Sorry I’ve only just found the courage to write. I know you understand. You always did.
The last few years have been a blur, so even if I tried to bring you up to speed I couldn’t. Maybe it’s better I just start and see how far I can remember. You know how my memory is.
So, guess what…
There’s a global pandemic! Yup, everywhere. Imagine your country in a pandemic lmao. It’s called the coronavirus. Got transmitted from wild animals in China, spread to Italy where thousands of people died and then boom, everywhere.
Surprisingly, we’re handling it better than you’d expect. Or at least we’re luckier than most. First, there was a lockdown, then a curfew, but it’s been six months now and life is returning to somewhat normal.
So far, the government says 1000 people have died, so it’s not as scary as other places. Europe and America have been hit really bad, but we’ve been largely spared.
We’re supposed to wear a mask in public now, but only about 10 people actually do that. And they just wear it on their chin like a fake beard. Trust your people.
I live in Lagos now btw. I’ve lived here for two years now. I moved not long after you left and I should have written you then, I know.
I tried… but I couldn’t find the words.
It was a Sunday morning and I was in the study reading something on my laptop — I don’t even remember what. Mummy came in, smashed my laptop to the ground and started screaming something about “false idols”.
It was so sad to see her like that. She was all dressed for church, yelling like she was angry at me for something else… for being there, instead of you. I didn’t even get a chance to be angry because she just started bawling right after. I knew I had to leave.
Daddy and I got her cleaned up and I went to church with them.
Yes I went to church…
I left for Lagos the next morning.
I’ve lived here since, in a company apartment. All my friends these days are from work and I’m starting to forget what it used to be like back home. I went back for Christmas, but it’s not the same anymore. I loved seeing everyone again, but I was counting the hours to leave.
Everything changed after you left. The gang has split: I only see Dogara on Instagram, Chalya calls sometimes and Keziah… Keziah is getting married next year! It’s so weird.
You know, this would have be a great time for you to visit me in Lagos. There’s usually a lot of noise from neighbouring churches, but since the pandemic everywhere has gone beautifully silent. My roommate is cool too. (And so hot! You guys may have hit it off. 😉)
Anyway, I have to go. I’ve broken the spell so I hope it gets easier to write you. And if you find someone coming back, please send them a letter for me. You know I love letters.
I love you and we all miss you,
Kyespan.
At the height of the pandemic, I started writing a series of fictional letters from 28-year old Kyespan to his dead sister Mafeng.
This was to be my way of documenting the collective experience of being 20-something in our Lagos, an aggregated experience of the lives of my friends and the peculiarities of our time.
I gave up after this first letter, but after reading it again recently, I don’t hate it as much. So here goes… I hope you liked it.
