I remember opening my eyes that early morning to the noise of the TV and cold in my body. I had slept that night forgetting to switch off the TV and AC. It wasn't as if I was even watching it or anything but the silence in my room was so deafening that I just needed something to drown the silence. At least a proof to my neighbors that I was still alive. I got up and turned them off, my eyes still weak and my brain not fully awake to my surroundings. But that didn't stop me from hearing the almost silent hum of my fridge from the corner.
I went back to bed but this time something else stuck in my mind. I smiled and stared from the soft beam of sunlight pushing through the curtains to admire my room and my little win.
It wasn't as comfortable as I wanted but I can remember how I had dreamt about this exact kind of peaceful nights and mornings.
Back then in school, the nights were chaotic and the mornings came with painful bodies. Days when I slept in rooms with leaky ceilings because that was what we could afford. Sometimes Michael and I would wake up to soaked mattresses and our room smelling of cheap dampness. I remembered that morning how Michael and I would laugh at our situation and promise ourselves that in years to come we would be in a better apartment.
“Just one day bro,” Michael would joke, while I scooped water before it got to our books.
I smiled, remembering that morning we had woken up with hunger and hopped on the last cup of garri remaining in our room, tied in a black bag, eaten by a rat that we'd finally accepted to be our roommate after months of trying to eliminate it. But, the more we tried, the more the rat learnt new manoeuvring skills. In fact, Michael had named it 'Privileged'. According to him, it was a privilege for us to have such a smart rat in our room.
I smiled remembering it. These days our room will be the only room without electricity. Even though the other rooms had light. And no, it wasn't an electrical fault; it was because we couldn't pay our bills.
We were just two guys born without silver spoons. No rich uncle. No connections. But with dreams of going to school and making it big in life. Just two guys working and schooling just to put food on our table and pay our bills. But the peanuts we were paid from these jobs couldn't afford to pay most of our bills. Just two guys encouraging each other through everything.
“No condition is permanent,” Michael would say. It was like his life motto
After graduation, Michael left for Lagos to stay with his cousin. I remained in Uyo. We both kept pushing while still in contact. For the first year, it wasn't easy for us. We took up little jobs while still applying for jobs with better pay.
I remember Michael jubilating when he got this little job as an errand boy in a logistics company. It was big but he was just happy to have his hands busy. Also hopeful that something good was in the way. I don't know how he does it, but he never for one day complained.
I, on the other hand, kept managing my little writing jobs. Keeping body and soul together. But unlike Michael, I always complained to him over the phone.
Days we were broke after school. Days that came with hunger and loneliness. But every time I felt like giving up, Michael was there as a pillar to hold me up.
"We can't live in a leaky roof apartment with rats as flatmates, and after we graduate, we still live in such. We deserve better. Keep pushing." He'd always say that to me.
Miraculously, I got a better part-time remote writing gig and a better job just a few days after Michael got a better job in Lagos. I remember that we talked on the phone for hours, reminiscing on old days and clinging bottles in the air to each other.
Today we could finally rest in our own space without fear of hunger. Comfortable with no leaky roofs or rats as flatmates.
That morning, I picked up my phone and called Michael.
“Remember when we prayed for the little we have now,"
“Oga, $I never buy private jet o..* (I haven't bought a private jet o).” He joked.
I laughed.
He laughed.
We laughed, but we both knew the truth.
"Omo, I'm grateful Sha. I might not have reached the peak of my dreams, but dude, can you believe I can afford to send my mum a little cash without her asking? If I'm not grateful to God, who else would I be grateful to?"
I smiled and didn't say a thing.
"I might still be jumping Danfo to work, and living in a one-room apartment. But I'm just happy that today is better than yesterday." He paused. "More reasons we shouldn't give up. Tomorrow is brighter. I can see it."
"The prophet." I joked.
"Come and pay your offerings later."
"Okay, sir."
"I have to run. I'm almost late to work." He hung up.
I stood there smiling looking around the room again. It wasn’t perfect, just like Michael had said. But it was better than yesterday.