THE CIRCLE OF DYSFUNCTIONAL FRIENDS…
In the late 1950s, St Thomas Aquinas, a Catholic High School in Accra, had a headmaster by name Rev Father Maurice Lesage. Father Lesage was a botanist. The man had such affections for snakes that he wrote a book “Snakes of West Africa”. He also kept snakes as pet on the school compound, weird huh?
Well, wait till you meet my buddy Jeffrey. I have been friends with Jeffrey for over ten years but we haven’t met in the last five years. So on my visit to Cape Coast a couple of weeks ago, I decided to check on Jeff. It was as usual very exciting spending time with Jeff and his girlfriend Audrey. I was forced to endure the absolute discomfort of watching snakes in cages for about thirty minutes. Jeff has got a huge collection of snakes at his backyard. 29 in number in 11 different cages, Jeff hopes to collect about 350 species of snakes before his exit from this world. He tells me there is a lot to learn from snakes. I mean what is there to learn from snakes?
In my discomfort I asked Jeff to get me inside so that I put together a piece of history notes I gathered at Kwaman on my way to Cape Coast from Kumasi. I made myself comfortable in the two-in-one sofa at the far left side of the living room. I took my laptop out of the bag and started working. It was at this moment I felt something creeping at my back. I ignored it and continued working whilst talking to Jeff. Then he brought the subject of snakes again telling me his MPhil thesis is on snakes. It immediately occurred to me that, the thing creeping at my back could be a snake. What?
I jumped out of the chair as if I had been touched by acid, totally dismantling my laptop’s screen. And yes in the sofa was a royal python which had been disturbed by my sitting on that sofa. Audrey had left it there few minutes before I entered. Which sane couples keep a snake in the bedroom or living room? Audrey tells me the snake sometimes creeps into their bed when they are sleeping at night. This weird attitude of Jeffrey and Audrey took my mind to my other friends. I’m quite sentimental about old relationships, so this means I have pretty much a lot of friends. Mostly the friendship last for a period after which we all grow apart with the occasional phone calls. I keep wondering if I will ever be able to maintain such friendships.
It was a remarkable Thursday evening. I was at the pub just opposite where the ‘Typhoon night club’ once existed. I realized that space is now a meeting place of some group of Christians on campus. It’s the last day of the year. I couldn’t believe it. 2015 just went so fast. I shook my head in utter silence, an unspoken emphasis on the economic anxiety encompassing the African youth.
I gestured to the pub attendant to serve me a bottle of ice-cold Guinness. Once the black liquid had been served, I smiled to myself, nodded and took a sip. I’d done that a couple of times in the year that was just about to end and I was certain I’d do it a couple more times in the coming year.
Four years ago, I had been at this same pub. But back then, I was working on my undergraduate project. I was left with some five months to obtain my first degree. That was in 2011. On that night in 2011, I sat at that corner next to Jude, my high school mate. He wanted me to be in church the next day with him. I wanted to decline but Jude wasn’t the kind of guy I could easily say no to… So I agreed to his request before he left to visit a friend at Evandy.
A little over six months later, I got the call from George that Jude had passed away. I was shocked, confused but certain it was a mistake. I had spoken to him just the week before. I jokingly told him I was going to give him a surprise at our graduation ceremony the following month. I kept telling myself it simply couldn’t be. I was saddened to think that all of the tomorrows he’d been planning would never materialize. I was saddened to think that nobody would shout my name whenever I pass the building technology block on the campus of Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology. I was going to miss Jude’s boisterous welcome and his warm bear hugs. I was totally confused.
Four years on, as I sat at that same pub. It occurred to me that a person’s death is not the end in itself. Death was inevitable. We are all going to face it at some point. We can’t escape fate. It seemed to me what mattered most was the kind of life we live whilst alive. What kind of life did he lead?
That question brought a huge smile on my face. It was impossible to think of my friend without smiling because he was incredibly full of life. There were many times I met him on campus that I could describe as pure bliss. I could never meet him and not be lifted. I remember always telling him albeit jokingly to consider a career in motivational speaking. I would simply say, he was someone who could touch your inner conscience in ways I bet he probably wasn’t even aware. I can’t think of a life better believed than that.
I have spent the last couple of days going through my diaries from 2007. It all started when I decided to read my 2012 diary. Before I knew it, I was knee-deep in memories of times long gone. It is funny how these memories last. You are instantly pulled back into the moment when those events took place. The exact conversations and the jokes that got everybody laughing or the rude remarks that got everyone staring in your direction. And yes there were the moments of heated anger and stupidity all in the diaries. It was as though every page you turned was gradually pulling you back to the past. You begin to look beyond that single moment into all that preceded and followed it. You remember who you were at all the various points in your life and how you’re progressing.
One of my entries that had me spellbound was that of 21st March, 2013. It was my birthday. I recorded an event that happened at the beach in Winneba. I had been with Harry and Chris. I still remember our discussion on the future of the Ghanaian youth. We were barely in our early twenties, doing our national service. I remember our naivity, innocence, full of laughter and possibility. I could only marvel when I read the entry, knowing the trials we have each triumphed to be where we are today.
What I realized going through my diaries is that so many of the things we imagine to be solid markers of identity and recognition like -shiny cars, flashy jewellery, expensive phones- are completely ephemeral. It is the intangible stuff like emotions that last in our memories. What we are to one another, the beauty or the pain we bring to each other. That is what we carry with us to the grave, and what people carry of us even after we’re long gone and buried.
As I sat writing, I thought about my friends from my childhood, friends from high school, college, graduate school and work. I thought about friends long gone. I came to one conclusion; I have been blessed with some of the most amazing people on earth. Even as I weep over the ones who departed early, I realized I was truly blessed to have known them in that relatively short period. I thought about all the smiles of my childhood, the mischief of my teen years at Winnesec and the intensity of my academic pursuit in KNUST. I thought about all the drink ups, BYOB parties and toasts that have passed between my friends and me over the years. Memories that comfort me in times of loneliness and distress. I drifted off to sleep, there on the swivel chair, singing softly the words of Deana Carter’s strawberry wine, feeling as though I’d tapped into the true meaning of life, friendship, the essence of joy, our reason for being here in this life, in this world.
I drifted off to sleep feeling thoroughly at peace. With an open heart and raised glasses, I wish you a 2016 filled with love, friendship, joy and peace. Happy New Year!