Ifedi and Laraba are friends.

They have known each other since they were both teenagers and somehow, they have always been around each other – secondary school, university and after they graduated, they both worked in the same bank but in different branches.

Ifedi and Laraba love to talk about God and their conversations are always focused on encouraging and uplifting each other. They talk about their experiences, their challenges, new habits they formed, bad habits that have refused to let them be and the good ones that they have improved on. They pray in between those talks; they laugh, sigh, take deep breaths and on some occasions, they cry.

They look forward to these frequent, refreshing conversations because, to them, those conversations were reminders that God’s promise to His children in Matthew 18:20 is real.

“Where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there in the midst of them.”

This was always the feeling they had after talking on the phone, via chats, text messages or video calls but last week, the conversation didn’t happen like the usual. Ifedi, who shared this experience with their mutual friend, Kamsi, said,

“I felt like God chose to walk away from us for a few minutes or did we unconsciously refuse to let Him into our conversation this time?”

“Was it that bad?”, Kamsi had asked Ifedi.

In response, she handed her phone over to Kamsi to browse through the most recent chat she had with Laraba.  

“Yeye girl! I sent a message yesterday; you read it and chose to ignore me. You’ve forgotten how Whatsapp works, right? If you want to join the ghost community, you’d better learn their ways!”

Stalker! Na you yeye pass sef! Real friends will be worried and send a follow-up message to be sure all is well but not you! I don’t know why you are still in my life. Unromantic humanoid!”

Kamsi looked at Ifedi. She laughed and gave an explanation immediately.

“Haba, Kamsi! You should know the way Laraba and I joke with each other. This is our usual banter. It’s not a war of words!”

She laughed again. Kamsi walked her eyes back to the phone screen.

“How far? Are you done for the day?”

“I am o. I noticed this new neighborhood close to my office so I decided to check it out. Lovely place. I just noticed this pretty lady standing by her car and scrolling through her phone. She doesn’t look happy.”

“How do you know she is scrolling through her phone?”

“If you see someone scrolling through her phone, won’t you know? Nonsense! Anyway, I just drove by a second time and she is still standing on that same spot, same position, doing the same thing with her phone. I’m tempted to walk over to her and ask if all is well.”

“Go ahead.”

“Ha! I won’t. what if her problems are more than what I can handle? You know, some of these ladies who live in posh areas have million-dollar issues. I tell you! As pretty as she looks, you will be surprised to hear the kind of complaints or concerns she has about her life. A cheating husband or no husband, wayward children or no children, a career that is thriving because she has chosen to compromise foolishly, heavy bank loans because she wants to sustain her ‘baby-girl’ life. My dear, the list is long!”

“Giiiiiiirl, you’re not far from the truth! We have a lot of her kind on this planet, even in this America. You will be shocked to hear some stories about our people and the kind of life they live here. Thankfully, I don’t have such people around me but I imagine that most of them come from poor homes but because they feel that strong urge to impress, they pick up all kinds of unthinkable behavior and habits. Tufiakwa!”

“Tueh!”

“Are you still in the rich neighborhood or are you on your way home?”

“On my way to which home? Our posh sister has stopped scrolling. She is talking to someone on the phone now and her face isn’t smiling at all. The recipient of this call is in trouble! I don’t understand the language she is speaking but her facial expressions tell me all is not well. Ah! Who is this unfortunate, miserable offender?”

“Her husband, maybe…or boyfriend…or some male. Dis kain vex no de pass man matter.”

“You see dat kain thing? Aaaaaah! These men! They will not kill us! A few nights ago, my neighbor was yelling at her husband and the next morning, I saw her putting his lunch bag and laptop in the car. Loooooooooool!”

“Laraba!!!!”

“Isn’t it funny? At night, you are yelling; daybreak, you are calming down…….aaaaah Ifedi, hold on! Aunty Posh has switched from anger to tears! This is not nice! Why are men so evil?”

“Tears?! Are you serious? It will never be well with the man behind those tears! Maybe he is intimidated by her wealth. Or could it be that he is intimidating and bullying her because he is the wealthy one?

“What are we talking about? Her tears could be because of the absence of a man in her life. Ah! This life is not balanced! Some are crying because they have while others are crying because they don’t have! God, have mercy!”

Kamsi stopped reading and returned the phone to Ifedi.

Ifedi hid her face in her palms.

“This is how two full-grown women spent an hour of their evening talking about someone they have never met, imagining and discussing her life’s issues that she never shared with them, comparing her to the wannabees in the diaspora and finally drawing up a conclusion that the presence or absence of a man is the reason for her pain and tears. Wow!”

“Kamsi, don’t say anything please.”

“Too late. I have already spoken. As innocent and sympathetic as this conversation sounds, it wasn’t worth your time, energy and input. Leave people alone, especially when you have no idea or clue of what is going on in their lives.”

“I know. It’s a lot of nonsense. I feel so terrible already.”

“That feeling of guilt is all you need to know that you erred. If you ever find yourself in this kind of situation again, remember this:

• Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands, just as we instructed you before.

It is in the Bible, Ifedi! Mind your business!”