“I hate this!” I wailed, banging my head against the steering wheel as Wali baba, my driving instructor, asked me to stop and restart his classic red Ford Pinto for what felt like the hundredth time.

Frustration bubbled up as all the big and small cars zoomed past our ‘turtle’, even bicycles were faster than us. If only I had a driving licence, I would’ve shown them all what I was capable of.

“Concentrate, young man! You’re wasting my time,” Wali baba snapped.

I was surprised to hear this from my bleary-eyed, 60-year-old instructor, who seemed to have plenty of time to spare despite everything else he might lack. With his numerous moles and crooked nose, he might have looked somewhat presentable if not for his unbearably slow pace.

And just like its owner, the Pinto struggled, its engine spluttered and its rusty parts excruciatingly dragged upon one another. What added to my predicament was the air conditioner’s stubborn refusal to work under the blazing sun.

I continued to drive the rattletrap until I couldn’t take it anymore. Just as I was about to quit, I noticed that Wali baba had fallen asleep.

My scowl was replaced by a smile and my feet itched relentlessly. The road was clear and no speed cameras were in sight. Flooring the accelerator and shifting the gear to the max, I sped up. The car zoomed along the lane, leaving behind a trail of charred smoke. I was utterly surprised at how fast this rust bucket could go. What compelled me to gaze in awe was the half-flooded canyon to the right with the towering green hills to the left. After a blissful five-minute drive, I noticed Wali baba stirring. I immediately hit the brakes.

Unfortunately, at that exact moment, the antique vehicle decided to fall apart. Its controls went berserk and the whole frame struggled as if trying to free itself from some invisible chain.

In sheer panic, I pulled the steering wheel hard. That was my biggest mistake. The steering wheel popped right into my hands!

In the meantime, Wali baba ‘came to’ from his siesta, only to faint again upon visually processing the shocking situation. The car had swirled off the path and was now headed toward the canyon. Remembering Wali baba’s incessant instructions, I instinctively yanked the handbrake and stomped upon the paddle break with all my might. Surprisingly, the technique worked and the car skidded to a halt; luckily, right at the edge of the cliff. Yes, you are right in thinking, “a scene exactly from the movies!”

Putting the steering wheel back, I rested my throbbing head against it. Wali baba was still unconscious but, thankfully, had now somehow started to snore.

As the adrenaline began to wear off, I let out a shaky laugh, realising how close we had come to disaster. Wali baba’s snores filled the silence, a strange but comforting reminder that we had survived this ordeal.

I knew Wali baba would wake up soon and lecture me about the importance of patience and control, but for now, I took a moment to appreciate the absurdity of it all. Perhaps I wasn’t cut out for driving — at least not yet. But one thing was certain: this was a ride I would never forget.

Published in Dawn, Young World, January 11th, 2025