Note 1: After taking more than half a year without posting anything on my site blaming it on the loss of my phone, I promised myself to post atleast once a week. The past week saw me hit a dry spell because it was unusually uneventful. I moved between talking about ladies’ social habits to campus wannabes with old toyota 504s and Vitz whose only strength (or weakness, depending on the possesion end you are on) are loud speakers. Untill I realised that most of my ideas come from the conversations me and the boys usually have. You see, T (I’ll call him T and he stars in this post) doesn’t read my blog (even though I personally bookmarked it on his browser) claiming he knows what I’ll write about; and how right that is! Our lame but equally funny jokes usually spur the humor in my articles and thus I sought them.
Note 2: I got the idea for the title after reading Darius’ post. You should check him out (of course after reading this and the previous article). He’s sort of my pro borno lifestyle therapist. But even so, I had my doubts about writing this fearing it would be misconstrued until I stumbled on Laura Turner’s piece (Jezebel)>>This is the only article I’ll allow you to read before mine due to the reference that I’ll make to it<<
A SHORT ANALOGY
T and I met in high school. In a way we had a lot of things in common. Yet we also had great parities. Where he was organized and careful, I was always in shambles and careless. I had just stepped out of my parents’ wings and thus didn’t know how to take care of myself. He on the other hand was in control of himself. But the similarities won over the differences. Most notable was our passion for civics and political ambitions. Of course he went ahead to become Secretary to the Student Council while I contented myself with the idea of Chief Counsel of Secretary to the Student Council (that wasn’t exactly an official post, but man fancies flattering titles).
Fuck dreams! And passion! Both of us are on our ways to becoming scientists in almost similar fields. But God doesn’t take everything without leaving you a condolation behind. While fate (actually, a government bureaucrat) took our Law School dreams, God gave us each other for comfort. We got to the same college. And even after months of separation, the friendship embers were still there. It just needed rekindling.
Note to that line: Sometimes I wonder if it was just the idea of seeing a familiar face in a sea of stranges that threw us together and that we would eventually break out of it.
But it’s the stuff we did and talked about that really built us. It was that friendship where even after weeks of not seeing each other we didn’t pass hellos; the conversation started right where we’d left it. It’s like we hadn’t been away from each other at all. I remember how we would loudly sing Luo Rhumba on the streets of our campus then laughingly explain it with “We are from the village. This is how we grew up!” And I remember even the wild dreams and fantasies we would share. Like what he would if he won the Sport Pesa Jackport (I lost that dream. Some you fulfill. Others you just let go). The talks about our future families. How he wanted as many kids as he could if he could take care of them. And how I would team up with his sons against him when we watched soccer together. My point? There are stuff that when you do or say to one another they seem like vows.
Then came H (I didn’t know how I’d bring him up so I just did it). He was T’s coursemate so they basically shared more time than we did. A friend of a friend is a friend. And he became my friend and we formed this trio gang. Made lots of noise in our native language in and around the hostel and thought that that made us popular. Actually, it did. Guys we didn’t know would stop us and refer to us as ‘Jaluo‘. It gave me this air of fame that made me consider myself as the mayor of our little crib. To date I still believe had I run, I would have won the Congressman post with a landslide margin.
Everything changed when we were sophomores. We were drifting apart without us noticing it. T and H remained on one side while I stuck up on the other. At one point I formed a WhatsApp group for just the three of us and christened it ‘The Three Musketeers’ but even that couldn’t help salvage the friendship. There nolonger were any embers to rekindle. The wood had burned to ash. I guess our friendship had run its course and it was time to let it go. Honourably so.
The time I realised we were never getting back was when I hit one of my worst lows and I had to move through it on my own. There’s this lady I had been crazy about for over a year and they kept telling me to either ask her how she felt about me or let her go. So I manned up and asked her to be my girlfriend. If man can be said to be mature, then the way this lady turned me down is the perfect example of maturity. And even after I got over her, I still respected her for the way she let me down. Then with a heartbreak and for an introvert (Behind the acquired and mastered art of self confidence that I exude looms a timid self. I’m that awkward kid in a party who sticks to a corner with a drink in hand and phone on the other), I seriously needed my friends. But none of them ever set foot in my room during this whole period. Like Laura, I like to play the victim card here. I was going through a heartache, the last thing I needed was to feel abandoned by the only people I had known to be there for me. Yet they hang me out to dry. Truth be told, I did some shitty stuff that must have scared them off. That was the time I took to alcohol (convincing myself that I was drinking because I wanted to not because of the unresolved emotions running through me). There are stuff I don’t even feel comfortable relaying in this post. And now I look back at it and I just don’t beat myself too hard about it. I concluded we all played our parts in ending the friendship.
Society drills men to avoid being sentimental as much as they can. But that is the whole point of most of our mess. Dealing with unresolved emotions is never easy and sometimes, just like me, people do stuff they’d never imagine they would have done in ten lifetimes had they been in half their normal state.