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  • My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Bolu and Zen are polar opposites. While Zen is quiet, calculated and shy, Bolu is very much in your face and not afraid to tell you exactly what he thinks. The two met at university almost ten years ago, and despite their differences, have remained best friends since.

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about navigating their very different personalities, supporting each other through loss and heartbreak, and the health scare Zen was scared would drive Bolu away. 

    Our origin story

    Zen: We met for the first time in university back in 2014 through a mutual friend of ours who’d sold me a shirt.

    Bolu: Pardon? 

    Zen: They sha introduced you as their friend and told me you were in my department at the University of Lagos. That’s how we met. I remember we said “hi”, and then, I started seeing you around the department. 

    First impressions 

    Bolu: The first thing I noticed when we met was how quiet and reserved you are. Myself and my friends at the time were the complete opposite because we could be very loud and all over the place. Seeing how different your personality was from the other people I knew made me curious. It was like a gift I wanted to unwrap. I knew I wanted to be friends with you then, just out of curiosity. 

    Because we were in the same department, we kept running into each other, and over time, we started gisting. The more I got to know you, the more I realised how easy it is to connect with you despite our differences. You were easy to talk to and had no drama or baggage. 

    Zen: I thought you were intimidated by me the first time we met. I didn’t smile a lot back then, so I understand. My first impression was you were timid around me. It’s almost like you weren’t comfortable. 

    Bolu: Hell no, I wasn’t intimidated. See, I tried my best not to scare you with my madness. I really wanted to be your friend, but our personalities are different. I was worried you’d think I was too much and wouldn’t want to be friends if I showed you my true self. I wanted to go into the friendship slowly. 

    I only started being myself around you when I realised you had friends who were almost as wild as me. I also noticed you were more expressive when you were around these guys. You’d dance, give very detailed gist and just express yourself properly around them. That’s when I realised you weren’t just the mysterious quiet guy. It just added a layer of depth to your personality. 

    The moment we became friends

    Zen: We actually became friends because of your parents. I fell ill the year we met, and my parents weren’t in Lagos to take care of me. Even though we weren’t really close yet, you invited me to stay in your house until I got better. I’ve met a lot of parents, but your mum and dad are the best. They didn’t even know me like that, but they took me in and made all my problems their own. 

    I remember your mum dedicated her weekend to making sure I got better. That was when I realised I wanted you to be a permanent part of my life. If your family could be that kind, then you’re a keeper. 

    Bolu: I honestly don’t remember any of this. I’m very open and trusting with my friends, and I remember inviting you to my place, but I can’t remember much about it. 

    Zen: I hope you know I’m the backbone of this friendship? You never remember anything. I’m the only one who keeps records of our experiences together. 

    Bolu: That’s because I’m a doer. I create the experiences; I don’t record them. 

    Zen: Whatever. 

    Bolu: Anyway, for me, our friendship became real after that night in your hostel when you had a seizure. Everyone in your room and nearby gathered when it happened, so I could tell you were really embarrassed. We took a long walk, and you talked about your medical history. You couldn’t even look me in the eye. A part of me felt you thought I wouldn’t want to be friends after that. 

    Watching you be so vulnerable and open only made me like you more. We’d finally crossed that line into having nothing to hide from each other. 

    Zen: Oh my God! I remember that night now. You even cried. LOL. 

    Bolu: Wow. Yes, I cried. I mean, it was all very emotional for me just thinking about all the friendships you might’ve lost in the past because of your health condition, and how that made you feel like I would walk away too. 

    Zen: I’ve lost a lot of friends. I’ve had seizures in front of them, then they started avoiding me because they thought it was contagious. People are ignorant, so they assume what they want. Looking back, I don’t even think I can call those people my friends. 

    Bolu: I could tell you didn’t really believe me when I said it wasn’t a problem. And that made me determined to prove I was a friend who’d stay. We all have things we’re dealing with, and this just made you more of a human being to me

    Zen: I had doubts. But listening to you talk about how it wasn’t a big deal was reassuring. 

    Managing our different personalities

    Zen: You’re the kind of guy who’d dance in public even when he doesn’t know how to dance. For me, I’d be too bothered about what people would say about me. I can only be myself when I’m around people I know. 

    Regarding our differences, we meet each other… maybe not halfway sha because your idea of meeting me halfway is just 30 per cent. LOL. I just let you shine when we’re outside and stay in my shell. 

    Bolu: But you dull my vibe sometimes. I remember one time in school, we’d stepped out to Ikeja City Mall (ICM) in Lagos. I was driving, we looked good, and we were just shoulder-popping in the car. Only for us to get to the mall, and all your energy disappeared. Like, the moment we stepped out and there were people around, you started looking at the floor. It actually brought me down from the high I was on too. 

    All of this your shyness is ironic because you’re the one who knows all the bad, bad things, the latest songs and pop culture gist. You’re also a really good dancer. I always shout like I know stuff, but I don’t know anything. You feed me with information. 

    I, however, like how your calm and reserved nature is a check and balance for me. Sometimes, I need to tone it down, and observing you helps me reflect on it. These days, I behave like you sometimes, sitting in a corner, watching and moving more strategically. 

    Zen: I don’t think you’re ever too loud. I live through you. Seeing you express yourself makes me happy because I want to do it, but I can’t because I’m too worried about what people think. You don’t give a fuck about anything, but I give a million fucks. 

    Coming through for one another 

    Zen: You always come through for me, but one moment that sticks out for me was how you showed up after I lost my brother in 2017. I’d told you about it and expected you to come maybe later, but first thing in the next morning, you were in my house with your mum. It’s not like I was running away or my house was going to disappear, so you could’ve come at any time. But the way you made it an urgent thing is a gesture that’s stayed with me. Plus, it was the first time our mums met and formed their own friendship. 

    Bolu: When your brother died, I already saw you as my brother. I wanted to be there for you and remind you that even though you lost a brother, I’m still here for you. My mum understood how painful it must’ve been for your mum to lose a child, so we decided to show up super early to remind you both that we share in your pain and love you. 

    You also come through for me when it comes to relationship issues. You always warn me about them, but I still pursue those relationships. And when they fail, you’re there to support me. You’re the person I can always count on and talk to. 

    Zen: LOL. Even when I advise you against these relationships, I’m lowkey rooting for you and hoping they work out. It’s not like I’m a hater just waiting for your relationships to fail. What I think about when these issues start happening is how I can be there for you. I try not to go into “I told you so” mode because if I constantly did that, we’d both get offended and have issues.  

    What holds this friendship together

    Bolu: Our family values and principles. We both grew up in families that prioritise honesty and love, so we don’t do hanky panky or anything like that. We respect each other and bring these values to our friendship. 

    Zen: I agree with what you said. But for me, what makes our friendship different is your sensitivity. You were the first man I met who wasn’t afraid to connect with his emotions. I don’t have to be strong or ooze masculinity to be around you. I just have to be myself. You’re not afraid to cry if you feel like it. You express yourself, no matter what. 

    It wasn’t like I was super into being masculine or anything like that, but you helped me understand there’s nothing wrong with being a sensitive man. Who you are and how you’ve influenced me is what makes our friendship work. I can talk to you about any and everything. 

    I want you to know 

    Zen: First off, I’m grateful to your mum for raising you to be a sensitive man. She deserves all the flowers. 

    I’m grateful you’re in my life. I’m thankful you’ve been there for my losses as well. Even when you didn’t know what to say, you stuck by my side and made your presence known. I’m grateful that you’ve intentionally included yourself in my family. I love you so much, and I don’t take your friendship for granted. Like your mum says, we’re more than friends at this point; we’re brothers. 

    Bolu: Now, you’re going to make me cry. 

    Zen: Of course! 

    Bolu: I’m so grateful to know you and happy you’re who you are. I can’t really put words together, but thanks for being you and being a part of my life. Thank you for opening your heart and space to me. I love that we’re family, and my cousins call you “our Igbo cousin”, LOL. You make me see things differently, and I’m grateful you’re my friend. 

    Do you have an interesting bro story you’d like to share? Fill this form and we’ll get back to you.

  • My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.


    A random tweet and mutual love for photography brought Jerrie and Kunle together five years ago. Even though Jerrie hired Kunle as his photography assistant, the two have become best friends who aren’t scared to make fun of each other at the slightest chance. 

    This week on My Bro, they talk about the best and worst parts of working together, their crazy adventures with the Nigerian police and knowing when to stand up for one another. 

    Our origin story

    Kunle: We met for the first time in 2017. You tweeted something about needing an assistant for a photoshoot you were doing, and I sent you a DM that I was interested in the gig. We weren’t even following each other at the time, but you saw my DM, sent me the address, and I showed up the next day. 

    Jerrie: 2017 was so long ago that I can’t even remember this. Was it the Femi Kuti shoot? 

    Kunle: It was the one with the cast of “The Wedding Party”. 

    Jerrie: Oh, yeah. I remember now. I used to tweet about needing an assistant a lot back then. It’s not like I couldn’t do the photoshoot on my own. I just felt it’d be great to bring someone new on board. I got a lot of DMs that day, but yours was the first, and I did a “First come, first serve” thing. 

    First Impressions

    Jerrie: You were so quiet and treated me like an egbon, but it’s been five years, and you’re not quiet again. You came, greeted me “good morning” and all of that. I was uncomfortable, but I understood it was your first time meeting me. We’re all guys, whether or not I’m older. 

    Kunle: It’s not my fault. I thought you were like 35. LOL.

    Jerrie: Wow. That’s why you were very egbon-ish? 

    Kunle: I saw you as someone very serious with his work, so I wanted to keep things professional. It was a nice experience for me, though. You were very patient in explaining every step of the process. 

    Jerrie: Omo, I didn’t want to make you feel left out. I also noticed you were enthusiastic about the work, so I decided to call you back for the next shoot I had. If you had said “no” to the next one, I wouldn’t have called you again. I kept calling you, and you kept coming for the shoots, so it became a thing. 

    Kunle: I only came back because you looked like you knew what you were doing. LOL. 

    Bonding outside photography

    Jerrie: Football definitely brought us closer. 

    It wasn’t hard for us to bond outside work because we always saw each other. We couldn’t talk about shoots all the time, so we started talking about FIFA, food, football matches, etc. You also started crashing at my place after long shoots. We had our work relationship, but we were slowly building another relationship on the side. 

    By the way, I can’t believe you left Chelsea for Arsenal. 

    Kunle: Abeg, abeg, abeg. 

    Jerrie: Who goes from winning to losing, on purpose? 

    I also followed you on Twitter and saw your true personality through all the rubbish you tweet. That’s when I realised you’d been forming for me. It took a while, but your real funny personality started showing as we got closer. 

    Kunle: Gisting and having mutuals on Twitter made us close. I didn’t care that you were seeing my tweets. It wasn’t like I was under employment, so you couldn’t sack me. 

    Photography adventures together

    Jerrie: We’ve had so many crazy photography experiences together. 

    There was the time I forgot one of my lights when I was supposed to shoot Femi Kuti at the Shrine. My house was far away, so I couldn’t go back for them. I had to improvise and act like I knew what I was doing, but I was so nervous. The images turned out okay. Kunle, did you know about it at the time? 

    Kunle: I didn’t know o. But there was another shoot we had where we forgot to take our light trigger. 

    Jerrie: Yes, the Banana Island shoot. LOL. This just reminded me of that annoying thing you did there. I was on my own, harmonising with the gospel song playing during the shoot, when someone asked if I’d been in a choir. I’ve never been in a choir before; I just know how to sing pretty well. But before I could respond, you were like, “Yes, Jerrie used to be in the choir.” 

    The way you said it was so convincing I started thinking maybe I was actually in the choir. I couldn’t even defend myself. 

    Kunle: LOL. I actually don’t know when I do these things. It just comes to me naturally. I choose violence, always. 

    Hardest and best part of working together 

    Kunle: I don’t have anything to say about the hard part of working with you, but for the good part, I enjoy how you break down your process every time. You’re always ready to answer, no matter how many times I disturb you with questions when we’re working. 

    I also like that we’ve drawn the line when it comes to work and play. When we’re working, we’re 100% focused on doing just that. But when we want to mess around, we also know how to have fun. 

    Jerrie: The most challenging part of working with you is your music selection. You only play the songs you like when you get the aux cord. It’s not your business whether myself or the client like the song. That’s how you made me know all the songs on Asake’s album. I even have to get the client to speak up just so you can change the music. 

    The best part of working with you is you’re reliable. I can hit you up today for a shoot tomorrow, and you’ll do all you can to show up. I can tell you’re disappointed when you can’t make it. I like that reliability. 

    Coming through for one another

    Jerrie: I haven’t really spoken about it before, but you stood by my side during a challenging period for me last year [2021]. I’d been accused of assault during a photoshoot, and I wasn’t even on social media when the story went viral. Luckily for me, you and about nine other people were on that set and could explain what really happened. You were there even before I could address it (I had to seek legal advice). You could’ve easily distanced yourself despite knowing the truth, but you didn’t. 

    It meant a lot to me. 

    Kunle: I was with you when it first came out, and I saw how you broke down because of it. I was also present at the shoot, so it didn’t make sense to just ignore it on social media. 

    You also came through for me the year before, in 2020. I was robbed, and they took a lot from me. I’d left your house late because we were playing FIFA, and even though I kept beating you, you convinced me to do a replay. That’s how I went home and got robbed. LOL. 

    But I remember you rallied our mutuals to donate stuff and help me find my feet again. 

    Jerrie: Guy, it was the little I could do. We couldn’t get you everything you lost, but we could help you move forward no matter how small the step was. 

    We wouldn’t be friends without photography 

    Jerrie: I honestly doubt we’d be this close or even friends if we didn’t have this shared love for photography. 

    Kunle: Yes. It would’ve been surface-level if we’d just met through other people. We have mutuals, but it would’ve been a “Hey” or “How far?” only situation. 

    Kunle and Jerrie vs the Nigerian Police 

    Jerrie: Even though it wasn’t funny then, one of the funniest stories I have of our experience together was when we escaped the police. I was driving that night, but I’d forgotten my licence at home, and you’d been drinking. We ended up at a police checkpoint, but before they could see us properly, I jumped to the back seat, wore my glasses and made you sit in the driver’s seat. They saw us from afar and let us go because they thought it was an Uber ride. 

    I can laugh about it now, but I was scared. You know I’m terrified of the Nigerian Police, especially after #EndSARS. 

    Kunle: LOL. My story is literally about your fear of the police. 

    After another night out, we’d decided to drop our friends off at home when officers from the Force Criminal Investigation and Intelligence Department (FCID) of the Nigerian Police stopped us. You were driving again, and I was in the front seat. I was so shocked because you were hiding from them and while they were making noise and trying to take the car from us. I was thinking, “Guy, you’re the oldest here— 

    Jerrie: You’re mad. 

    Kunle: But you were the oldest and tallest in the car. Why were you moving like that? It was myself and the people we were giving a lift that kept saying no to their harassment. You were hiding in one corner. You were so scared. LOL. 

    Jerrie: Omo, for real, I won’t even lie; I was very scared. They were saying they’d shoot us. Abeg, I don’t like that kind of wahala. Thankfully, the people we wanted to drop off had connections, so they called some people and the FCID guys let us go. I know you’ll never let me live this down. 

    If I could change something about our friendship

    Jerrie: I wouldn’t change anything. When I’m friends with someone, I believe I’m experiencing them, their personality and everything in totality. No need to change anything because I accept you as you are. We’ve found our balance between work and friendship, so it’s all good. 

    Kunle: Change? Omo, I don’t know anything about that. Things are good the way they are right now. 

    I want you to know

    Jerrie: I appreciate how you show up for work and your friends. I believe people’s time should be valued, so I appreciate it when people in my life sacrifice their time to do things either with or for me. I don’t take it for granted at all. I’m also appreciative of the energy you bring to our friendship.

    Kunle: I like that you don’t have wahala. I don’t have wahala, so I avoid stress and drama. I also like that you have my back no matter what. If you hear something about me, I know you’ll support me. That’s very important to me. 

    Do you have an interesting bro story you’d like to share? Fill this form and we’ll get back to you.

  • My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Okiki and Tobi first became best friends 21 years ago, but didn’t see each other for 13 years. In this episode of My Bro, they talk about their childhood friendship, why they chose not to stay in contact after life separated them, and the interesting family event that  finally brought them back together. 

    Our origin story

    Okiki: We had no choice but to be friends. We were about six or seven when we met, and our friendship started while I was living with my grandparents, and your parents dropped you off at their place when they had a work or church event to attend. 

    Even though we went to different schools, we bonded quickly because we were the same age and didn’t really have other kids to play with. You were the only friend I was allowed to visit. 

    Tobi: And your grandparents were the only people on our street my parents trusted enough to allow us stay with after school. But, omo, with the way Nigeria is going, I doubt anyone is allowing their neighbour’s children to stay with them and eat free food. LOL. 

    Man, you were so small and loud when we were younger. It was as if your gragra was to make up for the fact that you weren’t tall. Your playfulness brought me out of my shell. I remember you trying to toast fine girls on the street and add them to our friend group when we were teenagers.

    Okiki: Please, let’s be focused here. You and who were toasting girls at that age? It’s a bro something; don’t bring girls into it. LOL. 

    First impressions

    Okiki: I knew you were an ajebutter from the start. You had this rich kid vibe, and I was also physically intimidated because I have a small stature and you’re big. But my grandparents mentioned we were the same age, so I wanted to hang out with you. Last last, me too, I was an upcoming ajebo. 

    Tobi: Stop lying. We just had trappings of wealth because my dad was a manager, and they gave him a driver. 

    Okiki: Na only rich people dey talk, “trappings of wealth”. 

    Tobi: Okiki, abeg o! Anyway, the first thing I noticed about you was how loud, no, bold you were. Even now, as small as you are, there’s no one you can’t talk to. And I just used to wonder where you got your liver from. Remember Maria on our street? That girl was the finest, and you were talking to her. 

    Another thing I noticed is how you’re friends with everyone. Overall best in friendship. I also noticed how smart you are. Someone would think it’s rubbish that’ll come out of your mouth based on your loudness, but you have sense. I’ll give you that. 

    I knew we were close when

    Tobi: I can’t really remember what I did, but there was a time when we were younger that I did something bad and lied with your name. When she came to confirm, you said yes. I didn’t even tell you beforehand. 

    That’s when I was like, “This is my guy.” My other friends felt like I ghosted them, but omo, it is what it is. 

    Okiki: You were the first friend I ever had who wasn’t my sister or anyone from my family. I knew the friendship was real when I’d be in school, and all I could think about was how we’d play once I got home or on public holidays when your parents dropped you off at our house. I felt our friendship more when I went to boarding school, and we started growing apart. Every time teachers told us to write a letter to our best friend, your name was the only one that’d come to my mind. 

    Drifting apart

    Okiki: I noticed we were drifting apart when I had to leave Lagos for Ogun state to start secondary school. I was just 10 years old, but I could tell things were starting to change. I also noticed we didn’t hang out often when I came home for holidays because we weren’t in primary school anymore, so your parents didn’t need to drop you and your brother off with my grandparents while they were at work. 

    The pressure of secondary school also added to the strain because we became busy trying to pass Integrated Science etc. We still saw each other, but it wasn’t like before. It continued until I left Lagos in 2009, after secondary school, to go and live with my mum in Abuja.  

    Tobi: I was very angry when you moved to Abuja. Just talking about it reminds me that you left without saying goodbye or anything. I felt like I’d been left behind in the trenches, even though it was just Abuja you moved to. I was like those people who had people japa on them without their knowledge. I felt some resentment. 

    I know my brother and I asked my parents, but they didn’t explain properly. It also hurt some more because you were the glue that held our friend group on that street together. Once you left, everyone just started drifting apart. 

    My parents were extra cautious of me having new friends. They knew you and your family, so it was easy. They didn’t trust any of my friends after you. But we move sha. 

    Okiki: I was whisked away. It wasn’t my fault. 

    Tobi: Now that I’m older, I understand you didn’t have a say. But back then, I was angry. I asked your grandparents about you, and they always told me you were okay. 

    Okiki: I asked about you too. I felt we’d drifted apart so much I didn’t bother asking for your number. I thought we wouldn’t be as close as before. My grandparents always said you were fine, so I left it like that. 

    The crazy gist that made us reconnect 

    Okiki: Our first reconnection was when we became friends on Facebook in 2011. We never really said anything to each other outside of liking each other’s pictures. But then I heard your parents had another baby, and it was so strange to me because the gap was like 15 years. 

    Tobi: Can you imagine these people were doing kerewa and embarrassing me. 

    Okiki: The gist was so unbelievable, that I got your number from God knows who and called you immediately, like, “Guy, what’s up?”. I congratulated you, and we just bantered about how shocking it was. 

    Tobi: I had a younger sister who died, so I think my parents were trying to get her back. You weren’t the only one who called me about my new sibling. LOL. Some people still think she’s my daughter and my parents are trying to cover up for me. 

    Okiki: Omo, I had to call o. And I was surprised because our conversation flowed easily, like we never stopped talking. The years of silence didn’t even come up because nobody had time to make fake deep conversations. 

    I remember seeing a picture of you and your new best friend, and I wasn’t even pissed because I had my own guy too. 

    Tobi: Shoutout to Benjamin (Okiki’s other best friend)

    There was no need to figure anything out. We just picked up from where we stopped. You’re like family, so it was a prodigal son situation. 

    Meeting for the first time after 13 years

    Okiki: We met again for the first time after a long time this year [2022]. You told me you were coming to Abuja with your babe, and I helped with your itinerary. I remember how you carried me when we saw each other at the airport. LOL. I’m sure your babe was like, “Is it that deep?” 

    There was no point going back and forth about not reaching out. Not because it wasn’t necessary, but because It just didn’t feel like there was a break, even though we’d been on a long one. 

    Tobi: I like to call you “Best in friendship,” and it’s true. I’d just mentioned my trip to Abuja to you, as per, we’ll see when I’m in town. But you took control of everything and helped us plan a good time. You didn’t have to, but you did. I also got to see your mum, whom I hadn’t seen in ten years. 

    I love how you haven’t changed after all these years. You’re still so supportive, even to my girlfriend, sharing her content and hyping her everywhere. It was super easy for her to like you. 

    Okiki: I tell everyone she’s the best dentist in the world.

    You also made sure I had a good time when I was in Lagos. I think because we’re still reconnecting, we haven’t had an extreme case where you had to come through for me or me for you. But when it happens, I know you’ll be there. By the way, I’ve told you, as long as you marry your present babe, any shoe you want on your wedding day, I’ll buy for you. 

    Tobi: Ayye! Funds papi.

    What makes this friendship different 

    Okiki: You’re the first friend I ever had, which means something to me. We can effortlessly pick up from wherever we left off. Our separation and silence could’ve easily resulted in a rift or bad blood for other people, but we’ve never had that. 

    Tobi: I can’t talk about my childhood without discussing our time together. We’ve evolved separately, but there’s still so much love and mutual respect. I find it hard to call you my friend because it’s not enough. You’re my brother. And this year, I’ve decided to pour into this friendship by being more present in your life now that we’ve reignited our relationship. 

    You’ll definitely see a lot more of me in Abuja. Guy, our friendship has lasted more than some people’s marriages. I can see it being passed on to our children. 

    I want you to know

    Okiki: I appreciate how honest you are with me. And even though you like to say you haven’t come through for me big time, just making time for me while living in that crazy city of Lagos is a big deal to me. 

    I also love how you’ve grown in your career over the years. Guy, we used to drink garri together. Seeing you achieve big things and make an impact at work is inspiring to me. 

    Tobi: I love that this friendship has stood the test of time. They tried to separate us, but like garri, we rise. There’s a rock-solid assurance that, no matter what happens, you’re my guy. 

    Okiki, I love how you’ve maintained your personality and originality. Life can suck out joy and stifle people, but you’ve managed to remain the same bold, happy and audacious person you were when we were growing up. How easy it is for you to make friends and come through for them blows my mind. 

    Thank you for the gift of your friendship. I’m proud of you and look forward to the speech you’ll give at my 80th birthday party. 

    Okiki: I’ll tell your kids their father is a bloody fool. LOL. 

    I appreciate you too, Tobi. 

    Do you have an interesting bro story you’d like to share? Fill this form and we’ll get back to you.

  • My Bro is a weekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Foluso and Gbolahan may have met in a high-pressure environment, but best believe their five-year friendship is pressure-free and smooth AF. If they weren’t bankers, they could be comedians with their comedic timing and constant dragging of one another.

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about bonding over heartbreak, using amebo to hold their long-distance friendship together and why Foluso won’t get to be Gbolahan’s best man at his upcoming wedding. 

    Our origin story

    Gbolahan: We met for the first time at the Access Bank training school in 2017. You were this social butterfly, and whenever something came up in class or they asked for volunteers, you’d stand and rush to the front. I was like, “Oga, abeg, calm down.”

    Anyway, you eventually noticed my friends and I were the real cool kids and started begging to join our clique. 

    Foluso: You’re such a bloody liar! Apart from the start, where you called me a social butterfly, everything else is a lie. Me? Beg to join your clique? You’re not serious. I was the happening boy back then, not you. 

    For some reason, since we were in the same class, we just started talking and clicked. 

    First impressions

    Foluso: The first thing I noticed was your big head. Like, how can someone’s head be like that? You used to feel like this bad boy because you were the only one with an iPhone 8 (or was it even 10) in our class at that time, and everyone liked taking pictures with your phone. 

    Gbolahan: It was an iPhone 8. And even if I was forming bad boy, at least, I wasn’t a womaniser like you. You were always with different girls moving up and down. 

    Foluso: Gbolahan, you? Don’t act like you weren’t a womaniser too. Other people didn’t know because you were very lowkey, but we, your guys, knew this thing.

    Gbolahan: I don’t know what you’re talking about. 

    Foluso: Let me not cast you now that you’re about to become a married man. 

    We became friends when I saw him crying over a babe

    Gbolahan: I feel like the whole process of surviving the training school brought us closer. Omo, the pressure was a lot. We had so much to read and study for, there was no way anyone could’ve made it out of that place without people to laugh and study with. Everyone just needed to find their own person. 

    Foluso: True. But there was something you did for me I don’t remember now that really made us close friends. I was shocked someone I’d known for only a month would be selfless enough to step up like that. Damn, I wish I could remember what it was. Do you? 

    Gbolahan: Awww. I can’t remember. 

    But I feel the turning point was when you cried to me because of a babe. 

    Foluso: Gbolahan, why do you want to disgrace me in public? God o!

    Gbolahan: But it’s good to cry. LOL. 

    Were you in a weird situationship or was it even love? I don’t know. Anyway, I just saw you that day in your white shirt and rolled up sleeves, cleaning your eyes. I think I asked you what happened, and we went to a pepper soup joint, where you gave me the whole gist. At that point, I was like, “If this guy can cry like this in front of me, then we’re bonded for life. Might as well just meet my family.” 

    Foluso: You want this babe to read this thing and know I cried because of her? 

    Gbolahan: My friend, you had plenty babes, abeg. Like three babes can read this and think it was about them. And you’ve cried for babes at least twice in front of me. Once during training school and another time after. 

    I’m going through a lot as your friend. Somebody needs to save me.

    Foluso: LOL. It’s because you’re easy to talk to. Everyone knows you’re emotionally open to people, and it’s easier to be vulnerable in front of someone like that. But in my defence, it was like one tear drop because this babe kissed another guy in front of everybody. It was fucked up because the guy she kissed was in our class. 

    It’s been five years sha. We move!

    Life after training school

    Gbolahan: After training school, I got posted back home to Abuja, and you stayed in Lagos. It was easy for us to keep in touch because we worked in the same organisation and shared the same struggles. If I called my other friends to complain about work, they wouldn’t get it, but I knew it’d be easy to have those conversations with you. 

    Foluso: Three days was the longest time we went without talking to each other. If you didn’t call me, I’d go on Twitter to drag you, or I’ll call and threaten not to be your best man. 

    I just realised we’ve never had a serious fight because you don’t get angry. How can I fight someone who doesn’t get angry? Even your babe complains about it. 

    Gbolahan: I don’t get why people fight. I feel it’s a waste of time because one party could say sorry, and that’s the end, but you’ve spent all this time shouting for nothing. But people have started showing me madness small small, so who knows? We might have our fight soon. 

    He came through for me

    Foluso: You’re my relationship therapist. I always hit you up every time I start having relationship wahala because you’re the one person I can trust to keep it real with me. I think there was a time I had this very low moment in my current relationsh-

    Gbolahan: Ehen, that was the second cry. I was waiting for you to say it by yourself. 

    Foluso: Who asked you? 

    Anyway, I was down bad, and I called you, weeping. I was the one who fucked up, and you didn’t sugarcoat it. But another thing you did was call me every day to ask how I was doing and if I’d eaten. It was like having a temporary babe. It was a rough time, and you were there for me throughout. 

    Gbolahan: I’m the reason you’re still in a relationship because if I leave you now, you’ll start moving mad. 

    This year has been a lot for me, with my dad getting a kidney transplant and my wedding happening in December. The pressure has been getting wessa. But you’ve been a constant in my life, someone I can call when I’m so tired and confused. It’s the little moments for me. Just having you listen when I need you. 

    We’ve been through a lot. You might even witness my first cry soon. 

    Foluso: Abeg, I’ve seen you cry before, even though it was like for one second. It was about your dad’s liver transplant. 

    Gbolahan: It was a kidney transplant. 

    Foluso: Are you sure? I think it was a liver transplant. 

    Gbolahan: On top of my own father again? 

    What holds our friendship together?

    Foluso: You definitely hold this friendship together. I always say I’ll call you back, but you do most of the actual calling. 

    Gbolahan: You always take me for granted. 

    Foluso: Pele. But it’s because I know you’ll always be there for me. It’s crazy that we could have those long three-hour calls. 

    Gbolahan: It’s because we like amebo, which really holds our friendship together. We dey do amebo die! 

    I know everything about everyone you know and tell you everything too. Let’s say I go for a wedding in Lagos. There’s a high chance we’ve done amebo about one or two people there, so it’s easier for me to integrate myself into the group. LOL. Amebo is nice sha. 

    Foluso: It’s seamless for us.

    The big separation 

    Gbolahan: Even though we’ve always lived in different cities, I can’t believe you’re about to japa and leave me in this country. You’ll also miss my wedding. 

    Foluso: But it’s your fault. You were supposed to do it next year when I’d be around. Now, you’ve moved it to December. Guy, I actually cried. 

    Gbolahan: Cry number three?

    Foluso: Fuck off! I was intoxicated and broke down in front of my girlfriend, talking about how I won’t be your best man. LOL.

    Gbolahan: Ehya. The wedding will still be lit without you. 

    This friendship has changed me

    Foluso: You’ve made me calmer and more intentional. I used to do gragra a lot and make rushed decisions, but watching you, I’ve learnt to be patient and calculative. 

    Gbolahan: You’ve changed my life when it comes to women. 

    Foluso: Me? How? 

    Gbolahan: I look at all your mistakes and remind myself not to make them. My number one question is, “What would Foluso do?” then I do the opposite. 

    But seriously, you’ve helped me loosen up. I used to be the guy who sat in a corner at parties, pressing my phone. Omo, now, you can throw me in the middle of people, and I’ll make a couple of friends. 

    I want you to know

    Gbolahan: I admire and cherish you, Foluso. I love how you’ve grown and stopped making stupid decisions. I’m also happy because I know I can never be broke again now that you’ll send me dollars for upkeep. 

    You’ll do great things in life, Foluso, and I can’t wait to see them happen. Know that I love you. 

    Foluso: Awww. First of all, I’m still pissed I won’t get to be your best man because I’ve been dreaming of that day since 2018. But I want you to know I love and appreciate you for being there for me through my highs and lows. Thank you for taking my happiness as your own and being my husband. You’ve been my guy for five years, and I don’t think I could ever replace you. And I don’t want to. 

    Gbolahan: I love you, boo. 

    *Starts singing a randomly made up “I love you” song*

    Do you have an interesting bro story you’d like to share? Fill this form and we’ll get back to you.

  • My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    There’s nothing surprising about two lawyers being friends, but a married guy and a single guy? Now that’s an interesting dynamic. 

    In this episode of My Bro, Chuma and Soma, two men who have been friends for over 10 years, talk about navigating a friendship where one of them is married and the other is not, understanding each other during major arguments and why their relationship is nothing without their shared faith. 

    Where we began

    Chuma: The first time I noticed you was in church, right about when I’d just moved to Abuja in 2011. 

    This guy drove a big car, so he was very noticeable. Our paths didn’t really cross until a mutual friend mentioned you in relation to something I wanted to do at work. I remember you drove to my office, and that was the first time we spoke to each other. 

    Soma: It wasn’t the first time we spoke. LOL. You’ve forgotten the meeting we had at that restaurant where we ended up talking about work, church and life? I think that’s when we actually got to know each other. 

    Chuma: Yes! We even found out we lived close to each other and you invited me to your house, but I kept dodging you. LOL.

    First Impressions 

    Soma: Mr likeable! I used to hear about you from our mutual friends, and it was like you were everybody’s chum-chum friend. You were always so put together, and then when we actually had that restaurant meeting, I realised you were also grounded and had strong convictions. 

    It’s hard to hang out with you and not take something tangible home. 

    Chuma: Soma, don’t lie. You’ve never told me this thing before. 

    Soma: It’s true. There are people you’ll meet and everything goes. But I noticed you were quick to share your likes and dislikes. For example, you’re always prompt. If you say you’re going to be somewhere at a certain time, you go out of your way to make it happen. And that’s the same level of dedication you put into anything you say. 

    Chuma: Like I was on time today and you weren’t? These are the problems in our friendship. 

    Soma: LOL. But I really liked that you were someone who kept to his words. And let’s not forget the gist. You’re my E News. 

    Chuma: The first thing I noticed about you when we started talking was how calm you were. You also dress well, which is important for someone like me who also knows how to dress. People may say these things are superficial, but they’re the qualities I’d notice meeting someone for the first time. 

    Getting to know you, I realised that you’re really intelligent and not just book smart. Even though we don’t always agree on things, your arguments always have some thought-out truth. And finally, just like me, you understand the value of family and friendship.  

    Navigating life with my married friend 

    Chuma: Let me start by saying I don’t like saying I’m single; I prefer to use unmarried. People are always dragging that word “single” like it’s a bad thing, which makes me cringe. 

    Soma: Haba.

    Chuma: I’m not lying. Anyway, back to our friendship. You came to my house first, and I avoided coming to see you every time you invited me over. I did all of that because, mehn, you’re married with kids, and I didn’t know the dynamic in your house. You know how it is when single guys are friends with married men. I didn’t want a situation where if you did anything wrong, your wife would be like, “Is it from that your Chukwuma friend you’re learning this thing?” I wanted to stay in my lane. 

    Over time, I realised you were persistent about this visit, and I remember you mentioning that your wife wanted to meet me. I found that interesting. This meant that beyond our interactions, you cared about our friendship enough to talk to your wife about it, and in turn, she was nice enough to invite me over. 

    Maybe it’s how I view family, but it’d take a lot for me to let someone into my house because it’s my personal space. We’d only known each other for a year, but you invited me to meet your wife and hang out with your children. Now I have a permanent seat at your dining table. LOL. 

    Soma: Hope you know meeting my wife was the final test? 

    Chuma: Test again? 

    Soma: Women can easily make an accurate judgement of someone’s character, so meeting my wife was a test you had to pass. I feel women are the ones who complain most times when friendships like ours happen, so it was important that both of you clicked. She could see that you were a sincere friend, so it wasn’t a problem for her. 

    I know wisdom is not a conventional word, but I use it for you a lot. You know how to act around the guys when we’re out having a good time, and with the family, you’re always playing with my kids and gisting with y wife. These days, both of you even make plans and I don’t find out about it until later. You guys are buddies. And now my kids are always asking of Uncle Chuma. 

    Chuma: Of course.

    Soma: I also feel like society places these structures where nothing gets to flow freely. How can you say that I shouldn’t be friends with a single guy because I’m married? It doesn’t make sense to me, and I don’t like giving in to societal pressures. 

    Chuma: I’ve had friends who got married and we stopped hanging out like before. It doesn’t mean they’re not my friends, but that’s because their marriage changed our friendship dynamic. 

    I’m cautious about married people because there’s this famous saying, “You’re probably gist in all your married friends’ lives.” I didn’t want that. But the more I got to know you, the more we formed this mutual respect where I could trust you to take things concerning me seriously. And that’s how I opened up to this friendship. 

    Plus, your wife and your kids give me a perfect picture of what a family can look like. It doesn’t mean that I’m under pressure to get married o. LOL. 

    No matter how hard we argue, we must talk the next day

    Chuma: We’re both lawyers, so it’s not hard to imagine how chaotic our arguments are because we both speak with a level of certainty. One thing I like to say is: “Perpetual peace is bad.” You have to rock your relationship once in a while to strengthen it. As long as no one is disrespecting the other person sha. 

    There are times when both of us have argued to the point that your wife walked out so we could fully get into our thing. I remember how we argued a lot leading to the 2019 elections because we supported different candidates. I didn’t understand it at all. It’s like the way I like Asake. I expect my friends to also like him, so when a friend doesn’t, it’s confusing for me. LOL. 

    Soma: I remember it used to get so heated during that period. I think it’s because we’re from different generations thats why your stand tends to differ from mine, even though I’m not that older than you. LOL. Even when we’re on different sides, we try to see from each other’s perspectives. I’m always quick to say you’re right when it turns out that way. 

    Chuma: And I was right during the elections. LOL.

    I like that we can always resolve our differences. There’s no day we’ve had an argument, no matter how heated, that we didn’t talk the next day. The core of our friendship is not threatened by our conflict. If it’s awful, I’ll share how I feel, and you do the same. We apologise when we need to. 

    We’re never getting to a point where we’ll let everything go because of a disagreement. Too many people are invested in our relationship at this stage, from my mother to your wife. It has extended beyond both of us, and there’s too much at stake. 

    He came through for me

    Chuma: There’s a reason I call you my come-through commissioner. A recent event that comes to mind was when I lost a close family member early this year [2022], and you followed me all the way to my village. 

    My family was shocked when I told them you were coming because my village is in a distant place in the east. It wasn’t the most comfortable situation or place, but you managed and didn’t put me under pressure to take care of you while I was mourning. Showing up like that meant a lot to me. 

    Soma: It wasn’t anything for me. I see you as my family, so coming with you for the funeral was the least I could do. You’re always there for me too. I love how thoughtful and deliberate you are with your friends. Your concern for me extends to my family because I remember when a family member was ill, and you regularly called to check up on them. 

    Not every friend shares the love and respect they show you with your family members. 

    What holds our friendship together 

    Soma: I believe God created friendship so we could have certain people that play important roles in our lives. With you, I have someone who prays with me and for me, someone I can talk to and someone I can share ideas with. It’s important to me that we share the same faith and belief. You also always have the right words to inspire me. 

    Chuma: People in my office know the workaholic side of me and people on social media see a side of me that’s laid back but still serious. With you, I have that friend I can be my real self around — all the different parts of me. I can also talk to you about anything without feeling uncomfortable. 

    I also feel our shared values and faith play an important role in our friendship. I don’t think we would have a non-transactional relationship without God. He teaches us how to love, how to be giving and how to be kind. These are the core pillars of a solid friendship. We’ve grown in faith individually, influencing how we treat each other with mutual respect. 

    I want you to know

    Soma: I love that you always tell me the truth. You don’t try to sugarcoat things or twist the situation to make me feel good; you just say something like it is, and I appreciate it. Outside of my wife, I don’t think anyone else is this honest and sincere with me. 

    Secondly, I’m grateful you’ve taught me how to face conflicts head-on because my reflex move was always to avoid confrontation. LOL. Now it’s easier to be open when I feel offended. 

    You’ve also taught me how to be intentional when it comes to my friendships. What do they like? How do they want to be treated? And things like that. I appreciate this too.

    Chuma: Ah! I just learnt a couple of weeks ago that being brutally honest in friendships is not the best idea, so I’m trying to cut back on that. I’m always going to be honest, but the brutal part is going away. LOL. 

    I want you to know you’re special to me, and I’m thankful you can accommodate my different sides. You understand me on the days when I’m overly boisterous and on the when I just avoid everyone. 

    I also love how you always present my best version to the world. I never doubt you have my back, which means a lot to me. Thank you so much, Soma. 

    Do you have an interesting bro story you’d like to share? Fill this form and we’ll get back to you.

  • My Bro is a weekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    What I noticed less than 10 minutes into my conversation with Boyett and Alpha are the subtle differences between them. Boyett says it as it is, while Alpha is more likely to accompany his sentences with a joke. But in the end, both of them are almost always on the same page — except for the part about who almost crippled Boyett in secondary school. 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about their secondary school love triangles, successful creative partnership and maintaining friendship in adulthood.

    Let’s take a trip down memory lane

    Alpha: I met you on my first day of secondary school in 2006. My family had just moved from Lagos to Abuja in the middle of the school year, so finding a new school was hard. But I remember walking into class late that day and seeing you so tiny and fair, sitting in the front of the class. I immediately recognised you from the school’s prospectus. 

    Even though I was new, you asked me if I wanted to play football with you that same day. 

    Boyett: It wasn’t football. My criteria for making friends at the time were video games. 

    Alpha: I can’t forget. It must’ve been football. I’m so sure, Boyett. 

    Boyett: My memory of this story is the same, minus the football part, and I’m sticking by it. 

    First Impressions

    Alpha: I thought you were smart in class that day. I also thought you’d be full of yourself because you were on the damn school prospectus, but you were just aloof. 

    Boyett: I’ve heard worse. LOL. My teacher in primary four described me as nonchalant.

    Meeting you, my impression was, “Why is this guy so angry?” You were in JSS 1; you didn’t have problems in life yet. Relax, it’s enough. 

    Alpha: That’s so true, mehn. I was always boning, up until SS 1 when I finally loosened up. It took me a while to adjust to the fact that we’d moved from Lagos. I was giving off the brooding rock-loving guy from those teen movies. 

    Boyett: I didn’t care sha. I still spoke to you because I knew last last, you couldn’t beat me. 

    Finding out our families are connected

    Alpha: Moving to a new school in the middle of a school year was hard for me because all the other students already knew each other. Talking and hanging out with you made it easier. We both had the same interests in football, consoles and rap music. But the moment I knew it was real for us was still in JSS 1 when our mothers met each other and lost it. 

    Boyett: Guy, I remember that day. I think it was what solidified our friendship for me too. 

    Alpha: It was during visiting day. Apparently, our mums had known each other in university, so it was like a mini-reunion for both of them. At some point, they just started shouting, and I kept looking at you like, “Guy, what’s going on?” 

    That’s when I knew it was meant to be for us. 

    Boyett: That history sealed it, but for me, you were always my guy. During football, I’d just send the ball your way, and you’d run for me. I didn’t have to stress myself. 

    Alpha: WTF? This guy. LOL. 

    Our surprising connection

    Boyett: One of the most random shits that happened was when you told me at some random party that you were trying your hands at writing scripts. It was so weird because I was doing the same thing. I’d known you for a while, but we’d never spoken about writing films. So, again, meant to be. 

    Alpha: Yeah, I remember just asking you if you’d like to read through a script I’d written, and it became this thing of, “You secretly write scripts too?”

    We’ve been working on scripts for a while, and I think we have our rhythm now. It may be hard for friends to collaborate, but there are no egos. I trust you enough to know you not liking my idea isn’t to make me look or feel bad. It’s more of what’s best for the story at that moment. 

    Boyett: Our first project was a mix of How I Met Your Mother and Atlanta. Two very different shows. LOL. And that’s reflective of how we’re able to create something together despite having different visions and tones in our individual work. Our different perspectives actually make our work better. If I send something to you, and you don’t like it, you do what you can to make it better. 

    I don’t think we’ve ever had issues.

    Alpha: Ermmm… are you sure? 

    Girl trouble

    Alpha: The one time I remember being pissed and arguing with you was when you pulled an asshole move in JSS 3. Someone had given me a book, and because you were being sly, you tried to get them to collect it from me and give it to you. But our fight didn’t last long sha. 

    Boyett: I was an asshole a lot, so I don’t remember this story. 

    But one thing that could’ve caused fights for us, but didn’t, was girls. For some reason, most of the girls you liked, liked me instead. I don’t know if it’s because I was a nerd who didn’t have any interest in them—

    Alpha: Nah, mehn. You were cute. Shut up!

    Boyett: We bless God. But really, man, I respect you for not letting it cause friction between us. Another guy would’ve made it into some type of beef, but you were just chill about it. 

    It would’ve upset me if you’d gotten angry because it wasn’t as if I was doing it intentionally. I didn’t even like the girls. 

    Alpha: The first time it happened was in JSS 3, and people expected me to be angry, but the girl made her choice. You even tried to be my wingman and hook me up, but they didn’t care. 

    There was nothing I could do about it. But we have different tastes, so we never like the same person. 

    Boyett: That’s because you’re a bumbum man and I’d rather have a girl with a pretty face. 

    You came through for me

    Boyett: You were there for me during one of the most challenging moments of my life, even though it was your fault I was there in the first place. We were playing football one night in secondary school, and you hit my knee. That accident caused a chain reaction that ended with me in clutches for a term. 

    Navigating boarding school with clutches was hard. I couldn’t do things I love, like playing football. The situation got so bad I couldn’t feed myself or write in class because using the clutches every time cut off blood supply to my hands. 

    You really stepped up during this period when I felt other friends pull away. You helped me carry my bag and kept me company when I couldn’t do regular activities with the other kids. It was also tough for me psychologically, and I don’t think I’d have survived it without you and my other friend, Adaora. 

    Alpha: I mean, what would I have done? I did my best to make the period easier for you whichever way I could. If they were like, “Boyett can’t do this,” that automatically meant I’d have to sit it out too because I didn’t want you to be alone. It was a “we” thing for me. 

    But, guy, I wasn’t the one that caused it o! 

    Boyett: I’m 80% sure it was you, and 20% think it’s some big ass Benin guy. 

    Alpha: Okay, maybe I contributed to it small. LOL. 

    I mean, you’ve come through for me in different ways. A major moment would be after I quit my job in 2019 and was floating around. I didn’t have money or anything for about six months, but you helped me get another job that got me back on my feet. Even this year, I got another job through you. You constantly recommend me for something to other people. 

    Maintaining friendships as adults in these Buhari times 

    Boyett: I’ve made my house a safe space for you, so whenever you’re stressed, you can come over, lose at FIFA, drink some and just relax. 

    Alpha: Lose? But, yeah, life gets in the way a lot. It’s harder to make time to see each other as we’ve gotten older, but we try. We hung out today, and this took about a week of scheduling. If we can’t see physically, we always chat. I feel like I’m talking with you on every app in the world, from Whatsapp to Snapchat. Even though it takes you forever to respond to your messages. 

    The longest period we didn’t talk was when I was phoneless at Covenant University from 2011 to 2014. But when I got back home, I always pinged you on my BlackBerry. LOL. 

    What would you change about your friendship? 

    Alpha: Mehn, I wish this friendship was abroad. I wish we were just doing our thing, but sha, not in Nigeria. 

    Boyett: That’s valid. LOL. We’ve been talking about getting a place, so I wish we had ₦2.5M for that sexy apartment we saw. Deep sigh. 

    I want you to know

    Boyett: I appreciate you for being there for me when I was on clutches back in school. That was truly the hardest period of my life. I also appreciate that you never let women affect our friendship because I was really worried. The final thing is something I wish you’d done. There was this babe I had a crush on in secondary school and you knew about it. I wish you had pushed me to make a move on her. Maybe now, we’d have been married. 

    Alpha: LOL. I didn’t know it was that serious. 

    I see you as my brother, not just my friend. I remember when I was in Covenant and couldn’t talk to you. I just kept thinking, “Mehn, what if this guy just moves on and forgets about me?” I’d have anxiety messaging you when I came back, but you were always there every time, like nothing had changed. 

    Knowing that I don’t have to worry about this friendship is comforting. You’re always there for me, and it’s a pleasure. 

    Boyett: Aww. I’m pumping my fist like that guy from The Breakfast Club. LOL. 

    Do you have an interesting bro story you’d like to share? Fill this form and we’ll get back to you.

  • My Bro is a weekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Despite the distance and different time zones, Caleb and Mofe have remained best friends for the last eight years. They met ten years ago at a church competition in Nigeria, but life physically pulled them apart when Mofe had to move to the US for school. 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about connecting over shared family values, maintaining a long-distance friendship and the tragic event that made them reunite after eight years. 

    Our origin story

    Mofe: My first recollection of meeting you was at  the Sword Drill competition in 2011. They’d call a bible verse, and the first kid to open to it and read it out won. I was representing my church, and I remember one of the pastors asked us to introduce ourselves and connect with other kids there. That’s how I met you. 

    I came third and qualified for the next round, so the next time I saw you was at the second stage of the competition, when you came to support your friend even though you didn’t qualify. 

    Caleb: Let me correct you there. I was at the second stage because my church also competed in the dance drama category, and we won that competition. 

    Mofe: Boy, no one cares about dance drama. What has that done for anybody? I didn’t like you at the time because a girl I liked from church had a crush on you. 

    After we met at the first competition, she couldn’t stop talking about you. I kept thinking, “What does this guy have that I don’t?” She friend-zoned me for you. 

    But then, we started talking on social media, and I realised you were a cool guy. 

    Caleb: To be honest, I was a little hesitant when you walked up to me during the competition to ask for my contacts. I wasn’t used to being offered friendship in such a direct way, so I was sure you were either pretending or trying to kill me. LOL. 

    Our first hangout outside the church was when we watched a movie at Ozone Cinema that year. We didn’t hang out often, but we gisted a lot about random things like school.

    We connected despite liking different things

    Caleb: I’m a very old soul. 

    Mofe: Sorry, Elder Caleb. 

    Caleb: Stop it! But seriously, making friends as a kid was hard for me. I rarely found other kids who liked the things I liked. I was really into reading books, and most kids just wanted to have fun. You were like that too. You didn’t like books; you liked football. But you were open to just listening to me go on and on about books, even though you didn’t care for them. I liked that you respected what I liked. You also told me about football, even though I didn’t care or know anything about it. 

    I wasn’t trying to be your friend. I just realised you were easy to talk to. 

    Mofe: I liked reading books, but not like you, man. You wrote a whole-ass book in 2016, sir. I mean, the book was kind of bad, but I was really proud of you. 

    Caleb: Wow. So despite our differences, what connected me to you was how you prioritised family, especially your relationship with your brother. I grew up with an older brother I’m very close to. We went to the same school, and he always stood up for me. I tell my brother, “I love you”, and it’s not a big deal. But then, I got to know other guys and saw that what my brother and I had wasn’t the norm. There was this “My G! My G!” performance.

    But you, I could connect with. You’re very open with your younger brother. It’s why I can comfortably tell you, “I love you” today. Just like me, you’ve also experienced a male connection that’s deep and expressive. 

    Mofe: I can be honest with you about how I feel about you or anything else, especially the women in my life. Even though you can’t keep up. 

    As much as we were close as teens, I think we got closer and more intentional about our friendship when I left Nigeria for the US. 

    Maintaining our friendship from different continents 

    Caleb: Let me start by saying I had no idea you were leaving Nigeria. And it’s crazy because you weren’t coming back. It was a permanent move. 

    I didn’t even know if I’d see you again. I wasn’t upset. I was just shocked. 

    Mofe: Yeah, but it all happened so fast, Caleb. You knew I was taking SAT classes, but I didn’t want to tell anyone I was applying because I wasn’t sure it’d happen. I didn’t want to disappoint myself, you or anyone else. I also remember you weren’t in town at the time and didn’t have an accessible phone. 

    But you have to admit the distance brought us closer. 

    Caleb: I can’t deny that you showed up for our friendship. I never felt like I was removed from your life because you moved away. You always updated me on what was going on, and I did the same. 

    There was a mass failure the year I wrote WAEC, so I had to rewrite it the next year. It wasn’t my fault, but I still felt like a failure. I spoke to you about it even though you weren’t in Nigeria, and you encouraged me till I got over that feeling. You were interested in everything in my life, no matter how mundane it sounded. At some point, talking to you became a habit. 

    During the period you were away, I increasingly realised how much I enjoyed talking and sharing my life events with you. A lot of people talk about being intentional with their friendships, but I don’t think we had the language for it back then. It was just an unspoken decision. 

    Mofe: Thank God for the internet and video calls! 

    Our friendship just made sense. I had new friends in America and others in Nigeria, but you’re the only friend I didn’t outgrow because we always have something to talk about. Before I came to the US and saw how open people are about their feelings regarding friendships, you already showed me with how clear and communicative you were back in Nigeria. Because I had a close relationship with you and my brother, it was easier to build close male friendships here. 

    And maintaining the friendship wasn’t draining me out even though we were in different time zones and had to have our calls either super early in the morning or late at night. 

    You came through for me

    Mofe: I don’t think there’s a standout instance of you coming through for me because you always do it. Then again, my first few years before I properly settled here were rough, trying to get accommodation and adjust to the people. 

    But you made it better because I could easily call you and vent about everything that was happening. You’ve always been a solid friend. 

    Caleb: I would say the same thing, but one moment that stands out for me was how you supported me when I lost my friend of 15 years in 2019. This friend had been hit by a car, and the hospital refused to treat her unless we brought a police report. 

    I spoke to many people during this time because I was in shock for most of it. But of all the people I talked to, you were someone who gave me space to grieve. I find many things people say during periods of grief to be performative, but for some reason, your “I’m sorry” and “It’s going to be okay” felt genuine. 

    We hadn’t dealt with grief as friends before, but you made sure you were present for me. I still think about it today. 

    Mofe: It was a lot of anger and disappointment in the Nigerian system. His friend didn’t have to lose her life because of something so basic as a police report. Her name was Ruth, right? 

    Caleb: Yes. 

    Mofe: It was bullshit to me. I could tell you were hurt, and I remember you wrote an article about it. There’s no textbook way on how to help your friend through grief, so I just handled it the way I could by being a listening ear. Apparently, I didn’t mess it up. 

    Caleb: LOL. You didn’t. This was also the event that made me give up on Nigeria because I know you’d been trying to convince me to move. 

    Mofe: Exactly! You were acting like you were a freedom fighter like Mandela or Nkrumah. It didn’t make sense. In Nigeria, you’re not just fighting your demons, you’re fighting your country because it’s doing what it can to stop you from being great. I wanted you to leave at the slightest opportunity you got. 

    You were already balding at 24, bro. Nigeria wasn’t it for you. 

    Caleb: And I listened. Moving to the US for my master’s this year [2022] allowed us to finally hang out again, even if it was just for three hours. 

    Meeting each other for the first time in eight years. 

    Caleb: I was supposed to fly straight to my school in Utah from Washington DC, but I saw a flight that had a layover in Atlanta, where you live. It was the more expensive option but a no-brainer for me. It was also last minute, so I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it. 

    Mofe: What? I cancelled everything immediately. No way I wouldn’t be there. It’d been so long, and it felt really good seeing you again. I was shocked you’ve remained the same height for the last ten years. 

    We would’ve hung out longer if you weren’t rushing to meet your flight. What happened to upholding the tradition of African time? But I’ve forgiven you for cutting our time short.

    Caleb: Please, I’ve heard horror stories about Atlanta’s airport. I’d already gotten lost there that day. I didn’t want to miss my flight. 

    Mofe: The flight that ended up not leaving at the time they’d announced? Anyway, now you’re here. We’ll see each other more often. I’m coming to Utah soon. 

    How our friendship has evolved with age 

    Mofe: My good looks have been carrying this friendship for the entirety the time we’ve known each other. 

    Caleb: Mofe, you became good-looking like three years ago. I have receipts. 

    Mofe: What? No! I started looking good in 2018 when I started touching money and got a girlfriend. If you met me in 2016 or 2017, please delete that memory because it wasn’t me. 

    Our friendship has matured because we’re constantly bringing our life experiences into it. We understand that we’re in different time zones and have different responsibilities, so we’re not hard on each other when there’s a communication gap. We’ve learnt to adapt and figure out what works for us. 

    Caleb: First of all, we’re no longer teenagers, so we have a tighter grip on life. We’re the same age, even though, technically, I’m older than you by five months. 

    Mofe: That shit doesn’t count!

    Caleb: Don’t make me lose my train of thought. We’re almost always at the same stage. But I’ve seen our friendship grow to become more intentional, reassuring and permanent. You always believe I know what I’m saying, even when I don’t, so talking to you helps me feel more confident because I start to believe in myself the same way you believe in me. 

    I also know I’ll be friends with you for the rest of my life, whether or not I want to. I’m too far into this friendship to escape it now. And honestly, I don’t think there’ll be a day when I don’t want to be your friend. 

    Moving here is also an evolution of our friendship because now we’ll get to see each other more and make up for all the time we missed. 

    I want you to know

    Mofe: I’m glad our paths crossed. Being friends with you has been the most fulfilling part of my life because you’ve been here for the big and little moments. I appreciate you for being the friend you are. You’re a goal-getter. You see what you want, and you go for it. You wanted to come here for your master’s and you worked your ass off until you got a full scholarship from the American government. That’s very impressive, and I know I’m hanging out with greatness. 

    People misunderstand our friendship because of how close we are. I’ve had girls in my life question our relationship. But our friendship means the world to me, and I appreciate it. 

    Caleb: I like hearing you talk about me. You already know I love and appreciate you. I’m proud of you for leaving for the US at 16, and making something for yourself. Never forget that I will always be proud of you no matter what happens. 

    Do you have an interesting bro story you’d like to share? Fill this form and we’ll get back to you.

  • My Bro is a weekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Many things don’t gel well in my book: Garri and milk, trench coats and the Nigerian sun, and running a business with your friend. However, after spending over an hour getting to know directors-turned-friends-turned-business-partners, Dare Olaitan and Kayode Kasum, I may have to rethink my list. 

    These two are responsible for directing the 2021 comedy, Dwindle. And this year [2022], Kayode was a producer on Dare’s Ile Owo, while Dare was Executive Producer on Kayode’s Obara’m. How do they separate their friendship from their work? And most importantly, how do they work together without throwing hands? 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about how they moved from creative partners to friends, avoided fights on set and learnt to support each other without crossing boundaries. 

    Our origin story

    Dare: We met for the first time at the Paris NollywoodWeek Film Festival in 2018. I remember getting to the festival and thinking, “Oh, I’m at another Nollywood thing with old people.” LOL. But then I met you, another young filmmaker, and we just clicked. Honestly, I didn’t care enough to have an impression of you at first. But I saw your film, Oga Bolaji, and that’s when I was like, “This guy has sense.” 

    Kayode: Meeting you was different for me. I’d been making films for a while, but I’d never met someone who tells stories like you do without relying on a “Nollywood” formula. I also really liked how blunt you were about everything. You didn’t try to be political, and that’s rare for our industry. 

    Part of directing is revealing some aspects of yourself through your work. We were both young directors showing our work in a different country, and we didn’t know what to expect. We could comfort and compliment each other in that place of discomfort and weirdness. 

    But we didn’t hang out again when we returned to Nigeria. We just called each other once in a while. I don’t think we hung out or became friends until we made Dwindle.

    The movie that brought us together 

    Dare: We lived a roundabout away from each other, but for some reason, we kept posting our hangouts. Then in 2020, you randomly sent me the Dwindle script to edit in, and before I knew it, you’d convinced me to come on board as aco-director and producer.  

    Most people don’t trust me with conventional Nollywood films, but here you were giving me the opportunity to try something new. We both put our money into the project and spent a lot of time trying to make everything work. 

    When you make a film with someone, you either walk away hating them or they become your family. For me, Dwindle brought us closer and made us friends. 

    Kayode: I always knew you were the right guy for the job. After seeing your films, Ojukokoro and Knockout Blessing, in Paris, I was inspired to make This Lady Called Life. So as soon as Dwindle came, I knew I’d found the right project for us. 

    Making Dwindle was also when I felt like our friendship became rock solid. Guy, we didn’t make that film under the best conditions or with a huge budget, yet we didn’t fight once. Creating something with you, and doing it peacefully the way we did, was all I needed to know you were my guy. 

    Sharing the director’s chair

    Dare: When I signed up for Dwindle, I hadn’t been on a set in about two years, but in that period, you’d built a rep and shot a ton of movies, so catching up was hard for me physically. I was tired, my feet hurt, and I was working with a crew I wasn’t used to. But because you were there, it got easier and became fun. 

    If I was the only director on that set, omo, I’m sure I’d have walked out and told everyone to fuck off at some point. 

    Kayode: LOL. The hardest part of co-directing for me was not being able to do things at my own pace. There were scenes you’d want like 17 takes of and six hours to get it right, and I’d have done it in two hours. There were days when you shot a scene in 30 minutes, and I’d have used the whole day to get it the way I wanted. I didn’t have full control. 

    I was looking forward to experiencing your process and learning from you. It was a challenging shoot, but we both pulled through, and you killed it. I could tell when you were tired, and I’d step in. You also did the same for me. It was about mutual respect for each person’s process and filmmaking style.

    Dare: And trust too! It’s crazy because we work together but haven’t had to sign a contract. I trust you’d do it if you say you’d do something, and vice versa. That trust is vital, especially when we’re out making ambitious plans for the future. If I fuck it up now, what’ll happen when we have to handle those multimillion deals in the future?

    But to be honest, from the start, there was always that fear we might not work well together and shit would fall apart, but we couldn’t let it stop us. I knew I couldn’t achieve my dreams on my own because I was getting burnt out. 

    I needed a partner. We agreed we’d work on more stuff if Dwindle worked out. 

    Supporting each other’s vision

    Kayode: There were times when you had issues with something I did on set, but one thing I like is you always brought it up. I appreciated the honesty. 

    Dare: Yeah, it’s not a thing of ego for me. I just want to understand your process behind things. We never have personal beef, and if there’s ever an issue, we can talk and see things clearly. It’s all in favour of the other person’s vision. 

    Kayode: That’s true! For instance, we had a budget for my new film, Obara’m, but I kept having these big ideas. You called me and said, “Guy, how far this budget?” LOL. I had to explain it to you until we were on the same page. 

    Dare: Me that I saw the script and thought we could run it with ₦20 million, but you were like, “No o!” You did the same thing when I was making Ile Owo, and I wanted a helicopter. You reminded me that renting a helicopter is about ₦2 million per day. 

    It’s never a thing of trying to reduce your vision. It’s just us knowing each other’s capabilities and doing whatever it takes to help make the best version of what we want to create. We sha understand each other. 

    Kayode: And we understand the importance of boundaries too. As a producer of your film, Ile Owo, I didn’t want to make it look like a Kayode Kasum film. I understood it was your film, and all I did was support you in making the best one possible. The same thing happened with Obara’m. We’re supportive, but we still give each other space to shine. 

    I also like that I can trust you to give me your unbiased and unfiltered opinion of my work. 

    Dare: Mehn, not everyone likes that I’m blunt sha. 

    What I appreciate about our friendship 

    Kayode: I can always trust you to tell me exactly how you feel. People sugarcoat a lot in Nollywood. I could be talking to someone for one hour, and the conversation is just them looking for ways to avoid telling me my film is bad. But when it comes to you, you’ll always say it like it is. I need people like you around me. 

    Dare: A lot of people think I’m just rude and mannerless. My bluntness is a big problem to most people, so I’m not always in Nollywood circles. Life is short; if I died tomorrow, I’d like to have said everything I wanted. 

    Kayode: I’m more emotional in my thinking. I rely on you for balance. And you can be so logical sometimes that I have to help you bring it down. 

    Dare: There’s a balance for sure. You help me see things differently. Someone told me recently that I’ve become much nicer because of you. Like, you’re also honest, but you know honesty is not always the best policy so you just choose to be nice instead.

    I’m not perfect, and I appreciate that you can see and understand who I am without trying to force me to be someone completely different. 

    You came through for me

    Kayode: You came through for me by agreeing to make Dwindle with me. I know you weren’t planning on making a film, but you jumped into the pool with me, and we faced it together. 

    Dare: You made me fall in love with filmmaking again, and I’m eternally grateful. I was out of the industry because I was unhappy, but then, you came with Dwindle and dragged me back.

    With you, I found someone who understands the type of films I want to make. People tend to say my films won’t work in the Nigerian market, and no one else would’ve done Ile Owo with me. I don’t think I’d be making films today if you hadn’t hit me up to make Dwindle. 

    I want you to know

    Dare: I’ve told you this a million times, but Kayode, your talent is incredible. Your ability to translate emotion into a film is incredible. We just left the Obara’m premiere, and I knew it’ll make people cry. I don’t think I can make a film that emotional. I don’t know how to do that shit. LOL. 

    I will forever be astounded by that, and I know you’ll only get better. 

    Kayode: Thanks, man. You have a brilliant mind, and I’ve always said I don’t know how your brain works when I look at the characters you create and the stories you want to tell. I also admire how you chase your dreams without complaining. You inspire me. 

    Dare: Thanks, my G. The work must be done. 

    Do you have an interesting bro story you’d like to share? Fill this form and we’ll get back to you.

  • My Bro is a weekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Friendships can be built on varying experiences — shared loss, beer parlour hangs or music careers that almost took off. But for Bamiji and Tomiwa, their nine-year friendship is built on FIFA video games and one friend’s mission to whoop the other’s ass at the game. 

    This love for video games has transformed them from campus acquaintances to housemates and cruise partners in crime. 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about making their friendship work despite being opposites, using bro code to handle girl trouble and why they feel seen in Batman and The Joker’s relationship. 

    Our origin story

    Tomiwa: Omo, my first recollection of meeting you was in my first year of university in 2013. You were roommates with a friend of mine at the time, and I’d heard you were the guy to beat at FIFA, so I took it up as a challenge. 

    Bamiji: And how did that work out for you? 

    Tomiwa: Mehn, we’d play from 10 p.m. to 4 a.m. back then, and you used to beat the shit out of me every damn time! Everyone who knows me knows I’m stubborn, so despite the trashing, I still went back to play. 

    Bamiji: Funny enough, your ginger made me like you in school. When someone repeatedly loses at a game, they get very irritated or angry. But for you, it was always, “I’m coming back to try again.” You wanted to be better, and I liked it. 

    Tomiwa: That determination paid off because now I’m constantly whooping your ass. 

    Bamiji: Oga, calm down. LOL.

    Lowkey, FIFA and the beating I gave you in school was the foundation of our friendship. 

    Reconnecting after school

    Tomiwa: We weren’t friends in school outside of the FIFA thing, so we didn’t really hang out when we left school. 

    Bamiji: Yeah, we used to see once in a while, but nothing profound. I remember when I was on the island and randomly saw you standing shirtless on the road. That was the night I got to know your place. You were itching to show me you’d mastered this FIFA thing. 

    After that night, I texted you to see if I could crash at your place for a while. The third mainland bridge was under construction, and moving from my place on the mainland to my office on the island was hard. 

    Tomiwa: Yeah, that’s right. You pulled up with food and snacks like someone with home training, and I was impressed. LOL. When you later mentioned you were looking for a permanent apartment on the island, it just felt like perfect timing. I was in this three-bedroom apartment, and the rent was starting to choke me. 

    Plus, having you move in meant I could rematch all the FIFA games I lost to you back in the day. 

    Me, you, FIFA and one apartment

    Tomiwa: Guy, for the three years we lived together, we played FIFA like mad men! 

    We’d wake up on Sundays, sit on the couch and play FIFA all day, only taking breaks to watch actual football. On other days, we’d have friends over to play FIFA, watch a match, and then, do some sports analysis. That was our lifestyle, and it was lit!

    Bamiji: Moving in with you was one of my best decisions. The level of our friendship wasn’t deep when I asked, but I already just felt comfortable with you. From school, and even after, I knew you’re such a free spirit and we wouldn’t have problems. 

    I was right because living with you just felt easy and stress-free. It made me realise we’d become friends for real. 

    The moment we became friends and developed a bro code

    Bamiji: Even though we have chemistry I can’t explain, the fact that you were eager to help me out when I was in a place of need is something I’ll never take for granted. My approach to friendships is very symbiotic. Before I moved in fully, I made sure there was always food during my squatting days. We both know how much you love food, so let’s say I could tell you were always happy to see me. 

    Another event that stood out was when I struggled with The Sports Lounge, a sports analysis show I was hosting. I wouldn’t say I was about to quit, but the other people I worked with weren’t as gingered as I was. I mentioned it to you, and while you offered to help, I didn’t take it seriously until the day you pulled up to the studio in trad and co-hosted with me. We’ve been hosting it together since then. 

    When did you know we were friends? 

    Tomiwa: Na babe matter for sure. Remember when you were dating that babe on the next street, and I lied when you asked me if we’d hooked up? I think this was the first month of us living together. 

    Bamiji: Oh, yeah! But what does it have to do with anything? LOL. 

    Tomiwa: So this babe and I had a fling before, and it ended way before you guys got together. When you randomly asked about her, I didn’t want to spoil something growing because of shit from the past, so I lied — one of the few times I’ve lied because not lying is one of my trademarks. 

    I sha didn’t know she’d already told you about us. On one of our drives from work, we were stuck in traffic, and you asked again. I just had to tell you the truth. Something about you seeing the reason behind my action, as opposed to just being pissed that I lied, solidified our friendship for me. 

    Bamiji: I didn’t know you guys had a history the first time I asked. But when I found out, I had to ask again, and I appreciate that you didn’t double down on the lie. It wasn’t a test, but I respect that you owned up to it as a man. 

    I don’t think girls can ever be a problem for us because of our bro code. If I sight someone, I’ll ask if you’re on her case. And if you are, I’ll remove my hands. Standard. There’s always a conversation. We don’t cross each other’s boundaries. 

    We’re polar opposites, but we make it work

    Tomiwa: You and I are very different. I’m more of an unpredictable wild card, while you’re a guy who likes routines. I go with the flow, but for you, if it’s not broken, why fix it? If I eat rice this morning, there’s a high chance I won’t eat rice again today. But this guy, you can eat rice for every meal. Forget food, you’ve watched How I Met Your Mother from start to finish like six times. Haba? 

    Bamiji: But I can be a wild card too, sometimes. 

    Tomiwa: You mean your alter ego with the stud earrings, Tyrone? That’s an entirely different person. 

    Bamiji: Not that nickname. But, yes. I feel like we’re opposites that attract, but we still know how to alternate and switch. There are days when I blow hot, too, while you cool down. But to be fair, I’m a creature of habit. 

    Tomiwa: I agree with opposites attracting, but what makes us work is we don’t just know each other; we understand each other. I don’t even think we’ve called each other best friends, but there’s an understanding between us. 

    I can share a look with you without speaking, and we understand what we’re both trying to say. 

    Bamiji: That’s so true, man. We could be at different ends of the club and still share inside jokes with our looks, which makes friendship really sweet. 

    I also see you as someone who solves issues. I’ll call you before I call a mechanic. I trust you that way because you always come through. Sometimes, I call you when crazy shit is happening, and I feel a sense of calm because you always have a solution. 

    Tomiwa: I also think we’ve rubbed off on each other because I know when to calm down now, and you’ve become more of a risk taker. 

    Coming through for one another

    Tomiwa: My personal CBN without interest! 

    You’re one of the only people I don’t feel any sense of shame around. I can be open with you no matter what happens in my life. Like a while ago, I needed money for something I was working on, and you were the person I ran to. 

    There was also the time when I went on a date and my bank fucked me up. This babe and I had finished eating and drinking, but my card, bank app and USSD weren’t working. You bailed me out of that embarrassing situation. 

    Bamiji: I trust you with money stuff because I know you’re a man of your word. If you say you need something, I’ll always come through because you’d do the same. I can’t even count all the times you’ve shown up for me. One time my car got stuck in the mud, and before I could step out, you’d come down, taken off your shirt and started digging through the mud to bring my tyres out with your hands. 

    I’ll still go back to how you helped make our show what it is today. It’s like you took my dream and made it yours. I appreciate that, bro. 

    What holds this friendship together? 

    Bamiji: I know it’s a bizarre comparison, but I feel we’re like Batman and The Joker. Yes, they’re supposed to be enemies, but deep down, they like each other or at least the chaos they both create. They can’t exist without each other. 

    That’s how I feel about you. I enjoy doing any and everything with you. I could be doing nothing, but because you’re there, I’m having fun. I don’t like going out if you’re not there. We always catch cruise together. 

    I’ve always said I’d move to you if you were a babe

    Tomiwa: LOL. We balance each other out, man. We do. It doesn’t matter if it’s roadside suya or popping bottles in the club, as long as it’s both of us, we’re catching cruise for sure. 

    I remember when we were dating. We would tell our girls they were the third wheels to both of us. You and I can sit in a car for three hours and just yarn rubbish. You’ll say the dumbest shit, and I’ll just burst into laughter. There’s always an inside joke with us. 

    I want you to know

    Tomiwa: Life and work can get overwhelming sometimes, but I appreciate that you’re always there for me, to pick up the slack when I fall behind. I was supposed to organise some stuff for Happy Corner, the fan club we founded for Sporting Lagos, but I was burnt out and spoke to you about it. I remember watching you go into full beast mode, putting everything together. 

    I appreciate it more than you know. 

    Bamiji: Aww. Do you want to make me cry? 

    Tomiwa: Don’t make this weird. 

    Bamiji: You know I always make things weird. 

    It’s hard to find someone who puts your problem on their head like it’s their own. That’s what I respect about you. But what makes me proud is how much better you’ve become at FIFA. LOL. These days, I tell people, “Have you played FIFA with Tomiwa?” because I’m so proud of how you now beat me. 

    There’s so much we don’t yet know about life , but we’re learning on the go. I’m happy I’m winging it with you. I pray God continues to bless our partnership. Keep being the amazing person you are. 

    Tomiwa: Man. Tears in my eyes. 

    Do you have an interesting bro story you’d like to share? Fill this form and we’ll get back to you.

    ALSO READ: Our Friendship Is Perfect Because You’re Stable and I’m Chaotic — Nnamdi and Yela

  • My Bro is a weekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Nnamdi and Yela both understand what position they hold in their friendship — one is dominant and outspoken, the other is a supporting character who chooses violence once in a while. This dynamic might prove difficult for some friends, but these two have figured out a way to complement each other and make it work. 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about surviving loss together, feeling guilty when one friend gets left behind and why they’re perfect for each other. 

    Let’s take a trip down memory lane 

    Nnamdi: My first recollection of you was around campus when we were in university. You used to sing at every opportunity, and it irritated me because you thought you were Bowen University’s version of Luther Vandross. 

    The first time we had a conversation was about 15 years ago at a cyber café in school. My phone rang, and you walked up to ask if you could get the ringtone. Again, I was irritated because I hate chit chatting with strangers. 

    Yela: I think your ringtone was John Legend’s Green Light. LOL. I love music, and most of the people in that school were sonically underdeveloped, so I gravitated toward many who shared the same musical taste. 

    I’d also seen you around school, always frowning in your black jalabiya. You had this presence that made you stand out every time you stepped into a room. It was intimidating. But I’m beginning to realise I’m attracted to dominant energy even in my platonic relationships because it allows me to take the backseat and fade into the background. That’s one of the reasons we work well as friends — you get the attention, and I can chill in a corner. Ying-yang. 

    Nnamdi: That’s why even though I was rude to you when you asked for the song, you just stood there shining your teeth. 

    We became friends when

    Yela: I had a couple of friends in school before I met you. We hung out together, but none of them got my sense of humour. With you, I finally met someone who got my pop culture references and listened to the type of music I liked. We also joined a fashion organisation that put us in each other’s space all the time, so I got to know you more. 

    Finding out you lived in Abuja, just like me, also helped. You graduated and moved back before me, so when I returned to Abuja, you were the only person I knew from school. We hung out some more, and that’s when our friendship really started to grow. 

    Nnamdi: Yes! We were friends in school, but graduating, moving back to Abuja and living in the same city brought us closer. Our mums even got to know each other, and your mum, who doesn’t trust anyone around you, started to rate me because she knew I was raised by a church woman. If only she knew I was an insane person. LOL. 

    But If I have to pinpoint the moment I knew our friendship was the real deal, it’ll be when my mum had cancer. 

    He came through for me 

    Nnamdi: When my mum fell ill in 2011, I had to take up the responsibility of running her business. I didn’t know how to communicate my feelings, but you were there through all of it. You’d call me every day, ask if I was going to her office and follow me there.

    We didn’t have to talk. You just kept me company at my mum’s office, assisted me with errands and things like that. It was the reassurance of knowing if I ever needed to break down or talk about my feelings, you were literally nearby. This is how our friendship has moved since then. We don’t have to talk about everything, but we know the other person is around. 

    Yela: I figured you needed someone, but not someone who’d be all up in your face forcing you to deal with feelings you weren’t ready to confront.

    Nnamdi: In 2019, when my mum died, you were the first person I called. Even though it was my biggest fear come to life, I didn’t grieve like people expected me to. I think you cried more than me. Because of how calm I sounded when I broke the news to you, you called our mutual friends to come and check on me as I was in Lagos at the time. 

    From what I remember about the burial and the days leading up to it, you were at my house every morning at 7 a.m. You accompanied me to get a casket, and other things I never saw myself doing. It was a lot. 

    Yela: I thought you were going to hurt yourself because I knew how close you were to your mum. It was also triggering for me because I’d experienced losing my dad. I wanted to be like a cushion for you amid the chaos. It was a no-brainer for me. All I did was show up. 

    Nnamdi: And it worked because you gave me space when I needed it. Random, but another significant moment in our friendship has to be when we both tried to go abroad for our master’s. I got in, but you had to stay back in Nigeria. 

    Working out our friendship when plans fail 

    Yela: I remember we started the whole master’s journey together after school. We’d become tight then, so we planned how we’d live life when we moved to the UK. You got in, but unfortunately for me, I didn’t. 

    Nnamdi: I could tell it affected you, but you were trying to be positive so that I wouldn’t feel bad about it. Your mum called me while I was in the UK and told me, “You and Yela are more than friends. He’s your brother. No matter what happens, you have to carry your brother along.” She said this because you were apparently in a mood, and it has sort of guided the way I approach our friendship. 

    Yela: I was in a mood because right from the time we started, I could see you making strides, but nothing was happening for me. It wasn’t jealousy; I was sad because I wouldn’t be part of this grand plan we’d made. 

    Secondly, I didn’t have a job, so my life for about two years after university revolved around us hanging out. I became depressed at the thought of losing that for a while. I also felt this pressure not to make you feel guilty, so I tried to act like everything was fine. 

    Nnamdi: I felt guilty. I tend to feel that way when I have access to something, but I can’t share that access with you. This guilt made me overcompensate because I’d call you more than usual, so it wouldn’t look like I was having fun without you. 

    Even when I moved back after my master’s, I made sure I introduced you to all my friends so you wouldn’t feel left out. I did the most sha. 

    Yela: But, look, it all worked out. We’re here. 

    Understanding our friendship dynamic

    Yela: Like I said, I feel like we work because my emotional frequency is the right fit for yours and vice versa. I understand when you want to shut off completely. I just show you that I’m here, and that’s enough. 

    While we’ve spoken about times when you bottled big emotions up, generally, you’re more outspoken than me. I hate confrontation. I used to be very passive-aggressive in our friendship, but you always want to address every issue so we can move on from it.  

    Your approach balances things out, but I’ve realised it’s unfair to burden you with trying to solve our issues. This also goes back to me preferring a relationship where I’m laid back. I’m working on ways to speak up when I feel upset or uncomfortable. 

    Nnamdi: I agree you don’t talk much when the issue involves us, and I tend to lead those conversations. But, omo, when it comes to defending me, you come through big time. As a big guy, people try to come for my weight—

    Yela: And I fuck them up!

    Nnamdi: Yes. And I do the same thing when people come for your music. Funny how I used to hate seeing you sing all the time in school. LOL. 

    Yela: The truth is, I don’t mind being a supporting character in this friendship. I mean, supporting characters still win Oscars and shit. The way I view it, we both don’t have to be at 100%. We don’t have to compete for air because we both know our strong points as individuals. Imagine if we had the same energy? It’d either be too dull (with my energy) or too chaotic (with yours). 

    What makes this friendship special? 

    Yela: I don’t know how to explain it, but our connection is different because I can tell you anything — even if you judge me. My life is better because you’re in it. 

    Nnamdi: I always say if I wouldn’t do something for you, there’s a high chance I wouldn’t do it for anyone else. I can talk to 100 people about a situation, but your opinion is what matters to me. You’re my voice of reason. 

    I recently saw a video about groups having reasonable and stable friends. I’m the problematic one who’s stubborn, and you’re the stable person who says, “Is this a good idea?” 

    The only time you’re problematic is when you’re in a relationship. 

    Yela: Wow. Nnamdi!

    Holding each other accountable 

    Nnamdi: People don’t always know it, but you have a very hot temper, and your first reaction is usually to fight physically. 

    Yela: Exactly. 

    Nnamdi: I’ve noticed you come to report yourself to me before I find out you’ve fought outside. Like when you fought a soldier and called me from the cab. LOL. 

    I’m very honest with you when I think you’re wrong. My delivery could be better, but you know I don’t mean any harm. I’m just looking out for you.

    Yela: You tell me I’m in the wrong all the time. I used to argue with you before, but I’ve realised you’re almost always right. I do the same too. When you have issues with someone, I show you where you fucked up. But the rule is we can criticise each other at home, but we must have a united front outside. To the death!

    What holds this friendship together

    Nnamdi: Our determination to enjoy life keeps us together. We want to eat at nice restaurants, travel, enjoy life, make money and be premium. We’re not where we want to be yet, but we’re on the way to that life. 

    Yela: We’ve seen each other at our worst, so now, we’re trying to live our best lives together. You’re the closest to what I’ll describe as my soulmate. 

    Nnamdi: Don’t forget we work with a “we” dream, not a “you” dream. Anything you want to accomplish gets added to my list and vice versa. We move together. 

    What would we change about our friendship? 

    Yela: Communication. I’m still working on being direct when I’m upset about something as opposed to being passive-aggressive or deep in my head. 

    Nnamdi: Communication for me too, but in a different way. I tend to be too direct. My tone might be a little aggressive when I’m pointing out something, but most times, it’s from a place of love. 

    Yela: Most times? 

    Nnamdi: LOL. Stop it. 

    I want you to know

    Yela: Before I met you, I never had a dominant male figure in my life because I grew up with my mum. My friendship with you feels like a brotherhood, and sometimes, you’re like a dad figure to me. You’ve nurtured, protected and taken care of me. These attributes come with being someone’s family, and that’s what you’re to me. 

    Know that I don’t take you or our friendship for granted. 

    Nnamdi: I’m incredibly proud of your journey. It’s been a hard adult life. LOL. And I’m grateful most of my adult journey has been with you by my side through tragedy and successes. It’s been a blast! And it’s only going to get better. 

    Do you have an interesting bro story you’d like to share? Fill this form and we’ll get back to you.

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