"They used to joke that the city had Thorns"
Ubong never believed it.
To him, the city was a flame that never goes out. A place where efforts are appreciated and values are seen, a place where names are made and stamped.
He arrived at twenty-one with his shredded backpack, which contained his clothes and his old Notes; these were proofs of his dreams, dedication, and a Life he refused to leave behind. The city welcomed him not with kindness but with a test of different phases, to detect the level of his perseverance.
Nsisong arrived three days later with his bag of worn-out clothes unannounced, just hopeful, wearing a smile as he arrived in a promised land.
"A victory shared is twice the joy — a burden carried alone is twice the weight", he said, throwing his bag beside Ubong's bed.
That's where the real journey began.
Two young men.
In a tight space.
With Endless courage.
The first month really touched them; it questioned their hope, but they stood steadfast.
Electricity was just a rumour, shrubs took the piece of land where the community's transformer was placed.
Food was a question, eaten based on connection.
Hope was just this fearless Bull that gave them a reason to keep going.
The floor heard their laughter and cries, it heard the gross statements their stomach made. Nsisong teases him about his passion for wires and circuits. Ubong joked about his old guitar and impossible songs.
"Engineer.. Engineer", Nsisong says with a laugh, "when you are wealthy, don't forget me o"
Ubong would give a clap back, "When you are as famous as Davido, I'll fix your musical instruments for free".
The walls of the room heard their promises and smiled.
Success arrived, not swiftly but quietly.
Like a cold breeze on a hot afternoon.
You will feel its calm presence.
Ubong secured the role of a junior technician; his boss saw the vision, his hard work, and his resilience, all in silence, but with hope. Promotions came in, dressed in an academic gown. This was just a crown to his resilience.
A better phone replaced the vacuum.
An extra shirt replaced two worn-out shirts.
His name went places.
Money began to speak where hunger placed its silence
Nsisong celebrated every little Victory like his own.
He bragged about his friend to neighbors and strangers
He took pictures when Ubon bought a nice Suit.
He showed how loud his happiness can be.
However, success comes with numerous responsibilities. Ubong climbed the ladder of wealth.
He diverted.
Calls were shortened.
Visits were postponed.
The Laughter they both shared was now a distraction.
"You are always busy," Nsisong said, her voice flooded with disappointment.
Ubong leaned his back against the wall, his eyes were just fixed on nothing in particular.
"I am building something," he replied
"I am losing you," Nsisong said.
Neither of them knew who was right or wrong.
They were both afraid.
Ubong had a wiring contract in an estate, a place where houses were products of an architect's glorious imagination. One notice caught his attention, on the gate boldly written, "For sale".
A neat duplex.
Two rooms and a kitchen.
Constant electricity that was once a rumour.
He imagined Nsisong there playing his old guitar box.
He smiled at his imagination.
He started saving quietly.
Not because he wanted this alone.
But because he was afraid of disappointment more than secrecy.
He wanted to speak when victory was assured.
He made the purchase
Moved in carefully
Not all at once
But one shirt with every late night.
One file for every work morning.
One tool with an excuse for work.
Nsisong was puzzled, and he asked. Ubong answered honestly but not completely.
Just files for the office.
Just shirts for work.
Just tools.
These were not lies but just fragments of truth.
The plan was to move together at last.
Just one day
A big surprise
A future shared together.
Rumours flew.
Nsisong heard from someone who had no reason to lie but just to deliver.
"Your friend is a landlord".
Nsisong smiled sheepishly.
Then transitioned to a frown.
He waited.
Made calls.
No answer.
Sent a text.
No reply.
Another word pressed the thumb to the wound.
"He is moving in alone".
His mind was puzzled.
His tears couldn't fall, it defied gravity.
He was in shock
He waited and was tired of waiting.
From a broken heart, he sent words.
"Money has taught you how to forget"
Ubong was in a bus when he read this message.
He typed to reply
He deleted
Typed again
Deleted.
He was out of words to write down.
He stopped trying.
He wanted to explain better face-to-face.
He wanted the whole truth and planned to appear together.
That's the worst decision he made.
Ubong returned to the room days later, hoping to receive rage and anger.
But it was all silence, emptiness, and peace.
No guitar.
No note.
He stood there staring at the walls.
The walls that heard genuine laughter.
The walls that saw endurance and perseverance.
All empty like it was before he moved in.
Nsisong left the city with no notes or forwarding address.
Life happened so fast.
The same wind that the tree danced to shocked its roots.
Ubong moved fully into his furnished home.
Not with happiness.
But silence that wasn't part of the script.
He bought furniture that couldn't speak back.
He bought hardware that couldn't bring laughter.
Time passed.
His name was on everyone's mouth
His work expanded.
He had wealth
But wealth without happiness.
Years passed, and Ubong made a name for himself.
He had houses and companies.
While fiddling with his phone, a notification popped up from his Gmail.
His memories were updated.
Ubong clicked
A name appeared
Nsisong
It was an unread voice note.
His hands shook while he reached for the play button.
It wasn't anger.
It wasn't sorrow.
Just genuine laughter filled with love.
"My bro, guess what, Nsisong laughed, "My guitar just snapped its last string today. It has suffered enough."
The Laughter faded.
A softer voice followed, "If you ever hear this, I just want us to laugh together again".
That was it
No blame thrown
No regrets
Just longing.
Ubong slid to the floor slowly.
He mumbled for words.
He was betrayed by his own speech organ.
He whispered, "I built us a home"
Silence responded.
His glass house he lived in was spotless
But the rooms were filled with regrets and guilt.
Inside the room.
Was a man learned.
Some losses don't cry
They stay
images generated with GrokAi
Posted Using INLEO
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