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I Watched My Best Friend Buy a House in Port Harcourt While I Was Begging for Transport Money.
D
Dancing Flamingo from Uyo
about 2 months ago
This was 2021. I was 29, she was 28. We had shared a room in Alakahia since NYSC, two girls from different states holding each other up in Port Harcourt. Then she got the job. One oil servicing company, 380k a month, and within a year she was talking about land in Igwuruta. I said I was happy for her. I said it loud. But inside me, something was curling up and dying. Every time she came home with a new bag, my chest would tighten. Every time she said "God did it," I would say amen and then lie awake at night wondering why God skipped my own file. I was doing small tailoring jobs, 8k here, 12k there. Sometimes I would not even have transport to go and deliver the clothes. One evening she asked me to help her draft a caption for her house post. I typed something nice. Then I went into the bathroom and cried until my eyes were swollen. She asked what happened. I told her onions. Omo, the day she noticed I had stopped commenting on her posts, she sat me down. She said, "You know I would give you my last 10k, right?" And I realised she had been carrying me for months without making me feel small. The problem was not her. The problem was me, measuring my life with her tape. We are still friends. But that year taught me something: envy is not about what the other person has. It is about what you believe you deserve. I had to kill that thing before it killed the only person who truly held me down in Port Harcourt.
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