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72 HOURS EARLIER

Convocation was fast approaching; hence, Mayfield University was quite bubbly this morning. Lecturers strolled in and out of the conference room, some final-year students checking the notice boards for information about the ceremony, while others clustered around, making small talk- mainly about the after-graduation party.

Titi walked past the lecture theatre and heaved a sigh of relief. She and her friends had successfully scaled through and finished with excellent grades.

Bola knew her mum had a point but wasn’t ready to consider it. She stood up. ‘Mummy, I don’t want to talk about it again. I am not going; she doesn’t need me. You won’t believe that she is talking to other people but giving me the silent treatment and that’s just wrong. She needs to grow up. She was awful when we last spoke, and I also changed it for her.’ She walked towards her room.

Her mum followed. ‘Nawa! I am not trying to upset you more than you already are.’ she chuckled. ‘I just want you to consider it from another perspective. Sometimes, people project their deepest, truest emotions on their loved ones, and it’s not fair; it is wrong, and I agree with you, but this is where understanding comes into play. Now is not the time to lash out or punish her. Her silent treatment may be a cry for help, and you do not want to miss her party just because your ego is bruised.’

Episode 1

‘Bola, aren’t you attending Titi’s birthday party again?’ Her mother asked. Mrs. George had an early work meeting and was amazed to see her 20-year-old daughter dressed in her regular green top and white jacket, watching TV. If there was anything Bola enjoyed, it was dressing up and spending time with her friends. Mrs George was sure her daughter did not inherit that from her.

‘I am not sure. She hasn’t been speaking to me, so I am unsure she wants me there.’  Bola said with a frown.

“How many times am I going to tell you, Eniola? I am not going with you to the youth camp. It is not my kind of scene.” Jade dismissed her friend with a wave of her hand and looked away. Her friend had been pestering her about going to the camp, and she was more interested in the arcade program organized by some of her friends from college.

I thought we were going to your place!” Mena nudged her friend Daisy as the latter veered off the road.

“Change of plans; I have a surprise for you!”

“Mena stared out the window as her friend drove past Sherman Road. She had known Daisy for about 6 months, but it felt longer than that. Daisy was kind-hearted, loyal and very vocal about her faith. Mena liked her immediately, and a few months later, they became best of friends.

“Stop staring, Leila.” Abby snapped her fingers to bring her Nigerian friend out of her daydream. She was staring intently at a guy; her mouth was slightly open.

“I wasn’t! I don’t even like him like that,” Leila blushed, her lips curved into a smile, showing off her dimples.

“Just talk to him already. You can never tell.”

The 218 will be 10 years this year—10 whole years of real friendship. Tears, sweat, laughter, love, and pain, but one thing has kept us together, the love of Christ. It’s a good day to tell you about how we met, especially for those of you, who don’t know. Please note that this is just my narration, as told from my perspective. About 10 years ago, we had finished our diploma, the strike was over, and we were about to resume 200-level direct entry.  Diploma year was tough for me.

Zara opened her eyes in horror, jumped off the bed and ran to the toilet. She pulled down the toilet seat and threw up as much as she could. It was the same dream. How could she have the same dream intermittently for the past 1 year? The details were the same. A woman in a burnt orange Hijab- holding on tightly to a young girl of about 6 years while pushing 10-year-old Zara away. They were in an apartment and were standing at the corner of the living room. It was dark and difficult to make out the faces.