I got a call from Anu’s school.

She had just gotten her period and was hysterical. Apparently, she had requested that I come to school immediately to pick her up.

It made me laugh. I knew how dramatic my daughter could be. We had talked about periods for as long as I could remember, or at least for as long as I could offer her the most basic understanding of what they were.

Since the year she turned ten, I had been preparing her for how her first experience might play out.

Now, a few months shy of her fourteenth birthday, her period had finally come, and she was going to make a whole show of it.

I left my office immediately and drove to her school. On the way, I called Layi to update him.

He said he would meet us there. We both laughed at how we were indulging her.

But I was happy, happy to be a part of every milestone of Anu’s life. Even happier that Layi never missed one either.

We loved our daughter deeply. Even before she was born, we had made a commitment to be present and available parents, no matter how demanding our jobs became.

We had waited three years to get pregnant. The doctors had never been able to find anything wrong with either of us. And then, somehow, Anu came.

She had been our only child for almost fourteen years.

Over the years, we had tried to have another baby. After two failed attempts at IVF, we eventually stopped trying actively and resigned ourselves to the possibility that perhaps Anu would be our only child.

“I’m not going to get into a long lecture with you, Anu.”

I caught her rolling her eyes from the corner of my eye.

We both laughed.

We were sitting side by side on the woven chairs beside the pool. It was a Saturday morning, she was wearing one of her oversized T-shirts and shorts.

She looked so grown-up, yet somehow still like the little girl who used to run into my room whenever she had a bad dream.

I reached over and slapped her playfully on the back.

“Mummy, anytime you say this, we end up with at least two hours of lecture, with assignments to follow.”

I laughed.

“Well, someone has to tell you these things. If it ends up being a five-hour lecture, kindly indulge me, madam.”

She smiled.

“The most important thing is that you listen and understand and of course ask questions.”

We talked about the changes happening in her body and the hormones that came with them. We talked about hygiene, her changing appearance, sex, unplanned pregnancy and sexually transmitted infections. Nothing was off limits.

She asked questions, some of them were funny, some of them surprisingly serious, some threw me off balance but I answered them as honestly as I could.

When we were done, she leaned back in her chair and stared at the pool for a while.

Then she looked at me.

“Mummy?”

“Yes?”

“I think you should start trying again for a baby.”

My brows furrowed.

She nodded.

“I still want a sibling.”

There was something about the seriousness in her voice that made me nervous. She looked sad and hopeful at the same time.

I pulled her into my arms and she rested her head against my chest. For a while, neither of us said anything.

I held my daughter and wondered how the little girl who once fit perfectly into my arms had grown into someone who could make requests about the future of our family.

Eventually, she pulled away and went inside.

I watched her disappear through the back door before picking up my phone to call Layi.

“I’m ready to try again for a baby,” I said quietly.

There was a brief silence on the other end.

“I’ll be home in a few minutes, Zee, and we can talk about it.”

“Okay, baby.”

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Cracks in the Glass – ALERO

CATCH UP : READ PART ONE HERE

Part Two : The Beginning of the End

Taking a trip down memory lane, recollecting my friendship journey with Tolani was the last thing I expected I’d do in this session.

I paused and caught myself in a half smile.

“I met her at a neighbour’s Easter party when I was twelve.

We spent the entire afternoon passing comments on everybody’s outfits.”

A small laugh escaped me as the memories came flooding in.

“We were absolutely convinced we were the fashion police of that gathering of innocent, unassuming guests who had come to have a good time.”

Layi smiled and said,

“So fashion brought you together.”

“Fashion and audacity. She had plenty of both and when she told me she was turning fifteen in a few weeks , I became more fascinated by her.”

The tension I felt when I first walked into Room 88 seemed to have disappeared, the room felt lighter and I relaxed into my seat.

“We became best friends that day.”

“Despite her being older?” He asked.

I nodded.

“The age difference was never an issue with us, we got along like white on rice.” I paused.

“Tolani was a troubled child” I dropped the information like it was a secret only I was privy to.

Layi tilted his head slightly.

“What do you mean?”

“Her parents were divorced and she lived with her dad. She’d tell me often that home was no longer the safe space it used to be since her mom left.

But our friendship blossomed into something beautiful”

We were both quite for a moment.

“What did she give you?” Layi asked.

I frowned.

“I’m not sure I understand.” I looked up at him.

“What did you receive from that friendship that you couldn’t find anywhere else?”

I had never given that a thought, but the answer came easily.

“Safety. She became my safe space. She’d say she had this strong urge to protect me from life and looking back, she did just that.

“Layi, despite not having her life together, Tolani was intent on mine not falling apart. She was like the compass guiding me through life.”

“That’s a rare type of friendship” Layi said, adjusting himself and sitting up into his chair.

“There was a break somewhere in between” I said.

I recalled how her dad sent her away to England to live with her mum, soon after her secondary school graduation.

”It was a painful separation I didn’t envisage.”

I remember when she promised to keep in touch and remain present. I held on desperately to that promise.

She kept to it and through Emails, Skype calls and yahoo messenger chats we kept communicating.

All of a sudden, it stopped. She stopped coming online, no responses to my mails or messages. I simply couldn’t reach her.

For months I was filled with so much worry, there was no one I could ask about her.

I recalled how I read an article about how people outgrow relationships especially when they’re no longer in close proximity. It felt like I had gotten my answer.

“I cried myself to sleep that night”

“How did that make you feel?” Layi asked.

He was now making notes on his iPad.

“Abandoned, rejected, forgotten. I couldn’t believe she had forgotten about me so quickly”

I was surprised by my admission.

“When and how did you reconnect?” He looked up from his iPad and took a sip from his glass of water.

I smiled. I would never forget the evening I ran into Tolani at the suya spot in Sabo, Yaba.

My eyes became moist with tears as I told Layi about the meeting and how our friendship picked up like it never experienced that ugly break.

“She saw me first and called out my name, almost in a whisper. I think she wanted to be sure it was me”

I recalled how we both stood there for seconds taking each other in, until she drew me in her arms into a tight hug.

We picked up our suya orders and she led me to where she parked her car.

It was a very heavy moment as we sat inside and she filled me in with everything that happened to her.

She told me about how she got pregnant months after she got to England. She had barely settled into her A levels.

The heartache and disappointment she brought to her mum.

She said she was too ashamed to reach out to me, she felt she had failed me.

We both cried as she shared the story of how she had to carry the pregnancy. Working through cold winter days and sometimes at night so she didn’t have to fully depend on her mum.

When she had her son, her parents decided she should come back to Nigeria to get a degree while her son will stay back with her mum.

She had registered for a diploma program in Sociology at the University of Lagos and had come to complete some paperwork.

I told her I was also in my first year to study Economics and that’s how we got back together.

“That’s such an interesting reunion” Layi said

We both smiled.

”So how did things go after that?” He asked, looking into his iPad.

“We picked up like we never left. I mean, gradually, we eased ourselves into a routine that brought us closer together. There were no awkward moments. Things just fell in place”

Like old times, our friendship found its place. We went through University together and lived a modest lifestyle.

We both graduated with very good grades and moved on to build our careers.

We both had our fair share of chaotic romantic relationships, but we thrived in our careers.

She would go to London every summer to see her son and the summer he turned 13, we travelled together.

I had only seen him in pictures and on a few occasions when they were on video calls.

It was after that trip Tolani decided she wanted to move back to England to be with her son.

She wanted to be present in his life,as well as pursue her dream to work in the fashion industry.

This time, distance did not change the dynamics of our relationship. We were intentional.

We made a commitment to meet up every summer at different holiday destinations and she spent Christmas in Lagos every year.

Tolani remained my constant. I had built a social circle around my work life as a senior executive banker but there was no friendship that was as strong as what I shared with her.

She celebrated my every win, guided me through decisions. She saw mistakes I’d have made and helped me to avoid them.

She genuinely had my best interest at heart without ever asking me for anything in return.

Layi leaned forward and cleared his throat.

“That’s a very rare type of friendship, you don’t find them so easily these days”

My face fell and I bent my head “No you don’t” I said in a whisper.

“How much impact would you say you made in her life as her friend?”

The question caught me completely off guard. I remained silent and I felt the tears build up into a lump in my throat.

Layi waited.

I mentally searched through the years and the question kept echoing in my head.

I searched desperately for moments where I had carried her the way she had carried me. Nothing of significance came to my memory.

“I loved her.” That’s all I could blurt out.

“I know.” Layi replied.

“But that’s not what I asked.”

The lump in my throat escaped as sobs and slowly into an outburst of tears. This is not how I imagined therapy would be.

“I don’t know Layi.” I said amidst my tears as I reached for the tissue box on the coffee table in front of me.

“I honestly don’t know.” I said and broke into a fresh bout of tears.

I realised I wasn’t crying because she had caught me with Kunmi.

I was crying because I realised something far more painful. I had become accustomed to being loved without ever checking whether I had loved her with the same intentionality.

Layi sat there playing with a rubik cube. No further questions or vain words of wisdom. Just silence and presence.

When I had gathered myself enough to breathe again, I stood up and excused myself.

He nodded.

“I’ll be here.”

I made my way towards the restroom.

 

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Friendships are an integral part of life. Everyone needs a friend.

We hardly talk about the ugliness of friendship breakups or how it is very important that we honour the people we call friends.

How important are friendships to you?

How intentional are you about your friendships?

Have you experienced a friendship break up before?

How do you think things will play out between Alero and Tolani?

Hope you’re also as invested in Layi’s story

You can catch up on the previous episodes

THE PROLOGUE – LAYI

SESSION ONE PART ONE – THE FALL

The characters are

Layi – The therapist at Room 88

Zola AKA Zee – Layis Wife

Anuoluwa – Layi and Zola’s daughter 

Alero – Layi’s Client

Tolani – Alero’s Best friend

Kunmi – Tolani’s Son

I would love to read your comments and thoughts.

Please share with everyone you know would enjoy reading this work of fiction.

It’s your favourite Story teller

Olujare