Thinking back to the one time I broke down before my friends, loud cries, heavy tears and all, I must have shocked them enough to leave a lasting impression because in our friendship circle, I was the tough guy.
I’ve always been a no-nonsense person. The kind of guy who doesn’t need to say a word before people compose themselves, I’d always been a serious person and so my personality kind of gave off an aura around me that made people instantly drop some of their recklessness around me.
Sometimes my friends claimed I was too serious and needed to loosen up a little, but I didn’t mind.
Besides, my personality worked well for them too, I was the one who dealt with that one person in the lodge who refused to pay the water bill or play their role in a collective work, and I always got the person in order, regardless of gender.
I always had my emotions in check and under control, or so I thought, until I got hit by a thunderbolt in form of bad news.
It was just one sentence: Goodnews is dead.
Phew. Let’s get into it, shall we? One of the most saddening periods of my life, which has left me with a lasting regret.
It all started in my second year of senior high school, SS2, that I became close with a group of boys, Gideon, Ola, and Goodnews. We sat together in the same corner for every class, hung out during break, basically did everything together.
Even though I lived quite far from school, I always came to school very early. I would stash my bag in my locker, and head to Goodnews’ house, which was close to school.
The funny thing is, despite living nearby, Goodnews was always late. Seeing him on the assembly ground was like seeing a ghost. Dude barely made it in time. I’d find him either just waking up or about to shower. Never, not once, did I meet him ready for school. But I’d wait, and when he was set, we’d walk to school together.
Sometimes we’d pass by Gideon’s house too, and all three of us would walk to school.
At first glance, Goodnews looked like the shy type, but he wasn’t. He was quiet, yes, but also confident. And smart. Really smart. The kind of guy who owned Physics, Math, and Chemistry like he invented them. He was that lowkey genius in class.
He also loved beans. And mobile games. A deadly combo, if you ask me.
Most mornings, I’d follow him to buy beans for breakfast, his favorite, before we went to school. He’d eat while I waited. That soon became routine.
He’s also the person who corrected me on the pronunciation of ‘roar I was the English language guru in school, top speller, dictionary reader, book addict. So, when he said “Roar” is pronounced raw (/rɔːr/), I was ready to fight. “How dare you, Mr. Calculator, correct me on English?” I dragged the argument to our English teacher, and guess what? He was right. I was humbled.
After secondary school, we stayed close. I’d visit him and Gideon occasionally, sometimes with Ola.
Goodnews and his family were Deeper Life members. His dad had a contract with Anchor University while it was still under construction. He gave Goodnews a side job, and Goodnews shared it with me. We worked together, moving mattresses off bunk beds to different rooms on each hostel floor.
I think we were paid ₦50 or ₦100 per bed. I made a substantial amount of money that helped me so whenever I wanted to spend money on things that amused me, I didn’t have to ask my parents.
As we got older, our communication started to fade. Life happened. I also became more introverted, which I still don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing. But one thing I do regret about that change is losing so many chances to spend more time with my friend and all for no particular reason. It happened a few years later, in January.
Gideon called me and asked that the four of us hang out. He said Ola and Goodnews were already with him, and I was the only one left. “Can you come now?” he asked. We hadn’t seen each other in years. That should have been a yes. You’d think I jumped at the opportunity, right?
Wrong. I declined. Gave one of my usual excuses. I had something really important to do at home. I had always done that. Gideon would organize hangouts and I’d be the only one who didn’t show up. Between the four of us, he was the glue, always trying to bring the boys together.
But me? I had this idea that if someone is truly your friend, you don’t need to meet up constantly to prove it. We might not see for years, but I’d still hold you close in my heart. Besides, the days were long, and there would be plenty time to hang out in the future
Well… I was wrong.
Fast forward to my fourth year in university when I was on I.T. and working as a content writer. One afternoon, I paused the work I was doing on my article to check WhatsApp. I saw Gideon’s status. A photo of the four of us, him, Ola, me, and Goodnews.
The caption: “RIP Goodnews.”
My head spun. What?? Goodnews is dead? How? When?
I texted Gideon instantly. It was true. Goodnews had died. Just like that. I was stunned. Paralyzed. My brain went through so many things at once.
Iyke and Bez, my roommates, weren’t around at the time, they had gone to Sunic, a resturant, to buy food. I’d asked them to get me meat pie and chicken. I should have gone with them. But, as usual, I preferred staying glued to my laptop.
While they were out, Iyke called to ask what drink I wanted. Apparently, I forgot to include it. That alone was odd, me, eating chicken and meat pie without soda? Not possible.
But when he called, I was already crying, loud, guttural sobs. I picked up the phone and choked out, “Don’t buy anything again. I don’t want to eat anymore.” I hung up and continued crying.
Thankfully, they took their time, so by the time they returned, I had washed my face and was lying on the bed. Iyke walked in and said, “Guy, wetin happen na? You say you no wan chop again, but we still buy wetin you send, plus Chivita join. Wetin dey sup?”
I broke down again, told them everything I heard. Goodnews died on the day he was supposed to write his final paper to graduate from Electrical Engineering.
I kept replaying that day in January, when Gideon called and I said no. That would have been the first time in years I’d see my friends together before one of us left forever.
I cried not just from the pain of losing a friend, but from the regret. Regret that I had so many chances to see Goodnews and I just let them pass. My roommates comforted me and offered their condolences, but of course, that regret is still something I carry to this day.
With time, Bez and Iyke advised me to be less introverted. To stop hiding. To show up, because showing up matters, and sometimes it wasn’t just about caring for someone from a distance. Saying it is one thing, listening is another. Have I truly listened to them?
Honestly, I don’t know.
If this story reminded you of someone, what would you tell them right now?
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