Musings on friendship
Kids: this is how I met your aunt/God-mother
How my best friend and I even became friends.
I probably think about this every day. Because the story truly was out of my hands, and I think that’s what makes it even more special. “I read something recently: ‘I would choose you to be my best friend every lifetime again and again.’ And yes, our relationship very much gives that.”
But it made me think—how my lack of choice is actually what brought me one of my biggest blessings ever. My best girl, Omolayo. Or as I call her, Omolays.
I didn’t choose her. She didn’t choose me. At least not at first. God did the choosing on our behalf long before either of us released our first cry on our born days. Who would have thought two little girls would cross paths and connect in a way that truly is beyond words?
We talk about this often—during calls, random VNs, or text messages—asking ourselves, how did we get here? And not in a confused way, but more so in wonder. Because it truly could have only been God.
How did we meet? Honestly, I couldn’t tell you the exact day if I tried. Probably doesn’t make for a killer story, but that just goes to show how divine it really is. The beginning had nothing to do with us.
We both went to secondary school together. Had mutual friends. Saw each other, spoke here and there. We butted heads a few times (okay, maybe a lot). At the time, she was fire, and I was ice—though now I see how we both have each other’s passion, chillness, and personalities in different ways that complement each other beautifully.
She randomly joined a club I started in school. We weren’t close, but I guess she shared my interest in natural hair. Also, she’s very much a go-getter and Type A, so one thing about her—she’ll partake in an extracurricular activity. Still, no sparks flying at this point. No groundbreaking "oh my gosh, this is my twin flame." No "Jonathan to my David" moment.
We were in each other’s worlds, but not enough to make an impact.
I’ve been reading about David recently, and so many thoughts have been swirling in my mind—maybe I’ll share them another time. But something I’m seeing with fresh eyes is David’s humanity. We talk about him as this main character—the giant-slayer, the man after God’s heart, the one whose greatest failure led to one of my favorite psalms: ‘Search me, O God, and know my heart’ (Psalm 51). But we often miss the in-betweens. The moments where, despite being chosen and anointed, he still had a default setting of choosing for himself, defending himself, trusting himself. His story is filled with missteps—like when his fear led him to lie and caused the priests of Nob to be killed, or when his anger nearly drove him to massacre Nabal’s household out of pride. And yet, despite all of this, God still calls him beloved.
And then there’s Jonathan. Heir to a kingdom yet willing to give it up for a man who wasn’t even his blood. Not because of anything David had done, but because he believed in who God said David was. Watching their friendship unfold reminds me how important friendship is to God—not just our friendship with Him, but the ones He gives us here on earth. And it makes me think about Omolayo. How our paths crossed in a way that felt like our own choosing, but was truly God setting the table long before we even knew it. Like Jonathan, she has this remarkable ability to see me beyond what’s right in front of her—to believe in who God says I am. And just like David, I’ve had moments of choosing for myself, leaning on my own understanding. But God, in His kindness, gives us friends who remind us to trust Him instead. Who stand beside us, call us higher, and love us even in the in-betweens.
Fast forward to 2020. Our mutual friends head off to school, and Omolays and Joannah are left to themselves in Lagos. No school in sight, both of us sharing that similar pain—carrying the weight of expectations that didn’t match God’s plans.
I don’t remember the exact moment we finally clicked, but I do remember a moment.
We were in her car (because I’ve always been her designated passenger princess), and Omolays—being the woman of confrontation that she is (which she sometimes thinks is a bad thing and tries to shrink herself, but I think it’s such a remarkable quality)—said:
"The both of us are basically going to enter into one trouser."
(Translation: It’s me and you, until the foreseeable future).
Looking back now, me then probably felt a little intimidated (as I tended to run from anything that looked like confrontation, even when necessary). But I also felt a pull—like there’s something here. I don’t think either of us realized that was God tugging at our hearts and bringing us together.
From there, things began to change.
She’d come over to mine, I to hers. My family always expected her to be around. We’d go places, and people would always ask when the other wasn’t there—"Where’s Joannah?" or "Where’s Omolayo?"
But no one saw what happened behind closed doors.
How she’d show up for me without me ever having to ask.
How she always knew what I needed to hear and would say it, even if I didn’t like it at first.
How her just being her brought out parts of me I didn’t even know existed.
How we started finishing each other’s sentences and sharing the same brain cell.
It was like our souls started merging, slowly but surely, after that moment in her car.
So yes, I’d choose her in every lifetime. But I actually think I’m even more grateful that the choice was never mine to begin with. God chose her for me, and me for her.
It’s a threefold cord—her, me, and God.
She teaches me so much just by being her.How to be strong.How to consider things and people.How to show up consistently.How I can do whatever I put my mind to.
Honestly, if Superwoman were real, it’d be Omolayo. Because there’s nothing the girl can’t do. She’s naturally blessed with both left and right brain brilliance—creative and analytical. If there’s something she doesn’t know how to do, sis will open a book, do her research, and give her a month—she’ll get the hang of it.
Being in her orbit is inspiring. She has this way of making you feel like you are capable too. And if you can’t do something, she’s either going to show you how or—her default setting—just do it for you.
With us not choosing each other at first, I think that was necessary. It helped us see how intentional God is. But it also showed us that what He gives is always better than anything we could have imagined.
I love how we have grace for each other’s humanity. How we can just be. Sometimes I forget that—that I can just be,without fear or hesitation.
Our relationship mirrors my relationship with God.
When I’m not being vulnerable with her, it’s a huge tell that I’m not being vulnerable with God. Because how can I prioritize the gift and neglect the Giver of said gift?
I love how we can be unserious but also deeply serious at the same time. I love how there’s still so much of us to learn and experience in each other.
So though I choose her today, I’m happy the decision was never in my hands—because that allows me to keep choosing her tomorrow.
Fast forward a few years. Her time in Lagos comes to a pause, and she’s off to uni. People looked at me with pity when it happened. Veiled questions of concern—"How are you going to cope?"
And honestly, I understood where they were coming from. But it irked me.
Maybe Joannah of a few years ago would have seen her girl win and turned to God, asking, well, what about me? And that wouldn’t even be wrong—it’s a human response.
But I was too happy for her to even think that. We had prayed for this, cried over this too many times for jealousy to keep me from celebrating her. As much as I missed her, I couldn’t even be sad.
She left, and we became long distance.
And again, God reminded me—"In case you thought it was proximity that made you two close, think again."
People bond through trauma, but that wasn’t our case. She left for Canada, yet it felt like she never left.
From that day till now, it’s been a never-ending conversation. Not just because we talk all the time (which we do), but because I feel her with me always. Her physical presence might not be here, but her presence—the mark she’s made—has never wavered.
(Of course, our reunions are a 10/10 experience, and goodbyes are always bittersweet. But even in the distance, she’s never really felt far.)
I honestly don’t know where I was going with this. I guess I was just doing my usual rumination over how much I love my best girl.
As someone who always struggled with friendships—who carries some nasty scars—this one healed me. And God is still using it to heal me in ways I didn’t even know I needed.
Random, but one of my favourite things we do is talk about the future—husbands, babies, work, our dreams, me going to school whenever God decides it’s time, and just life changing in general. One thing that will stand the test of everything is us, and not just because we say so, but because the Big Guy upstairs chose to bring a little girl named Joannah and a little girl named Omolayo together.
This friendship is one of the reasons I believe in friendships again.
The word friend carries so much weight for me now. I try not to use it lightly anymore because I’ve seen what friendship truly is—commitment, covering, safety, accountability, love, loyalty, and purity. Not because people are perfect, but because grace has a way of connecting you to someone who is simply graced for you.
And if you’re looking for a sign to believe again, here it is.
God can give you true friends. And He wants to.
Because friendships allow us to experience Him too.
Oh, this was so refreshing to read❤️
this was such a beautiful read!! ❤️🔥