He is my friend. He practically tells me everything. Most times the things he says are actually very silly but like the nice friend I am supposed to be, I just listen. I listen and comment later on. Most times again, I tell him what he wants to hear. What he wants to hear is not always the right thing. But like I said, I just go on.
The things he always doesn’t want to hear. The things that I am actually supposed to tell him so that he can become a better man. The bitter truth is what I am actually going to write about today.
But before that, let us first get to face the fact that I am a good listener (if you’re a lady and your guy has adamantly refused to listen to your requests for money to buy a better weave, this is not your breakthrough sweetheart. Keep calm.)
I listen when someone is talking. I listen when I am eating. And if you are my neighbour and you bring a woman for the night, I am definitely going to listen to whatever you do in there.
For reasons best known by me, I will just keep calling him “he”. I wont say his name. And I don’t want to forge a name.
My friend is in a long distance relationship. His girlfriend is in an upcountry Campus. Forgive me for what I am writing next, but that right there is absolute nonsense. It is nonsense because the girl doesn’t know him as much as she is supposed to. And whenever there is an element of a lie in a relationship, consider it breaking. Here is how my friend messed it up;
It is Easter Holiday and she promises to come over. First Years in Halls have unique rooms. They accommodate more people.
My friend hires a room from a continuing student for a weekend. Goes an extra mile to re-paint the room a week earlier and buys and stocks food that can last a week all in the name of impressing this woman.
I see all these developments and get surprised by the things we can do for love but I tell him that he is doing the right thing. He even goes another extra mile and hires a car.
“A car? Really? Why?”
“Because she doesn’t know I could have one. I want it to be a surprise.”
He picks her up from the bus park in this fresh nice ride under the masquerade that it is his own. The girl is naturally over the moon. I could see that when she was getting out and I knew my boy was going to enjoy his Easter. I don’t know what transpired in the room for the rest of the weekend unless during the few times he would come over to me to whisper a word or two to me. Like how the car plan worked miracles.
Plus the moments I would catch them unawares in the sinks romantically doing their dishes. She would hold the soap and he holds the sponge and then after making the foam, they would together clean the plate.
As this romantic weekend was going on. He had not opened up to the woman, that the car was not actually his. So on the day that she was to go back, the woman was dumb-striken when he said that she would have to access the bus park by taxi. Even if it were you, you would require a very convincing reason to settle for a taxi when your boyfriend has a ride. But apparently, he had told her that a friend had got an emergency and requested to use it for a trip to Rakai. (What he should have said was that the hiring was for just a day and now the owner was in possession again.)
You have no idea what paleness covered his face that afternoon as they were getting out of hall and both saw the car parked out there. Alone and spacious in the yard.
To seal it up, the owner (oblivious of whatever was going on ) walked up to him and said he needs the other half of the amount they had agreed upon.
I wasn’t around to listen to what transpired on the way to the park.
I was only available to ask one thing when he came back. It was also my first time to use a curse word in actual vocabulary,
“Why did you paint the goddamn room?”