It started with, “Are we getting breakfast today?” Then, we stopped asking. We simply waited for each other. Day one, day two, day three—until it became a tradition. Some mornings, the walk was silent, weighed down by the exhaustion of a boring two-hour lecture and the burden of some new group assignment. Other mornings, we laughed discussing our most dramatic lecturer’s antics or complaints about our oblivious coursemate who admired him.
The first time Adey showed up to the cafeteria when he didn’t have classes, is scribbled on a torn piece of paper at the bottom of my gratitude jar. And then there was the time he came in pajamas, right at the faculty, just as I stepped out. My gladness in that moment was my shield against the embarrassment I had to take for the both of us. That’s when I knew he could sense the routine too.
Before we settled into New Flava, we used to eat at GSK: a cramped, overpriced cafeteria where food quality felt like a game of Russian roulette. Some days, it was tolerable; other days, we’d stare at our plates, wondering how something could be both expensive and bad. Eventually, after too many disappointments, Precious and I gave into Adey’s persistent suggestion to try New Flava. New Flava’s food wasn’t exactly great, but it was better, especially the white rice in the morning, as long as it wasn’t reheated from the previous day. (You really can’t win with this university’s cafeterias.) More than that, it was spacious, had better lighting, and was a place where we could sit for hours and talk loudly without being eyed by the staff like we were weapons fashioned against their business.
We spent so much time there; we made it ours.
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Lately, I’ve found myself paying close attention to my friends’ eating habits. Maybe it’s my way of holding onto these moments as graduation creeps closer, trying to carve them into something permanent. I wonder if they notice their own routines. Precious always chooses seats at the edge and buys two sachets of water for us. Adey prefers sitting near the middle; his choice of drink is unpredictable, but when it’s water, it must be bottled. Otherwise, he opts for the same yogurt I’ve seen countless times yet never learned the name of. Precious presses her rice down, indifferent to the aesthetic or, well, economic round shape behind the cheap, bland excuse for Jollof. Adey uses his hands to eat his eggs, carefully separating the whites first, saving the yolk for a perfect final bite. When one of us doesn’t have money, we don’t hesitate to split the bill, pretending it doesn’t matter, because it never really does. Every day, I watch, wondering if they’ll ever change. They haven’t.
But I fear that soon, I won’t be able to watch them eat at all. Years from now, maybe twenty, we’ll reunite, and everything will be different. When I mention these habits, they’ll laugh, shake their heads, and swear they never did such things, because, really, who cares? But I do. I care enough to memorize it. Enough to wish I could freeze this moment before it slips away.
The hours we’ve spent, three, sometimes five, giving each other a rundown of our weekends, sharing heartbreak stories, indulging in straight-up gossip. Adey has captured so many spontaneous pictures of our everyday lives. Little stolen snapshots of time that we barely notice in the moment but will one day look back on with nostalgia. Sometimes, in the middle of a meal, he’d hold up his camera, snapping a picture of Precious mid-rant or me buried in a book.
Soon, we’ll have our last breakfast together. I don’t know if we’ll recognize it as the last when it happens. If it will feel just like another morning, same bland food, same teasing, until, eventually, the table is empty.
But not today.
Today, we eat. And before we leave, Adey lifts his camera once more, the shutter clicks, and just like that, the memory is saved.
About the Author:
Sapphire Mclaniyi-Agbley is a student at the University of Ibadan but not for long. When she’s not immersed in books or crafting her own stories, you’ll find her dancing salsa or playfully cosplaying as a DJ. You can find her on Medium: https://medium.com/@jmclaniyi
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