Dear Blessing,

A letter to my best friend in celebration of IWD.

Dear Blessing,

Firstly, do not let it flatter you that I'm about to admit that you are the best roommate I've ever had. Puhlease, let me hear word; I can hear you making mouths already.

But heck, I recently found out that you were my best friend, even if I never saw you that way while you were here. You were there; you were present.

I read the work of a colleague who said that his father stopped journaling when he married his mother. Likewise, you were my own journal too. I returned every day looking forward to telling you everything.

On the good days, the terrible nights, you were there. You listened when I ranted. You listened when I had misunderstandings with my friends. You listened when school and politics were taking their toll on me. You were there, Blessing, you were present. You were my best friend.

Now, I am curious; were there days that you would rather I closed my mouth? If there were those days, you never showed any sign. You listened, and attentively too.

You know, I can count on my three fingers people I can be myself with, and you are right on the top of that list. You loved me without judgment; you listened without judgment. You saw me as human, as someone worthy, and I won’t be able to erase the feeling of being seen.

We danced, Blessing; we sang, we laughed, we spoke about men who needed flogging, we spoke about the fine sweet men too. We lay unbothered on our beds when chaos struck in the hostel. But, Blessing, if the hostel was burning true true, is that how our lackadaisical attitude would cast us away?

Heck, two nights would forever be etched in my memory. One you may not recall, and the other you should.

On the first occasion, I had returned from wherever it is I was coming from. It was a terrible day, but I thought I did a good job of concealing that. I remembered telling you I wanted to take a walk because it was a norm you were used to. On my return, your first words to me were “Do you feel better now?” It may not seem like much to you, but it meant the entire world to me. To be seen.

The other occasion was the night I cried those ugly tears. Crazy night. But you were there by my side, on my bed, consoling, comforting, you were there.

Can you remember when you helped me order my microphone for my YouTube, and we sat analyzing the names after names for the channel?

And you were not all that to me alone. You are also a light to your family. The calls to your sister and the hundreds of “Are you sure you are fine?” The random weekly calls to your parents, ending each call with “I love you.” Gosh, you are amazing.

And you were annoying too. Blessing, absolutely nothing would have happened to you if you ignored my unwashed dishes or my soaked laundry, and my untidy space. But no, you would scream at the top of your lungs and shame me till I did right by myself.

You were annoying too when you laughed till you cried because of a wrong choice of dress or when I uttered something awfully embarrassing.

So, Blessing, I miss you every day. Now that you are not here, I feel it so acutely. This year, I feel the loneliest I have ever felt. So on terrible days where my heart feels heavy, I cry with your name on my lips. I cry knowing that if you were here, it wouldn’t be this bad. It’s lonely, Blessing, and I wish you were here in this final phase.

You know, I have thought of a way to balance this, citing what I did for you too. But I instantly knew what we had was one of those where one side gave, while the other received.

So, Blessing, it’s genuinely okay if a lover, a sibling, a friend wants to express to someone how they feel about them, but they feel the word love won’t encompass their emotions. It’s okay for them to say ‘I “Blessing” you.’ Because you are more than what love and light are.

Know that I love you and I am grateful for being my safe space. You were the best, Blessing, and blessed and lucky are those that will experience you as you proceed in life.

We will meet again at the top, Blessing. When you’ve made this your tech moneyyyy.

Your roomie,

Aisha