Ojoma Idajili- Adejo Moses
I
do not know why she decided to be my friend.
We were different, different is just the word. She decided to see the
awesomeness in me and be there for me at all times. We grew up on each other
over time, became inseparable but the time was so short.
I
remember some of the secrets we shared, she knew my deepest secrets and I hers.
When all we dreamt of was meeting Prince Charming and falling in love in the
sweetest of ways, we both experienced that.
We
had big expectations for sex too. I remember her ‘waiting’. Waiting for that
one perfect person. We had all these grand fantasies about actually ‘doing it’.
Those were the good old days.
I
remember Ojoma tagging along with me in my secret quest to satisfy my carnivorous
needs. My siblings repeatedly say I was switched up at birth with a Tiv couples’
child hence my love for beef. (Meat-eater is the Igala word for the Tiv people)
They say I started eating beef before I started drinking water. She never
judged me.
Ojoma
never judged my anti-social nature, she never judged my cynicism, she just
loved me. Yes she knew I was anti-social and cynical but she loved me all the
same. I loved her too, she knew I loved her.
My
best friend is just a memory now. My best friend is in past tense, my best
friend is dead. All I have with me are the sweet sweet memories of the girl
that selflessly loved a cynical, unfriendly me. My Ojoma is gone. I feel
honoured I had such a glory as my best bud.
She
was all about life, celebrating every birthday, hanging out and having fun. I remember
one birthday party she made me organise, I invited everyone I knew for the
party, that was half the town or more! On the said day Ojoma said that funds
were yet to arrive. We did the party somehow. I stole my mother’s chicken,
Ojoma stole her mother’s chicken, I made some kind of fruit punch with zobo
leaves, baked a cake and iced it, wonder of all wonders, the icing was really
nice. The party was a huge success. I remember how we threw back out heads and
laughed after the party, I remember our mumbled responses when we were quizzed
about the whereabouts of Ojoma’s mother hen.
The
next year, I declined to organize the party, I even did not attend. I could
hear the music blaring but I did not show up till after the party. Ojoma was not angry with me. In retrospect, I would
have organised that party, I would have organised every birthday party for me
dear friend. In retrospect…
Ojoma
decided to follow me to my village for my father’s burial, for my traditional
wedding, even I did not want to go to the village. My village is faaar, even I don’t
go there as frequently. She even made matching clothes and all. I can go on and on, the story will never end.
She was just a rare gem.
My
dear Ojoma left behind her loving husband and two kids. The honeymoon was not
even over before my bestie died.
For
the first time since I started writing, I experienced writers block. I had so
much to pen but I couldn’t control my body to do my bidding. I am writing this
now.
In
loving memory of my friend among friends, I wish I deserved your friendship
more, I wish I was a better friend, I wish we had many more years to just chill
and have a nice time and celebrate all that is life. I take solace in the fact
that we will meet at Jesus’ feet. We will groove every day, we will celebrate
every minute in style, in pomp, with joy. Sandalili, I meant it every time I called
you my love, I meant every nice thing I did for you I meant it when I said I wished
I could do more and I meant it every time I told and did not tell you thank you
for being there. You were a friend among friends. You will never be forgotten.
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