HOW I OVERCAME Calabar Gas Explosion: I Was Rescued From The Gutter – Bassey

Three days after the gas explosion at Edibe Edibe in Calabar South, a survivor, Edet Okon Bassey, 45, from Creek Town, Odukpani local government area of Cross River State, still hears the sound.

In his account, Bassey told LEADERSHIP that it was a sharp, splitting blast — the kind that doesn’t just echo in the air but lodges itself deep in memory.

He said, “In an instant, my quiet life was shattered. One moment, everything was normal. The next, fire had taken over everywhere.”

What followed was panic in its rawest form. Flames leapt from building to building. Thick smoke choked the air. Voices rose in terror — “Fire! Run! Save your life!” People poured into the streets, some barefoot, some half-dressed, all desperate to escape the fast-moving inferno triggered by a gas explosion that left a trail of destruction behind.

Bassey continued, “I tried to run, but my body betrayed me. My legs suddenly felt too heavy. It was like something held me down.” Then, in a twist that would later seem like fate intervening, he fell straight into a gutter.

That fall, as painful as it was, became his lifeline.

He said, “I didn’t even know what happened after that. Everything went blank.”

Neighbours would later tell him the rest. Amid the chaos, they found him lying unconscious inside the gutter — bruised, burned, but alive. Around him, the community was collapsing into ashes. His wife had barely escaped.

“People were shouting at us to get out,” he said. “We ran with others, not knowing where we were going. Then another explosion came — boom! boom! — and that was the last thing I remember before I woke up in the hospital.”

When he regained consciousness, pain greeted him first. His body was covered in burns and bruises. Treatment came urgently, if not conventionally. Oils were applied to his wounds. Medications followed — injections, tablets, anything to ease the agony and stabilise him.

Bassey said, “It was all confusing. But I knew I had survived something terrible.” Survival, however, came with a cruel price. The explosion did not just injure Bassey — it erased his world.

His home was gone. His belongings were reduced to charred remains. The tools of his trade — the very means by which he fed his family — vanished in the flames. Today, he walks with crutches, a constant reminder of that day.

“I lost everything,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “Everything.”

Now, the burden of survival has shifted to his wife, who struggles to provide for their four children. What used to be a modest but stable life has been replaced with uncertainty, dependence, and quiet desperation.

Yet, amid the ruins, humanity showed up. Strangers stepped in where systems have yet to reach.

According to him, “I met people I didn’t know before. They helped me, cared for me. One person even gave me money to return home. That kindness… I will never forget it.”

Still, gratitude alone cannot rebuild a life. Bassey is now appealing to the Cross River State Emergency Management Agency (SEMA) and the National Emergency Management Agency (NEMA) to intervene before his family slips further into hardship.

“We need help to stand again,” he pleaded. “We have children to care for. We need shelter. We need a way to live,” he said.