Ejiro said that the day she met me she complained to God that she was lonely. “I reminded him that life was not to be done alone.” So, now every time she is asked how we met, she does not smile, in a soft way and attribute Glory to God for our sisterhood, she actually erupts into a full belly laugh, and Ejiro snorts when she laughs. I have witnessed this twice and I cringed on behalf of the person asking, they always looked uncomfortable, like if wishes came true, and they wished hard enough they would disappear, I have no intention of finding out how many people have actually asked her.

I know that now you’re wondering how we met, the irony is that there is nothing funny about the story. It is a rather embarrassing story, if you asked me, I would tell you that God has a way of letting people find their partners and that said partnership was sometimes in friendship. It will not be a lie, at least completely- it would be me skirting round what happened on the 2nd of March 2019. It was a cringe day for me, Ejiro is my compensation for the embarrassment of that day. Another thing worthy of knowing about my sister, is that she is one of those people who asked. She made demands, and, her expectations known so much that, at the beginning of our friendship, her honesty shocked me, it left me amazed, the way she could be audacious in letting everyone know the things that she wanted, would not take, and what was unforgivable to her. The implication of this was that when you wronged Ejiro, you had no excuse, you couldn’t say you didn’t know.

Today, it is because of the absence of excuses with Ejiro that I am outside her door. It is 5:00pm, I have been here since 9:00 am and Ejiro has not opened the door for me. I have cajoled, begged, and, I have made declarations that I would not make to a man and my friend has refused to let me in. I want to tell you what happened, and how it happened, I want to sing from a rooftop that I did not mean to hurt Ejiro but I know it will not be enough, I want to tell her that things like this are not handled in anger, but in understanding, I want her to know that time is a wicked thief and something we did not have the luxury of. I know she is stubborn, but I hope that she sees beyond her pain, and allows us time before I go. The explanation to how I am outside her door, is akin to one of those stories that the oldest man in the village narrated surrounded by children under an aged Mango tree. I will try to tell you in a fair way, so that when I am done you will not pick sides or, maybe pick her side.

It was exactly two days after I met Ejiro that I went for my routine check up at my uncle’s hospital, it was a thing that my family had decided to do religiously after the loss of my dad, the subtle way that death snatched him completely blindsided us. This was the birth of routine checkups in the Obruke family, nobody was excused, which was why on the 4th of March 2019, I walked into the hospital for a checkup that normally took thirty minutes to one hour, and made plans with Ejiro for after the checkup, to evangelize. I had even told her to wait at the market, that I wouldn’t be long, after all there was nothing wrong with me, I was doing the checkup to hear exactly that. This evangelism was why when my uncle told me that he had found two lumps, one in my throat and another in my breast, the first thing I uttered was “Hian, uncle I have evangelism o”. The question of whether or not the lumps were cancerous, did not occur to me. Ejiro could not be kept waiting and there were souls to buy. It was with this in my mind that I rushed out of the hospital, and preached that day, it was also with this new found knowledge that after we finished preaching, I ate with gusto at our normal Amala joint. It was tradition. I know that this is not the normal reaction to finding out that death is a possibility, but, with me it was different. It brought a realization that I had wasted too much time doing nothing, like I had spent so much time building, and not on rock. I forgot that I was only a visitor here. It was why the news given to me two years ago did not seem to be bad news in the way that people viewed bad news, it allowed me to be more intentional in the things I did, and the way I did them. It adorned me with a new found audacity.

When it came to death, Ejiro knew the same things that I knew, but sometimes, the matters of the heart do not give room for knowledge to stretch her wings, telling her that I may be dying was not an option. She could not know, she would have convinced me to get treatment, she always got what she wanted and I planned on finishing all the Master required of me before I finally left. There was no point prolonging, what I knew was temporal from the beginning, because that is what life is, temporal. Another reason was cowardice, I was going to make my exit without her knowing, despite us being one. I wanted to enjoy every last minute I had with her; besides how would I have approached it; how would I have uttered the thing that all men fear, a sentence drenched with heaviness. The only methods I can even think of now was to have gotten a cake that had dying soon written on it, or a balloon that had see you in Zion on it, maybe we would have laughed and cried after. However, I did not think of these then, I was too consumed by fear to even consider that she would find out somehow. My fear accompanied by delusion cemented the idea that there was no way this news would reach her ears. We would meet again, we both know that we are not bound by death, but the head and the heart do not handle knowledge the same way. I want her to listen to me, but I do not have anything to say, I want us to cry together and hold each other, I want her to run her fingers through my hair and tell me how much she will miss our time on earth, and for us to proceed to assure each other of the ‘death of death’ that it died upon the resurrection of Jesus and lost victory over us because we are in Christ. I want us to grieve and then celebrate. Rinse and repeat, because, I will go, my time is up. There’s nothing I’m more assured of.

You must have asked yourself repeatedly, “How did she find out” “who told her” And maybe you have even lent me some of your anger and sympathy if any exists but, nobody told her. I wish someone told her, but that is impossible because nobody knew asides my uncle. It was the staggering nature of carelessness, the way it enters into places unbothered and its confidence to assume acceptance, that was how she found out. I have nobody to be angry at but myself. The Journal, I gave her my journal to write in. I had written something and given it to her to read and respond, it was our thing, communication was better that way for us, and no, it was not the first time that I had given her, in the almost three years of our friendship that journal had passed between us so many times, but this time around I am left to assume on her behalf and for your itching ears that she wanted to reminisce on our relationship so she went over the pages of the journal, and opened a folded page. I could not even be angry with her for unfolding that page, we respected each other’s privacy, but things like that did not count as a breach of privacy for us. Her act of reading was not the problem, the problem was the content of that page. This was why when her brother, Omena brought back the journal instead of her I knew there was a problem, my knowing was only confirmed when Mena, as we call him looking at me with eyes the colour of blood, hugged me tightly. He walked around my room, said three words that shattered a heart that was already strained, dropped the journal on my bed and left. It was with speed, that my body only knew before this illness arrived at my doorstep that I opened the journal, she did not respond. The only thing on the page she should have written in was “you’re dying”? it was still operating in this renewed speed that I went to her house, the journal in one hand, my locs akin to that of a homeless person and, the words of Mena ringing in my head, “she won’t eat”. I am scared because she has been with my journal for two weeks and Ejiro loved to eat, the questions in my head will not give me relief, if she found out yesterday, that means she hasn’t eaten since yesterday, and if longer, then her stomach has been without fuel for longer. Ejiro never starved herself, even when she lost her father she ate. The thing about regret is that it never assaults you, it comes slowly, it starts with questions, then sends flashbacks until wishing becomes your anchor, the only thing preventing you from insanity.

It is outside her door that I stand, telling you of my sister who has started the process of grieving, and is already at the stage of anger. I am now seated on the floor, the strength that visited me temporarily has evaporated, and the weakness that follows this illness has embraced me with zeal, overpowering me so much that I lay down. The two things that I know in this moment is that Ejiro will not open the door, and, I do not have time. The only reason that earth still has me will not open the door for me. The one I stand outside, and the one that mans her heart. I should’ve known, she is as fearful as she is bold. This leaves me with one option, the same thing that landed us here. Our Journal, it is the only way that I can give my apology, forgiveness, acceptance and love to my sister. It will have to do.

My Ejiro, I know you enough to know that it is not so much anger but disappointment and fear that you feel because I did not come to you when I found out, that I did not come to you when there was still time. My Love, it is the fathers will, that I go, it would have been of great discomfort to bring this to you, the things that you will are of great conflict to what the father wants. My love, as much as my heart belongs to you- the father owns me. So, I leave you with these reminders, in hope that you have a hope that is unshaken.

Ejiro do not forget that we are promised a banquet of the richest food and the finest wine. God has vowed to remove the cloud of sorrow, the sovereign Lord has given his word to destroy death forever, and wipe away the tears from everyone’s eyes- take comfort in this, I will not tell you that you should not cry my heart, but when you do remember that God himself has promised to wipe away the tears from your eyes. I’m even tempted to tell you to commit to creating rivers, because imagine God cleaning your tears?!

Ejiro, do not forget that one day, God will raise people after they have died, they will come alive again and be like angels in heaven. It is because of this that I beg you not to consider me dead, consider me, awaiting the resurrection. I want you to joy in this fact, because God is not the God of dead people, he is the God of people who are alive. My good good friend, this just means that I’m not even dying, think about me waiting for you to come, think of it like I have travelled, and you will be joining me when you’re chanced. I cannot wait to hug you again.

My heart, so that you do not read these words and murmur to yourself that I have started again, that I am preaching again, when I should be using my last words to woo you- this is me wooing you, my love; there was no need that I had that remained unmet because I had you, you loved me truly, you supported me with your all. Thank you, my friend, for taking your time to know and care for me. I am laying down outside your door, and I cannot even be angry with you because your pain is my pain, and I understand you completely, with no reservation. So, my love, when you read this, I want you to know that I love you, let it be without question. I want you to know that we belong to each other, even until my last breath. My sister friend, I want you to glory that you know of a life well spent, a life unwasted, ready to give account to the father upon being asked.

I Ese, with all of my heart wish that you rejoice, that when you put me to rest, you lay me down with colours, yellows and pinks, purples and reds, greens and oranges. Throw a feast for me my love. I will continue to love you, even in the after, Zion. Lastly, I am grateful in so many ways that words will never be able to express, that you told me I was stained on the 2nd of March 2019. I think about my decision to wear white on that day and I giggle, with my legs in the air. I thank God for all the decisions I made that got me to that retreat in March. I thank God that the cramps did not stop me from coming, because I cannot imagine a life lived without you.

I love you Ejiro, infinitely.