Sunken Ships is a Naijaonpoint weekly series that explores the how and why of the end of all relationships — familial, romantic or just good old friendships.
Jonathan* (37) considered Dimeji* (36) more of a brother than a best friend. But after almost 14 years of friendship, he discovered through a casual conversation with an acquaintance that Dimeji had moved abroad months earlier and even held a goodbye party without telling him.
For Sunken Ships, Jonathan shares how the discovery ended their friendship and changed the way he trusts people.
We used to play basketball together at a neighbourhood court near my house. Sometime in 2005, I overheard him complain that his ball was deflating, but he didn’t have a pump. I had one at my place, so I offered to help. We walked home together, and from that day, we became thick as thieves.
He lived nearby, so we visited each other often and quickly realised how much we had in common. We both loved sports and rap music, and we’d swap CDs all the time. I spent so much time at Dimeji’s house that I became an unofficial member of his family. I come from a Christian background, while he’s Muslim, so I’d spend the Islamic celebrations at his place, and he’d come to mine for the Christian ones. I saw him as a brother.
This continued even after we went to different universities, graduated and started working. If I needed a few days away, I’d spend them at his place, and he was always welcome at mine.
We did. We were open with each other about money, family issues, women… everything.
We disagreed a few times when we were younger, but it was never serious. As we got older, we disagreed even less because we knew each other well enough to avoid offending each other.
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In 2017, when we were both in our late 20s, Dimeji and I started debating whether to pursue postgraduate degrees or leave the country. I’ve always been pro-Japa, but Dimeji wanted to build in Nigeria.
I decided to pursue a master’s degree abroad and kept him updated throughout my application process. I even tried to convince him to move abroad as well, but he insisted he wasn’t interested. My application eventually fell through because I couldn’t raise the funds, and Dimeji supported me through that period.
Fast forward to August 2018, Dimeji told me he was visiting his older sister, who lived in the UK.
When he eventually returned in December, we started hanging out again, and everything seemed fine. I had no idea anything had changed until the following year, when I tried to visit him at his place.
In March, I wanted to spend a few days in Lagos for an interview and to see my girlfriend. I was based in Ibadan, so I planned to stay at Dimeji’s place, like I usually did. But this time, he told me he wasn’t available.
I didn’t think much of it, so I booked a hotel and asked if he was free to meet for drinks. He declined that too.
That weekend, while I was out with my girlfriend, I ran into one of Dimeji’s friends. We’d met at his place once, so we weren’t particularly close, but he knew we were like 5 and 6.
We exchanged pleasantries, and he teased me about finding time to hang out with women now that my friend had japa-ed. I laughed it off, but I was confused. As far as I knew, Dimeji had been back in Lagos since December.
I told him that, but he looked even more confused. Then he told me Dimeji had thrown a small going-away party in August before leaving the country. One of our mutual friends had even taken over his lease after he moved abroad.
Blindsided. I didn’t want to believe what I heard, so the next day, I called Dimeji, but I couldn’t get through. I sent him a message about what his friend had told me, hoping it was some elaborate joke.
Instead, Dimeji sent me a voice note confirming everything. He said his family had pressured him to move abroad for his master’s, so he took the leap and moved to the UK in August.
He said his mum had gone to pray somewhere, and they told her that if anyone outside their family knew about his plans to move abroad, they wouldn’t succeed. He swore he planned to tell me eventually, but was waiting for the right time.
I didn’t believe him. If it was such a secret, why did he have a going-away party? Why did I have to find out about his move from someone else?
What made it worse was that we’d spent time together in December and he hadn’t mentioned it once. He even complained about the cold and said it would be a while before the UK saw him again. I was so hurt.
We slowly grew apart. I told him that since he thought I would cast an evil eye on his plans to move abroad, we should keep our distance. I soft-blocked him on all our social media and focused on my life.
Moving on wasn’t easy, though. Mutual friends would run into me, ask how he was doing and then ask when I was going to join him. Every time it happened, I had to explain that I didn’t know he’d even left.
Not once. We’d unfollowed each other on social media, but he still had my number and never reached out.
That hurt during the first year after we stopped talking. It felt like I was the only one who cherished what we had. Eventually, I got used to it.
Over time, I started to feel like he’d been looking for an opportunity to cut me out of his life even before he relocated. I can’t imagine what I could have done to make him want that, but I’ve accepted his decision. I haven’t reached out to him either. By March 2026, it had been seven years since I last spoke to him.
Definitely. My friendship with Dimeji was the closest one I had, and losing it changed how I approach other friendships. I haven’t tried to replace what we had.
I’m closer to my younger brother now because he’s the one I trust the most. Outside my family, all my friendships are disposable. Don’t get me wrong, I have good friends, but I keep a wall around myself.
I’ve already forgiven him. I don’t carry what he did in my heart, but I think our time as friends is over. There’s been too much water under the bridge. I think we’re okay the way we are now.
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