A Letter To My Best Friend


High Crescent Avenue,



19th October, 2021.

Hello Chike,

I’m numb. I know, usually, this is the part where I express how much I miss you, and cannot wait to see you. This is the part where I describe the nature of our next adventurous embarks, how we will exchange meals in canteens and create another of our one million little jokes that no one else ever seems to understand. But tell me, Chike, do you really deserve all that? 

I’m in the arms of the clashing waves, struggling to get only an ounce of air, yet they have embraced me, plunging me into depth of a volcanic rage. The sores have been pulled open with such ferocity.  I have been broken into bits. There was a time when you would have cared, and tried your best possible to keep me afloat and untouched. So why did you do this, Chike? Just how did we get here?

You know this was meant to stay just between the two of us. When I tried explaining why, you shushed me. You said I had no need to explain, that you always have my back. Is this what that means? Is this what depending on you feels like? Now everyone knows about it. Even that big chested Nneka had something to say too. And this is all on you.

You ranted daily of how my life was perfect, and yours wasn’t. Sometimes, you made me feel I wasn’t worthy of that life, and wished it all to you. I should have known. How dumb could I have been?

I know I wasn’t meant to cheat on Ike, but I couldn’t resist Ifeanyi. And trust me, I tried hard. When it happened, I came to you in tears and guilt. I mean, you’re supposed to be my best friend for crying out loud. But that wasn’t what was on your mind, right? 

I saw the expression in your eyes when I told you what happened when Ike found out. Chike, he was right in my face brandishing a weapon and threatening to kill me! What the hell was I supposed to do? You weren’t even concerned about my safety when I told you. Instead, the next question you asked was where I buried him, and how I got a gun in the house. Like that was of any importance. You promised not to tell a soul. You did!

But you led the cops to my house. You fucking showed them the body. Did you think of what would happen to me? Did you bother telling them it was a mistake, that I didn’t even know how to handle a gun?

Now, I’m on the run, having to make do with what I hear on the news. I saw you, you know? You boldly looked at the camera, and told the world you never knew I was capable of such. How ironic! I hope you have a pleasant life, but you have to pray I don’t, because I’ll be coming for you.


Yours apoplectically,


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  1. Very good read, but the semblance in this is really uncanny I must say, and Eddie Flynn will agree it’s fifty fifty but there is a twist. My advice to Ifeoma is human beings are fickle, Chike only affirmed the maxim, “Don’t be the go-to person for people you can’t go to.”

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