The day my best friend got the visa and I didn't

Two years ago, my best friend Funke and I were thick as thieves planning our japa to Canada. We would spend hours at that cafe in Yaba, filling out forms, comparing IELTS scores, talking about which city we would settle in. I was so sure we would leave together.

Then her visa came through in three weeks. Mine got refused. Just like that.

I smiled for her, I really did. But inside I was rotting. The jealousy was eating me alive. I started avoiding her calls. When she posted her flight ticket on WhatsApp status, I muted her. When she landed in Toronto and sent me a voice note crying about how beautiful it was, I deleted it without listening.

We haven't spoken in a year and a half. She sends me a message every Christmas. I leave it on read.

God when? But looking back now, that refusal pushed me to build my PR agency from my bedroom in Lekki. I am paying my siblings' school fees. I am eating my mother's soup every Sunday. I am living my best life right here.

Sometimes the door that closes is God's way of keeping you where you need to be.