Friendship Matters
If ever I needed prayers, help and more prayers, now is the time. Just so many things, so many things,... I wish I could, but I'd rather not speak of them here, since my anonymity is a myth.
But I shall speak of other things, first of all is friendship, especially among girls. I saw this video, on facebook, involving some girls in Vivian Fowler Memorial School- a posh girls-only secondary school. Apparently, some girl, named Shola, had provoked the wrath of two of her obviously egotistical classmates, by saying something to someone (dem say, dem say). Anyway, the video opens on these girls walking up to the Shola girl and confronting her very dramatically, about whatever it is she has said. Gradually, the thing degenerates into an advanced bullying session with the two girls slapping Shola simultaneously and pushing her down when she tries to stand up and leave the room. At the end of the whole brouhaha Shola had received 18 slaps in addition to the humiliation and insults. I watched the whole video with a mixture of anger, hurt and empathy. In school I was that girl, the one always humiliated by her friends, her classmates. In answer to that, I became a very unpredictable, agressive friend. If I so much as sensed that you were going to do something to offend me, i would go off on you so fast, your head would spin. It took that video to make me realise why, after all these years. Lately, my mind has been going to the past and all the strange friends I had gathered, and dropped over the years, and here are some of the stories.
I met Chinwe in university. We went to lectures in the same faculty, and she had a friend who knew some of my acquaintances/ classmates. I don't remember how/when we became close but I know why. I greatly admired Chinwe; to me she was all I wasn't, and more. To her credit she was pretty, confident, secure, neat and organized. She had the ability to empathise on a deeper scale than most people I knew. But Chinwe had a deep, dark side. She was an expert at making herself look good at the expense of someone else, her first instinct was self-preservation, she hid her character from her parents and her penchant for organization bordered on OCD.
This self-preservation tendency came to the fore when Chinwe finished her exams, one semester, and had to go home for the holidays. She lived in Lagos, and I lived in Benin where our school was. Since the bus park was on my way home I saw her off , then went home. In the evening I called her to ensure she got home all right, and that was when the 'wahala' started.
TO BE CONTINUED
But I shall speak of other things, first of all is friendship, especially among girls. I saw this video, on facebook, involving some girls in Vivian Fowler Memorial School- a posh girls-only secondary school. Apparently, some girl, named Shola, had provoked the wrath of two of her obviously egotistical classmates, by saying something to someone (dem say, dem say). Anyway, the video opens on these girls walking up to the Shola girl and confronting her very dramatically, about whatever it is she has said. Gradually, the thing degenerates into an advanced bullying session with the two girls slapping Shola simultaneously and pushing her down when she tries to stand up and leave the room. At the end of the whole brouhaha Shola had received 18 slaps in addition to the humiliation and insults. I watched the whole video with a mixture of anger, hurt and empathy. In school I was that girl, the one always humiliated by her friends, her classmates. In answer to that, I became a very unpredictable, agressive friend. If I so much as sensed that you were going to do something to offend me, i would go off on you so fast, your head would spin. It took that video to make me realise why, after all these years. Lately, my mind has been going to the past and all the strange friends I had gathered, and dropped over the years, and here are some of the stories.
I met Chinwe in university. We went to lectures in the same faculty, and she had a friend who knew some of my acquaintances/ classmates. I don't remember how/when we became close but I know why. I greatly admired Chinwe; to me she was all I wasn't, and more. To her credit she was pretty, confident, secure, neat and organized. She had the ability to empathise on a deeper scale than most people I knew. But Chinwe had a deep, dark side. She was an expert at making herself look good at the expense of someone else, her first instinct was self-preservation, she hid her character from her parents and her penchant for organization bordered on OCD.
This self-preservation tendency came to the fore when Chinwe finished her exams, one semester, and had to go home for the holidays. She lived in Lagos, and I lived in Benin where our school was. Since the bus park was on my way home I saw her off , then went home. In the evening I called her to ensure she got home all right, and that was when the 'wahala' started.
TO BE CONTINUED
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