Janice and I went to the same senior high school. We were not friends when we were in senior high. On my first day at the university, I saw her. She called me by name and I was surprised. “You know my name?” I asked with a dint of surprise. She answered, “Who doesn’t know your name? You were popular in school, remember?” 

We had lunch together that day. We went about searching for things together. We were in a new compound that needed searching before you know. As fate would have it, we were placed in the same hall—the same room. We became two peas in a pod from there. 

There was no Janice without me. There was no me without Janice. People thought we were sisters. We confirmed their suspicion by referring to each other as sisters. “Are you talking about my sister?” I usually asked people who talked about Janice in her absence. They’ll ask me, “Are you two really sisters?” I will nod my head. I will tell them, ”Yes we are. One mother one father”

Our relationship grew stronger as we walked the corridors of the school, facing the same challenges and fighting different demons. We were in the second year when I took her home to spend the vacation with me. It was a long vac but she stayed until school reopened. She became my mom’s personal person because of her hard work and a huge sense of humor. Janice is like that. You take her anywhere and she will own the place. She’s not the one to be the wallflower. She’s always the life of the party. Hours after the party is over, she’ll be the one everyone talks about. 

I didn’t think of it this way at first but later I realized what solidified the bond between us. She was raised by a single mother. She told me, “I was three when my father ran off with another woman. He never looked back and didn’t think of us again. The new woman stole his heart. His mind and later took over his attention. I know where he lives now but I don’t care about him. To me, he’s not my father. Nothing will make him be my father.”

My story is similar. The only difference is that Janice knows where her father is. I don’t. My father’s absence was harder for me because I was the last born and according to my mother, I was one of the major reasons why my father took off and never came back. This story is not about my father so I won’t go into details. It’s about Janice. It’s about love I don’t know how to deal with it. It’s about betrayal yet to happen. It’s about friendship on a brink of breaking down because a man’s heart is at stake here.

When we were in the fourth year, disaster happened. It happened in the life of Janice. Her mother, the sole provider for her education and the breadwinner in her life went completely blind. She couldn’t go to the market to sell to support her education. In a way, it was Janice who had to do something to take care of her mother. She told me, “I will have to drop out. My mother is alone and it breaks my heart. That woman needs more than she’s getting. I have to be there for her. And the sad thing is, who gets to pay for this (education) now that she’s blind?”

For the first time in our lives, we got to a place where I could offer no help. She went home for a month and later came back to school. She told me one of her aunties has accepted to stay with her mother so she could come back to school. I asked her, “Is your aunt going to pay the fees for you?” She answered, “It gets darker than I anticipated but I know what to do.”

Janice started disappearing most of the time and will appear out of nowhere. She wouldn’t talk about where she went and what took her to where she went. She told me, ”Oh I’m fine. I just had to put one on one together to get to three. But I’m fine.” If I didn’t know Janice, I would have believed her when she said she was fine. I knew her too well to know that she was hiding something. One evening I cornered her before she could disappear; “Janice, “Tell me what’s going on. All these disappearing acts aren’t helping me and you in any way. You’re a sister, remember? I’m not just a friend so feel free and tell me what is happening.” 

She opened Up; “I’ve been working on the street recently. Hopping into the cars of men, providing pleasure and getting paid. You know, this (Fees) won’t pay for itself. My mom’s drugs won’t pay for themselves too. Something has to give. I can’t sit and watch while it all comes down. I’ve come too far to let Humpty Dumpty fall from the wall. It would be too hard to put him together if that happens. So I’m on the street, hustling. Saving money. Sending some home and keeping some for myself.” I couldn’t utter a word. I sat still for so long until she asked me, ”Can I go now?” I answered, “I wish there’s something I could do to help you out of this but…” She said, “There’s something you can do. Just let this be between you and me. No one else has to know.”

For the rest of our days on campus, she schooled in the daytime and worked at night time. Her dressing changed. Her demeanor to certain things also changed. She was never scared of anything. It would be a lecturer telling us to submit an assignment on a certain date or else face the consequences. Janice didn’t care.  She will submit the assignment when she likes and most often, the lecturer will take it. Fearless, that’s what the nightwork made her. 

After school, she went full-time on the street. I asked her, ”Why don’t you start something with what you’ve had. A business that can bring you money.” She answered, “What business is that? That can make me quick money to take me out of the conundrum I find myself in? Don’t worry. The right time will come and I will leave.” 

We were posted to villages far from Accra to do our national service. I didn’t see her for a year but I spoke to her every day. She told me she had stopped. She told me she had met a man where she was working and that man was helping her. I sang my hallelujah song that day. A few weeks later, she called while sobbing on the phone.

“Janice, what is it? What’s making you cry?”

“The man I told you about, you remember?”

“Yeah, that man who is helping you?”

“Yes. His wife came to our office today and disgraced me infant of my colleagues. Called me all sorts of names. Went into details on what I’ve been doing with her husband. I don’t know how I’m going to face the world again. It’s so hard for me right now.”

I didn’t know the man was married. Even if I knew, what would I have done? She was broken and scared. I wasn’t there to provide the shoulder and tell her that it’s alright and that she’ll heal in no time. You know, those shallow motivations we give to our suffering friends when we don’t know what to do. She needed that but I wasn’t there for her. Every Friday evening, she’ll travel to Accra. To the street. To where her shame didn’t matter. To where she could bury her face in her work and forget the world outside. She needed the money but this time she did it not solely because of the money. She did it because it provided an escape from all the finger-pointing she was going through at work.

After national service, she came to live with me. We both started looking for work together. We went out in the day and came back in the evening. I didn’t want her mind to wander back to the job on the street. I had to do everything to get her occupied. My brother in Germany came back home early this year. We were still home and unemployed. He took a special interest in Janice. That interest was fueled by my mother and all the stories she told my brother about how good Janice had been. Janice is a sister to me so naturally, she becomes a sister to my brother. My silly mind made that assumption when I saw my brother getting closer and closer to Janice. I didn’t suspect anything because there was nothing to suspect. 

My brother went back to Germany in April this year. Just around that time, Janice had a job. Months later, I also had a job. Our jobs kept us busy. We hardly spoke and hardly met. Anytime I spoke to her I asked if she was being a good girl. You know what I mean? She’ll say something like, “I get enough money. There’s no point going there again.”

It was in November when my mother told me that my brother would be coming back to Ghana in December. I was like, “But this guy left here only in April? Why is he coming back so soon?” My mom laughed. I know that laughter. It always happens when there’s more to say. I asked her, “What is it that you’re not telling me?” She answered, almost in whispers, “So you don’t know your brother and Janice are dating? Your eyes are big for nothing. They don’t see what’s right under your nose. He’s coming because of Janice.”

I was shocked to the knee. “Hey, and no one told me anything? What kind of people do I have around me? That’s not fair?” My mom answered, “You should be happy for them. You’ve always wanted Janice to be a sister. Here’s an opportunity to keep her as a family forever.”

But I felt betrayed. Betrayed by everyone who knew and didn’t tell me about it. Especially Janice who didn’t see the need to whisper it into my ears looking at all the things we’ve been through together. I called her, “Janice, you’re dating my brother and you didn’t say anything about it?” She answered, “Hmmm, I wanted to but he told me not to tell you until he breaks the news to you himself. It’s not altogether my fault but I take half of the blame. I should have but then I didn’t know how you would take it.” We went back and forth but still got nowhere. In the end, I said, “I’m disappointed in you. You should have said something or at least give me a sign to guess the rest myself.”

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My brother came to Ghana early this December. The two of them have been going around as you would expect new lovers to be but something about it doesn’t sit right in my spirit. Anytime I see them together, I feel this kind of feeling that says everything is wrong. My brother doesn’t know what Janice had been into. She won’t tell him. My mother doesn’t know because I didn’t tell her. I feel one day my brother will know what Janice is keeping from him and he’ll blame me for not saying anything. It’s like I’m an accomplice to a crime against my own brother and that doesn’t sit well with me. 

I want to tell him all about it. If he gets to know and he decides to go on with it, that’s fair than for him to date her ignorantly. Love shouldn’t be based on ignorance. True love is when we leave everything in our hands on the table so our partners can judge for themselves. It’s not about hiding and it’s not about acting like an angel with a dark background. That’s why I want to call my brother on the side and tell him everything that girl had been into. But I still love Janice. She was caught in a circumstance and she decided to fight with all she had. I can’t blame her for her choices. So I want to keep quiet on her past and allow them to roll their boat wherever they find fit. 

Should I tell my brother? Should I keep it from him? What if he finds out in the future and blames me for it? If you were in my shoes, what choice would you have settled on? remember, there are health issues to consider too. It’s not that simple. Please advise me.

–Felicity

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