Monday Column: I nearly got killed by a mad taxi driver

This week, a mad taxi driver, probably intoxicated, drove fast across the road past a red light and hit my car on the driver’s side.

My body did not only wheel around with the tires of the cars, but my brain did a summersault, too, in my head. I was dazed for half a minute not knowing exactly what happened until I saw cars approaching the wrong direction.

I could not opened the door so I decided to mentally fumble my brains and get them back into the mental gear. I took out my mobile phone and called the police. Then I tried to get out but the door was jammed.

I motioned for a man who came to look if I needed help to opened it for me. He did but asked me to wait in the car until the police arrived. Since I was not physically hurt, I decided to walk out of the car with the traffic swirling around me to get back to the road.

I had to find out who was the mad driver. His taxi car was on the roadside with the front completely wrecked. Since I was not hurt, so I decided to walk towards the car. He was still sitting on the driver side. When I asked why he went past the red light, he just mumbled something and I knew then he was drunk.

Minutes, later, the police and the ambulance arrived and he was taken away. The young policeman asked me to wait for the road traffic officers to arrive. It was in the morning and the sun was climbing fast across the blue sky. I was hot but decided to stay calm. I called my wife to come get me then walked to my car to get my beach chair out.

I sat under a tree shade on the roadside and waited. The young policeman smiled at me and said,” it looks like you came well prepared.”

I smiled back but did not say anything. While I was watching the morning traffic went past, I saw other taxi cars rushing through and stopped suddenly for passengers without warning on the roadsides. I do not have official statistics, but I am sure the taxi drivers contribute to a significant amount of accidents in Oman.

On my daily usual business, at least twice a month I see a taxi involved in a road accident. Some of them really bad. For less than a rial for one passenger, a taxi drive hits the brakes and screeches to a halt not caring who is in front or behind. 

Something needs to be done about it. As I write these lines, I am not sure if the taxi driver who hit me has insurance for his car. Anyway, as I was sitting under that tree, I took my thoughts away from the ‘near death’ experience and enjoyed the road traffic.

My wife and the traffic officer arrived almost at the same time. We had to go to the police station to write the statement. The young police officer asked me to go get checked at the hospital but I told her I felt fine. But the next morning, I found a bad bruise on the side of my arm.

It would heal by itself, I told my wife. I need to get on with my life. So next time I see a taxi coming my away, I will stay clear.