#3: The Unspoken Rules of Friendship
on trust, distance, and unexpected Goodbyes
The year was 2010. I was a little nine-year-old standing alone on my school’s staircase, crying like a child whose Capri-Sun had just been stolen. There are many things to be in this life; please never be the girl crying on a staircase.
I don’t remember who approached me or what they asked. But I do remember explaining, between sniffles, that I was sad because it was my youngest sibling’s birthday, and I wasn’t home to celebrate with my family.
I think about that moment now, more than a decade later, and it makes me question this independent career woman thing I’m doing. Maybe I should just marry a rich man and become a full housewife?
But really, lol. I think this says a lot about my attachment style. I genuinely love my friends and I want to hold on to them forever. But deep down is a fear of loss and a sensitivity to separation. Sometimes, without realising it, I distance myself as a way to protect myself from the inevitability of losing them one day. I’ve hated the idea of separation for as long as I can remember. Back then, it was missing out on a family moment. Now, in my twenties, it’s the slow, inevitable loss of friendships to distance.
Adulthood is full of unexpected goodbyes, and no one teaches you how to navigate them. One example is when your friends relocate to the other end of the world. It’s worse when you’re Nigerian because, in most cases, they don’t inform you till they leave. Big ups to the ones who at least inform us a few days or a week before their departure—because that makes it easier to absorb the shock and enjoy the last few days together.
In 2023, a friend of mine relocated to the UK. A few days before he left, he told me. Long story short, I wept. I remember working at midnight and randomly breaking down at the thought of never seeing him again. It was insane. But knowing in advance gave me some room to process it. We left the church together that day, and that would be the last time I saw him in person before he travelled—which wasn’t the original plan, but in the long run, it gave me some closure.
That same year, another friend relocated. I remember trying to reach out to him for weeks without any response. When I finally got through, he casually mentioned that he had left the country. And boy, I was hurt. I felt like a fool.
I like to believe that friendship is a silent agreement—an unwritten pact that thrives on trust and openness. There’s an unspoken expectation that we will show up for each other in meaningful ways, let each other in, and not shut each other out without cause.
Believe me, I understand wanting to keep your plans private. But at what point does it become a breach of contract? When does it become disrespectful?
In my opinion, it becomes a breach of contract when your privacy starts to feel like an exclusion, when keeping things to yourself quietly says, you don’t matter enough to know. It becomes disrespectful when the silence speaks louder than the friendship.
On the other hand, at what point does that expectation turn into entitlement? When does wanting to be included in your friend’s plans shift from a right to a demand?
I’d argue that expectation turns into entitlement when inclusion stops feeling like a choice and starts feeling like a duty. When wanting to be considered turns into resentment for not being prioritised, the line has been crossed.
Friendship works best when both people recognise that openness is a gift, not an obligation. If someone chooses to share, it’s because they trust you, not because they owe you. And if they keep something to themselves, it’s not always a sign of distance—it’s just a part of being human.
At the same time, being a friend means making an effort to keep people in the loop, even in small ways. A simple “Hey, I’ve got a lot going on, but I’ll fill you in when I can” can go a long way in reassuring someone that they still matter.
As someone who unconsciously lives by the law of "out of sight is out of mind," I hate to see my friends go because chances are I'll struggle to keep in touch, you might get too busy and tired of reaching out, and we'll inevitably fall out. So, I secretly want to kidnap all my friends so we can all remain in the same location at all times.
But who am I kidding? That’s impossible.
On a more serious note, we need to make the most of the time we have with friends right now. It's tempting to feign busyness or genuinely get overwhelmed with the weight of our adult responsibilities that we fail to acknowledge and enjoy our friendships. As Paul Angone said, I hope that when next a friend calls, you pick up the phone even when it doesn’t feel like the right time to talk. Because for many years in your twenties, it might not feel like the right time to talk. I hope that you’ll look your friends in the eyes this week and tell them how much you love them.
Lastly, I hope that I follow my advice and do the same with my friends.
At the end of the day, it’s the little things—the random check-ins, the unplanned hangouts, and the shared jokes—that make all the difference. We don’t always know when a friend will move away or when life will pull us in different directions. But while we’re still here, still close, we have the chance to be present. To make memories that will keep our friendships alive, even when distance tries to get in the way.
💌WBUT—What’s Bolu Up To?
If you haven't eaten a pineapple this month, I have no idea what you're doing with your taste buds (read: life). There's a tendency to want to join the yearly rage about Agbalumo but resist it with all your might. This month, I stepped out of my comfort zone and bought a pineapple for the first time in years. A bold step, yeah, but I enjoyed it. I dare say my life has changed for the better just because. I'm not being dramatic. Try it for yourself and see. Don't come for me if yours is sour and gives you a toothache—na you sabi! Mine tasted like pure sugar all three times I bought it—so if yours doesn’t, that’s between you and your village people.😌
Now that I've successfully distracted you from noticing that this post has been due for over a week, did you notice the theme and name change??
So, we’re officially The 20s Club Newsletter. I fought hard not to make this another 20s newsletter on the internet, but here we are.
Alright. Let’s get into the media I consumed in the past few weeks.
📖 Reading: I finally finished reading “25 Lies You Need to Stop Believing in Your 20s” and “My Sister is a Serial Killer.” Oh, I decided to drop “This is Marketing”. I'm not in the mood for textbooks this quarter. I seriously need an African literature recommendation list that promises to hold my attention and make me build my reading momentum for the year.
🤳Watching/Listening: I started and finished watching the two seasons of Flawsome on Showmax, and I'm now expecting the next season’s release because Abdul and Dolapo must marry in my lifetime. I don't want to hear it. Abdul's switch from being an asshole to a lover boy should be studied in universities, tbh, and I'm rooting for him and Dolapo. Watched it for the PR theme and stayed for the romance. I also watched Pitch Perfect 1-3 again because my love for it is immutable. On Valentine's Day, I kept myself busy by watching "You May Only Kiss the Bride" by Harvester's TV and "Last to Marry" by Laju Iren. I enjoyed both of them. I genuinely think I wasted my time with "Heart on the Line" after watching the season finale, but I forgive First Bank (they own the channel) because they gave me a cute journal. When I'm not listening to my pastor's sermons, I'm listening to Stephanie Ike Okafor. I’ve listened to the one on Stewarding Transitions more than twice in the last few days, and I plan to keep listening till it sinks in.