ADUNNI – A LOVE LETTER

That’s my name, but this isn’t about me. “Adunni” is a Yoruba name, an oriki, which means “sweet to have” in English. People who know more about Yoruba might have other interpretations, but for this love letter, let’s stick with “sweet to have.”

When I was a child, the only emotional connection I had was with my family. As I grew older, I started making more connections. At 21, even with many friends, I still felt lonely. Now, at 22, I’ve realized something: my friends are truly “sweet to have.”

On my birthday, my two bestfriends said they couldn’t make it. I understood, but it hurt. They’ve always been there for me so it didn’t matter if they couldn’t make it, but still, I felt sad. Then, early that morning, I heard a knock. I opened the door, and there they were, smiling at me. They’ll never understand how happy I was in that moment. They cooked for me, I ate, and I was happy.

This year, I had my first fight with one of my best friends. I was so angry I even said I didn’t want the friendship anymore (to myself). But honestly, who was I kidding? It hurt, like my first heartbreak. I was mad at her, mad at myself, and mad at the whole situation. But we made up, and it felt like a heavy cloud lifted.

In August, I lost my job. I spent weeks looking for something new, and it became exhausting. One day, sitting on my friend’s bed, I. started talking,,, ab out a lot of things, and then I cried. She sat with me, listened, and told me everything would be okay. A month later, I got four job offers.

Work stressed me out, and it felt like no one really understood. Then one day, a friend asked if I was free. We went out to watch my club play and had drinks. We talked about my job and his. It was the kind of relief I didn’t even know I needed.

In October, I spent a week with my two best friends. Not long after, I got sick with a stomach ulcer. One friend rushed me to the hospital and stayed with me the whole day. Another followed me home when things got worse. And when I was finally alone, the thought of how much they care kept me going.

In November, I lost a job again. This time, it felt worse. I thought I wasn’t good enough. I cried, and when a friend called, I told him I couldn’t talk because I didn’t want my roommates to hear me crying. Minutes later, he was at my gate. I went down, and he just let me cry on his shirt. That night ended at Vault Social House, and it didn’t feel so bad anymore.

Loneliness hits me hardest at night. I try to sleep it off, but I made a friend who calls me most nights. Sometimes, we talk until 4 a.m., and those calls have been a kind of peace I didn’t know I needed.

When my cousin got married, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to tell my friends – it felt like too much. But they showed up, spent their money, and I eve had a table just for me and my friends.

Days at home can drag, but there’s a friend whose presence lights me up. We sit and talk for hours about anything and everything, and somehow, all my worries fade away.

On the last day of my final exams, I spotted a friend holding a cake. It took everything in me not to cry. I didn’t expect it, or her, but there she was, and her love for me was so clear.

I joked a lot about finding romantic love this year, but deep down, I know no romantic love I’ve had comes close to the love my friends have shown me. Now, I’m sure no romantic love ever will. I thought I knew what love was last year, but I didn’t.

I love you, Ire.

I love you, Peculiar.

I love you, Precious.

I love you, Ore.

I love you, Eniola.

I love you, Ayo.

I love you, Bolu.

I love you, Stephen.

I love you, Abioye.

I love you, Dominic.

I love you, Samuel.

I love you, Daniel.

I love you, Iqmat.

E dun ni.