Bana was the type of friend you want near but also far away from you. You know he isn’t good for you, but his presence calms the storm. You could almost feel the peace a his presence.
Bana hails from the suburb of Lagos, the rough part where you sometimes have to fight your way through daily life.
Considering his environment, you could say he turned out fine despite the absentee Hausa dad and a somewhat present mom. He didn’t come from much, and you could tell after your first conversation with him. He didn’t want much either, just to be happy.
Bana is the kind of person who shows up at the exact time you need them. The thing, tho, about these kinds of people is that because they showed up that way, you get comfortable and believe they’ll always show up. Then there comes a day you desperately wish they’d just show up.
I met Bana in a 2go trivia game room. Those days, you use 2go rooms to make more friends. We must have been both in some mood for friendship that night.
He would remain one of the many faceless people on my contact list until that night when he reached out and said he’d like to talk about something at precisely 10 pm the next day.
I wondered what that was. I looked at myself and thought, “what could he possibly want?” I hope he knows I have nothing to give. But I was at some of my lowest points, reading novels and crying to sleep every night. I’d just about hear anything that distracts me from my own miseries right then, so I agreed to hear him out.
What was the saying? Misery loves company
At 10 pm the next day, Bana texted me, and we chatted until midnight about everything and nothing. The whole time, I thought,
“he’ll bring up what he wants soon enough.” But for now, let me indulge him. I’d take the company for now.
At exactly midnight, when we were saying our good nights, I reminded him that he never talked about what he wanted the whole night. He almost embarrassingly admitted that he only wanted to do what we just did.
“I see you have some miseries to work through as well; we’ll work something out.”
And we did. Every night after that, I’d go online to my chat buddy, then when we were through, I’d read some stories and cry myself to sleep. Life got a little better.
My first argument with Bana was really tense. I no longer remember what we argued about. Still, I remember asking myself why I was so upset after that argument.
I’ve always been self-assertive, so it wasn’t hard to conclude that I liked him; he had come to mean a lot to me.
Bana had a group of friends that meant well sometimes. For instance, Ani and the rest of his crew tried to console him whenever we had a fight. They disliked how he was a different person when he was on good terms with me. It means they always had to lose their friend for some periods.
Ani liked the periods we fought the most. It was always a cold kind of war between us.
When Bana is not talking to me, there’s always a tendency that he’s drinking or gang fighting. He tells me stories of his friends being wild and always concluded with how I grounded him. He hoped it would always be that way.
Bana was open in such a way that on some days, he divided his passwords between myself and selected friends. On one of those days, Ajoke took it upon herself to introduce herself and tell me why I needed to stay away from him.
Bana and I, we were like peas in a pod. There were moments when, although I knew he grew up that way, that he was at home in the environment he grew up in; I wished he would walk away from it, see, and live a better one. And for a moment, he tried. He really did try.
Life pressures can be overwhelming, and mine overwhelmed me at a point. 100 level was a starting point, a leveling point, and everything in between. It was also the point where I began to lose Bana.
Bana and I had been in a fight five months prior, he thought I was the one, and I’d point blank told him I wasn’t, not with his lifestyle, and religion barred us. One of us would have to make a 360.
So, some months after I finally got into a higher institution, he thought I had begun to act strange.
“School has made you a big girl; you no longer have the time to be associated with me.”
Then, in the same breath, he admitted to joining a cult. He joined up five months ago.
Bana had just added to my list of troubles. The cult was an absolute NO for my friends and me.
But you see, Bana survived most of my boundaries. How do you walk away from your shuttle back to earth, no matter how bad? How do you get your head out of the sand long enough to do that?
I thought you should try to fix it instead, especially if you’d be stranded without it. And that was what I did.
Bana made a deal with me to quit the cult after two years. But he was no longer around for our midnight chat. When I asked, he said he’d go with his friends to this cult meeting.
That night, I cried earlier than usual for the first time in a while. First, for my friend, then for myself.
I was in school now, and I wanted that Bana too. So I’d advise him on the occasions we talk, and he’d promise to be a better person.
He tried to be a better person on one occasion, so much so that he once made it to the gates of Auchi poly, but he never got in.
But sometimes, you’re not enough. You must allow people to be the push they need.
Of course, he promised to be a better person after that. He’d try harder next time. And I prayed he would. At this point, he had started to disappear, only to show up once every three or four months. I was always glad to see him regardless.
When I asked him once how he always had my number, even though he always came back with a different one, he said he had written it down on a note he could never lose.
It must have been a rough couple of months because he disappeared again, but he came back embittered. There were no sweet words this time. Instead, there were regrets and wishes.
“You know, I always thought you’d be the one, that you’d be the reason I finally changed. I wanted you to change me.”
However, long before then, I’d learned to realize you could never really change anyone. Not unless they wanted to change themselves. And Bana had people I’d have to go into physical wars with.
The second to the last time Bana and I talked, we had a bigger misunderstanding. He had gone off for longer this time, and I missed and dreaded his return. It’s not that I was scared, but it was always an emotional rollercoaster whenever Bana reappeared. Also, the two years he promised had passed.
We each had a lot to say, and I remember telling him to lose the note. Whatever he could do to finally misplace my number.
One night in 2020, it had been more than a year since Bana reached out, and I wished I had let him know he did help me at a point. That at one time in my life, he was one of the reasons I kept going. I remember telling this to another former friend who thought I should just find closure and let Bana go.
He reappeared two days after my conversation about him. And I thought his reappearance a life gift. I could finally pay my due, tell him what he helped me through, and thank him for it. I had a nagging feeling we might be nearing the end. After that, I thought I could rest easy knowing he should be out there.
Of course, he was mad for a bit, but I told him I was over it, and the world became bright again for both of us. I have no recollection of how this conversation ended, but it was the last I had with him.
Bana drummed it into my ears each time I’m mad at someone that I can’t always have things go the way I want. That saying rang true in our case as well. Life doesn’t always happen how we want it.
I have no idea where he is or how he is doing. If he’s still alive. But like my other friends, whenever he crosses my mind, I hope he’s fine and forging ahead.
That he did away with wild friends, and he drank less. That he did go to school and realize his dreams. He has been through a lot and deserved that, at least.
Whenever he crosses my mind, I think a hundred and one things. But tonight, I thought I’d write about my friend.
I’ve known Bana since 2013, and although we never met except through pictures, he was somewhat what you call an oxymoron.
And if he does show up, I’d like to inquire if he ever overcame his demons. Is he happy?
And..
On one of these days, when the sun is bright in the sky, when we have our bellies filled with food, and we feel contended again. On a day when we’re so happy we forget how being gloomy feels, maybe we’ll talk about Edward.
Because Edward was the tiny flicker of happiness that showed there was still hope. The kind of hope that wants to know how your story comes together, a hope that makes you believe that all could still be well.
