The recent car crash involving boxing champion Anthony Joshua in Nigeria has honestly shaken me.
On one hand, I’m deeply grateful that AJ is alive. That alone is worth thanking God for. But at the same time, my heart is heavy over the loss of two precious lives—Latif Adeshina and Sanni Ghami. Their deaths matter. They shouldn’t be reduced to footnotes in a survival story.
Sadly, this AJ incident isn’t the first, the tenth, or even the hundredth fatal accident involving stationary trucks on Nigerian roads over the last 20 years. These trucks have become silent killers—parked carelessly, unmarked, unlit—waiting for the next tragedy. We’ve seen this pattern over and over again, and each time, it ends the same way: lives lost unnecessarily.
I still remember how we lost Dagrin. A brilliant talent, gone too soon. There was also a haunting story about a driver and his colleagues who noticed a stationary truck on the opposite side of the road and casually discussed how dangerous it looked. Six hours later, that same driver crashed into a similar truck. Same danger. Same outcome. Coincidence? Maybe. But also a clear warning we keep ignoring.
We may not even have reliable statistics on road accidents in Nigeria over the last two decades, but we don’t need perfect data to know this: accidents involving stationary trucks would rank frighteningly high. Anyone who drives Nigerian roads knows this reality too well.
What makes it worse is the silence. If major media outlets weren’t largely controlled by political interests, the human angle of these stories would be told properly. Nigerians would be consistently informed—not just when a celebrity is involved—about road accidents, casualties, and preventable deaths. Which brings me to the real issue: prevention.
Our authorities are always quick to react after accidents happen—ambulances, statements, sympathy messages. But where is the real commitment to prevention? Proper road signage. Enforced safety regulations for trucks. Reflective markings. Lighting. Accountability.
And while we’re talking about prevention, we can’t avoid the conversation around speed. Speed limits on Nigerian roads are either poorly enforced or completely ignored. You’ll see signposts in some places, but no real monitoring, no consequences, and no consistency. On highways where heavy-duty trucks are parked dangerously close to fast-moving traffic, speeding turns a bad situation into a fatal one.
This is where technology and willpower need to meet. Speed cameras. Functional traffic monitoring systems. Real penalties that are enforced—not negotiated. Road safety shouldn’t depend on luck, prayer, or who survives to tell the story.
Because the truth is simple: even the most careful driver becomes vulnerable when speed, poor regulation, and unsafe road practices collide.
Prevention must be intentional. Not occasional. Not reactive. And certainly not selective.
We can’t keep losing people like this.
Yes, I thank God for AJ’s life—truly. But what about Latif and Sanni? What do we say to their families? That their deaths are just another statistic? Another “unfortunate incident”?
They deserved better. We all do.
- Jimi D Baldheaded Guy