Please read and learn something....
I was really teary reading this and i have contacted Chiemelie .....
Let me share this here.
Of this incident that happened a few hours ago.
I wasn’t supposed to stop.
But I did.
There was chaos just ahead of the supermarket gate somewhere in Surulere.
A black Toyota Corolla was surrounded by three LASTMA officials.
The driver, mid-40s, shirt soaked in sweat, kept pacing between them.
And something in his voice stopped me.
"Please. Please just look inside the car. He is not even moving anymore. That’s my son. He is sick, he is very sick. We were going to the hospital. I only stepped in to grab his medication. I was gone for just five minutes."
One of the officials shook his head like he’d heard it a thousand times.
"You people always have stories. Why park where you're not supposed to? You want us to lose our job?"
Another officer barked.
"Oga, if you don’t bring ₦70,000 now, this car is going to the yard. And from there? You’ll need close to ₦400,000 to bail it."
The man reached out. Not to touch them. Just to plead.
They stepped back like he carried something contagious.
"I swear I’m not lying. Please. He has severe asthma. I forgot the nebulizer at home. I was rushing to the hospital, just ten minutes from here. Look at him! You have a child, right? Please, have sympathy."
That was when I looked.
The boy, maybe ten, was in the backseat, his small frame slumped against the door, eyes half-closed. His chest heaved in rapid spasms, every breath sounding like gravel grinding in a pipe.
His fingers trembled. His lips were turning dark.
So I stepped forward.
"What’s wrong with him?"
The father looked at me, disoriented.
"Asthma. It started an hour ago. He had a mild attack in the morning, but it’s worsening fast. I was going to get him treated and just stopped for a refill. Please, sir… help me talk to them."
I tried to talk to the LASTMA officers but they ignored me so I turned back to the man.
"Try and sort this with them, let me take him to the hospital."
His eyes widened.
"You…?”
"We don't have another option and there is no time. He needs oxygen. Now.”
He hesitated.
"You’re a stranger."
"I am. But your son is dying.”
He looked back at the boy.
Then at me.
He obviously saw that there was no other option left.
His lips trembled.
"Give me your number. Please.”
I gave him mine.
And he gave me his.
I opened the door and gently lifted the boy from the backseat.
He was warm. Burning. His eyes barely focused on mine.
As I placed him in my car, the father shouted behind me.
"Please, call me the moment you get there. Please don’t let anything happen to him!"
I nodded once. Then I got into the car and quickly drove off.
The hospital wasn’t crowded, I guess because it was a private one.
I rushed in carrying the boy in both arms.
"Emergency! Severe asthma attack. Ten-year-old boy!"
The receptionist stood up so fast her chair hit the wall.
She shouted.
"Treatment Room Two! Get Doctor Okafor!"
While I tried to fill the form I was given, two nurses rushed and took the boy, placed him on the oxygen tank, connected a nebulizer, and began checking vitals.
One of the nurses murmured.
"He’s tachypneic. Respiration over 40. Oxygen saturation 82%."
The doctor said as he rushed in still zipping his scrubs.
"Get the hydrocortisone ready. Nebulize him every 20 minutes. Keep him on oxygen. If he doesn’t stabilize, we’re moving to adrenaline injection.”
I stood there.
My heart pounding.
This wasn’t my child.
But it felt like my fight.
Minutes passed.
Then the doctor came out.
“He is stable."
He said, wiping his forehead.
"That was close. He’ll be okay, but he needs to stay a few hours for monitoring.”
I thanked him so much.
The bill came.
₦89,000.
I paid with my debit card.
I stepped outside and called the boy’s father.
He picked on the first ring.
“Hello! Sir, please, is he?"
"He is stable. He is getting oxygen and treatment.”
A pause.
Then I heard the man begin to cry. Softly.
I didn’t speak. I let him.
But he wasn’t done.
“They’ve taken the car. They refused to wait. I was still begging when the towing truck came. They said the 70K grace was over. I’m at their office in Iponri now. Sir… they’re asking for ₦385,000 to release my car.”
I looked at the hospital door behind me.
Then at the sky.
Then back to my car.
I didn't know what to say to him.
But all I found myself saying was.
"I’m coming.”
And I meant it.
He couldn't believe his ears.
I arrived at the LASTMA office just before 3PM.
The weather was warm, no sun, but the heat stuck to my skin like wet cloth.
I found him standing by a corner fence, head down, fingers digging into his scalp.
He was tired and confused.
So I said to him gently.
"Sir."
He looked up like someone coming out of a bad dream. His eyes were red, his face streaked with dry sweat and tears.
He approached me nervously.
His voice was hoarse.
"My car… they have impounded it. Said I’ll pay ₦385,000. They even threatened to keep increasing the fine by day. That car is my only source of income. That's my office from where I make money to take care of my son and my wife. God, please, help me."
I told him.
"Stay calm. Nothing will happen to your car, you'll get it back, I believe."
He nodded slowly.
"They have been laughing at me. One said, ‘Your son is sick? Na why you go break law? You think say we be Red Cross?’"
I felt something cold stir in my chest.
Not rage.
Just sadness.
I said to him.
"Please, come with me."
We walked into the building.
Inside, it smelled of engine oil, sweat, and indifference.
I approached the counter.
“Good afternoon. I’d like to speak with your superior officer. It’s regarding a car that was impounded a few hours ago, black Toyota Corolla.”
A thickset officer with bloodshot eyes looked up at me. "Eeyyaa who you be? Police or Army? Abeg everything you want to say, say it here. We don’t have time.”
I responded calmly but firm.
"I was the one who rushed the sick boy to the hospital, I have the hospital card and bill here. He was in the back seat of that vehicle. That child would have died today if I didn’t act."
He scoffed.
"And so? Good for him. E mean say we no go do our job?”
"No one said that but this man was in an emergency. All he asked was a few more minutes. Instead, you people want to extort him. Now you’re billing him almost ₦400,000. This isn’t traffic enforcement. It’s cruelty."
Another officer chimed in.
"Oga, the car don enter system. Na only Oga inside go override am. And e no dey see everybody."
"Then let him see me."
"As governor of Lagos State or as who?"
Silence.
I stood my ground.
"Get your superior. I’ll wait.”
The minutes crawled.
The father stood beside me like a child awaiting judgment.
Fortunately, a senior officer emerged.
Bald, tall, stern. I saw his name tag.
He sized me up before he said.
"What’s the problem?”
I stepped forward and told the story. From the moment I saw the boy wheezing in the back seat, to carrying him into the hospital, to paying the ₦89,000 hospital bill, to returning only to find the car had been towed.
The Commander listened without interruption. Then he asked a single question:
“Do you have proof the boy was sick?”
I handed him the hospital bill and the case card. He studied them for a long moment.
Then something shifted in his eyes.
He looked at the officers behind the desk.
"You towed the vehicle knowing a child was dying in it?"
"Sir, the man parked in a no-parking."
"I didn’t ask that. I asked if you knew a child was in distress in the car."
No one answered.
He sighed.
"Release the car. Immediately. Remove the fine. No man should suffer for saving his own son’s life. And you."
He turned to the father.
"You’re lucky someone still has a conscience in this country. Thank this guy for stepping in."
The man fell to his knees.
"Thank you. Thank you, sir… I swear, thank you…"
When the superior left, he turned to me.
And his voice broke.
"You didn’t know me. Yet you rushed my son to the hospital. You paid for his treatment. And now, you’re standing here fighting for me when I couldn’t even fight for myself."
I helped him to his feet.
He opened his wallet and tried to hand me some money.
"I don’t have much. Please… even if it’s part of what you spent..."
I shook my head.
"Your son is breathing. That’s enough. Please, pick your car and go and see him. God bless you."
He looked at me, eyes trembling.
"Why? Why would you do this for me?"
I didn’t know how to answer that.
So I said the only thing I truly believed.
"Because someone should."
As we walked out into the fading light, I handed him a folded note.
It was the hospital’s follow-up card. His son had to return in two days for further tests.
"I already booked the appointment. He’ll need more care. Don’t miss it."
He opened it slowly, then looked back at me, his lips parted, but no words came.
Only tears.
Only silence.And behind us, the LASTMA officers watched.
They were quiet now. Maybe even ashamed.
But I left there happy and fulfilled.
You could do the same.
And the world will be a better place.
Let me share this here.
Of this incident that happened a few hours ago.
I wasn’t supposed to stop.
But I did.
There was chaos just ahead of the supermarket gate somewhere in Surulere.
A black Toyota Corolla was surrounded by three LASTMA officials.
The driver, mid-40s, shirt soaked in sweat, kept pacing between them.
And something in his voice stopped me.
"Please. Please just look inside the car. He is not even moving anymore. That’s my son. He is sick, he is very sick. We were going to the hospital. I only stepped in to grab his medication. I was gone for just five minutes."
One of the officials shook his head like he’d heard it a thousand times.
"You people always have stories. Why park where you're not supposed to? You want us to lose our job?"
Another officer barked.
"Oga, if you don’t bring ₦70,000 now, this car is going to the yard. And from there? You’ll need close to ₦400,000 to bail it."
The man reached out. Not to touch them. Just to plead.
They stepped back like he carried something contagious.
"I swear I’m not lying. Please. He has severe asthma. I forgot the nebulizer at home. I was rushing to the hospital, just ten minutes from here. Look at him! You have a child, right? Please, have sympathy."
That was when I looked.
The boy, maybe ten, was in the backseat, his small frame slumped against the door, eyes half-closed. His chest heaved in rapid spasms, every breath sounding like gravel grinding in a pipe.
His fingers trembled. His lips were turning dark.
So I stepped forward.
"What’s wrong with him?"
The father looked at me, disoriented.
"Asthma. It started an hour ago. He had a mild attack in the morning, but it’s worsening fast. I was going to get him treated and just stopped for a refill. Please, sir… help me talk to them."
I tried to talk to the LASTMA officers but they ignored me so I turned back to the man.
"Try and sort this with them, let me take him to the hospital."
His eyes widened.
"You…?”
"We don't have another option and there is no time. He needs oxygen. Now.”
He hesitated.
"You’re a stranger."
"I am. But your son is dying.”
He looked back at the boy.
Then at me.
He obviously saw that there was no other option left.
His lips trembled.
"Give me your number. Please.”
I gave him mine.
And he gave me his.
I opened the door and gently lifted the boy from the backseat.
He was warm. Burning. His eyes barely focused on mine.
As I placed him in my car, the father shouted behind me.
"Please, call me the moment you get there. Please don’t let anything happen to him!"
I nodded once. Then I got into the car and quickly drove off.
The hospital wasn’t crowded, I guess because it was a private one.
I rushed in carrying the boy in both arms.
"Emergency! Severe asthma attack. Ten-year-old boy!"
The receptionist stood up so fast her chair hit the wall.
She shouted.
"Treatment Room Two! Get Doctor Okafor!"
While I tried to fill the form I was given, two nurses rushed and took the boy, placed him on the oxygen tank, connected a nebulizer, and began checking vitals.
One of the nurses murmured.
"He’s tachypneic. Respiration over 40. Oxygen saturation 82%."
The doctor said as he rushed in still zipping his scrubs.
"Get the hydrocortisone ready. Nebulize him every 20 minutes. Keep him on oxygen. If he doesn’t stabilize, we’re moving to adrenaline injection.”
I stood there.
My heart pounding.
This wasn’t my child.
But it felt like my fight.
Minutes passed.
Then the doctor came out.
“He is stable."
He said, wiping his forehead.
"That was close. He’ll be okay, but he needs to stay a few hours for monitoring.”
I thanked him so much.
The bill came.
₦89,000.
I paid with my debit card.
I stepped outside and called the boy’s father.
He picked on the first ring.
“Hello! Sir, please, is he?"
"He is stable. He is getting oxygen and treatment.”
A pause.
Then I heard the man begin to cry. Softly.
I didn’t speak. I let him.
But he wasn’t done.
“They’ve taken the car. They refused to wait. I was still begging when the towing truck came. They said the 70K grace was over. I’m at their office in Iponri now. Sir… they’re asking for ₦385,000 to release my car.”
I looked at the hospital door behind me.
Then at the sky.
Then back to my car.
I didn't know what to say to him.
But all I found myself saying was.
"I’m coming.”
And I meant it.
He couldn't believe his ears.
I arrived at the LASTMA office just before 3PM.
The weather was warm, no sun, but the heat stuck to my skin like wet cloth.
I found him standing by a corner fence, head down, fingers digging into his scalp.
He was tired and confused.
So I said to him gently.
"Sir."
He looked up like someone coming out of a bad dream. His eyes were red, his face streaked with dry sweat and tears.
He approached me nervously.
His voice was hoarse.
"My car… they have impounded it. Said I’ll pay ₦385,000. They even threatened to keep increasing the fine by day. That car is my only source of income. That's my office from where I make money to take care of my son and my wife. God, please, help me."
I told him.
"Stay calm. Nothing will happen to your car, you'll get it back, I believe."
He nodded slowly.
"They have been laughing at me. One said, ‘Your son is sick? Na why you go break law? You think say we be Red Cross?’"
I felt something cold stir in my chest.
Not rage.
Just sadness.
I said to him.
"Please, come with me."
We walked into the building.
Inside, it smelled of engine oil, sweat, and indifference.
I approached the counter.
“Good afternoon. I’d like to speak with your superior officer. It’s regarding a car that was impounded a few hours ago, black Toyota Corolla.”
A thickset officer with bloodshot eyes looked up at me. "Eeyyaa who you be? Police or Army? Abeg everything you want to say, say it here. We don’t have time.”
I responded calmly but firm.
"I was the one who rushed the sick boy to the hospital, I have the hospital card and bill here. He was in the back seat of that vehicle. That child would have died today if I didn’t act."
He scoffed.
"And so? Good for him. E mean say we no go do our job?”
"No one said that but this man was in an emergency. All he asked was a few more minutes. Instead, you people want to extort him. Now you’re billing him almost ₦400,000. This isn’t traffic enforcement. It’s cruelty."
Another officer chimed in.
"Oga, the car don enter system. Na only Oga inside go override am. And e no dey see everybody."
"Then let him see me."
"As governor of Lagos State or as who?"
Silence.
I stood my ground.
"Get your superior. I’ll wait.”
The minutes crawled.
The father stood beside me like a child awaiting judgment.
Fortunately, a senior officer emerged.
Bald, tall, stern. I saw his name tag.
He sized me up before he said.
"What’s the problem?”
I stepped forward and told the story. From the moment I saw the boy wheezing in the back seat, to carrying him into the hospital, to paying the ₦89,000 hospital bill, to returning only to find the car had been towed.
The Commander listened without interruption. Then he asked a single question:
“Do you have proof the boy was sick?”
I handed him the hospital bill and the case card. He studied them for a long moment.
Then something shifted in his eyes.
He looked at the officers behind the desk.
"You towed the vehicle knowing a child was dying in it?"
"Sir, the man parked in a no-parking."
"I didn’t ask that. I asked if you knew a child was in distress in the car."
No one answered.
He sighed.
"Release the car. Immediately. Remove the fine. No man should suffer for saving his own son’s life. And you."
He turned to the father.
"You’re lucky someone still has a conscience in this country. Thank this guy for stepping in."
The man fell to his knees.
"Thank you. Thank you, sir… I swear, thank you…"
When the superior left, he turned to me.
And his voice broke.
"You didn’t know me. Yet you rushed my son to the hospital. You paid for his treatment. And now, you’re standing here fighting for me when I couldn’t even fight for myself."
I helped him to his feet.
He opened his wallet and tried to hand me some money.
"I don’t have much. Please… even if it’s part of what you spent..."
I shook my head.
"Your son is breathing. That’s enough. Please, pick your car and go and see him. God bless you."
He looked at me, eyes trembling.
"Why? Why would you do this for me?"
I didn’t know how to answer that.
So I said the only thing I truly believed.
"Because someone should."
As we walked out into the fading light, I handed him a folded note.
It was the hospital’s follow-up card. His son had to return in two days for further tests.
"I already booked the appointment. He’ll need more care. Don’t miss it."
He opened it slowly, then looked back at me, his lips parted, but no words came.
Only tears.
Only silence.And behind us, the LASTMA officers watched.
They were quiet now. Maybe even ashamed.
But I left there happy and fulfilled.
You could do the same.
And the world will be a better place.
Chiemelie Kyrian Offor
June 17, 2025
June 17, 2025
God bless your good and kind heart..
ReplyDeleteKyrian is a blessing indeed,God bless you
ReplyDeleteOh my! This is so touching
ReplyDeleteThis was sad. Glad it ended well. God bless the stranger. Some of those LASTMA officials are louts wearing uniforms.
ReplyDeleteThank you Chiemelie, God bless you.
DeleteThanks to the hospital staffs being so professional.
Thanks to the lastma superior for showing compassion while doing his job.
You all saved the day.
đđ
ReplyDeleteThere's still hope in humanity đ¤
Thank you so much Chimezie, you're an angel in disguise.
Stella, thanks for contacting him, he saved two lives ♥️
Adunni
*Chiemelie* (God has won)...not *Chiemezie* ....@Adunni take note.
DeleteStella this is a heart touching event! I cried while reading it.
ReplyDeleteWicked people they’d meet their own for road no be swear .
ReplyDeleteMay God punish those good for nothing goats parading as humans in uniform, see how the fools were still gloating even after they realized the impact of their actions.
ReplyDeleteChimelie should have gotten their names and sent it to their headquarters, petition Sanwo olu if possible, they need to be sacked shamefully, lose their pension and every single entitlements, such bastards!!!
This thing dey vex me silly.
May worse fate befall them .
DeleteAmen.
DeleteOh, they will not escape what's coming to them. They should be sacked!!! Imagine if something had happened to that baby. God, please punish those idiots. It will never be well with them.
DeleteWho's cutting onions? this brought tears to my eyes
ReplyDeleteOh Dear, God Almighty Bless Your Good Heart đ
ReplyDeleteMay God Always Come Through For Us Whenever We Need Him đđ
Hello iya Boys
With tears in my eyes I say thank you to Chiemelie, for showing empathy and kindness to a total stranger and for allowing God to use you to save a life, when you call one thousands will answer, he will reward you in multiple ways, help shall come to you and yours when you least expected and it shall be well with you. I am so happy the boy is alive.
ReplyDeleteThis is why I don't pity them if anything bad happens to them on the road. Like if a vehicle runs into them and kpais them or robbers shoot them or they have accident while chasing a car. I don't pity them, road safety officers and police. Very wicked lots.
ReplyDeleteSee that police inspector of yesterday's news whose young son accidentally shot him dead, I didn't pity him.
I don't know what to type.I am not a violent person in nature but what I would like to do to lastma officials at the moment can not be printed.This brought tears.
ReplyDeleteGod bless you really good. At least, there is still good people in this wicked world
ReplyDeleteGod bless you sir and enrich you a million folds. You will never know sorrow ijn.
ReplyDeleteKai this is so touching!! Had tears in my eyes while reading đ˘
ReplyDeleteThe man would have lost his son just like that cos of these wicked people
God will bless you Chiemelie, He will always come through for you whenever you need him đ
Oh my goodness. May you never see sorrow, disgrace nor shame. God will always cause things to work in your favor. Men and women will always rise to your defense just as you did for this man and his family.
ReplyDeleteAs for the lasma officials, both the people at the helm of affairs that gave them the directives to be inhumane to people, may you reap the fruit of your labour .
So assuming there was no money to take the boy to a prosper hospital, like, assuming they only used ordinary inhaler to resuscitate him, they wouldn't have believed that he had crisis? Evidence over someone's life?
God bless you Kyrian.
ReplyDeleteHow can you take 400k because someone broke traffic rules? How much has police taken from the thieves they caught?
ReplyDeleteHow can you take 400k because someone broke traffic rules? How much has police taken from the thieves they caught?
ReplyDeleteGod almighty will bless you, for taking a big risk like this.
ReplyDeletePraise to God that it ended in praise..
Thank God it ended in praise. God bless you .
ReplyDeleteAwwwwwww Kindness, Empathy, Compassion are virtues this world needs. Mr. Chiemelie Kyrian Offor are you single biko?
ReplyDeleteSisi Nene
Angel in human formđĽ˛
ReplyDeleteStonecold like Me , see tears
May God bless his kind heart.
God bless the man for being an angel to the father and son, God bless their superior for having a listening ear and a heart of wisdom to take good decision. God punish those of officers trying to waste a soul just to enrich their personal pocket.
ReplyDeleteĂᚣe mĂĄ bo láť́wáť́ wáťn lĂĄgbĂĄra áťlĂł̣run.
God bless you sir.
ReplyDeleteMay God Answer you in your dear needs... Amen.
This is so emotional and painful to read. These lastma officers are monsters. They only care about their daily thrift. đđđ. God bless you sir đđż
ReplyDeleteNo empathy at all
ReplyDeleteGod bless the angel in human form
God bless you Mr chiemelie your own no go spoil.
ReplyDeleteGod bless you, Chiemelie. And thank you SDK for this post. Pay attention to his name... The meaning of "Chiemelie" is exactly how it turned out for the boy's father in the end. All glory to God đ! Gosh! This post left me with goosebumps...
ReplyDeleteKyrian Offor, reading every line made me cry so much dat u re not only good, but good at heart. U just saved a whole family from pain and anguish. God Almighty will bless elevate u and keep u longer than Methuselah. I love u so much. Am ashmatic,so I kno exactly how dat young lad was in pain and restless.
ReplyDeleteChiemelie means: ...God won. And God truly won for the father of the asthmatic child. God bless you, Chiemelie, for your kind of heart ... Your kind gesture is quite rare in today's world of "Dog eat dog syndrome... Stella, thanks for posting this.
ReplyDeleteThank u "Chiemelie", may God send u help and meet u at the point of need
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this story Stella. Chiemelie Kyrian Offor, God bless you.
ReplyDeleteThank you and God bless you
ReplyDeleteGod bless you chiemelie
ReplyDeleteThank God for the life of the child, it can only be him
ReplyDeleteChiemelie Kyrian Offor, you lived up to your name - 'God has won'.
ReplyDeleteGod Almighty bless you beyond measure for being a 'human angel' sent to save that young boy's life and an advocate for his dad..
Your act of compassion, kindness and generosity will extend to your future generations in Jesus Christ Mighty name. Amen đđž
God bless the Senior LATSMA officer for being humane in this case and in doing his work. Mercy and compassion will be upon your life and family. đđž
Lagos State government, you need to cut down on the amount you rate you fine people and also build parking lots in public places. Provide infrastructure toake life easier for Lagosians.
I cried when reading this đ
ReplyDeleteChiemelie kyrian may God continue to bless you
God bless and replenish your account, pains,sickness,and sorrow will be far from you đ
ReplyDeleteA huge takeaway is we need to be human and help one another...it is not everything that is mind your business....help someone; this is a huge lesson....Not flipping out your phone and recording...
ReplyDeleteI am not surprised about lack of empathy displayed by LASTMA officials...we are gradually losing our humanity...
God bless you Chiemelie
Thank you Kyrian Offor. I cried while reading this. There is hope for humanity!
ReplyDeleteThank you Jesus
ReplyDeleteChiemelie what a good name befitting a good guy like you. Your kind deed will not go unrewarded.
ReplyDelete