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Male Friendships | Zikoko! Male Friendships | Zikoko!
  • My Friend’s Newfound Fame Is Ruining Our 14-Year Friendship

    People can dispute it all they want, but there’s no denying that the dynamics of a relationship changes when one party becomes famous. Whether it’s for good or worse is a different pot of soup.

    In this story, Fred* (34) talks about how one of his oldest friends joined the crop of post-COVID lockdown creator stars of 2021. He can sense them drifting apart, but his fear of getting labelled as “entitled” has hindered him from having an honest conversation about it.

    Image by freepik

    As told to Adeyinka

    I met my friend in 2010, shortly after I graduated from secondary school. My mum gifted me a Nokia phone for graduation, and 2go was the in-thing then. When I first joined, I mostly had random conversations with users I assumed were also trying to figure out the app.

    One day, I came across the rooms feature — forums with different topics. There was one for movies, politics, football and so on. I was preparing to study mass communication in uni, so it made sense that the only rooms that appealed to me were the ones tilted to the media. The rooms were almost as confusing as the 2go app itself. After you enter a room, there’s a barrage of messages from different accounts.

    It took a while to get around it, but when I did, I started dropping commentary in the music and movie rooms. Soon, I noticed an account that always engaged with my contributions. Whenever I talked about a new movie or song, he backed me, and I started to do the same for his comments. He had the Mona Lisa painting as his display picture, which held me back from sending a friend request at first.

    However, after a couple of exchanges in the forums, I could tell he was a cool person and I wanted to get to know him better, so I sent a friend request and he accepted almost immediately. It was easy to converse since we had similar interests, but I was curious to know more about him beyond what his profile bio said.

    I learnt he was fresh out of secondary school, about to write JAMB and had plans to study Mass Communication too. He also resided in Lagos, and was just two buses away from my house.

    Over the next couple of months, our shared interests and aspirations helped us form a bond, and we moved from the realm of 2go buddies to actual friends. We would constantly talk about our dreams to become OAPs and move around with actors, actresses and singers or even become superstars ourselves.

    He had a thing for music and was always attending auditions, and I was always there to cheer him up when he didn’t get picked. I’d make jokes about how he had a better chance at blowing up since he could sing, and we’d laugh about it, ending the conversation with how I’d probably be his manager or someone of importance on his team.

    Fast forward to 2012, we gained admission into different universities. It felt like we were a step closer to our dreams as media guys without either of us feeling left behind. Meanwhile, we’d still not met in person. We had super strict parents who didn’t entertain visitors or allow us to go visiting. But this didn’t stop our friendship from blossoming. We texted and took advantage of the MTN Midnight call package.

    But with uni came a lot more freedom.

    Our schools were in different parts of Osun state. We talked about visiting each other’s schools on weekends and breaks, but 100 level was hectic for both of us. We were two Lagosians trying to settle in a new environment whilst facing the harsh reality that was university life. Even when we planned to travel back home together, our schedules never seemed to work out.

    Let’s just say we didn’t see each other until 200 level when he visited me in school for a week.

    Even though it was the first time we saw each other in person, it didn’t feel like that. I was more than happy to introduce him to my new friends. But more importantly, I really wanted to show him how I was fairing on our shared dream of being media superstars. So, I made sure he attended classes with me. I showed him around our studio and was excited to talk about assignments, projects and all that. He also shared some of his experiences with me, how he’d gotten a slot to present for the school radio.

    It felt good, we were both on course.

    I never made the trip to his school even though he visited me a couple more times. But, I did visit him at home in Lagos. His dad took a liking to me after our first meeting, and he didn’t have a problem with me visiting, especially since he’d occasionally walked in on us passionately talking about our future in the media.

    We graduated from university in 2016. I went to NYSC before he did, but it didn’t matter because we still had our passing out service at the same time.

    After NYSC, I was retained as a writer at my PPA while he got a gig as a presenter at an online radio station in Ogun state. We didn’t get jobs with Beat FM, Cool FM, Silverbird or Channels like we both dreamt, but in a way, it still felt like we were on course.

    Except, a little part of me felt left behind. Something about my first job being a writing role didn’t fully align with our joint dream. He was a radio presenter, and it didn’t matter that it was an online station because he still got to interview celebrities. It was the first time he was a step ahead. But I didn’t let the thoughts linger, especially because we were actively applying for jobs in bigger media orgs. It felt reassuring that we were still on the hustle for the same thing.

    In 2019, I got a better opportunity as a journalist with one of the big digital media orgs. My friend had returned to Lagos because the online radio thing in Ogun wasn’t working, and to be frank Lagos was the real eye candy. All the while, our friendship remained intact, and he was always so happy to read my stories. On my part, I wasn’t entirely happy because it felt like I was a step ahead and he was behind because he didn’t have a job. The goal had always been to move as a unit.

     [ad]

    Then, COVID happened in 2020, and he went into the lockdown jobless. I knew it wasn’t the prettiest period for him. I remember how he once broke down in tears during a phone call, and I didn’t quite know what to say. We’d had some vulnerable moments, but that was a lot to handle. I just stayed on the end of the call, and offered the overused “It is well”.

    Now, you know how they say when life throws you lemons, you should lemonade? This was exactly what my friend did. Few months into lockdown, he started filming skits. He’d send them to me before posting and ask for my opinion. In all our years of friendship, I’d never really seen him as a comic, so I didn’t find the videos funny — at least, not CrazeClown or Taaoma funny. But it didn’t stop me from encouraging him and showing support by reposting, resharing and commenting.

    Soon, what started as a lockdown hobby picked up significantly. His follower count went through the roof on social media. While I didn’t find him entirely funny, people online did. They were in his comments, they were reposting his videos on Twitter and Instastory. My friend was everywhere, and I couldn’t have been happier. He was no longer a step behind, we were on course to achieving our dreams as media boys.

    By 2021, he’d fully taken his place among the new crop of lockdown creators. He’d gotten interviews with print and digital news outlets, and some appearances on TV. And the icing on a cake was when he landed an OAP job at one of the big media houses in Lagos. At this point, it became clear that he was on the fast lane to becoming a celebrity. Through all of these exciting changes, our communication remained pretty much the same. We’d chat on WhatsApp and Instagram, throw in occasional calls and even visit each other.

    By late 2022, my friend became a full blown celebrity in his own right. He’d started hanging out with popular skitmakers. Celebrities were in his comment section laughing their asses off his videos, and he even interviewed some of them on his daytime job as an OAP.

    At first, I refused to entertain thoughts that his new status would affect the dynamic of our relationship. I was constantly showing support in his DMs, and working to keep all our channels of communication alive. Instagram DMs, Whatsapp and Twitter DMs — all places were filled with chat histories that went back years. I’d sometimes quote old messages and we’d briefly reminisce about those times.

    But soon, we started to have less and less things to talk about. Our conversation reduced to messages I’d send congratulating him about a new milestone or responses to his WhatsApp status. We both try to put up a front and act like we’re still the same buddies who had dreams of carving out a space for ourselves in the media, but the friendship isn’t what it used to be.

    I’ve thought about talking to him on so many occasions. But you know how it is when people become famous. They sometimes put up a guard to protect themselves from people who feel entitled to being a part of their lives.

    I’m scared of getting branded as an entitled friend. I mean, shouldn’t it be enough that I’m still on his close friends list on Instagram? That I can call him right now and he’d pick up the phone? That I can lay claim to being this celebrity’s gee and he’d co-sign. That I can show up at his place and he’ll let me spend the night? These privileges should be enough.

    We still exchange messages across social media apps, but deep down, I know the friendship is hanging by a thread. At least, on my end. I fear that if I stop putting in the effort, the friendship is headed to its death. And he might not even notice because there’s so much exciting stuff happening in his life right now.

    Read this next: All the Ways Friendship Breakups Are Worse Than Romantic Ones

  • #IMD2023: “I know They’ll Always Have My Back” – Nigerian Men on Finding their Tribe

    There are more conversations happening about how men need communities and safe spaces to thrive. And for many men, the people they know and have formed close bonds with serve this purpose. They become their tribe.

    In this story, six Nigerian men talk about their tribe and how they make living a bit less lonely.

    Nauteeq, 30

    In June 2020, I was going through my Google Drive, and I noticed the same faces had appeared in my photos since 2014. So I thought if these people can be in my pictures every year, they must be my tribe. I was right, and I’ve been good since. 

    It’s tricky to quantify how much work went into building this community of people I feel safe with. But I know it wasn’t solo work, and everyone constantly put in some effort. The most challenging part for me was the amount of voluntary disclosures I had to give and receive, and that’s still ongoing. The WhatsApp chats and the Facetime calls never end, and I also walkie-talkie my friends to keep in touch.

    My community is my biggest priority, and I treat them that way. I know I will always find all the love and safety I need in them. They are always there and will answer me when the need arises. As a result, there’s never been a time I was scared that I’d wake up and not see my people again. 

    About a year ago, I was forced offline because of a nasty power cut in my area. By the second day of the blackout, these people, at different times, stormed my house to confirm I was good. One of them burst into tears when they saw that I was alive and well.

    That same evening, they dragged me out of the house, and my friend decided to dance at an event so she could win a power bank and hand it over to me: she didn’t want me to ever go off the grid again.  

    They’ll always have my back. Life has been fair to me because of these people. Money can’t buy that. 

    Dami, 28

    I have two tribes, and they exist for different purposes. One is a group of three people I’ve been friends with since uni. They’re my closest friends, and it’s easy because we grew up together in a way. 

    The second is a group of 12 boys, and they’re there for more serious matters — the personal and intimate matters I can’t discuss without being judged. It’s interesting how this worked out because I met them recently. But I warmed up to them the more I spent time with them and saw how free everyone was with one another. 

    It’s great I have these two groups in my corner; having them around helps me figure stuff out. In 2018, the 3-man group helped me navigate my most serious heartbreak. They’d met my ex several times and knew how I felt about her so they could get what I was going through. They checked in multiple times, and one reached out to her to fix things. The same group came in handy for the one after that. 

    They’re also a solid sounding board and are the first people I tell things to when they happen. There’s no other way to say it — they are my safe space. 

    Ayo, 29

    I’m a people person, so I have different categories of folks I consider my guys. I grew up with some and met others from school, at work, or through other friends. But in all these groups, a close bond has been formed. 

    I’m not going to lie; it took some work to get there, from the serious stuff like showing up for them when they needed me to everyday things like celebrating their wins. But it was all worth it because now I know they’ll always have my back. It makes living more pleasant. 

    I’ve been homeless twice, and I wasn’t bothered. I knew I wouldn’t sleep under a bridge; I just needed to reach out to some of my people and let them know I was in a fix. On both occasions, two of my guys took me in. The first was for free, and the second let me pay the rent at my convenience. It doesn’t get better than that. 

    Oluwatosin, 26

    For years, I didn’t think I needed a tribe. Most people form these strong friendships or communities in uni, but I was a lone ranger the entire time I spent in school. It’s not like I didn’t have friends, but I didn’t see the need to create or nurture a community that would be my safe space. 

    This thinking only changed about three years ago. I’m not sure how, but I’m glad it did, and I should have given it a chance much earlier.

    The first step in finding these folks was to identify what we had in common, which formed the basis of our bond. Now that I have them, they come through for me emotionally and sometimes financially. A while back, I felt the weight of family and work pressure crushing me, but these people got me through it. Also, I know who I can turn to for the urgent 2k to the significant loans. We prioritise refunds. This keeps the relationship healthy.

    My tribe fills a lot of void. And I’ve learned that I can always be vulnerable with them, and they’ll make me feel safe. There’s no high-pressure situation they can’t get me out of. It’s reassuring.

    David, 24

    My siblings are my safe space, and they’ve always been. In secondary school, I’d hear people talk about the not-very-nice experiences they had with members of my family, and I was always like, “Wait, what? My family is so chill.”

    It results from how much work my parents put in for us to become this close-knit group. The primary thing I feel with them is love, which is excellent for my quality of life because I don’t have many friends besides my girlfriend. Two of my close friends also recently left the country, so my siblings have become an even more integral part of my community. We talk every day, I’m close with their kids, and I even live with one of them. They make me feel incredibly lucky. 

    Mobolaji, 25

    I found my people in university. We were in the same space almost every day, and we built our community from the ground up. It was also primarily organic and started with little check-ins. But these droplets snowballed into something concrete post-uni. It still is. 

    They give me a sense of belonging and offer fresh, valuable perspectives on things I need to figure out or decisions I need to make. I’m self-sufficient, but it helps to know I have folks who will come through for me whenever I need them. It might seem minute, but this realisation alone improves the quality of my life. 

  • Anime and Gaming Have Sustained Our Friendship for 10 Years — Toby and Shonnen

    My Bro is a bi-weekly Zikoko series that explores and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Toby and Shonnen became friends in 2013 through their love for games and anime. On today #ZikokoMyBro edition, these young men share their friendship story of watching anime together and playing online games to bridge the distance between them.

    Over a decade of friendship

    Toby: We’ve been friends for about ten years. But we were acquaintances three years before we actually became friends.

    Shonnen: We’ve known each other since 2010, our first year of secondary school.

    Toby: We became friends in JSS 3, when we found out we had things in common. We started hanging out to play games and then got into anime together. 

    He was already into anime, but I was quite new to it. I’d only watched one season of Naruto. So one day, I saw him exchanging a season of Naruto with a classmate of ours, and we got to talking about it. Then we started exchanging CDs and would talk about the episodes every chance we got.

    Shonnen: Our love for anime and games brought us together. Naruto had a lot of seasons, and we couldn’t afford to buy them all, so we came up with the idea of buying different ones and swapping them. We used to swap PC games too.

    Toby: Especially the role-playing ones.

    Shonnen: The good old Naruto Base days. Life was so simple then.

    Our first impression of each other

    Toby: He was a cool kid, one of those who also wore ironed uniforms. He’s always had a crazy imagination, which drew us closer because we could concoct stories on paper and build storylines for days.

    Shonnen: He was one of those loud and playful kids. I was playful too but nowhere near his level.

    Toby: I became gentle later, but omo, I overplayed for a while.

    Shonnen: But after we started sharing anime and playing games together, I realised he was more than just the loud classmate. I really got to know him as a person.

    Toby: Over time, we both moved towards the midpoint of our extremes. I became a bit less playful, and he got a little more outspoken.

    Growing up together

    Shonnen: It was a lot of fun.

    Toby: We always found ways to hang out, play games and have a lot of adventures together — we had crazy imaginations, so we created storylines and universes based on just words based roleplaying. We’d build a character and level it up well with nice characteristics and basically roleplay them in our imaginary world all with the words and texts we came up with.

    Even after graduating from secondary school in 2015, we kept in touch online and reached out whenever we were home from uni.

    Shonnen: Now, we have less time for fun with adult things to worry about. Also, I stayed back in Ibadan since I entered uni, while he frequents between IB and Osun state.

    Toby: We don’t see each other as much because when I’m not in Osun state with my family, I’m on a work trip. But we keep in touch via online games and social media. 

    Shonnen: But distance only affects the time we spend having fun together, not our friendship itself. The connection is always intact whenever we link up.

    Our friendship outside of anime and games

    Shonnen: Our tastes in everything else are almost worlds apart.

    Toby: Actually, they’re not completely different.

    Shonnen: He’s like an Alan Walker (producer and electro pop DJ) guy, while I’m more of a Sufjan Stevens (alternative and rock/indie folk artist) guy. He listens to upbeat music generally, and I prefer calm and slow music — indie, alté and the likes.

    Toby: That’s the summary. But we jam to the same music sometimes.

    I’m more of a beat lover than a lyrics person. I’m more passionate about the symphony, beat and tempo of the whole song. It’s why I enjoy DJ fusions.

    Shonnen: But our shared interest in anime and games, and the constant search for money, is what holds our friendship together. Hanging out once in a while just to game online or enjoy anime together is how we hold it together.

    Toby: Our friendship is the type where, no matter how long it takes for us to hang out, we always pick up right where we left off. It never feels like we’ve not seen each other in a long time. We still know ourselves at the core; the things that brought us together are still very much things we are interested in.

    Shonnen: And we discuss great money making ideas.

    Getting used to a long-distance friendship

    Toby: It gets weird sometimes. I feel like I might’ve missed a bunch of things that went on in his life, but when we get the chance to catch up, we talk about everything and get each other up to speed. It just comes naturally because we understand that we get busy. No matter how far apart we are, when we’re gaming, we feel like we’re in the same room.

    Shonnen: We spent a lot of time growing up together, so a few months of not communicating is nothing.

    Toby: We don’t see it as ghosting. We know we’re always a DM away. Chatting online feels almost the same as chatting in real life.

    You came through for me

    Toby: The first time I ever earned money, in 2020, he was the one who got me the gig. 

    I do crypto. There are a lot of times when it gets frustrating, like when I get hacked or lose a lot of money. He’s always there to encourage me, and sometimes, even lend me capital to start over.

    Shonnen: One time in 2022, things were a little rough financially, and he put me on this arbitrage stuff — to gain from the difference in FX bank rate and black market rate — and I made enough money till things got better. We come through for each other whenever it’s needed.

    What I’d change about you

    Shonnen: Maybe have him make less noise, or tune his music taste to be a bit more similar to mine. I’d also change the amount of time we spend together.

    Toby: I don’t want any changes. But if I had my way, things would remain the way they were when we were in secondary school. We plan hangouts every now and then, but it’s never enough. I travel a lot for work, and outside that, I split my time between Ibadan and visiting my family in Osun state. When I’m finally in Ibadan, I don’t feel like leaving home for weeks. It takes a lot of willpower to visit him.

    Shonnen: We actually have a hangout planned. He should be in IB on Monday (July 17). 

    I want you to know

    Toby: I always tell him everything I need to tell him without any sort of filter. 

    He doesn’t visit enough. I know your side is more active than mine, but I don’t always have to do the visiting.

    Shonnen: I’ll visit more.

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

  • Dislike For School Made Our Friendship Bond Stronger — Nine and Mudi

    My Bro is a bi-weekly Zikoko series that explores and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Nine and Mudi’s friendship started in 2019 with a similar taste for certain types of music. With over three years of friendship, they talk to #ZikokoMyBro about ditching classes for their interests in crypto and tech, which has improved their standard of living.

    Nine and Mudi

    How long have you been friends?

    Mudi: Four years. That was probably around 2019.

    Nine: June, 2019 actually.

    How did you meet?

    Mudi: It was in uni. We stayed on the same hostel block.

    Nine: And we’re both engineering students. We’ve seen each other in class and hostel.

    What was the first connection?

    Nine: It was our matric day. Both of us stayed back in the hostel (laughs).

    Mudi: Yeah, I didn’t want to go for the matric. I woke up late and I saw somebody who also didn’t feel like going. I approached him and asked, “how far, you no go matric?” He said he’d go most likely later. Did he go? Find out next year.

    Nine: (Laughs) Bro, that was like our first interaction. The whole matric vibe was dead. So we stayed back.

    That was the only connection?

    Mudi: When Post Malone’s Hollywood’s Bleeding album came out, I didn’t have a music player to jam it. But someone constantly played the music out loud on my hostel floor. I always wondered who it was because I really fuck with Posty’s music, then I went to check who the DJ was and turned out it was Nine.

    Nine: So from there, we started talking about music and school.

    Mudi: We skipped classes a lot too (laughs).

    Nine: Sometimes I’d be in class, he’d be nowhere to be found. When I wake up sometimes, I often discover I’m not the only one sitting back in the hostel, Mudi is around too. We began spending time together.

    Mudi: One time, a math test was coming up, so we went to the class. We didn’t understand a single thing the lecturer taught. We eventually left and did our first night class together to read for the course. That made us closer. My fellow unserious nigga.

    Nine: We didn’t want to fail. We knew who sent us to school. Even though we’ve never liked school, we still wanted to try our best with it. And that’s how it has been until now. I think that’s a bond for us too.

    Mudi: Thankfully we’re almost done. Just a year left.

    What was your first impression of each other?

    Mudi: He seemed cool, but I wasn’t sure until he interacted during the matric. He was a calm guy and he minded his business. The music too, no one was listening to Post Malone on the hostel floor that time. 

    Nine: Other guys would bash our taste.

    Mudi: Na Naira Marley boys dey play for speaker. I’ve nothing against that, but I was happy immediately when I heard Post Malone from him. I was happy I wasn’t alone; like thank God o, make e no go be like na me be the only foreigner for this entire place.

    Nine: It was just cool. The vibes were just right. Having someone that likes the same things as you, almost the same way you do, I couldn’t ask for more.

    Apart from stabbing classes?

    Mudi: We actually went through sapa together too.

    Nine: Ah. Fuck. We don suffer before we begin soft. Now, things are better than good.

    Mudi: We don dey soft small, I’ll not lie. ‘Cause previously, it was sick man. We’d be cooking spaghetti when it’s past 12 a.m because that was when we had money. Just two of us. It wasn’t funny, man.

    Nine: It’s plenty o, but there was another mad phase in 100 level. We stayed away from parties because we couldn’t afford tickets. Other guys were there, not us.

    Mudi: We no get 1k for ticket, even though we always dress nice. But there was no money. We’d tell each other about parties that were happening but we’d discourage each other from going.

    Nine: We’d decide not to go. When people asked we just told them it’d be a boring party and kept it moving.

    Mudi: When we stroll past the party venues, we’d just shake our heads. Because of 1k. The only parties we went to happened because I was part of the organisers and I quickly pocketed some tickets. Looking back at it now, it’s crazy. Now, we’re the ones hosting parties and running things.

    What was your situation after 100 level?

    Nine: Things got a bit better. We began staying together from 200 level till now. We went from hostel floormates to flatmates off campus. I moved out and he moved in with me.

    Mudi: Aside from the music and truancy, we decided to grow together. It was like, this is what I’m doing at this point, what are you doing? Let’s make each other’s lives better. It was still rough, but way better than how we used to be.

    How did you guys go from being broke to renting out an apartment off campus?

    Mudi: Na bull run o. It saved our lives. That period, the prices of tokens were generally rising. There was more inflow of cash to the crypto market and that in turn yielded more profits on investments.

    Nine: It was the bull run, man. We thank God.

    Mudi: Nine actually introduced me to crypto. In fact, he had been eating good from it before I got into it. It was around the lockdown period. There was distance between us. I was in Lagos but we got talking and he gradually introduced me to it. And we started working hand-in-hand. Little money here and there served us.

    Nine: We did stuff together to make money. We’re like the real life crypto bros. There’s also tech stuff. Mudi is a game developer. Got into tech before me. He taught me basic things I needed at that time. Supplied me tutorial materials and made sure I didn’t miss anything. I do UI/UX now.

    Got a story to share? Send a pitch here.

    And how has it been?

    Mudi: Omo, let me not lie, it’s hard sometimes. Trading coins, buying and selling NFTs, creating and running crypto projects, etc. Dem dey chop our eyes, we dey chop their eyes too sha. It’s wins and losses; steady wins, major losses. I remember how hard it was starting from the ground up a couple times. Same as getting back up from a couple of bad investments. The space is very unkind to whoever gives up and we just pull through with knowledge and experience.

    Nine: It’s what has kept us not only afloat but majorly above what we should be running at this level. Nobody wants to hire an undergraduate for doing something they don’t know entirely and man has to feed, look good and still chest billings. I think we’ve been trying sha; learning, working and taking care of self. It’s been better.

    How do you hold yourselves accountable?

    Mudi: Hmm.. by being vocal. I don’t mind if disagreements probably come from it (we’d settle in few hours). Long as I let you know you’re know when you fuck up and need to do better. He knows me.

    Nine: You know I’m the same way too, bro. In doing that and getting things off our chests, we also make sure no one has any pent up resentments or anger. Air out the grievances and make the other party knows how we can do better moving forward.

    Mudi: Also, it’s harder than it seems most times because we regularly have to show up for both aspects of our lives (school and our individual career paths). The solution I put forward for us is to regularly have checks about school work outside our friendship. It helps us know what’s happening regarding school. For each other, we develop a reading schedule close to exams and tests and we get stuff done at least.

    What holds your friendship together?

    Mudi: We always stay in contact, whether we’re in the same area or not. We like to know what’s going on with each other, so there’s no information that’s lost between us at any point.

    Nine: We don’t have major friends outside of each other. We’re secluded from school right now. Another thing, we don’t hide anything from each other. Nobody does something without telling the other person what they are up to. Just like the crypto and the tech thing. That’s how it is.

    Mudi: I also think the drive for our friendship is fueled by our ability to be there for each other at any point; heartbreaks, finances, even school (laughs). As long as I know I have his back and he has mine, I’m good to go.

    Any particular time the other person came through for you?

    Mudi: There are countless times, but after we moved from the hostel to an apartment outside school, things were a bit slow for me because I’d just started getting into the crypto space. Nine helped me with funds, taking me through the baby steps, ensuring I was always in the know about what was happening, and helped me even when I needed help with cash.

    Nine: There’s been a lot but there was a time I was sick and had to go home. We had a test in school, he took my test for me and submitted.

    Mudi: Other things done for each other probably includes being wingmen for each other when it comes to getting women (laughs). Also basic house stuff like cooking and making sure the other person has something to eat when they get back from somewhere.

    What would you change about each other and your friendship?

    Nine: It’s the money sha. If we were richer, we’d be doing crazy things together.

    Mudi: There are many things we’ve been dreaming of doing together. We’ve banging ideas but funds are necessary. Nothing happens when the money is low. I just hope we’ll work harder than we’re now, so that we can get to where we want to be.

    Nine: There was a time we got supplies for clothing and made these custom lightning pants but we couldn’t continue with the mass production even though the final product was really nice. It’s little things like this that spark our desire to upgrade to better positions.

    So it’s not just crypto and tech?

    Mudi: No. We’ve a small fashion startup.

    I create custom made fits and I also paint on clothes. The lightning pants were for my fashion brand. Nine handles the creative direction for the brand and also in general. It launched during the lockdown. I made a couple of products, particularly painted trousers for a few people and demos and we got good reviews. 

    Where do you see yourselves together in five years?

    Mudi: Personally, I see myself managing Nine’s music career. Honestly I’d be content with that. He should blow up and I’ll manage his music. Funny thing, I didn’t even know he made music until later I heard some songs he did. I listened and loved them. Since then I’ve been telling him we’ve to push his music.

    Nine: I see us making more money together, travelling the world and just achieving.

    Music is just what I do when I am alone, tbh. It’s not really a major thing for me. That was why I hardly say anything about it. Most people still don’t know I make music. But I’ll work on being more visible.

    What have you always wanted to tell each other?

    Nine: Hmmm, it’s the usual sweet stuff we’ve always said na (laughs). Mudi is awesome, nice, cool and great. He knows I have his back anytime, though.

    Mudi: Na macho man, he no dey do emotions.

    As for me, what I always wanted to let him know is that I like how he works hard towards everything he gets his hands on. His attitude towards life is what I admire too. Although we can change and switch things up, for now this is it. Also, I want to thank him particularly for stuff he’s done for me in the past. I wouldn’t be here without him.

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

  • Falling For the Same Girl Cost Us 10 Years of Our Friendship — Dubem and Felix
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Dubem and Felix have been friends for over 20 years, even though they didn’t speak to each other for almost a decade. In this episode of #ZikokoMyBro, they talk about starting a rap group as teenagers, falling for the same girl in university and the tragic loss that reunited them again in 2020.

    Let’s start from the very beginning. How did you guys meet? 

    Dubem: We attended the same secondary school back in 1997. Felix was my older brother’s school son. It was a boarding school, my first time away from home, and my brother introduced us because he wanted someone to look out for me. 

    Felix: You were supposed to be my school son even though I was in JSS 2. But I knew you’d give me plenty wahala from the moment we met. 

    What were your first impressions of each other? 

    Dubem: Felix was a busybody. I come from a strict home, so being in boarding school was my first taste of freedom. I was among the most popular boys in JSS 1, skipping class and attending every social night. However, Felix was always there to tattletale on visiting days. He’d come over to my family and play the tape of all I’d been doing. I couldn’t stand him. 

    Felix: I thought he was a spoiled brat. I come from a family where we didn’t have much, so I understood responsibility early on. He was wasting his time gallivanting around instead of focusing on school. In hindsight, that freedom to be himself away from home must’ve been an enormous relief. I admit that I took my school father thing a little too seriously.

    It wasn’t until I got into SS 1 that we finally connected and became friends. 

    How did you guys connect? 

    Felix: Rap music. 

    Come again? 

    Felix: Yes, rap music o. This was the 1990s, and rap music was the biggest thing. Everyone thought they could be MCs, and I used to write bars and freestyle in private. 

    Dubem: I didn’t think he was cool until I heard him rapping DMX’s Get at Me Dog one day. I’ll never forget because DMX had just dropped Its Dark and Hell is Hot, and I was still learning his flow. This guy already knew everything word for word. I told him I was a DMX fan, and we started talking about rap. 

    Felix: I was shocked. I thought he’d be into the white pop music stuff, but this boy knew his shit when it came to rap, talking about Big Pun, Busta, Ice Cube and Dr Dre. We got so deep into the conversation that I did something I’d never done with anyone before, I shared some of my rap songs with him. 

    Dubem: I was blown away by how personal and tight they were. I gave him some of my mediocre bars, and we decided to start a rap group that day. We called ourselves Redemption Crew. 

    Like Rihanna fans say every day, “Where is the album?”

    Felix: We didn’t put one out. Now that I think about it, our name sounds like that of a hip Pentecostal church choir. But it was hot back then, sha. We really thought we’d become big-time rappers. 

    Dubem: It’s not too late. We can resign and chase our dreams. Abi, what do you think? 

    Felix: That’s a hard pass for me, please. LOL. 

    So what happened to the Redemption Crew? 

    Dubem: We both went to UNILAG, fell in love with the same girl and everything scattered. 

    Back up. It’s a lie.

    Felix: Unfortunately for all our potential fans, he’s telling the truth. We had a few popular songs in secondary school because we kept performing at social nights and parties. I eventually left for UNILAG in 2002, and Dubem came in a year later. University was different. The stakes were higher, and school was intense. Despite this, we still worked on the low and had plans to chase the rap thing once we were done. 

    Dubem: That was until I met Ebele. My first girlfriend in university and the first girl I ever loved. She was in her first year, just like me, and we had an elective course together. It was love at first sight for me, but it took a lot of convincing to get her to go out with me. We started dating, and my life was perfect. 

    Felix: I met Ebele through Dubem and didn’t think too much of her. They shared an elective, but she was in my department, so I saw her more often. We only started talking because of Dubem, and it was surface-level. However, when they started having problems, she came to me, and the conversations changed. 

    Dubem: Our problems started about a year into our relationship. I got involved with some weird guys and started struggling with school work. Instead of finding a solution, I took it out on her by being distant. I’d stay with these guys and disappear for weeks. It was my fault. I was also distant from Felix. I pushed you guys towards each other. 

    Felix: My friendship with Ebele started from our mutual complaints about Dubem. It helped that we both had someone to share the stress this man was putting us through. He eventually got his shit together, but it was too late because she was over it. I’m his friend, so I was still there. 

    Felix, how did your relationship with Ebele become romantic? 

    Felix: It started in 2005 when I was in my final year, and almost two years after they were together. Ebele and I had gotten closer, but I didn’t even know how much I liked her until she kissed me while I was tutoring her. We both felt guilty about that kiss, but our feelings had become undeniable. I couldn’t lie to myself or my friend. Dubem had to know. 

    Dubem: I knew about their friendship and thought it was cool, but kissing?  I lost my shit when he told me. He didn’t date anyone all the time he was in school, and now that he finally decided to see someone, he chose my ex? I was livid. I started replaying scenarios in my head. Had he been  playing me from the start? Did he always want my babe? 

    Felix: I explained how our feelings grew as best as I could, and just sat there and let him have a go at me. I deserved it. What I’d done was horrible, but I was tired of running away from how I felt. 

    How did you guys figure it out? 

    Dubem: I stopped talking to both of them. I couldn’t handle it, and I didn’t owe it to them to pretend that I was okay with it. I’d lost my best friend and a girl that was special to me, all at the same time. It was hard. And then I heard Felix moved abroad, which sealed it for me. We were done. RIP Redemption Crew. 

    Felix: Lagos, scratch that; Nigeria, wasn’t big enough for us after what I did. I felt so embarrassed. I’d become that guy who breaks bro code and gets with his friend’s ex. I had to move far away from those who knew us, so I pursued my master’s in America. Ebele came to join me, and we got married in 2008. 

    Dubem: I heard about their wedding from his cousin, which reopened the wound. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to be in the same room with him again. We didn’t see or talk again for 13 years until I got a call from Ebele after the lockdown in 2020. 

    What was the call about? 

    Dubem: She called to tell me that they’d lost their son in the height of the pandemic, my friend was a wreck, and they were moving back to Nigeria. I was shocked when I realised who I was speaking to. The Ebele I knew was soft-spoken, but this Ebele was direct and uncompromising. She didn’t beg me to show up for my friend; she told me to. 

    Felix: That’s Ebele for you. She’s always in control. But yes, that loss took me to a dark place. I had built a life in Texas, but I knew it was time to come back to the life I knew here. Losing my son in a place where my support system was shallow changed my perspective on coming home. I knew it was time, but I immediately started feeling anxious about Dubem, and I think my wife sensed that. 

    She eventually told me she’d spoken to him and set up a meeting for when we returned to Lagos. 

    How did this meeting go?

    Dubem: I’m not ashamed to say there was a lot of  crying. I’m a dad too, so I could connect to what they were both going through. These two people still matter to me regardless of what happened in university. Seeing Felix like that, I wanted to be there for him. 

    Felix: I was sweating a lot the day he came over to our place. Seeing him again brought back all the memories of writing lyrics in our notebooks and planning our lives together. It felt like I was in boarding school again. I didn’t know how much I’d missed him until I saw him. 

    Regardless of how I felt, I knew it was important to talk about what happened if we were going to move on from it. 

    Dubem: I think he wanted to be sure I wouldn’t randomly stab him one day . LOL. The talk was necessary sha. He apologised again and spoke for hours. But honestly, I’d moved on. I loved Ebele, but we were never meant to be, and that’s fine. I’m married to the love of my life. I’ve never been happier. 

    So how’s your relationship now? 

    Felix: We’re in a great place. We were intentional about not rushing into anything or overwhelming each other. We had the occasional family Sunday dinners and slowly graduated to hanging out alone and doing things together. I was scared we wouldn’t have anything to say to each other when we were alone, but we still had much in common. And most importantly, we still love each other. 

    Dubem: We always have something to talk about, Felix. We’re still the same guys who loved DMX in school, it’s just that you have some grey hairs, which makes you old, and you also think Pusha T is a better rapper than Kendrick Lamar. 

    Felix: But he is. 

    Dubem: I think that’s what our kids call a red flag. 

    With so much history between you two, would you change anything about your friendship? 

    Dubem: The time we spent apart. I wish we’d spent it getting to know each other better as we got older. We were apart for most of our 30s, and that’s time we’ll never get back again. 

    Felix: True. I would’ve loved to meet Dubem, the first-time dad. 

    Dubem: No, please. That was a crazy time. That girl wouldn’t stop crying and shouting everywhere we went. I always looked like a madman. 

    Here’s a link

    What’s something you’ve always wanted to tell the other person?

    Dubem: I know a part of you still carries some guilt because of what happened in school, but I want you to know that I forgive you. I meant it when I said it in 2020, and I mean it now. I’m so happy to have you back in my life. I can see us in our 80s arguing about rap music over glasses of scotch. You’re my man, and I’ll always have your back. 

    Felix: Thank you, Dubby. You’ve made moving back home such a seamless process; there’s no way it would’ve worked without you. I love you, and I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. Your authenticity has been consistent since the day we met, and it’s one of the few things I can always count on, no matter what. 

    No, I’m not crying. 

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

  • We Don’t Have to Talk All the Time for Our Friendship to be Valid — Michael and Faith

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


    Michael and Faith’s friendship started with a not-so-random DM on Facebook in 2016. With over five years in this friendship thing, they talk to #ZikokoMyBro about surviving health challenges together, maintaining transparency when helping each other financially, and how they deal with Michael’s tendency to disappear without telling his friend. 

    Let’s start from the very beginning. How did you guys meet? 

    Michael: I met Faith on Facebook in 2016 when the app was still popping. We both wrote poems and were part of the same writing community. Our interactions were limited to the comment section until Faith DM’ed me one day. 

    Faith: Ah, I remember. I’d been reading your work and sent a DM saying, “Baba, you dey write gan.” 

    Michael: I’m reading that message now and cringing because I replied, “Good evening, sir.” You asked me how to publish your poem somewhere, and I kept adding “sir” to all my messages. I don’t even know why I was being so extra. 

    What was your first impression of the other person? 

    Faith: I thought he was very intelligent. I’d read this thought-provoking essay he wrote about LAUTECH being on strike and how no one was doing anything about it. He had his way with words that allowed him to express even the most complex thoughts with a sense of clarity. I also liked that one minute, he could be writing something like that, and the next, he’s writing something about all power belongs to your bumbum with the same passion. 

    Michael: What do you mean by that? I thought you were noisy. You were everywhere, and your comments were on everybody’s posts. Let’s not even get into your Facebook name; “Emmanuel GodHonoursMe Faith”. Bro, are you the only one God is honouring? LOL. 

    Another thing that stuck out to me was the way you used words. You used to blow big grammar like Wole Soyinka in the most random conversations. I thought that was really cool. 

    When did your relationship move from admiring each other’s writing to an actual friendship? 

    Michael: We met for the first time and started getting close when I got admission to his university. Faith was in his second year, and I was in my first. We attended the same campus fellowship, and over time I started hanging out in his room since I had 20 roommates. Plus, he used to cook a lot. We became close during the period I was eating free food and hanging out in his room. 

    So basically, you were like an Abuja man hanging out for food and shelter? 

    Michael: You know what? That’s understandable. I started hanging out with him for basic human needs. LOL 

    Faith: No, let me defend you small. I made food for almost everyone because I was a fellowship big bro. Remember you used to call me “Sir”? 

    My turning point in our relationship was when I fell sick that day in school. I never fall sick, but my village people caught me this time, and I broke down. Michael was the first person on my mind to call. He came over, took me to the health centre and stayed with me through everything. He also checked up on me and cooked during that whole period. He took care of me. That ordeal unlocked something for me, and I knew this guy had become my friend. 

    Michael: So I’ve saved you from untimely death? I’ve tried for you, sha. 

    Michael, outside of food, can you remember when Faith really came through for you? 

    Michael: When I first moved to Lagos after university, me and being broke were like five and six. Faith was more shocked when I didn’t come to borrow money than when I showed up to beg. But the money wasn’t really the moment for me. My favourite come-through moment was when I fell sick. 

    You too? 

    Michael: Yes, o! In 2021 I was really sick and needed to undergo a severe procedure. It was a terrifying moment in my life when I was like, “Maybe I’ll see God in a few seconds”, and Faith was right there by my side. I fall sick often, so I’m used to hospitals. On the other hand, Faith rarely falls sick, so hospitals make him very uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be in a hospital but was there for me. I was sick, but I was pitying him. Lol

    Faith: I followed you to the hospital because I know you, and you have a habit of just putting your phone on do not disturb while everyone else is worried about you. I’m always concerned about you, so I felt it’d be better to go with you and be updated in real-time. Nothing prepared me for all the medical equipment and terms I heard during that period sha. Plus, I was the only one your mum could reach. It was worth it when you got better. 

    Regarding coming through for me, I’m grateful to Michael for always telling me the truth. I’ve gotten to a point where I feel like I’m doing well and I’m one of the baddest when it comes to what I do, so it’s important to have someone who can pull me aside and keep me in check. Michael will explain a situation to me, and I’ll realise I was the one that messed up. He’ll still call me out today even if I sent him money yesterday.

    I also feel comfortable talking to Michael about everything. Most people don’t have that in their friendship. 

    Money has come up a couple of times now, and how as to how it might affect your friendship? 

    Michael: First of all, Faith has a lot more money than me, so money can’t even be a problem for us. LOL. But seriously, it all boils down to transparency and being honest with one another. Faith knows how much I make, and I know how much he makes. I can’t ask him for anything that’ll inconvenience him, and he also knows when I’ll be able to pay back based on how much I make. We’ve refused to allow money to become a big deal in our friendship. 

    Faith: The transparency part is important. If Michael asks me for money twice a month, I’ll know there’s a serious problem and follow up before he tells me, “Oh, he had to send money home” or something like that. But another thing is knowing our financial capacities because we only make big financial decisions with the other person knowing. Michael keeps me in check when it comes to spending. This guy once spent N5k from Monday to Friday. I don’t know how he did it. 

    Michael: I’m not even trying to be frugal. I don’t know what I’m spending money on if I have food and water at home. You’re always going out, while I’m usually in my house, so it makes sense that you spend more money than me. 

    Outside of knowing each other’s finances down to the last penny, what’s another unconventional part of your friendship? 

    Faith: We’re very open about how much we love each other and unafraid to say it anywhere from the middle of Ikeja City Mall (ICM) to bus parks and emails. 

    Michael: Not you listing some of the places I’ve told you “I love you.” 

    Faith: The one at ICM is funny because you said it loudly in a restaurant after I bought you rice. Everyone was staring at us. It was embarrassing but beautiful. 

    Another unconventional thing about our friendship is that we write to each other a lot. Not texting, but writing via email to catch up and share how much we mean to each other. This guy can ghost everyone for a long time, but every time I write, he responds. 

    Ghosting in friendship again? Michael, please explain

    Michael: I’ve ruined a lot of potential friendships because I suck at responding to messages and social media. Instant messaging doesn’t make sense because I can’t keep up with talking to multiple people at once about different things. Many people don’t get it and assume I just don’t rate them. That whole thing on Twitter about “People make time for people they care about”. It’s not about time; messaging is just not my thing. 

    What I love about my relationship with Faith is that he gets it. We don’t always text, but we talk via long emails. I can send a mail on Monday and not get a response until the following Monday, but that’s totally fine. I know he’s still there for me. Constantly talking doesn’t validate our friendship. 

    Faith, how did you get comfortable with this communication style since it’s not the most conventional in friendships? 

    Faith: It was a bit challenging initially, but I had to learn that not everyone will be like me. Not everyone has the energy to fill up a room or talk on the phone for 30 minutes straight. It doesn’t make them any less amazing. 

    I know Michael trusts and feels safe with me, so he’ll come around on his own terms. Just because he’s nowhere to be found doesn’t mean he’s not thinking of me. He’s disappeared so many times only to send a bottle of wine or the hardcover of a book he thinks I’d like. People are different. 

    Michael: I’m a great friend if you manage your communication expectations. Faith gets it, and that’s why we work well.

    Faith: We’re on the same wavelength. He can disappear today, but when he returns, he can take up  six hours of my time. 

    Six hours, doing what? 

    Faith: We’ve watched a TV show virtually before, episode by episode. We also read together virtually at the same time. I’ll ask what page he’s on, and we’ll read together. If we poured this energy into dating, we wouldn’t be single. LOL. 

    Would you consider changing something about your friendship or the other person? 

    Michael: I wish we saw each other more, but that’s on me. Faith is always available while I’m usually in my house, hiding or working. Then, for Faith, I’d like you to please calm down more often because it’s not everything or everyone that deserves the amount of emotional strength you put into them. Don’t you like peace, joy and happiness? These are things you could imbibe. Your gragra is too much. 

    Faith: I totally agree with the second one. My emotions are always all over the place. For our friendship, I’d like us to have more money so Michael can spoil me with trips to Abuja— 

    Michael: Abuja? That’s your holiday destination? I need to unfriend you after this. 

    Faith: Oya, let’s do Venice or Bali. Regarding what I’d like to change about you, I’ll say it’s the ghosting thing, but not for me, for our other friends. I’m already used to you disappearing, but most of our mutual friends don’t get it, so they become worried, and I have to reassure them that you’re good. Drop a message for them that says, “Hi guys. I’ll be disappearing for three days. Cheers.” 

    Michael: I don’t plan it. But I’m trying to be better. 

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

    What’s something you’ve always wanted to tell the other person? 

    Michael: I want us to write more. Our emails are some of my most treasured possessions in the world. I love how we write each other those long emails, and I want more of that. 

    Faith: I’m so proud of how you’ve hacked capitalism. You used to hate it, but now you’re killing it. I love seeing that growth. I’m so so proud of you. 

    Michael: That’s so sweet. Look at you being a sweet person. 

  • We Became Best Friends After Having a Threesome — Josh and Kelechi
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Josh and Kelechi became friends after they both participated in a threesome. Now five years into their friendship, the two talk about the interesting sexual encounter that brought them together, bonding over therapy and why boundaries are important even in an unconventional friendship like theirs. 

    Let’s take a trip down memory lane. How did you guys meet? 

    Kelechi: I met Josh in 2018. I was in my second year of university while he was in his third and dating a girl in my class. I didn’t really know him, but their relationship was popular because both of them were the king and queen of PDA on campus. You wouldn’t see one without the other; they were always holding hands or kissing. 

    Josh: What can I say? We were in love. I’d seen you around too, but I only started paying attention when my girlfriend started talking about this cute guy in class she wanted us to hook up with. She had a crush on you, but I needed to know more if we were both going to pursue something with you. 

    Pursue something? 

    Kelechi: Josh and his girlfriend are in an open relationship, although they’re only allowed to be with the same person. Guy, please explain it yourself. 

    Josh: LOL. You’ve dropped the basic synopsis of our situation. The full gist is that my girl and I are open, but we only hook up with thirds. We’re not allowed to see other people separately. If I like someone, then two of us must like the person and vice-versa. It’s also purely sexual, no feelings attached.  

    My girl liked Kelechi back then, so I had to scope the guy on my own too. You’re a fine guy, so it didn’t take too much convincing. Getting you on board was surprisingly easy too. But I can still remember the shock on your face when we told you we wanted to sleep with you. 

    Kelechi: Bruh. Let me not lie and say I was a saint or anything. But I’d never been in a threesome, much more being approached by a couple to have one. I liked your girlfriend too, but I didn’t overthink it since she wasn’t available. She asked me to hang out after class, and that’s when you made the proposition. I thought it was a prank. 

    Josh: Prank as per you’re on Punk’d? You really think you’re a celebrity for real. 

    Kelechi: My friend, shut up. I had to pick my jaw up from the floor that day. My brain told me to say “No”, but I watched myself say, “Yes”. 

    Josh: Omo, I was shocked, too o. That was the fastest “Yes” we’d ever gotten. Most people would ask to think about it and either come back for some *cough cough* or start avoiding us. But you said “Yes” on the first ask. Why? 

    Kelechi: I don’t know. But there was something about the both of you — being the hottest couple in school and all, wanting me that immediately turned me on. I also felt really special, like I was chosen. 

    Josh: DFKM

    How did this friendship form from your threesome? 

    Josh: Like Omawunmi once sang, “If you ask me, na who I go ask?” 

    Kelechi: Behave, jare. I was too irresistible for just a one-night stand. You needed me to be a part of your life. 

    Josh: Honestly, yes. The sex was great, and all three of us enjoyed it, but the conversation after really struck me, and I was like, “This boy is cool AF”. 

    What did you guys talk about? 

    Kelechi: Therapy. 

    Josh: That’s not a topic anyone would expect to hear, especially when the people involved just had a spicy threesome. But I’d just started therapy, and when Kelechi joked about telling his therapist about us, I just started pouring my whole life’s story to him.

    This was the first time I was meeting another guy who was in therapy. I’m sure there are other guys, but I’d never seen someone who was that open to talking about it. It started from jokes about how therapy is expensive AF and making us poor, and then we just segued into how helpful it’s been for us. 

    Kelechi: Do you get? I’d be more of a mess if it wasn’t for therapy. I have a serious anxiety issue and most Nigerians don’t even take it seriously. People think I’m lazy or avoidant. Therapy helped me figure out the problem and learn how to confront it.

    Talking to another guy who knew something was wrong and was taking the necessary steps to fix it reaffirmed my decision. 

    Josh: Me too. My girl and I usually keep a distance from our thirds unless we’re planning a hook-up, but I started hanging out with you more, and it was just what I needed. She supported me but didn’t get the therapy thing. And that’s fine. I also needed to be around someone who could relate on a personal level. 

    Was your girlfriend okay with that? 

    Josh: Not at first, but I think she also understood that the sex thing with Kelechi was more her than me. My girl is my best friend, so I didn’t have a lot of friends in school I could talk to. I made her understand that I needed Kelechi on a friendship level and it didn’t have anything to do with her not being enough. 

    Kelechi: This guy and sweet mouth. “Anything to do with her not being enough”? Bars, my guy. 

    Josh: I dey try. But it really wasn’t. My entire existence was wrapped around one relationship in my life, and it wasn’t fair on her. It’s also part of why I started seeing a therapist. I needed people to talk to. 

    It’s been five years, and I’m curious how your friendship has evolved. 

    Josh: I realised a couple of months into our friendship that I was doing to Kelechi what I did to my girlfriend, making them the centre of my world. Like, I was talking to just two of them, and I know it’s good to keep my circle small, but it doesn’t mean I should suffocate the people in it. Kelechi was also too polite to ask for space. Now we have these difficult conversations and draw boundaries where necessary.

    Kelechi: I’m a people pleaser, and I wanted to be a good friend, so it was hard for me to say, “Oh, I feel you dude. But I can’t process your stuff now because my life’s a mess.” 

    We enjoy talking to each other, and it’s helped to have someone to listen to and bounce ideas off of, but that boundary thing was necessary. Then again, how do you set boundaries in such a complicated friendship? 

    Josh: Talking about it. Shoutout to my therapist because she was the one who pointed out how in trying to be each other’s person, there was a high chance we might lose ourselves. I brought it up with Kelechi, and we had that conversation. We have an “I’m at my mental capacity” safeword. I know he wants to be there for me, and me, him, but we also had to learn how to be there for ourselves once in a while. 

    You guys seem so zen. Do you even fight? 

    Kelechi: It’s hard to fight with someone who doesn’t like confrontation. Whenever we almost have an issue, Josh will apologise whether he was right or wrong. I admire it, but it can be annoying. 

    Josh: Wow. But it’s because I love you, bro. I genuinely don’t like people being upset at me. Plus, we’ve never had an issue worth fighting over. Our only problems are you always being late and me taking five years to text back sometimes. 

    Kelechi: Fair enough. 

    Is there anything you’d change about your friendship? 

    Josh: I wish we met earlier. I don’t regret how we met, and I wouldn’t change it, but I wish we got into each other’s lives earlier. You’ve made me more open to receiving non-romantic love. I can’t help but wonder sometimes how many friends and relationships I missed early on in life because I was closed off. 

    Kelechi: I wouldn’t change a thing. Not even timing. We met when we needed to meet, and it worked out well. I’d change your detty love for amala though. That right there is a character flaw. LOL. 

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

    What’s something you’ve always wanted to tell the other person? 

    Kelechi: I’m open with how I feel about you and your importance to me. I love you, and If I had to choose a best friend in another life, even if I were a dog, I’d choose you. 

    Josh: A dog? Be calming down. But I love you too, and I’m grateful you’re in my corner. I don’t know how I’d do this life thing without you. You and my babe are the only ones I’d actually get in a fight for. Everyone else O.Y.O is their case. 

  • My Best Friend Is Young Enough to be My Son — Sadiq and Tobi
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Tobi and Sadiq first met in 2001 but only became friends after an event changed their lives in 2020. In this episode of #ZikokoMyBro, the two talk about how they navigate their complicated 14-year age difference and the feeling of abandonment that comes with saying goodbye when someone you love japas. 

    Let’s take a trip down memory lane with your origin story

    Tobi: I can confidently say I’ve known this one since he was a baby because I met him when he was four. This was 2001, and I was roommates in university with Umar, his brother, so I’d come over to their place when I met “Junior”. 

    Sadiq: Bro, why would you tell everyone that? No one calls me Junior again. 

    Tobi: Does your dad know this? Because—

    Anyway, I don’t think he even remembers that day. Do you? 

    Sadiq: I was four, of course I don’t remember. But I remember you always came around our house when I was growing up. Because of the age gap between my brother and me, you naturally looked more like his brother than I did then. 

    What were your first impressions of each other? 

    Tobi: I thought he was clingy. It makes sense to now because I understand he was a child and only had his brother and parents. But I was an only child forced to be independent super early, so I didn’t get why he wanted to follow Umar and me everywhere. He was like this pest we couldn’t get rid of. 

    Sadiq: I just thought you guys were so cool. My parents will deny it, but I was a mistake; they only wanted one child. They had me when my brother was almost done with secondary school, so everyone around me was older. I also didn’t like kids my age because they were boring. I wanted to be a grown-up, so I attached myself to you and my brother. 

    Tobi: My own that time was this small boy was cock-blocking us. We’d want to go out, and his mum would say, “Can you guys take Sadiq too? He wants to go.” I couldn’t stand him. 

    So what changed? 

    Tobi: Time. The older he got, the less annoying his presence was. By the time he was a teenager, I had started to think, “Okay, maybe this kid is cool.” 

    Sadiq: You think I’m cool? Thank God we’re recording this because I’ll save this quote and use it whenever you try to yab me, especially my fashion choices. 

    Tobi: Enjoy the compliment while it lasts. You’ll only get it once every five years moving forward. 

    When did you guys become close? 

    Sadiq: We’ve always been close, but we got even closer after my brother moved abroad with his family in 2020. 

    Tobi: 2020 was a challenging year for everyone. But for me, it was Covid, switching careers after years of being miserable, #EndSARS and then my best friend packed his bags and japa’ed. It was the worst year of my life. 

    Damn

    Tobi: As an only child, I was used to doing things on my own until I met Umar. We were roommates, and even though he forced a friendship on me, he quickly became the brother I never had. We’d study and party together, and even when we left school, we ensured we lived close together. 

    Nothing prepares you for what it’s like to say goodbye to someone who was a big part of your life. Umar mentioned wanting to leave Nigeria, but the protests were the tipping point. It’s ironic because it further strengthened my resolve to stay in Nigeria. I miss him, but then I had to quickly use Sadiq as a replacement. LOL 

    Sadiq: I was about to say this gist is about our friendship, not you and my brother. Na wa o. But yes, Umar leaving was a lot for everyone. But imagine someone successfully getting everything they need to go, and you’re like, “Oh, I feel sad or angry that you’re leaving”? I couldn’t really express the sense of abandonment I felt at the time with anyone until we hung out the weekend after he left. 

    Tobi: That was the night we connected on a deeper level. Or maybe it was just the edibles. Either way, a connection sha happened.

    What did you guys talk about? 

    Tobi: Maybe it was because of alcohol and edibles, but after some small talk, I found myself opening up about how angry I was about Umar leaving. Just like Sadiq, I felt abandoned, but I also felt guilty for even feeling that way. Like, what right did I have? 

    Sadiq: Exactly. I felt guilty AF. Talking to you about it and knowing you felt the same way made it okay for me to acknowledge my feelings and eventually move from them. 

    I wasn’t sure how I’d function as a whole with my brother so far away, but I felt a lot better after our conversation. It was like I’d just gotten a new big bro that I could disturb and embarrass regularly.

    Tobi: If only you knew I’d be the one embarrassing you. LOL. 

    That conversation changed the way I looked at him. I’d always seen Sadiq as my best friend’s baby bro, but I saw him as a man in that moment. It wasn’t just an older and younger dynamic anymore. I felt we could be genuine friends. 

    Aww. How did you guys navigate this new friendship? 

    Tobi: It was weird at first, especially for me. I felt like I was cheating on Umar when we hung out without him. Plus, people, especially my partner found it odd that I always hung out with someone old young to be my son. She was a major opposition to our friendship, but it’s been two years now and she’s gotten used to him.  

    We have other friends, so it’s not like we desperately sought a connection. But I also wanted to put in the effort to have a relationship with him, separate from his brother. It helps that we both have a lot in common. No one loves to turn up more than both of us. 

    Sadiq: Please, don’t lie. We’re not the same. How is this man 40, and I, the guy in his 20s, that has to remind him that we have a home every time we go out? I love a good night out, but Tobi loves a good night into day outing. LOL 

    Tobi: What can I say? I love a good time. But outside of going out, we spend a lot of time talking too. From relationships to work, we always try to talk things out. I mean, I’m the reason his relationship has lasted this long. My golden advice has always been, “Don’t argue; just listen to her.” I better get a shoutout at your wedding. 

    Sadiq: Please, when did I mention marriage? Don’t set me up abeg. 

    Becoming friends with him has made it easier for me to be honest in our conversations. That whole big brother thing created boundaries. Like he said, I’m not the best at relationships, but Tobi has been in one since World War I, so he has a lot of experience and is never afraid to call me out on my bullshit. He looks out for me like an older brother, but he’s also non-judgemental like a friend. That’s the sweet spot. 

    Tobi: World War I, abi? Well done. 

    Sadiq is very stubborn, and I’m just like that too. But having him in my life has taught me to be patient. Both of us can’t be the assholes here, so we take turns. He also calls me out on some of my BS, like my drinking, which I’ve cut down on since we started hanging out. I’m learning from him that it’s possible to have fun and still remember the fun I had by the time I woke up the next day. 

    How does Umar feel about this friendship? 

    Tobi: He finds it funny since I was very anti-Sadiq when he was younger. But he’s glad we have each other. He’s always complaining about FOMO on our group chat. 

    What holds your friendship together? 

    Sadiq: Mutual respect. Tobi doesn’t treat me like a child, and that’s important to me. I’ve always felt like the “baby” for the longest time, so it’s great to have someone older who doesn’t reduce my opinions or experience to age. 

    Tobi: Eyah, Junior. My boy. For me, it’s honesty. I like that he doesn’t judge me or see me as someone who should know everything. There’s this perception that once you’re in your 30s, you need to have life figured out. But I’m 40 now, and I’m still figuring shit out. I like that our friendship gives me space to do that. He doesn’t look at me like an agbaya. 

    What’s something you’ve always wanted to tell the other person? 

    Sadiq: I was always jealous of your friendship with Umar because I thought you guys were cool. Now that I’m older and have my own relationship with you, I understand that I admired the loyalty you guys had. Thank you for sharing that loyalty with me. Thank you for stepping up when I needed someone in my life. I know you don’t like sappy stuff, but I love you plenty. 
    Tobi: Did you just turn me into that “I’m not a stepfather; I’m the father that stepped up” meme? Jesus. You already know I love you. One thing I don’t say a lot is how proud I am of you. I was doing a lot more when I was your age, yes. But you’re doing well right now, and watching you kill it in your career, relationship, and life gives me so much joy.

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


  • How My Barber Became My Best Friend — Tejiro and Emmanuel
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    They met eight years ago, when Emmanuel started cutting Tejiro’s hair. In this episode of #ZikokoMyBro, these two besties talk about the relationship secret that started their friendship, navigating a significant difference in wealth and influencing each other to be better. 

    Our origin story 

    Tejiro: We met in 2015, when I’d just moved back to Port Harcourt after my masters in the UK. I was looking for a barber that’d treasure my hairline, so my girlfriend at the time brought me to your salon. But I wasn’t the only guy she was bringing there sha. 

    Emmanuel:  This guy. Are we starting our story like this? 

    Tejiro: Is it your heart they broke? Anyway, I sat in the salon for a while, watching you and the other barbers cut people’s hair. By the time you guys were done, I decided you were the least likely to fuck up my hair. 

    Emmanuel: I didn’t notice you until you asked if you could sit in my chair. 

    First Impressions

    Tejiro: I remember you smelt really nice, not like aftershave or powder, but like this quality big boy scent. I really liked it. You were also acting all serious, like the hair you were cutting was further maths. 

    Emmanuel: Why do you think I’m the best at what I do? Cutting hair is like painting for me. 

    Tejiro: Come on, Picasso. Abi, are you Leonardo Da Vinci? Guy, abeg. 

    Emmanuel: I noticed you were restless that day. And I wished I had a biscuit to give you so you could calm down. 

    Planting the seed of our friendship 

    Tejiro: I was one of your regulars for almost a year before we had any serious conversation. I’d text you to see if you were in the salon. I’d come in, cut my hair and bounce. Nothing serious. At least, not until you told me my girlfriend was cheating on me. 

    Emmanuel: I knew your girlfriend before I knew you, and even before she brought you, she’d been bringing other guys to the salon. I didn’t think anything of it because I never got to know any of them. I also didn’t know the arrangement you guys had. But the gist about her, you and the other guys became a joke among the barbers, and even though it was a risk, I felt like I needed to ask you. I just had to be strategic about it. 

    The week before I told you, I made small talk with you about work and life before I was like, “Where is madam? Shey, we’re coming for wedding soon?” or something like that, and that’s when you just went into the whole gist about how she’s so special to you, blah blah blah. 

    It was like I’d given you the space to gush about your woman, and you didn’t want to stop. 

    Tejiro: I was down bad for love, bro. 

    Emmanuel: That’s when I decided to tell you what was happening. I could tell you really liked her, and it was unfair that you’d become a joke among my co-workers. What’s the worst that could happen? You’d say you knew and stop cutting your hair with me? No wahala. 

    So the next time you came, I asked to see you when you were leaving and told you everything I knew. 

    Tejiro: I didn’t want to believe it initially, but I had my suspicions. The weirdest thing is it wasn’t the cheating part for me. It was everybody knowing. It made me feel like a fool. 

    I considered changing salons after we broke up. I was too ashamed to come back. But I wasn’t going to allow a woman fuck up my life and then my hairline. You were my barber, and I’d rather cheat on a girl than a barber that understands my hair. 

    Emmanuel: LOL. I hope all the girls you meet next read this and understand that you’re trash. 

    Navigating our different backgrounds 

    Tejiro: One of the most significant issues for us when we got to know each other was our different upbringings. 

    Emmanuel: That part. You were this ajebo who was used to getting what he wanted, and I’d hustled my way on the streets of PH to get to where I was at the time. We saw life differently. You were always inviting me to the club and places I’d spend money unnecessarily, and I was like, “This one no know say I no get mama and papa with millions for their account.” 

    Tejiro: So, the break up pushed me to a crazy lifestyle. I also felt this need to prove to you (as the person who broke the news to me) that I was handling it well. But I wasn’t. I was a mess. 

    Emmanuel: I’d been there before, so I had a feeling you were avoiding your feelings. But outside of that, your clique treated me like shit, and I didn’t find it funny.

    Tejiro: Some of my friends at the time were assholes. They wondered how I was friends with the guy who cut my hair. To them, it was like being friends with your driver. I won’t lie; I started to look at it weirdly at some point too. But it came up in a conversation between my mum and me once, and she shut it down. 

    Emmanuel: I trust Mrs N. No time for rubbish. We became closer after you stopped hanging out with most of those guys and took time to get over your breakup. 

    You were trying to pretend like money wasn’t a factor in our friendship, but it is, and that’s normal. I can’t travel for summer like you, and I’ve accepted that there are things we can’t experience or do together (for now) because of money. 

    Tejiro: I’d never had a friend outside of my social class, so it was somehow. Plus, I don’t like addressing issues. I tried to pay for stuff most of the time, but your shoulder pad is too high. I respect that, though. 

    Emmanuel: Guy, abeg, you can’t pay for everything we do or get. You can pay for shawarma and bottles once in a while, but it’s okay to do something alone or with other people, if I can’t afford it. Shebi, we’re doing Ghana this December? That one I can do. 

    Pushing each other to be better 

    Tejiro: Where do I even start when it comes to how you’ve come through for me? 

    Emmanuel: I know mine. You pushed me to open my own salon. I always wanted to do it, but I second-guessed myself a lot and feared failure. 

    Tejiro: Look at you today with three branches. You should name one after me, out of gratitude and all. It’s just a suggestion. 

    Emmanuel: Get out! But seriously, these salons happened because of our different backgrounds. 

    Tejiro: I don’t get. 

    Emmanuel: Because I don’t come from a lot, I tend to limit myself, so I don’t lose the little I have. I make plans and dream, but something in my head always tells me to be “realistic”. But you? Bro, the way you make plans? You have the luxury to dream big because you have something to fall back on. Even though I don’t have that luxury, I needed some of that blind faith from you. 

    I don’t think I’d be this successful if you didn’t push me to jump. 

    Tejiro: You keep me grounded and make sure I’m not overdoing things, so I guess we’re in a “Scratch my back, and I’ll scratch your back situation.”  

    What I wish I could change about you

    Emmanuel: Please, stop being restless, or channel it into something that challenges you. You could do a lot of cool stuff, but it’s hard to focus because you’re trying to do too many at once. 

    Tejiro: It’s hard, but I’m working on it. 

    I want you to rate yourself more. You’re the baddest at what you do, but you need some oud de confidence. Move with the energy of someone who’s a rockstar. 

    I want you to know

    Tejiro: Outside of saving me from a shitty relationship, I want you to know you’ve changed my life in ways I could never imagine. Most of the friends I had before you were either too scared to tell me the truth when I did something wrong or just as oblivious as I was about life. You’re not like that. You’ll tell me I’m messing up even when I don’t want to hear it. 

    I’m grateful to know you and glad our friendship has lasted this long. I’m also happy I get free haircuts now because what’s the point of my best friend being my barber? 

    Emmanuel: You’ll soon start paying again. 

    I’m happy I know you. I’m happy your family has been warm and kind to me. And I’m excited to be that friend who’s rooting for you while you do cool stuff.

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


  • My Ex’s Brother Is My Best Friend — Joey and Akah
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Joey and Akah met in 2008 when Joey was dating Akah’s sister. On this week’s #ZikokoMyBro, they talk about why Akah thought Joey was fake when they first met, their surprise connection and picking sides after Joey’s break-up with Akah’s sister. 

    Let’s take a trip down memory lane

    Joey: We met in 2008 when I was still dating your sis. She introduced you to me as her “overprotective brother”. She’d hyped you up as the guy who’d beat me if I fucked up. But then, you pulled up, and I was like, “Omo, if I racked with this guy, I’d definitely win.” 

    Akah: I won’t beat you up because I still want to follow you to eat banga at your mum’s place. 

    Joey: You’re a cute teddy bear who only pretends to like violence. The more I spoke to you about basketball the night we met, the more I realised you’re cool AF. We eventually turned your sister into a third wheel. 

    Akah: I might’ve laughed with you that night, but it didn’t mean I liked you. I told my sister to break up with you when we got home. 

    Joey: Guy, for real? 

    Trust issues and initial gragra 

    Akah: I don’t trust the guys my sister dates, so I didn’t trust you one bit. You moved like a player, and you were trying too hard to be liked with all your dead jokes and compliments. 

    Joey: Na wa o. I was extra because I genuinely wanted you to like me. 

    Akah: Exactly. And I could see the desperation. But my sister was so into you she made us hang out over and over again until I liked you. It was like when the radio rinses a song so bad you end up knowing the lyrics even though you can’t stand it. 

    Joey: So you’re calling me a Drake song? Well done. I knew I wanted to be friends with you from the start. But I was also scared of how we’d navigate my relationship with your sister. 

    The moment we became friends

    Akah: I was also avoiding being friends with my sister’s guy. What would happen if you guys broke up? Plus, I wasn’t looking for new friends, so what was the point? 

    But one day, our gist moved from basketball to our late dads, and for the first time, I felt a connection to you beyond bants. We’re both first sons who had to step up at a young age because we lost our dads. 

    Joey: I don’t even know how that gist happened because I never used to talk about growing up or my dad. It’s too painful for me, even after all these years. I’d rather use jokes to cover it up. 

    Akah: Are you telling me? 

    Joey: Guy, abeg. Talking to you about not crying when my dad died because I wanted to hold it together for my mum opened the floodgates. I can count on one hand how many times I’d cried before that moment. It was weird that I was opening up to my babe’s brother, but I rolled with it and made you my free therapist. 

    Akah: I didn’t mind. I love listening to people, and part of why I thought you were somehow before was because you only made jokes. Nothing about you sounded real. But talking about your family made you an actual human being to me. 

    This was until you broke my sister’s heart in 2011, and everything became so fucking complicated. 

    Joey: Oh, shit!

    Picking between my sister and her ex

    Akah: Imagine you breaking up with my sister just when I started to actually like you? Please, explain yourself. 

    Joey: That breakup was mutual, but somehow, I got labelled as the bad guy. Someone would think I cheated or did something bad. We just ran out of fuel. 

    Akah: And you couldn’t queue and refuel your relationship at NNPC? 

    Joey: I knew you’d say something stupid. I remember thinking, “Bruh, Akah is going to hate me now”. It was the first consequence I actually thought of when we were breaking up. 

    Akah: Then you should’ve stayed together for me. I was pissed when she told me sha. I was angry to see her in pain, but I was also mad that I would lose a friendship I hadn’t even wanted in the first place. Then I felt guilty because my sister had just ended a three-year relationship, and instead of me to ginger and go beat the guy up, I was worried about him too. 

    Joey: You actually love me, man. It’s cute. 

    Akah: No, I don’t. I was being a nice guy. But I also knew we couldn’t hang out or talk to each other for a while, so I avoided your calls and texts for about a month after the breakup. 

    Joey: I was so angry. It felt like I was being punished, and I actually wasn’t going to talk to you again, but all that anger disappeared when you texted me asking if you could come to watch a game at my place. I had to stop coming to your place because of her. We could hang out anywhere but there.

    Akah: I had to let things calm down and have my sister confirm it was okay before I contacted you. It was the right thing to do. She wasn’t completely fine with our friendship, but she knew we had our thing separate from her. 

    Joey: It was tricky, but our friendship was worth it. I’d lost a relationship I’d invested in. I wasn’t about to lose a friend too. 

    She’s married now, and you like her husband (not as much as me, though), so we can see it all worked out. Or would you have preferred if she married me? 

    Akah: Imagine me walking her down the aisle then coming over to stand behind you as your best man? That sounds like stress, bro. 

    Coming through for one another

    Akah: We’ve been friends for over ten years now. I can’t begin to pinpoint a time you came through for me. 

    Joey: So I’m a shitty friend? 

    Akah: You come for me a lot. That sounds wrong. Oh, yes, you come through for me a lot. 

    Joey: Even I was like, “I do what now?” 

    I know a moment I’ll pick, and that’s in 2020, when you made me your son’s godfather. I know it’s just bants in Nigeria, but that level of trust mattered to me. I’m unmarried and don’t have kids, so it’s like you made me a dad without having to pay school fees or feed the child daily. It’s the best blessing I could ask for. 

    Akah: We can change it anytime, so keep saying rubbish. 

    What holds our friendship together? 

    Akah: My therapist, for sure. I need somewhere to dump all your wahala when you’re done with me. It’s expensive, but it works. 

    Joey: Thank her for me. Trust is what holds our friendship together. I know you have my back, and I want to believe you know I have yours too. 

    I want you to know

    Joey: My mood automatically gets better every time I think about you. You’re the human version of drugs because you always have a way of making everyone around you feel better. It’s even more beautiful because you’re not doing it intentionally to get them to like you. It’s just your thing. I think that makes you an incredible person. 

    Akah: I agree, but I’m not a drug IJN (Amen). I’m really proud of how open you’ve become over the years. You’ve moved from someone who’d joke about a situation instead of addressing it. Humour is great, but sometimes, sitting in or addressing your other emotions is good. I’m glad you’ve learnt a lot from me, and I’ve made you a better man. I’m so proud of myself on your behalf. 

    Joey: LOL. You’re a clown, and that’s why I keep you around.

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


  • We’ve Been Friends For Six Years But Only Met Last Year — Desmond and Collins
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Desmond and Collins have just taken their six-year friendship from Instagram and texting to hanging out in real life. In this episode of #ZikokoMyBro, they talk about shooting friendship shots and becoming best friends over the internet, holding each other accountable when one messes up and how alcohol helped their first hangout.

    Let’s take a trip down memory lane 

    Desmond: We started talking in 2016 when I joined Instagram for the first time. I’d followed a bunch of bloggers I thought were cool, and you were one of them. You looked like you had sense, so I sent you a DM even though I didn’t know you. 

    Collins: I was trying to be polite when I responded to your DM. My first reaction was, “Hey, God. Why is this person disturbing me?” You were asking a bunch of questions, trying to get to know me, and I wasn’t here for it at all. 

    Desmond: That’s why I carried our conversation for the first couple of weeks. See, I was very shameless and direct with my friendship shot. I had a goal, and I was going to achieve it. Period. 

    Collins: A part of me wondered if I was cool enough to have someone shoot a friendship shot at me, but I rolled with it. 

    Our conversations didn’t have structure, but they worked 

    Desmond: The more we spoke, the more I realised we had much in common, even if our conversations were random AF. We talked about any and everything from work to the Billboard Music Charts. After a few months, we even moved past “Hi” and “Hello”. It was just hot gist after hot gist. 

    Collins: With you, I didn’t have to start thinking if you’d care for the gist I was bringing. It was just seamless. This made us close even though we only chatted online. 

    Desmond: Exactly. It had to be seamless for us to maintain our friendship for six years without seeing each other. 

    Our friendship has travelled from Port Harcourt to Ilorin to Ibadan to Lagos, and now, Ghana

    Desmond: When we started talking, I was in Port Harcourt trying to get into school while you were in school in Ilorin. I remember you moved to Ibadan for your IT, but we were facing financial challenges so we couldn’t actually plan to travel and see each other. By the time I secured the bag and moved to Lagos, you’d moved to Ghana. We kept missing each other. 

    There are limitations to having a long-distance friend. Many things happened in my life that I wished you were around to witness in real-time. Texting and calling are great, but I’d rather go to a party with you than gist you about a party I attended. 

    Collins: People talk about love languages in romantic relationships, but for me, it’s the same for my friendships. For me, it’s physical touch and quality time, so having a best friend I couldn’t do these things with was very somehow. 

    We communicated a lot, but as more time passed, I knew we had to fix our distance. 

    Desmond: Seeing you was important to me too. So many cool things happened for me in 2022, so I said, “Fuck it”, meeting you had to happen as soon as possible. 

    Planning our first hangout, anxiety and alcohol 

    Collins: Planning to finally see each other took about one week, and you handled everything. I was planning to stay back in Accra after exams, to get an internship or something, but you were like, “No, you’re coming to Lagos”. I was nervous when I packed my load, boarded my flight and landed in Nigeria. I kept thinking, “Is this really happening?”

    You gave me the longest and tightest hug when I got out of the cab at your place. But all I was thinking was, “Damn, Desmond is fucking tall.” I thought you were my height? 

    Desmond: I cosplay as a short man to lower people’s expectations so they can be impressed when they realise I’m way taller than they expected. 

    I wanted you to come in December [2022] because I was finally in a good place with a spacious apartment, a social life and friends I knew you’d like. I know you’re shy, so I lowkey planned your arrival to fall on the day I had a party at my house, so there’d be a lot of alcohol. 

    Collins: Wow. Were you nervous? 

    Desmond: For just a moment right before you arrived, I thought about us not getting along in person. But I wasn’t really bothered by it because we’d been talking too long for it not to work. You know all my tea, from my sex life to how much I have. Last last, we’d join our heads together and figure it out. 

    But just in case things got awkward we did some drugs and downed alcohol at the party. By the night’s end, you were dancing shirtless in just a pair of shorts. 

    We’re sensitive people, so we avoid looking for each other’s trouble

    Collins: We’ve never fought because I know the things that’ll piss you off, and I avoid them. 

    Desmond: Same. We’re both really sensitive that the chances of offending each other are high, but we’re conscious about avoiding them. I used to drag Taylor Swift, but you’re a stan, so I’ve stopped. That’s how you know a good friend. LOL.

    We’re also very clear about how we feel about things. I always tell you when you’re doing something I don’t like. It’s a plain “I don’t like this thing. Please, don’t do it again” conversation. Like when you get high and start talking a lot. Once you start, I pinch you like a Nigerian mother so you can adjust yourself. 

    Collins: It wasn’t a big deal because I understood your intention.

    Desmond: Exactly. I’d want someone to do that for me if the case was reversed and I was misbehaving because of alcohol. We make sure our communication lines are open and direct. 

    He came through for me

    Desmond: You come through for me a lot, but off the top of my head, I can pinpoint two situations that stick out to me. You were one of the few people who stuck by me and helped me get through life after I came out to my mum. One day, she flogged me with a belt. I called you that night crying on the phone. You gave me a safe space. 

    Another time was in 2021, when I did something messed up. I called you to talk about it, and you clearly pointed out that I’d fucked up. Not a lot of friends do that. Not having people to hold you accountable is how you become a horrible person. 

    Collins: I hate knowing you’re in pain, so I’m always in action mode when it comes to you. LOL. I also try not to judge you while being as honest as possible, because that’s what we do. 

    You did the same thing for me in 2019 when I dropped out of university in my final year. Things were going to shit, and I couldn’t do it anymore. My mum hung up when I called to tell her, and everyone around me kept asking why I didn’t just endure. But with you, it was different. 

    You didn’t belittle my feelings or decision. You asked what I needed and even helped me research new schools before I ended up at my current school. I wouldn’t have made it through that period without you. 

    Desmond: I’d dropped out of school before, so I understood that bugging you at that time would only fuck things up. It was from a “How did I want to be treated when I made my own choice” POV. I wanted to be there for you, but only in the way you wanted me to be. I was there to listen and help you explore your options, not add more stress to your plate. 

    What makes this friendship different for us

    Desmond: I don’t need to hold back when sharing my thoughts. In some friendships, some things are too much to talk about, but not with you. I can’t be anything but who I am when I’m with you. 

    Collins: Mehn, you know everything about me. Even the things I’ve forgotten, you know them. I overthink things a lot when interacting with other people because I’m not good with words, but with you, it’s just easy to talk. 

    What I’d change about you

    Desmond: I wish you’d see yourself the way I see you. You underrate yourself a lot, and I have to constantly remind you that you’re the shit. 

    Collins: I can only fix something that’s broken. There’s nothing I’d change when it comes to you or our friendship. 

    I want you to know

    Desmond: We profess love to each other every day. But I’m always grateful I get to do life with such a wonderful person by my side. It feels good to have a friendship I feel this confident in. 

    Collins: If there’s one thing I thank God for whenever I get to talk to Him, it’s you. You make everything so easy and beautiful. I’m glad I get to be a part of your life, and you get to be part of mine. I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world. 

    Desmond: Not even Beyoncé Renaissance tickets? 

    Collins: Hell, no. But maybe Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour tickets.

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


  • We Hooked Up Before We Became Best Friends — Edem and Chide
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Chide and Edem are best friends who started out as fuck buddies. In this episode of #ZikokoMyBro, they talk about why they decided to stop having sex, the time Edem rescued Chide out of a toxic relationship and why a relationship between both of them can never work.

    Let’s take a trip down memory lane 

    Chide: We met in 2020 when we tried to have sex but you couldn’t get it up. 

    Edem: God, abeg. Is that how you want to start? Now, everyone will think I have erectile dysfunction or something. Please, tell the whole story because I’m still on the streets, and I don’t need people thinking I can’t blow their backs out. 

    Chide: We met on a hookup app after they lifted the lockdown in 2020. I was bored with a sprinkle of horniness, so I started chatting with you, and luckily for both of us, you didn’t live far from me. 

    Edem: Imagine if you ended up being a catfish? I was ready to chase you with a cutlass. 

    Chide: When last did you see a cutlass in real life? 

    Edem: Fair enough. So we tried to have sex, but I was nervous AF. 

    Does FIFA work as viagra? 

    Chide: I really don’t get why you were nervous. It was frustrating and hilarious at the same time because you looked like you wanted to die. 

    Edem: I wanted to bury myself in the ground. But I also didn’t want to give up, so I asked you to play FIFA with me so we could get comfortable. It worked because we ended up smashing in between the game. Hallelujah. 

    Chide: So FIFA is your viagra? Interesting. 

    Transitioning from fuck buddies to regular buddies 

    Edem: We started hanging out regularly after that. We were hooking up, but we also started getting close. I’d just moved back to Nigeria and didn’t have a lot of gay friends, so our friends-with-benefits situation was heavy on the friendship part. You just got me. 

    Chide: My dear, I was giving you the Nigerian LGBTQ+ orientation. That one is more important than the NYSC camp you went to. We stopped hooking up around 2021, right? 

    Edem: Yeah, We became so comfortable with each other that the sex got weird. I remember the last time we tried. It was like the first time all over again, but worse. We were laughing like mumus, and no one could get anything done. 

    Chide: See, choosing not to have sex with you again wasn’t a hard decision, no offence. 

    Edem: Plenty of offences have been taken, Chide. You clearly don’t rate me, and now I know. 

    Chide: Guy, rest. LOL. I’d started talking to someone who wanted a relationship towards the end of 2021, so what was the point? 

    Edem: And where is that relationship today? That’s the same relationship that made me reassess our friendship. Your choice in men is the ghetto. 

    Chide: Like you weren’t one of those men. 

    Trouble in paradise? 

    Edem: Please, explain why you kept avoiding me and hiding me from your boyfriend? The whole thing really pissed me off. I didn’t want to say anything at first so no one would call me a bad belle, but even when I did, you didn’t take me seriously.

    Chide: I didn’t tell him about you because I wasn’t sure what we were. We were friends who’d hooked up, and I knew he wouldn’t like it. 

    Edem: That should’ve been your first red flag, but your shades were too thick. He didn’t need to like our friendship. The worst part is you started acting differently. You used to be “in your face”, which helped me accept myself as a gay man too. But you went into a shell with him and started moving like a boring straight man.  

    It felt like a betrayal because you helped me come out, only for you to now go back into the closet. We were still friends but only saw each other at general hangouts. We didn’t get to hang out on our own until I convinced our other friends to stage an intervention. 

    Staging an intervention and getting through heartbreak

    Chide: I remember the intervention lunch at your place. It looked like you guys watched the video for Girl by Destiny’s Child and decided to recreate it. I hadn’t heard from you in a while, so I didn’t know what to expect when you invited me over. I saw you and our other friends and knew shit was real. 

    LOL. It’s all jokes now, but omo, I needed to be saved. 

    It’s easy to say, “It can never happen to me”, until you find yourself cutting off your friends and dressing a certain way just to make some guy comfortable. 

    Edem: People stage interventions for drug addicts, but your own had to be different. We had to call a meeting on top of your matter because of man. Chai. Are you proud of yourself? 

    Chide: I left that relationship a mess. I don’t think I would’ve left or survived without you reminding me daily that I was loved. We were friends already, but that’s when I realised you’d become my personal person. 

    Edem: Look at me getting my flowers. I showed up at your house with either shawarma, pizza or ice cream (sometimes, all three) every other day after work, so I definitely deserve “friend of the year”. 

    We can never have a sexual relationship again

    Chide: If I’m being honest, just for a brief moment, I did reconsider you and me again after that breakup. You were there for me, and we got each other, so I thought, “Why the fuck not?” 

    Edem: You did? I don’t think it would’ve worked out, but I’m curious to know why you didn’t say anything. 

    Chide: I knew it would end in tears. LOL. I love you as a friend, but I genuinely don’t think I’m attracted to you romantically or sexually (at least, not anymore). I only considered it because I was lonely and you were there, but I’m comfortable with what we have. As a matter of fact, I love it. If we do anything else, we’ll be fucking up a good thing. 

    I didn’t leave a toxic relationship to end up with a guy who snores. Did they swear for me? 

    Edem: You won’t see the pearly gates of heaven for this thing you just said. But I agree. I can take a bullet, like a small skin-wound-only bullet, for you because I love you as a friend. I doubt I’d do that if we were dating. You and I would fight all the time and start resenting each other. 

    If I could change something about you 

    Chide: We’d always fight each other because you don’t know how to talk.

    Edem: Why am I catching strays? I know where this is going. 

    Chide: I know it’s from a place of love, but guy, sometimes, you’re too blunt. There’s a way you can tell someone the truth without them feeling like they’re being dragged. I’m used to it, sha. 

    Edem: I was raised in a family where my parents said it as it was and rubbed off on me. But I’m trying to be better now. These days, I do a lot of mental gymnastics before I say shit. I also apologise when I feel like you’re offended. You know I love you, right? 

    Chide: No, I don’t. Do I even know you? LOL. 

    I want you to know 

    Edem: As annoying as you are, I can’t imagine my life without you. We met when I was really hiding from the world because I was scared for my life as a gay man in Nigeria. Knowing you has helped me understand that shit is dangerous here, but it doesn’t mean I should cower in fear. You’ve helped me become comfortable in my queerness, and I love you for it. 

    Chide: Alexa, play Lady Gaga’s Born This Way

    Edem: Why are you like this? 

    Chide: I love you too, Edem. You can be a lot sometimes, but I’d rather have a lot of you than none of you. 

    Edem: Bars! Nicki Minaj and Jay Z are in the mud. 

    Chide: Who would I share this many pop culture references with if I didn’t have you around? You’re the real love of my life. At least, until I meet another hot guy and make you number two again. Love you for life, babes. 


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

    Brought to you by LOVE LIFE

  • My Parents Don’t Approve of Our Friendship — Osagie and Raymond
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Osagie and Raymond have been friends since they fought and got beat up by a bully when they were eight years old. In this episode of My Bro, they talk about bonding as children and why Raymond’s parents are no longer in support of their friendship. 

    Our origin story

    Osagie: My first recollection of you was in 2009 when your family moved into our neighbourhood in Port Harcourt. I remember being eight years old and wondering how rich your family was to have not one but three gigantic “jeeps”. I saw you once or twice, walking with your maid, and I knew you were an ajebo to the core. 

    Raymond: Why would you start this thing by telling everyone I’m an ajebo? My reputation is on the line here, my guy. 

    My family used to move a lot because my dad was a professor, so it was mostly me and whichever maid we had. I was an only child, and they were my only friends. 

    I saw you too because we lived opposite each other, but I was very shy to talk to you. LOL. It wasn’t until school started that we finally started talking. 

    When we became friends 

    Raymond: Apparently, our parents gisted one time, and it had come up that you and I would be in the same school and class that year, so they agreed that our driver would pick you up every morning, and we’d go together. We did that shit for almost two weeks before we even started talking. 

    Osagie: What did you expect? I was mad intimidated at the time. New kid with fancy everything? I didn’t want to overdo it. I remember it was when we both had to fight this guy two classes above us that we finally cracked the wall. I couldn’t allow some bully to beat my carpool partner, so I stepped in, and we both received the beating of our lives. 

    Raymond: LOL. Plus, another round at home. 

    It was a long time ago, but I remember feeling a certain way that you were willing to stand with me to fight a bully, knowing fully well we’d get our ass beat. I think this was when everything changed, and we became guys. The car rides stopped being silent from then on.

    Osagie: We became inseparable after that one fight. We ended up going to the same secondary school, and we couldn’t spend 24 hours away from each other. It was insane. Fun fact: I saw the guy we fought recently, and he’s married. 

    Getting separated by life 

    Raymond: Omo, our life was good until my parents had to move again in 2014, when we were in JSS 3. 

    Osagie: Dark times, my brother. 

    Raymond: I thought Port Harcourt was it, but that year, they just broke the news that we had to pack our lives and move again. I was so fucking devastated. I’d built a life there with you and our other friends. The thought of starting all over again just made me depressed. 

    Osagie: I don’t know which broke me the most, losing you or my free ride to school. 

    Raymond: Wow! Men are truly scum. 

    Osagie: Okay, seriously, it was hard for me too. We had other friends, but it was always you and me. We’d been together since I was eight. I wasn’t sure I knew who I was without you. 

    Raymond: Stop using these dead lines you use on your babes, abeg. 

    Moving to Kaduna was tough. I was angry all the time, and frustrated. It didn’t help that my parents were distant as usual. For them, it’s all about work and Jesus; everything else is by the way. Talking to you constantly got me through most of it. 

    Osagie: Shebi their love for Jesus is why they banned you from interacting with me. 

    Raymond: Ewo. You’ve chosen violence. 

    Moving back to Port Harcourt and falling out with Raymond’s parents

    Osagie: In 2016, while you were away in Kaduna, I lost my dad, and my life changed. I was very close to him; his death made me question a lot about life, one of those things being religion. My dad was the most devout Christian I knew, and for the longest time, he kept asking God for healing while he battled cancer. But nothing happened. 

    I wasn’t really into religion, but my dad’s death had me considering whether or not I still believed in God. By the time I got into university, I knew I’d become an atheist. Your parents weren’t exactly thrilled to hear that about their son’s best friend. 

    Raymond: A whole deacon and deaconess? Guy, let’s be serious here. 

    I hated that I couldn’t be there for you in person when your dad died. But I was excited when my dad retired and decided it was time to move back to Port Harcourt. Moving back meant I had my manchi back, but then the whole atheist thing got to my parents, and shit hit the fan for real. 

    Osagie: I don’t precisely recall what led to what, but I know I said something about being an atheist, and your dad was there. His face changed immediately, and I knew he didn’t like it. I had the chance to backtrack when he and your mum spoke to me about a week later, but I maintained that I was an atheist, and they asked me to never come to the house or talk to you again. 

    It’s crazy how people I’d known since I was eight were so quick to shut me out because I didn’t share their beliefs. They’ve known me all my life. 

    Raymond: I was shocked when they told me. I knew they’d freak out, but I didn’t think they’d ban us from hanging out. I talked to them, and it was the first time I had a big fight with my parents.

    Osagie: That’s not what I wanted. 

    Raymond: But it was necessary. I told them that banning you from the house was fine since it’s their house, but asking us not to be friends was impossible. They went on and on, but I’d made up my mind. I hate to admit it, but I’m still disappointed in them. 

    Osagie: They don’t want me to spoil you. LOL. 

    Raymond: If only they knew I’m the spoilt one in this friendship. Thank God, we’ll soon finish university and get our own place. All this wahala will end. 

    Why this friendship is important regardless of religion

    Raymond: You’re the first friend I ever had. I was lonely for a long time as an only child, but then we moved, and I met you. We’re more than friends at this point. We’re like twins. There’s no way I’d let all that history go because of what my parents wanted. 

    Osagie: I feel the exact way. I had siblings (before they drag me on socials), but I didn’t have actual friends. You changed that, Raymond. You’ve stuck by me from primary school fights to adulting stress. 

    Raymond: Ride or die for life. 

    Osagie: Please, who is dying with you? Not me. 

    If I could change something about you

    Raymond: Please, open up more, my guy. I always have to force you to tell me what’s going on, like when your dad died, and you were struggling. It’s okay to not say, “Fine” when I ask how you’re doing. 

    Osagie: But you know I’m trying. 

    Me, I need you not to take life so seriously. You’re cracking jokes now, but you’re always carrying face and forming deep on a normal day. Fix that, bro. 

    Raymond: Have you met my parents? Chilling is not in my blood, abeg. 

    I want you to know 

    Osagie: No long talk, guy; you know I love you, right? 

    Raymond: I do. 

    Osagie: That’s all I want to say. Full stop. 

    Raymond: Actually, me too. I love you, and I’m sure you know it, so full stop. 


  • My Bro: 8 of the Must-Read Stories of 2022
    My Bro is a weekly Zikoko series we started to interrogate and celebrate male friendships of different forms, and boy, have we done that this past year.

    From friendships built on heartbreak and beer to friends learning how to open up and accept love because of each other,, we’ve shared many brostories (you’re free to laugh) since we launched in April. But out of all the crazy and fun stories, here are the eight bromances you all couldn’t get enough of.

    1) I Didn’t Know How to Say ‘I Love You’ Until I Met You — Adesegun and Demi

    When Adesegun and Demi met for the first time over five years ago, their interaction was what anyone, especially Demi, would describe as a hot mess. However, listening in on their conversation now, it’s hard to think of a time when these two weren’t obsessed with each other. In their friendship, the “I love yous” flow freely and without hesitation as I watch them remind themselves of just how much they mean to each other. 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about the transition from hatred to friendship, bonding over the losses in their lives, accepting each other’s differences and how this friendship has made them more receptive to love. 

    2) I Can Count on You and Know That I’ll Be Okay — Muyiwa and BFG

    While there might be a little confusion over when Muyiwa and BFG met for the first time, their unique bond and friendship is as clear as day. Connecting over beer, Twitter jokes, career moves and heartbreak, these two, over the past decade, have successfully built their friendship on a foundation of honesty and humour.

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about why they’re the closest within their friend group, what people don’t understand about their friendship and why sometimes all you need after a bad breakup is your bro and a bottle of beer. 

    3) I Can’t Wait for the World to See You the Way I See You — Brian and EL

    People often say, “Distance makes the heart grow fonder”, but listening to Brian (in Enugu) go back and forth on a virtual call with EL (in Abuja), I’m convinced distance had little to do with the strong bond these men share. A casual encounter over ten years ago created a relationship built on the foundation of honesty, humour and love that runs real deep. Brian and EL aren’t just friends, they’re practically brothers or, as EL likes to say, “Twins”.

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about being each other’s soulmate, the depressive episode that threatened their friendship and the day they almost died.

    4) Our Friendship Is Perfect Because You’re Stable and I’m Chaotic — Nnamdi and Yela

    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. 

    5) You Helped Me Fall Back in Love With Filmmaking — Dare and Kayode

    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. 

    6) Amebo Is the Glue That Holds Our Friendship Together — Foluso and Gbolahan

    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. 

    7) You Push Me to Accept I Deserve Better — Astor and Hassan

    Astor and Hassan met five years ago, working as writers at Zikoko. Their friendship and chemistry was so popular that they got their own show: Astor and Hassan vs The World. But while they’re both famous for making other people laugh, Astor and Hassan have had major bad days they only survived because they had each other. 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about posting funny memes as a cry for help when life gets hard, supporting each other through relationship drama and managing the weight of people’s expectations. 

    8) Our Fighting Has Only Brought Us Closer — Stephen and Pamilerin

    Stephen and Pamilerin started talking on social media five years ago, and now, they’re best friends who run a popular restaurant in Lagos. In this episode of My Bro, they talk about understanding each other’s love language, handling fights about work and how Pamilerin’s recent marriage has affected their friendship.



    Find all the bromance stories we covered in 2022 here.

  • My Bro: 8 of the Most-Read Stories of 2022
    My Bro is a weekly Zikoko series we started to interrogate and celebrate male friendships of different forms, and boy, have we done that this past year.
    From friendships built on shared loss to friends who haven’t seen each other for over a decade, we’ve shared many brostories (you’re free to laugh) since we launched in April. But out of all the crazy and fun stories, here are the eight bromances you all couldn’t get enough of. 

    1) I’m Difficult to Deal With, But You’re Always Around — Ajibola and Oli

    Oli Ekun and Ajibola Grey have a friendship almost as hilarious as the skits that have made them trending names within Nigeria’s bustling pop culture scene. Connecting over their mutual love of humour and rarely passing over a chance to drag each other for filth, these two understand that to do their jobs, they’ll need to be each other’s ride or die (Ajibola might not feel comfortable with dying, though). 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about being friends online for a year before meeting in person, navigating a friendship in which no one wants to be the serious friend and how they plan to share their money as business partners. 

    2) We Push Each Other Because We Don’t Want to Be Broke — Anny and Victor

    Anny and Victor are all about the hustle. The self-proclaimed workaholics can’t go two seconds without talking about work, and while it may be annoying to some, it’s super inspiring to me. They both understand the unique struggles of being creatives in a country like Nigeria. And that ginger to be the best at what they do is what forges the bond they have as friends. One is always around to motivate or drag the other person. If this isn’t bromance, I don’t know what it is. 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about why Anny had Victor on a beef list when they first met, pushing each other to be the best version of themselves and whether or not they’d even be friends if they weren’t in the same industry. 

    3) Our Fighting Has Only Brought Us Closer — Stephen and Pamilerin

    Stephen and Pamilerin started talking on social media five years ago, and now, they’re best friends who run a popular restaurant in Lagos. In this episode of My Bro, they talk about understanding each other’s love language, handling fights about work and how Pamilerin’s recent marriage has affected their friendship. 

    4) Our Long Distance Friendship Brought Us Closer — Caleb and Mofe

    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 reunited them after eight years. 

    5) I Can Count on You and Know That I’ll Be Okay — Muyiwa and BFG

    While there might be a little confusion over when Muyiwa and BFG met for the first time, their unique bond and friendship is as clear as day. Connecting over beer, Twitter jokes, career moves and heartbreak, these two, over the past decade, have successfully built their friendship on a foundation of honesty and humour.

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about why they’re the closest within their friend group, what people don’t understand about their friendship and why sometimes all you need after a bad breakup is your bro and a bottle of beer. 

    6) We Became Friends Because I Was Trying to Beat You at FIFA — Bamiji and Tomiwa

    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. 

    7) We’re Best Friends Who Didn’t See Each Other For 13 Years — Okiki and Tobi

    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.

    8) You Completely Changed the Trajectory of My Life — David and Dayo 

    David and Dayo have known each other for over a decade. They started out as acquaintances in secondary school, lived together in university, and now work in the same office. In this episode of My Bro, they both talk about how they became friends, what they learnt from living together and the big fight that almost destroyed their friendship years ago. 


    Find all the the bromance stories we covered in 2022 here.

  • Our Fighting Has Only Brought Us Closer — Stephen and Pamilerin
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Stephen and Pamilerin started talking on social media five years ago, and now, they’re best friends who run a popular restaurant in Lagos. In this episode of My Bro, they talk about understanding each other’s love language, handling fights about work and how Pamilerin’s recent marriage has affected their friendship. 

    Our origin story

    Stephen: I can’t remember how we met, but I know it happened on social media around 2018. I thought we’d remain random mutuals on Instagram. But look at us now. 

    Pamilerin: It’s weird because I can’t remember either. One minute, you were this guy I knew on social media; the next thing, we’re taking trips and running a business together. And I’m like, “Who’s this annoying man I’m doing all this nonsense with?” But I know if I leave you now, you’ll tell everyone I forced this friendship by thunder and fire. 

    First impressions 

    Pamilerin: Before you say anything, I know you didn’t like me at first. You saw me as this annoying, lousy social media influencer who did everything for clout. That’s what you and your clique thought about me for a long time. Or am I lying? 

    Stephen: Actually, that’s everyone’s first impression when they see you on social media. It’s not like I hated you. There was a time I felt you were the most hated man on Twitter. You were doing too much, so I didn’t see us being friends. 

    But I got to know you outside of social media, and everything changed. 

    Pamilerin: Unlike you, I’m a good person, so I don’t judge people until I meet them in person.

    Stephen: Why are you lying? 

    Pamilerin: I remember you invited me to your house once, back when you used to cook and invite your friends over for food. Not now, because you’re too lazy. I came over, and the food was really good. That was my first impression of you. I liked you because of your food. 

    When we became friends

    Stephen: We became good friends after a big fight in 2019. I’m trying to remember what it was about because we fight a lot, but I know I had an event after, and you didn’t come or post about it on your page. That made me angrier, and I finally accepted my first impression of you was accurate. I wasn’t going to talk to you again. But we later sat down to talk about what happened, and the next thing I knew, we were planning our first trip together — a trip where we fought almost every day, starting from the airport. 

    Fights are supposed to separate people, but our fights brought us together and made us friends. 

    Pamilerin: I remember that trip. We fought because you came to the airport late. And then, we fought about how to share the hotel room between us. LOL. I’ve never fought with anybody like I’ve fought with you. People always think these fights will end our friendship, but they never do. 

    I can’t pinpoint when we really became friends, but I’ll say we’re in this friendship-fighting relationship that should typically lead to marriage, but I’m already married, so you have to find someone else. 

    We still come back to each other, no matter what

    Stephen: We have more misunderstandings than actual fights, which happen often because we have to make decisions together as business partners. You’re very nonchalant about things, so when I’m hyped about a project, you have this annoying “meh” attitude. You even annoyed me 40 minutes before this chat. 

    But none of these things changes the fact that you’re my go-to person. You’re more than a friend; you’re my brother. I can’t end my relationship with my brother because of a fight, no matter how annoying they are. I know how far you can push my buttons, and it’s not to a place where I feel the need to walk away entirely.

    Pamilerin: Awww. I know you’re a very caring person. You put up this “hard guy” front, but you’re a baby. We’re both strong-headed and act like we don’t care about anything, but after every fight, we’re dying to talk to each other. Our ego is what gets in the way most times. 

    I tell you everything. I don’t even have this relationship with some of my siblings. My wife knows if she’s on a call with me and you call, I’d have to call her back. LOL. You’re the only person I do that for. Our parents know each other. No matter the issue, you’re still the one I’ll call at first sight of trouble or panic.  

    Stephen: It’s also great that we don’t need a third party to settle our issues. All one of us has to do is send a meme or something, and we’re talking again. LOL. If it’s really serious, we’ll sit down and explain each other’s point of view and try to move on from there. 

    I’m more understanding now because I’ve realised when I think you’re nonchalant, you’re actually multitasking. We get to understand more about each other after each fight. 

    Starting a business together 

    Stephen: I had the idea to open a restaurant as soon as I left culinary school. You kept popping up in my mind whenever I thought of a business partner to work with, and we weren’t even close at the time. Starting La Cibo in 2020 definitely solidified our friendship. 

    Pamilerin: I remember you sent me that long epistle asking if I wanted to be your partner. I’m not sure I read everything, but I replied with, “What’s the cost?” Then you typed another shalaye before you finally said it’d cost ₦3m. It sha ended up being more than that *side-eyeing you*. 

    Your message came when I wanted to try something new.  

    Stephen: Starting this business with you was one of my best decisions. It feels good to know I’m not alone when things get rough and that my business partner cares. Other people can look from the outside, but you’re in it with me. 

    Understanding love languages and coming through for each other

    Pamilerin: One of the things I cherish about you is you understand my love language. I like gifts, no matter how small. I say it a lot, but aside from you and my wife, no one else takes the time to get me stuff. It’s a plus that your gifts aren’t cheap. That’s how you gave me an iPad and $1000 for my last birthday. That’s the type of energy I like. 

    The most recent thing you did that really shook me was how you came through on my wedding day this year [2022]. We’d had one of our regular fights and weren’t talking to each other, but you still rallied all our friends, assigned tasks and made sure I could enjoy my day without worrying about anything. You always show up. 

    Stephen: Of course! Look, I’m thankful to God for bringing us together. You’re the kind of guy I can call in the middle of the night to say my car broke down, and you’ll show up. The moment I complain about being sad, or something like that, you’re on your way to cheer me up. I’m the one always telling you it’s not that serious. 

    No matter the situation, you’re always ready to inconvenience yourself to make sure I’m okay. 

    Getting married hasn’t changed our friendship 

    Pamilerin: My wife understands there’s her, and there’s you. I’m basically married to two people. She knows her elder wife, and she can’t fight him. LOL. I’m still the same guy. Nothing has changed for us. 

    Stephen: I don’t think you’ve changed. Plus, your wife is my G, so she’s never angry that I’m taking her husband’s time.  

    What we’d change about each other and our friendship 

    Stephen: When I’m going into a relationship with someone, I go into it knowing their flaws. I accept those flaws. But because I’m human, I’ll still complain about them sometimes. If I could change something about you, it would be your nonchalance. 

    In terms of our relationship, I want us to communicate more when something goes wrong and resolve it immediately instead of letting it drag. And we’re already working on that.

    Pamilerin: You’re really big on decision-making. You get upset when I don’t buy your ideas, and that’s when we start having our “marital issues.” I wish you’d allow someone else to take the wheel sometimes. 

    Also, I hold things back a lot. So I’m learning to talk about things immediately. We’re both working on it to make our friendship better.

    Fighting off haters together 

    Stephen: When we first became friends, I used to feel weird that you were always fighting people on Twitter, but you’ve indoctrinated me into your ways. I even gas you up these days and help you select the best clapbacks. 

    Pamilerin: LOL. 

    I want you to know 

    Pamilerin: You come through at all times. The way you always look out for me is really amazing. Most people don’t know this, but your input in our business is 90%. Outside, people are like, “It’s Pamile’s effort. It’s his restaurant,” But behind the scenes, you do all the work. I just come to the restaurant to eat free food once in a while. 

    I’ve never regretted having you as a friend or starting our business together. You can be annoying, but you’re a good person. I feel lucky to have you.

    Stephen: I’m crying. 

    I know I’m complicated, so I always thank people who are close to me for understanding me. I talk anyhow sometimes, but I appreciate that you don’t whine about it or use what I say against me. You take me for who I am. 

    You’ve also helped me build my brand to a point I wouldn’t have reached alone. I’m happy we met, and I’m grateful you’re my brother. 


  • I Was Worried You’d Be Lonely When I Left Nigeria — Michael and Demilade
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    The first time Demilade saw Michael in NYSC camp, he knew he wanted to be friends. Ten years later, they’re best friends who lived together but ended up separated thanks to japa syndrome. 

    In this episode of #ZikokoMyBro, they talk about letting their guards down to open up to each other, the accident that brought them closer and how they’ve maintained their friendship across two continents. 

    Our origin story

    Demilade: We met ten years ago in 2012 while we were both in NYSC camp. I remember you walked into one of the canteens in Maami Market with a friend of yours called Andrew, and I couldn’t stop staring at the both of you. Even though you guys were giving me bad eye, I decided in that moment I wanted to be friends with both of you. 

    Michael: We gave you bad eye? LOL. Andrew and I were wondering why you were staring at us. And we’d noticed you were always alone. 

    Demilade: I didn’t have any friends at the time. I wasn’t friends with the people from my university in camp, so it was just me. 

    After that canteen day, I saw you again by the field, watching something on your phone. I still don’t know what got into me because I’m normally shy, but I sat close to you and started asking questions about what you were watching. I could tell you were disgusted. 

    Michael: Not because I didn’t like you, but because you were asking so many questions, and I just wanted to watch my Vampire Diaries on my BlackBerry Bold 4 in peace. 

    Demilade: LOL. I sat with you sha, and when Andrew came, I followed you guys around. That was it. From then on, the three of us just kept hanging out. 

    Life after NYSC Camp

    Michael: Life outside of camp was tricky because you and Andrew weren’t that close, so I had to hang out with both of you separately, and it was exhausting. 

    Demilade: Becoming friends with Andrew was important to me too. I mean, I wanted to be friends with the BOTH of you when we met. 

    Michael: Wow. It took a while sha, but Andrew came around, and we became a group of three, hanging out all the time, going to restaurants and just chilling. It was NYSC service year, so we had time to have fun together. 

    The accident that brought us all closer

    Demilade: The first time I really felt connected to you as a friend was when we went swimming one afternoon in 2013. I have a lot of acquaintances, but having friends is hard for me because I can be very guarded and reserved. Hanging out with you and Andrew that day, I felt free and at ease. It wasn’t anything special. I just looked around and realised I wanted what we had to be long-term. 

    The second time it hit me that our friendship was genuine was when I had an accident. 

    Michael: That accident was the same time for me too!

    Demilade: Because of how private I was, you and Andrew didn’t know where I lived at the time. Since I wasn’t with my phone, and my family didn’t know both of you, there was no way they could tell you about my accident. All the time I was in the hospital, I kept wondering how you both would feel, thinking I’d just disappeared. 

    As soon as I was discharged, I got home and called you guys, crying. It was one of my most vulnerable moments, but it also helped me understand how important both of you were in my life. I realised you were my people. 

    Michael: I remember getting the call and being scared because you were crying. Before you called me, Andrew and I had talked about your disappearance. You’d mentioned leaving for Canada for your master’s, so we just thought that’s what happened, and in typical Nigerian fashion, you decided to do it silently. We expected a call after you settled, not about an accident. 

    I was very cranky that night and the following day, because family errands prevented me from coming to see you. I was very worried. We later came to your house; that’s how I finally knew where you lived and started coming over. 

    Living together 

    Michael: We lived together three different times. I stayed with you for three weeks in 2017 after moving to Lagos. Then there was the lockdown period in 2020 when I was looking for a new place to rent. And finally, in 2021, for three months while I waited for my UK visa. 

    After the accident, we’d gotten really comfortable with each other, and with Andrew moving to Canada in 2016, it was just the two of us. 

    Living with you showed me you’re a hard person to annoy, and people take advantage of that a lot. I didn’t want to be like that, so I was conscious of making sure I didn’t touch things without permission and kept everything back the way I saw it. But you just kept reminding me it was my house too. 

    Demilade: Having you over was exciting for my siblings and I. We had a very caged childhood. We didn’t have a lot of friends and never really invited anyone to our house. You moving in was something new, so I wanted to make you comfortable. But then, you were being so extra, washing the plates and things like that. 

    Whenever you did something wrong or forgot to put something back, I’d fix it myself. When I do that two or three times, you’d understand how it’s done, and it wouldn’t be a problem. I just wanted you to feel at home. I don’t know how to fight. 

    Michael: But sometimes, it’s necessary. It’s hard to be angry at someone who doesn’t get angry. Whenever I felt offended by something you did, I had no choice but to sulk and get over it as quickly as possible. There’s usually no point. 

    Japa separation 

    Demilade: Before you decided to leave Nigeria in 2021, I remember pushing you to do it because I could see you weren’t happy. Watching you apply to schools, try to get your visa, and everything else involved, helped me process your leaving, so it didn’t hurt as much when it finally happened. I was very sad because I realised I was the only one left, but It wasn’t a rude shock. 

    Michael: I was also worried you’d feel alone. That was my biggest fear, leaving you behind in Nigeria. I knew nothing would happen to our friendship, but I was scared of how lonely you’d feel. 

    Demilade: I’m okay. I don’t go out as much as we used to, but I’m doing my best to move on because I don’t like dwelling on things. 

    Michael: One thing I’ve noticed since I moved away is how often I talk about you and Andrew. Both of you are huge parts of my life, and everyone who knows me here has heard me mention you guys a lot of times. Both of you have also raised the standard when it comes to how I approach friendship. 

    He came through for me

    Demilade: When I had my accident in 2013. It wasn’t anything major, but before you and Andrew, I hadn’t felt love from people outside my family. The feeling that I was appreciated and important to people who weren’t related to me was strange in a good way.

    Michael: There have been too many times to count. I overthink people’s kindness, so accepting help is hard for me, even from my parents. I always need to do something in return. You’ve helped me understand how to accept kindness because I don’t have to repay anything to you. 

    I also can’t forget how you surprised me financially when I was getting ready to leave Nigeria. I didn’t expect that level of support at all. 

    What holds this friendship together

    Demilade: Love holds us together and is important in every relationship. 

    Michael: And effort, too, because no matter how much you love someone, if you don’t make an effort to be in their lives, your relationship won’t last. We both make that effort. I call you as often as possible to fill you in on what’s happening in my life. We still send each other our pictures to vet before posting them on social media. We’re both making a conscious effort to ensure our friendship works. 

    I want you to know

    Demilade: Thank you, Michael, for being there for me. Just knowing that someone has my back is very important to me. It makes me feel safe. 

    Michael: I appreciate you as a friend, Demilade. Please, why is this awkward? LOL. 

    I tend to get paranoid and overthink things, but you always find a way to calm me down and make me feel better. I really appreciate it. Thank you for being my additional brother since I even talk to you more than my real brother. 

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


  • Being Long-Distance Friends Works For Us — Adnan and Michael

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

    Adnan and Michael didn’t like themselves when they met at a job orientation four years ago — one was very serious, while the other just couldn’t be bothered about anything. Despite their differences, the two have become best friends, with Adnan finally in the running to become Michael’s best man. 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about why they prefer their long-distance friendship, how being in relationships affects it and why Adnan is tired of Michael’s always telling him to do the right thing. 

    Our origin story

    Adnan: We met for the first time in March 2018 at a three-week orientation for a job we both got. I was looking for someone with sense that I could sit with when I saw you in a corner, pressing your laptop like an oversabi. I thought, “Definitely not this guy”. Even when we spoke for the first time, I was convinced we wouldn’t be friends because nothing about us clicked. 

    Michael: That’s because I was focused on getting the most out of the orientation, and you were a spoiled brat who couldn’t be bothered with anything going on. We were supposed to submit a form at work, and you didn’t care about the deadline while I was rushing to make sure I submitted it on time. 

    Adnan: We already had the job. What’s the worst that could happen? 

    Michael: You see my point? We didn’t know we had the job then, and I thought it was better to be safe than sorry. The worst part was when I found out you were a level above me at work because you had a master’s degree. I was so pained because I knew you were unserious, and I was here doing all the right things.

    I also didn’t think we’d be friends until you saw me watching a movie once, and we started talking about it. That’s when I realised our thoughts on art aligned. 

    How we became friends 

    Adnan: After orientation, you got posted to Enugu while I remained in Abuja. About three days after we both resumed in our different offices, I calledyou on the office extension, and we talked about movies for three hours straight. We did it the next day, until it became part of our schedule to call each other to talk about movies. Was it joblessness? 

    Michael: LOL. We hadn’t been assigned proper roles at work; it was also the office landline, so it was free. We gave each other a list of films to see, and we’d talk about them at work. 

    Adnan: I still can’t believe you made me see “Phantom Thread”. That’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back. 

    Michael: It’s because you don’t have taste. 

    Adnan: I’ll say it didn’t really hit me that we’d become friends until there was distance between us. You know I can only take you in small doses, so our long-distance friendship is perfect. 

    Michael: True. That’s why we rarely fight. You’re irritating from afar, so it’s hard for me to get angry at you. But I got to know our friendship was real when I started talking about you to other people. It’s not like I was lonely in Enugu, I had friends and family, but somehow, they all got to know you because I kept mentioning your name. If I could talk about you that much, you’re important to me. 

    We’re working on understanding boundaries 

    Adnan: One frustrating thing about you is you’re a Mr Know-It-All, so it’s either your way or the highway. I could tell you I want to do something, and you’ll go on and on about how I’m making the wrong decision. But to me, I’m like, “Is it your life?” It sometimes feels like you’re controlling. Even though I know it’s coming from a place of love. 

    Michael: I’m not trying to be controlling. Yes, sometimes you have to make your own mistakes. But if I see someone I care about making a mistake, I feel obligated to talk to them about it. 

    You don’t want to admit you seek out my opinion because you know I’m a voice of reason. Deep down, you want me to stop you from making stupid decisions. Like the time you wanted to buy a new car you didn’t need, and I asked if you had any landed property to your name. 

    Adanan: Imagine. Such a triggering question to ask someone. You were right, sha. But you need to understand that sometimes I don’t want to do the right or sensible thing. I want to do or get something because it feels right at the moment. That’s why I don’t tell you some things until I’ve done them. You’re like my mum, and I’m sure that’s why both of you get along. 

    I got the land instead, and I haven’t told you before, but it was one of the best decisions I’ve made because the value has almost tripled since we had that conversation in 2018. 

    Michael: See my point? Anyway, I’m working on my approach to dealing with these things, and it’s not just with you. Instead of saying what I think as e dey hot, I try to have an actual conversation. You say you want to buy an expensive card holder? Interesting. So, let’s talk about it. I hope that in talking about it, you’ll figure out whether or not you really need it, as opposed to me just telling you it’s unnecessary. That’s how I look at the whole boundary thing now. I don’t push it anymore. 

    Navigating religion 

    Adnan: When we first got to know each other, religion used to come up because I’m a Muslim and you’re a Christian who doesn’t practice anymore. LOL. 

    There was even a time we spoke on the phone for about five hours about religion. Do you remember?

    Michael: What? I don’t remember. 

    Adnan: I don’t remember the full gist either. But now, we’re in a place where we don’t care that much about religion. There’s no need to argue or defend it. Our friendship isn’t built on religion, so it’s not a factor for us. Even though I lowkey feel you’d fit into Islam perfectly. 

    Michael: I don’t know how we got there, but okay. I generally don’t care about anyone else’s religion or beliefs, so I don’t bother going there with my conversations. 

    Navigating relationships and how they affect our friendship

    Adnan: We used to talk every single day until a while last year when we didn’t speak for a very long time because you got into a relationship. *side eye* 

    Michael: This long time you’re talking about was like a month o! And it’s not like we didn’t text each other during that period. 

    Adnan: Haba, it was longer than that. I remember I brought it up, but you kept denying it wasn’t because of your relationship. 

    Michael: The irony is you think my babe pulled me away from you, but whenever I’m with you, my babe thinks you’re pulling me away from her. Whenever I come to Abuja, she’s always like, “I know you won’t talk to me because you’re with Adnaan.” I called you my babe once, and she hasn’t let it go. LOL. 

    Adnan: Who’s your babe? Please, I’m in a committed relationship too. I don’t know you like that. 

    He came through for me

    Adnan: I rarely go through dark times, so last year [2021], when my mum had a stroke, it was a really hard period for me to process. I remember talking to you about it, and not long after, you flew into Abuja and saw my mum. You showing up like that to support me meant a lot. 

    Michael: Awww. But you know your mum is my mum too. I remember talking to her, and even though she was making light of the whole situation, she mentioned how hard it was on you and how you cried. It was crazy, but I’m glad she’s okay now. 

    When did you come through for me? Let me think. You haven’t come through for me yet o! You owe me a Liverpool jersey from the last time you travelled. 

    Adnan: You’ve forgotten all the stress I went through to get you an aquarium? 

    Michael: Oh, shit! LOL. Yes, I remember. The guy I got to make it was in Abuja, so you had to go on this long drive multiple times to check on him. I really appreciated you doing that for me because I know it’s not something you’d do on a normal day. You picked it up and sent it to me. I appreciated that. You do little things here and there. 

    What holds our friendship together

    Michael: Our mutual appreciation for film and the fact that we’re both open-minded keep this friendship together. I’m still waiting for the day you’ll make a film. You have a good eye for filmmaking. 

    Adnan: We’ll see. But yes, movies, art and photography hold our friendship together. 

    What we’d change about each other 

    Michael: I need you to be serious about life. You’re serious about selective things like Marvel films, but I need you to be serious about everything, this guy. 

    Adnan: Life is not that deep. 

    I wouldn’t change anything because I like you and all the baggage you come with; they’re what makes you, you. 

    Michael: The reason I want to change—

    Adnan: Oh, now you feel bad because I don’t want to change anything about you. You stupid cow. 

    Michael: LOL. I said I wanted you to be serious because you have a lot of potential you’re not exploring. If I say I want to make a film, I’d find a way to get it done no matter what, even if I have no idea how to run it. But you said you wanted to make a film, and we are still waiting to see something. The things you think are not that deep, imagine the things you’d do if you took them seriously.

    Adnan: You’re not wrong sha. I’m trying to change that. 

    I want you to know 

    Michael: I have this cousin who’s really important to me and really knows me. Every time I’ve imagined doing something important, like getting married, I’ve pictured him beside me. But now, when I think of a best man for my wedding (whenever it happens), I see you as an option. 

    Adnan: Wow. This feels like an Oscar nomination. 

    Michael: You’re not well. That’s how I can explain how important you are to me. 

    Adnan: Don’t worry, I’ll be the best, best man. I’ll do the job so well, you’ll forget about your cousin. 

    You already know I love you. That’s all I can say. 

    Michael: I love you too. 

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


  • From “Egbon” to Best Friends — Jerrie and Kunle
    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.


  • You Push Me to Accept I Deserve Better — Astor and Hassan
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Astor and Hassan met five years ago, working as writers at Zikoko. Their friendship and chemistry was so popular that they got their own show: Astor and Hassan vs The World. But while they’re both famous for making other people laugh, Astor and Hassan have had major bad days they only survived because they had each other. 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about posting funny memes as a cry for help when life gets hard, supporting each other through relationship drama and managing the weight of people’s expectations. 

    Our origin story

    Hassan: The year was 2017, and it was my first day at this media company known for doing exciting shit. I was the first to get to the Zikoko office at about 7:30 a.m., and as I waited for them to open the door, I saw you walk in looking stressed AF. My initial thought was, “It’s just 7:30. What could he be stressed about at this time of the day?” But before I could say anything, you saw me and ran away. 

    Astor: I thought the FIRS had finally come for me — like taxes and shit — I was like, what the fuck is going on? That’s why I ran.  

    Hassan: To be fair, I tucked in my shirt and wore proper shoes, so it makes sense that you ran away. When people started trickling into the office, you came back, and we started gisting. That’s when I realised you were a writer like me. But one thing that kept going through my mind was, “Why does this guy’s writing sound so white?” I thought, maybe, you went to school abroad, so imagine my shock when you said you went to the University of Ilorin. 

    I thought you were random and interesting. 

    Astor: Wow. 

    First impressions and trauma bonding

    Hassan: I thought you were nice and warm when I met you. Work was really alienating. You were the one welcoming person, putting me through the work process. I’d never used WordPress or had to design and source images, but you were patient and helpful with all that. You were also easy to talk to. And out of the four writers we had at the time, you were the funniest. 

    Astor: I thought you looked like a tired old soul, not the 23 year-old you were supposed to be. But I liked that you got my sense of humour because it’s not an easy sell. 

    Like you said, those were tough times. I talked to you about work as we walked to the bus stop the day after you resumed. I was hired about a month before you, but even though I had ideas, I still struggled as a writer. Most of our conversations after that first walk revolved around our struggles at work with trying to create content that slapped and managing the expectations of our bosses back then. 

    Hassan: Bro, it was a lot. It’s fair to say we did trauma bonding because you and I were the only writers who worked from the office at the time. 

    Astor: You were my rock back then because, even though it’s corny, all we had was each other. 

    Blurring the lines between work and personal shit

    Astor: I didn’t keep track of when we became friends because I believe we clicked almost immediately. 

    Hassan: I feel the same way. However, I think our friendship hit me when Zikoko shut down temporarily in 2017, but we still hung out. There was a time I worked as a pharmacist with a psychiatric hospital, and you showed up to check on me even though you’re terrified of hospitals. 

    Astor: See! After we returned to Zikoko, we spent all our time in the office and with each other. There was no line between friend and coworker anymore. The line just stopped existing. 

    Hassan: That’s what happens when you spend like 12 hours of your day with someone. 

    I’ve always been confident that we’d be friends, even if we didn’t work together. You’re hilarious AF! I love  and relate to your out-of-pocket tweets. I just can’t put them out myself because of how I’ve curated my social media presence.

    Astor: — Of this deep guy who reads Aristotle and shit like that. 

    Hassan: I don’t think it’s a pretend personality. I’m very introspective when I’m alone, but I’m lively and funny when I’m with people. Because I’m almost always alone, that’s when most of my tweets go out, so it doesn’t always match the personality people who’ve met me know. 

    But I start getting worried about you when I see you posting jokes continuously. I immediately know something is wrong. 

    Humour as a coping mechanism and learning to be vulnerable

    Hassan: I’ve come to realise that you’re avoidant. If no one asks what’s going on with you, there’s a high chance you won’t tell them. Even when they ask, you’ll start with like five funny memes before segueing into the real problem. The funnier I get, the more shit I’m going through. So who knows? Maybe I’m just projecting, but I don’t think I’ve ever been wrong when it comes to you. 

    You could be dying in the hospital, and no one would know because you’re posting funny meme after meme. 

    Astor: You’re not wrong. And you were the first to clock that my jokes are a cry for help. The minute I start posting like crazy, you’re there to ask how I’m doing. I literally did it yesterday, and you checked up on me. 

    I have no idea why I use jokes to escape life, but it’s something I’ve always done since I was a child. I find this pattern easier. Also, maybe I’m being selfish, but making people feel good, even when I don’t feel good myself, makes me feel better. 

    When people message me about how my memes or articles make them laugh, it’s like a small dose of heroin to my brain that lasts for approximately six minutes, and then, I’m mentally back to where I started. Feels like I’m chasing the highs of a drug and I can’t reach it. 

    Hassan: I don’t want to sound like a therapist, but do you think people like the idea of you, the funny guy, more than they like the real you? 

    Astor: Totally. People see me in real life and expect me to make jokes and be the life of the party, but that’s not who I am. I’m just a depressed man. I also notice the disappointment on their faces when this happens, so I’ve made it a mission not to break character. I’ll be who they want me to be. But once in a while, it gets exhausting, and my resting sad face reappears. 

    This conversation got dark real quick. Let’s move on to what I’ve noticed about you. 

    Facing my fears head on

    Astor: Your default on social media is to post deep and depressing shit like “Life will kill us all” and follow it up with the saddest song you can find. I know you like being a realist, but I’m the exact opposite. I don’t want to know the world is real. Better still, Hassan, find a balance. 

    Hassan: But you know I’m trying to relax now. I grew up in a house where my dad and brothers are doctors. Excellence is expected of everyone regardless of whether you’re a doctor or pharmacist. Nothing was impressive because excellence was the norm. A lot was expected of me, so even though I’m a dreamer at heart, I had to become a realist to survive. I couldn’t daydream in pharmacy school, or else I’d fail. 

    How I was raised shaped the way I view the world. It’s a constant struggle between the creative I am inside and the conditioning I got from my environment. I’d rather face what scares me head-on. People think there’s nothing I can’t do, but I want to scream that I’m doing it afraid. 

    Balancing our different personalities 

    Hassan: We work because we see and accept each other for who we are. It’s like Pareto’s 80/20 principle. If I like your 80%, then the 20% doesn’t matter to me. 

    Astor: Come through, Aristotle! 

    We know who we are underneath all the jokes and banter. And when it comes to picking up the slack for each other, I’m very avoidant of confrontation, so when we have disagreements, you’re the first to reach out so we can talk through it. You’re also good at chasing me all over social media until I respond and we settle our differences. 

    He came through for me

    Astor: You’re the first person to get deep insight into what my life looks like beyond the jokes. I feel like I can talk to you about anything. I tend to layer conversations about my feelings with a lot of jokes; it takes patience to deconstruct what I’m talking about. You always listen and offer advice, even when all I want to do is complain and wallow in my problems. 

    I remember when I called to tell you my dad had died. You were able to say things that made me feel better, and we just carried on in our usual banter. 

    Hassan: Talking about giving advice, there was a time I was going through some relationship wahala, and as a member of the streets, you advised me to work it out because the streets were tough. You were right about that. 

    Astor: Oh my God! I just remembered when I was served hot breakfast in 2019, and you came through for me. I was in the ghetto back then. I used to come to work and cry in the toilet, and it’s not as if those toilets were nice. I talked to you about it, and you took me out to eat amala for the first time. 

    You advised me to stay away from that person. I didn’t. And when it eventually blew up in my face, you were still there for me without judgement. 

    Hassan: I still find it interesting that you didn’t hate that person as much as I did after they did you detty. I also know the person called you while we were eating amala that day. 

    Astor: Scrim. 

    What makes this friendship different 

    Hassan: I met you during a very vulnerable period of my life. I was transitioning from the pharmacy I’d studied to writing, so I was neither here nor there. I needed someone to talk to, and you were there. Most people who know me met me as either a pharmacist or a writer. You’re the only one who was there when I struggled to find my identity between the two career paths. 

    We’re all fucked up, but I know I can share my fucked up parts with you, and you can share yours with me. We’ve been through a lot together. 

    Astor: Not to get dark, but I didn’t feel like I was having a good time in life for the longest time. Fine, I was funny, but that wasn’t enough. I couldn’t tell my friends back then because our relationship was very surface-level. And bless her heart, I knew my mum would’ve told me to pray about my feelings; she’s from a different generation. But you were the first person to make me feel comfortable talking about what I was going through. 

    We’ve talked each other off the ledge more times than I can count. 

    You accept me for who I am, and it gives me the space to know if I share something with you, you’d accept me no matter what. That’s really cool. As long as the thing I’m sharing is not that I’m a serial killer or Nigerian politician sha. 

    I want you to know 

    Hassan: You don’t realise how valuable you are. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You’re so funny and creative in a way that blows my mind. And it kills me that you don’t see it because if I had half of your talent, no one would be able to talk to me. 

    In a world where everyone is trying, you stand out, and I want you to be aware of how unique you are. 

    Astor: Damn. How do I respond to that? 

    You’ve helped me realise I deserve better when it comes to friendships. You’re the standard for all the friends I’ve made since we met. Even when I doubt myself, you push me to accept that I deserve better and to get better opportunities.

    I try to look at myself through your eyes every time I have to fake confidence. You’ve helped me make some of the best life decisions, and you don’t even know it. I’ll never repeat this because it’s too emotional for me. 

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


  • We’re Best Friends Who Didn’t See Each Other For 13 Years — Okiki and Tobi
    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.


  • Amebo Is the Glue That Holds Our Friendship Together — Foluso and Gbolahan

    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.


  • You Helped Me Fall Back in Love With Filmmaking — Dare and Kayode
    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.


  • We Push Each Other Because We Don’t Want to Be Broke — Anny and Victor
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.

    Anny and Victor are all about the hustle. The self-proclaimed workaholics can’t go two seconds without talking about work, and while it may be annoying to some, it’s super inspiring to me. They both understand the unique struggles of being a creative in a country like Nigeria. And that ginger to be the best at what they do is what forges the bond they have as friends. One of them is always around to either motivate or drag the other person. If this isn’t bromance, I don’t know what it is. 

    In this episode of My Bro, they talk about why Anny had Victor on a beef list when they first met, pushing each other to be the best version of themselves and whether or not they’d even be friends if they weren’t in the same industry. 

    Our origin story

    Anny: Hmm. I have a shitty memory, so I’ll let you take this one. But I think we met through work. 

    Victor: Look at this one. We met way before we started working together. I remember hearing about you back when you called yourself the bearded coquet. I remember thinking, “Who is this razz guy?” I was still very fresh in my videography career and was experimenting with photography when I saw your work, liked it and decided to reach out. After that, we started hanging out doing street photography and shit. But shey you know that wasn’t our first interaction? 

    Anny: Ah!

    Victor: So you’ve forgotten the time you gave me bad eye at Ebeano because you thought I was moving to your babe at the time? I’d say her name, but she’s now “she who must not be named”. 

    Anny: That chick? LOL. I don’t remember, but I’m sure I looked angry. That babe was a serial cheater and I was insecure AF in that relationship. I even had a list of guys I was beefing because of her. But after we broke up, I reconciled with all my bros. I was still a small boy. 

    Victor: LOL. And the crazy thing is, I was just friends with this babe. You just suspected every guy she was with, and that’s why I waited until after you broke up to reach out so you and I could work together. I messaged and asked if I could join you for your next photo walk, but you just asked me to pull up to your studio and that was it. We later worked on a shoot for one of my wife’s clients and our work relationship took off. 

    Anny: I don’t remember half of these things. Thank God for pictures that prove you were around for most of my shoots because, omo, I’m forgetful. 

    Transitioning from colleagues to bros 

    Victor: For me, respect came first. I’d been a fan of your work, but then getting to work with you personally, it was crazy just experiencing your insane work ethic. You hustle like someone that hasn’t made it yet. It’s like if you don’t put out content, the world will leave you behind. That’s the ginger I needed to tap into back then. I wanted to hang out with you because I hoped your energy would rub off on me. 

    Over time, I think respect just evolved into a friendship. I don’t think there was a significant moment. When you work with someone the way we creatively collaborated, you’re bound to start sharing your plans and life with them. 

    Anny: Yeah, I don’t think we even knew when it happened. It was a work friendship that turned to mutual respect and then friendship just entered the chat. It became a thing where we started hanging out even when it didn’t involve work. 

    What holds this friendship together?

    Anny: You know I don’t have a lot of friends. Also, most of my friendships, including ours, are built around work. I’ve realised that there’s you, my partner who I shoot and live with, and just about a handful of other people who are my friends, and I know work has something to do with most of them. I think that’s why we don’t have a major moment we can pinpoint as the official start of our friendship. 

    You, on the other hand, you’re friendly AF! You know people and you’ve opened me up to your other circles, which has been a good way for me to meet new people. I don’t have any circle for you to join sha. 

    Victor: Ehn, you have a circle of big booty women. But, yeah, I’m a married lover boy, so I’m not part of that circle. 

    I feel like you’re only friends with people whose work you respect. Because I know you and you’re so blunt, you’re not above dragging someone if you feel their work is mediocre. You’re amazing, but you’re very rude. But knowing you, I’ve learnt it’s all from a place of love. Still rude in the end. 

    Anny: Man, but you know work is the core of my existence. I didn’t move to Lagos all the way from Niger state to play. One of the primary reasons I left that place was because people in my environment at the time were lackadaisical in how they approached work. I didn’t want that then, so why would I want it now? If you’re my friend and I have reservations about something, especially work, I can’t help myself. I just have to say it. I want to succeed and have the people around me do the same. 

    Victor: No broke friends in our circle! But I like that you also try to help. You’re not just saying, “Oh, your work is shit.” Of all my creative friends, you’re the only one I trust to give me good feedback on my work, not just hailing me up and down. On social media, I could post something, and everyone would come into the comments with their flames and heart emojis. You don’t let me off easy. My work might be good, but you always remind me that it could be better. You’ve told me my work is rubbish a lot of times. LOL. 

    Anny: Trust me, it’s not easy being honest with people about something they’ve made. If it’s boring, I have to tell you it’s boring. Does it ever bother you? 

    Victor: How? Of all my friends, you’re the one who’s made the most negative comments about my work. But you’re also the person who’s brought me the most work in terms of referrals. So I know when you’re criticising my work, it’s also a thing of you not wanting me to fall your hand. I get it. 

    Anny: I’m big on friendship, but the quality of work is more important. If you don’t step up, I’ll leave you. 

    He came through for me 

    Victor: You come through for me every week. 

    Anny: You do the same thing too. I’m always coming to your studio to disturb you and shoot pictures. Many of the dope projects I’ve done were shot in your studio. Now imagine if I didn’t push you? This is why we need to always ginger each other. If you hammer, I hammer too. 

    Victor: Look at you taking credit for my success. Okay o! Take your flowers. 

    Anny: That’s not what I said. LOL. You also come through for me with moral support and funds when I need them. I think we’re each other’s guys when it’s time to hustle money. 

    Victor: Omo, as creatives, we need this for all the times the client will owe you for an extended period. Man dem need that urgent 2k we can hold on to until the big cheque comes along. 


    Would we be bros if we didn’t work together? 

    Victor: We work in the same industry, but outside of work, I feel we’d still be friends if we’d met randomly. I have tech bro friends, lawyer friends and so many other friends from different fields. I was attracted to your work ethic, and I know that even if you were doing something else, you’d still maintain that level of dedication and I’d want to be your friend. I know so many photographers out there, but I’m not close to them. 

    Anny: Hmm. I’m not sure. You’re great at making friends, work or not, but I’m terrible. If work isn’t involved, the chances of getting to know someone are slim for me. You’re also a people person, and we all come to you for advice. 

    Victor: So you’re admitting that I’m wise? 

    Anny: LOL. Yes, you have small sense. Being your friend, you’ve helped me face my trust issues and self-sabotaging tendencies regarding relationships. You always call me back when I’m heading in that direction, even though I might still do what I want to do sha. 

    The hardest part about being your friend 

    Anny: This man, why are you always late? 

    Victor: See, if it’s not work, settle your mind that I’m going to be late. You’re the one that’s super early. If we say we want to have drinks by six, you’ll be there by five-ish. Who does that? We’re Lagosians. That’s not fair. Do you really think we’d start by six on the dot? Nobody has time for that. 

    Anny: Because we’re in Lagos is why you should even be early. Another thing is your stubbornness. It’s hard to convince you to do something unless it’s what you wanted to do from the start. 

    Victor: I’m dead. The hard part of being your friend is the constant fear that you might be rude to a random stranger and put me in trouble. 

    Your impact on my life 

    Victor: I’d always considered myself a high achiever until I met you. Seeing someone younger than me work so hard and make a name for themselves has gingered me to be the hustler version of myself. I can’t sleep at night knowing you’re out there somewhere working. It’s not possible. You’ve helped me grow as a creative and you inspire me more than you know. 

    Anny: How do I follow this one now? You’re like the perfect sounding board. It doesn’t matter if it’s work or relationships; every conversation with you is productive. You’re like my love guru. I’m very closed off, and you’ve helped me with my relationship with people. You’ve shown me what it’s like to open up, and I like that. 

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


  • My Bro: You Completely Changed the Trajectory of My Life
    My Bro is a biweekly Zikoko series that interrogates and celebrates male friendships of different forms.
    My Bro: You Completely Changed the Trajectory of My Life

    David and Dayo have known each other for over a decade. They started out as acquaintances in secondary school, lived together in university, and now, they work in the same office. In this episode of My Bro, they both talk about how they became friends, what they learnt from living together and the big fight that almost destroyed their friendship years ago. 

    How we met

    Dayo: I remember meeting you on the first day of my first year of secondary school. This was in 2009, so that’s like 13 years ago. Technically, our friendship has lasted longer than some people’s marriages. 

    David: Please stop. LOL. 

    Dayo: But it’s true. 

    David: Even though we met in first year, we didn’t become friends until much later. 

    I remember the first time I really noticed you was the day we were all outside in secondary school playing games. You broke your head and there was blood everywhere. I saw you on the floor with everyone running all around you. What happened that day again?

    Dayo: Someone set their leg for me while we were playing. I can’t believe nothing happened to that person. My Grandma cursed the person when she heard, but I don’t think it worked because he’s fine. 

    We became friends in

    Dayo: I think our friendship became real when you had to move in with me. We shared the same room in secondary school, then you had to leave after JSS 3. It wasn’t until I got to university and randomly saw you again that we became close. You were the only person I knew at the time in university, and we started hanging out a lot, then you got homeless. 

    David: You’re a detty liar! I didn’t need a place to stay. LOL. I was registering as a fresher and I just remember seeing you. It turned out we were in the same department as well, so I told myself, “If he was cool in secondary school, he’ll probably be cool now.” That’s why I gravitated towards you. Throughout university, we hung out and even though other people joined our clique at some point, you and I were the only constant over the years.

    Do you remember when people started thinking we were dating? 

    Dayo: Who can forget? They’d ask you if I was gay. 

    David: Yes. And then they’d ask if you were “my guy”. LOL.

    Dayo: I was used to being called gay in secondary school, but in university, you sort of want the attention of girls, which I wasn’t always getting it because I was “effeminate”. 

    I was initially offended by it, but now I enjoy the ambiguity that comes with people not knowing whether I’m straight or not. These days when people ask, I just play around with it to mess with them. 

    David: I didn’t care then and don’t care now. I just tell them no and keep it moving. I’d probably end up gisting with you about it. 

    Living together

    David: Living with you was a learning experience for me. I enjoyed annoying people, and it would upset the fuck out of you. The funny thing was your anger made me want to annoy you even more because I felt you took everything too seriously. But now, I realise that it was uncalled for. It doesn’t make sense to continuously do something someone tells you they don’t like. Pissing you off was entertaining to me, but I’ve outgrown it now. Just because I wouldn’t have reacted in the ways you did, doesn’t mean your anger wasn’t valid. 

    Dayo: Thank you. Then there’s the personal space part. 

    David: Oh yeah, I can’t sleep on a bed with another person and not want physical touch. LOL. This was a problem for you right? 

    Dayo: Yes. You would put your legs on mine, and it used to stress me out. Over time I just learnt to get over it. 

    David:  To be honest, it’s not like I want to or enjoy stressing you out, I’m just the kind of guy who enjoys body contact with my friends. That reminds me, this was also the house where we had our first major fight where we didn’t talk to each other for like a month. 

    Dayo: Shit. 

    Our big fight

    Dayo: I feel like that fight was inevitable. There was a lot of miscommunication between the both of us. There were times when you were dismissive of my feelings when I brought them up, and that got to me. All of this caused a build up I think we ignored for too long. Normally, we’d have an argument and resolve our issues almost immediately, but this argument kept escalating. It was so bad we had to choose between addressing the issue at hand or dissolving our friendship. 

    David: I don’t think I understood how heavy it was for you at the time. I’m always thinking, “It’s not that deep. Why are you so angry?” I remember the fight happened because we had made a bet playing video games and I’d scammed my way into winning. It’s really silly in hindsight. I won, and when I asked you to pay your bet, you started shaking. You were getting angry over a bet that was clearly a joke to me and that just made me upset as well. That’s why I kept pushing for the payment. I think I said something about you never paying your bets and that just set you off. The angrier you got, the angrier I did as well. 

    Dayo: My main problem at the time was that we’d have an issue, resolve it, and just when I thought we had moved on from it, you’d bring that thing I did up again in a fresh unrelated argument. I felt like I was in this cycle and since I already have this deep rooted feeling that I’m inherently a bad person, you doing what you did felt like a confirmation. It was really bad for my mental health.

    I didn’t know you were joking. I just felt betrayed by my friend, especially after I had told you my family was struggling with money at the time. It was almost like you were trying to take advantage of me knowing my situation. I even tried to restore some form of normalcy. 

    David: You did? 

    Dayo: Yes. If you remember, an hour later, I came in and asked if you still wanted the money and you said yes. Before I asked you, I had told myself that if you said yes, I’d find a way to get you the money and just cut you off from my life. 

    David: Wait, what? 

    Dayo: LOL. I even sent a long voice note telling you I was hurt. After not talking to you for like a month, I realised I couldn’t do it anymore. You’re my primary support system. I hadn’t told you about the issue I had with how I viewed myself, and I think doing that just made it easier for the both of us to understand each other better. I’m glad we fixed it. 

    David: Me too. 

    Navigating other relationships

    David: We both have other friendships and relationships, but I feel like you hide people from me. 

    Dayo: Wow. Okay, the truth is if I’m not confident about a relationship, I tend not to share it with anyone else. There’s no point telling someone about something that might fail. I try to not bring too many people into the equation. Let me suffer in it alone, and when it blows up, I’ll tell other people. 

    David: But it makes me feel left out of an important part of your life. 

    Dayo: I’m sorry. I totally understand. It’s just that when something is fresh or young, I’m scared of putting it out there. 

    David: I understand. LOL. Just letting you know how it makes me feel. 

    Dayo: Not you giving me the “I see and understand you” therapy lingo. But then again, if the person is giving me headache, you’re the first person I’ll rant to. LOL.

    Dating

    Dayo: Our friendship has never threatened any of our relationships because we expect everyone to know that we’re a two for one package. I can’t date anyone who’s uncomfortable with you. Like where do we even go from there? 

    David: If anyone’s dating me, they’re automatically dating you. Not literally, but you get what I mean. 

    Dayo: Even when it comes to my other friendships, there’s a massive difference because we both share unique experiences. No matter how close I get to anyone else, it won’t be the same. We’ve known each other for too long.

    David: Yes, we’ve had like two friends who came and eventually  left our friend group. I don’t really like having a lot of friends, because what’s the point when I already have you? I doubt they’ll measure up to what we have. I’m too lazy to make other friends abeg. 

    What holds our friendship together?

    Dayo: We understand each other and also understand it’s important to give each other the necessary space needed to grow. One other thing that has kept our friendship is how we’ve learnt to communicate our issues without taking it personally. I’ve learnt it’s not about me, instead, it’s about how you’re feeling and vice versa.  Whatever you say is not an indictment of who I am. 

    David: Time has helped us understand each other better. We’ve gotten to know what makes the other person happy. Living together also helped. Because I lived with you, I don’t think I’m scared of marriage. Even though we had differences, it was still beautiful. So imagine I’m living with someone and there’s knacks involved, it’s going to be better. LOL. Our fights are also necessary because we get to talk and grow as emotional people who like to talk about how they’re feeling. 

    What should change about our friendship? 

    David: Looking at the way things are right now, I don’t think there’s anything I’d like to change. Maybe if I keep thinking about it, but for now, I like the way everything feels. 

    Dayo: It might not feel like a big deal, but I’ll change the distance between us. I really wish we still lived together. 

    I want you to know

    Dayo: I want you to know that In the grand scheme of my life, one of the most important factors that has made me the person I am today — good or bad — has been my friendship with you. You completely changed the trajectory of my life. You’ve taught me a lot about myself, the world and how people function. You taught me the life lessons I never got prior to meeting you. Watching you graciously flow through life has inspired me to do more. When we were in university, broke AF, you always had jobs. You’ve put so much effort into doing something for yourself, and I’m proud of you. You inspire me, and thank you so much for making me a better person. I hope I’ve done the same for you. 

    David: Thank you, Dayo. You know I love you. Oya, let me say my own. 

    Dayo: Ahh I need to record this. 

    David: LOL. There’s nothing I’ll say that you’ve not heard before. I’ll just say even if I had to start all over again, I wouldn’t want a version of you that’s different from the one I currently have. I like how perfect and complete our relationship is. I like that even with the good and bad, everything with us just works. I’d do this hundred times over again. I like that you’ve made me grow emotionally and the fact that I see you trying to be a refined version of yourself inspires me to want to do the same.  

    Dayo: Awwww. My impact! I love you too bro. 

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


  • How to Release Yourself From the Shackles of Toxic Bromances

    If there’s one thing about Nigerian men, it’s that we’re loyal. Most times, you’ll find male friendship circles that have remained the same for years, going back to primary or secondary school. While men are open to new friends, we rarely let go of the ones we’ve had before. 

    But what happens when a friendship is no longer working for you, bro? Do you just walk away? Well, taking a page from personal experiences, here are some things to note when dealing with an almost dead bromance. 

    1. How does your friendship make you feel? 

    Before you rush and cut someone off (I didn’t send you o), you need to take out time to properly think about why you’re doing this. The first step is to figure out how your bro makes you feel. If the thought of your bro or just hanging out with them fills you with dread, then omo, it’s to check and balance that friendship. Friendship, like other relationships, requires a little bit of work, but that doesn’t mean your friendship should feel like Further Mathematics. 

    2. Are you holding on to the past? 

    Like my editor, Ruka will say, “It’s time to do some critical thinking here.” One mistake we make as humans, is that we often prefer to stick with what we know, as opposed to exploring what’s out there. Well, bro, it’s time to reevaluate your friendship. Do you guys still have things in common or are you just doing a lot of “Remember when” and “back in the day”? Friendships can get stuck once in a while, and while not all are toxic and some are still fixable, it’s important to know the difference so you can save yourself the wahala. 

    3. Understand your boundaries, bro

    You can’t blame someone for walking into a door you left ajar. Knowing your boundaries allows you to know what you can or cannot take from someone. Define these boundaries and if people cross them, talk to them about it. How will you resolve issues with people in your life when you can’t even trace the source of your problem. Help the people in your life help you abeg. 

    4. Look for a non-confrontational way to resolve the issue

    Before you call your bro out, try to settle on other ways you can fix the problem you both have. Change the dynamic slowly —they might not even notice. Be open to exploring new things or having more adventures outside of your current comfort zone. Maybe along the way, you might just rediscover what made both of you friends in the first place. But this only works if your friend is annoying. Bro, if they’re toxic toxic, skip this step with vim. 

    RECOMMENDED: 5 Nigerian Men Talk About Friends Coming Through for Them

    5. Talk to them about how you feel

    As men, we’re not the biggest fans of confrontation especially when it’s personal and involves our feelings. Well, it’s time for you to get over that feeling and move into 2022. If someone makes you feel uncomfortable, please call them out with quickness. Talk to your friend about what you’ve noticed and why you think it’s happening. If tears move start coming, bro open your eyeballs and cry. Just make sure you don’t leave anything unsaid. Vulnerability >>>

    6. If they’re making points, listen

    If after speaking to your guy he then decides to share his thoughts with you, please listen. Who knows? You might be the villain in this story. But you also need to know that it’s not by force to accept their explanation. 

    7. Japa 

    You’ve done your part — the critical thinking, the trying to change the dynamics, and the talking. Now, it’s time for you to bounce. Not all friendships are meant to last forever. Take the memories and lessons you’ve learnt and move on. By the way, sometimes, it’s best to just jump right to this point and leave the whole others behind. Life is short my guy.

    ALSO READ: “I Was Miserable AF” — Nigerian Men Talk About Leaving Toxic Relationships