I saw something today that prompted this story I am about to share. The truth? Nigeria is blessed, and Nigerians are gifted. No be today, from the days of our ancestors…
Back in Umuahia, there was this local mechanic named Oga Uche. No diagnostic machine. No fancy gloves. Just blackened fingernails, years of hustle, and a head full of wisdom that could humble a PhD holder.
A car would stutter once, and he would say,
“Check plug number 3. The coil dey misbehave.”
And he would be right.
No Google. No YouTube. Just pure intuition and years of sweat.
One day, a flashy man brought a German machine from Lagos.
“No one has been able to fix it,” he said arrogantly.
Oga Uche cracked his knuckles, listened to the engine like it was whispering secrets, and simply said,
“Give me 30 minutes.”
I stood there, watching magic unfold.
No computer, just confidence.
He tweaked the timing, rewired something small, and boom the engine purred like a new-born.
The flashy man gawked. “How did you…?”
Oga Uche smiled, wiped his hands on his brown trousers, and said,
“Na experience. We dey fix car wey no be our own since 1982.”
Moral:
Never underrate a Nigerian mechanic.
They fix cars with prayers, patience, and palm oil.
They are the silent engineers of the streets.
The unsung wizards with grease on their palms and pride in their hearts.
🇳🇬💪🏾
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