant and the turbulence caused a glitch in her physiology. She held my arm tightly as I tried to calm her down. That would not have been a nice position to be found. Arm in arm with a strange married woman. The rescuers would have quickly postulated in their minds and muttered 'na God catch these ones' under their breath. She then began to vomit uncontrollably. There were no bags or bowls on board so we made do with the foil bowls our food was served in. Each time the aircraft swerved, she would throw up. I started wondering if she had a drum of cereal in London before she boarded the flight because she defied science with the quantity of her vomitus. I ended up mopping with Arik's disposable blankets.

In that time, I had quickly examined the flight map and thankfully noted we were flying over Portugal or something. Location was important to me as I didn't wish to crash in Africa, then rescue efforts, if any at all, would have been most likely futile. I needed a fighting chance and crashing in Europe would have tipped the odds of surviving in my favour, no matter how slim the margins. Also, if I eventually did crash and did not survive, at least it would be on record that I met my end in Europe and not Nigeria. The land had caused me a lot of hardship, it won't have been fair to lose the battle there again. So Europe would have done just fine, thank you. I doubt I had been in such a gathering of prayer warriors before in my life. The tongues were flying left and centre. Death or the prospect of it will make even the worst atheists call on God. Then I asked,were they praying to be saved from death or were they asking to enter Heaven? Should death scare a saved ('born again')Christian that much? After all, we say Heaven is our home and we look forward to reigning with Christ. 

Another set of passengers at the rear of the aircraft however had different ideas. They repeatedly shouted 'E gba wa o' like it was an armed robbery and there were policemen around. We were at 30,000ft or so, who was the 'E gba wa' for exactly? I didn't quite understand but I figure at that point, anything would have done. When death is staring at you in the face, anything will do.

Eventually, our aircraft stabilized. Prayer of the saints maybe. But then I reckon the Dana plane that crashed in Iju in 2012 wasn't filled with adulterers and pharisees. Neither was the Sosoliso plane that nosedived in Port Harcourt in 2005. I'm certain they prayed too. 

Now, on a serious note, I woke up two days ago to news that a Malaysia Airlines aircraft from Kuala Lumpur to Beijing had suddenly vanished over the sea in Vietnam. There were 239 people on board. Till now, the whereabouts of that Boeing 777 is still not known. Authorities have asked relatives to expect the worst. What this means is that potentially 239 families are going to grieve. It's worse that there's still no closure on the fate of the aircraft. We must remember to pray for them and their families. It's been two days already, if indeed the plane has crashed, the chance of getting survivors reduces by the minute. How a plane that big has disappeared still beats me with all the aviation technology at our disposal. 

The risks are real and they are with us. But like someone said recently, air crashes are never natural disasters.


P.S...

It's been a month since Segun 'Segla' Adebo left us. Continue to rest in the Lord's bosom my friend and brother. #SunRe #SegunAdebo