On January 19 this year, I was shot in front of my house at about 8.20 pm.
The robbers made away with the Toyota Fortuner I was using in addition to whatever else was in the car – my cards, some cash, newly acquired international driver’s licence (because myself and some of my Botweburg brothers were planning a road trip to go watch our beloved Black Stars play in the AFCON in Cote d’Ivoire the following day), laptop and some other personal effects.
Obviously, we missed the opportunity to go support the Black Stars and I have lived with this harrowing experience for two months.
Exactly how did it happen? Let me tell that story some other day, maybe; let me focus on the events following the shooting for now.
Luckily, the bullet hit me between my arm and my chest and missed every vital organ and bone. The bullet was extracted from my back by a very brilliant doctor. How it ended up there is something only gun enthusiasts and doctors will understand.
Needless to say, it has been a very, very difficult couple of months. I was away from work for two months.
Recovering and dealing with the ‘hey’ and the sound of the gunshot and when it hit and when I felt I was losing blood and anything can and may happen, was the hardest part.
I saw my life flash before my eyes for a few minutes. There are certain things only an experience can best explain. But this, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
I didn’t quite appreciate the enormity of the situation until maybe a few days and a week later.
I could easily have died on January 19, 2024. My son heard me scream after the bullet hit me and I fell to the ground. I got lucky that the bullet hit where it did. I suffered just some minor nerve damage which physio has fixed and I am out and about like nothing happened.
The friends who got to hear about this hours after it happened and called and drove home to see me made me truly happy. Within an hour of the shooting, two Botweburg boys were with me with a third en route (never mind the many calls from other members).
I got discharged before he got to the hospital. Yes, I was so lucky, all I needed was a localised anaesthesia to extract the bullet and I was good to go. Another group of boys I am proudly associated with, curiously called ‘House of Fire’ were also at hand to support right from the start of this nightmare.
Then was the support from my bosses and colleagues at work. Every call I got was, “How are you, are you getting better, is the medical care OK, are you resting? Forget about work for now and just get better.” Etc.
To all of you and those who heard from others and called, thank you. Truly, thank you. It meant a lot.
To those who are hearing it for the first time, chale forgive me. Talking about this isn’t quite fun and I wanted to be ok before even writing this. And it’s taken me a long time to write this. Let’s blame that on some level of apprehension and writer’s block that won’t go away.
Personnel of the Ghana Police Service need to be commended for being present, even though they haven’t been able to recover the vehicle. They have been in touch and I was surprised I had a visit from the Regional Police Command. In fact, it was two Police Officers who drove me from my initial first aid hospital to where I got the bullet extracted.
I thank the two gentlemen especially and the Service in general for their concerns. Hopefully, they have beefed up security in my neighbourhood. However, the fact that they have not been able to locate or recover the vehicle saddens me a lot.
I am grateful to my family; thank you. It’s not like you had any other option but to be there for me. I thank you. My wife and son and my brother and sister as well as my uncle and my old boy, I thank you very much.
Kwame Gyan, lucky bastard, I know and I agree. But also, Kwame Gyan, a blessed dude whose mum is looking down on him with a host of angels from above.
Let’s be extra careful around our homes, guys. Where I live is generally a cool place but lately, incidents like mine are becoming common and robberies on the streets within the estate are becoming rampant, perhaps because the Police there may not be doing enough.
Regardless, personal security starts with us. I am lucky to be here. Others have not been this lucky.
I survived this, and I feel lucky and blessed.
