Chigozie Mbadugha

Lagos, Nigeria

I Only See A Friend

3:40 a.m. in mid-August…

A few years ago, I got a phone call that dashed my world. I lost my favorite sister-in-law after an elective surgery. I have consciously blotted out the exact date. It could have been yesterday.

My head spun around. My heart beat rapidly against my rib cage. I sank to the floor and wept bitterly.

“This was not the outcome we expected! No! Who will tell Mama?,” I cried.

I had imagined a new hairdo, new clothes we would shop for before you go home after your full recovery. It was not to be. I resisted the urge to go for an early morning walk outside the house. I needed air. My head felt foggy. This was not happening.

I instinctively called you – my sister from another mother. We speak different languages, and we pray to God from different religious purviews, but love made me call you for support in the depth of my pain. Love made you answer at its first ring.

I don’t see your language or culture. Love has made our differences blurry. I only see a friend.