Not all friends are friends

What kind of friends do you have? Do you have friends who add value to your life or those who derive value from it? The course of many people's lives has been altered for better or worse by the type of friends they keep. Therefore, how you choose your friends is important.

When I was in my twenties and living alone, I met a guy in my neighborhood on a Saturday and we chatted for a while on various topics. He invited me that same evening to a neighborhood bar so that we had more time to chat. He looked nice.

As someone eager to meet new people and make friends, I accepted his invitation. We hadn't had enough time to chat when we met. So I felt that the evening meeting would be an opportunity to get to know him better.

Shortly after I sat down, he ordered beers for us. We drank and chatted. I don't remember what we talked about. But one trait I have is the ability to engage people of any age, education, gender, race, or social status in long discussion on various topics. If you like to chat about music or parties or pets or books or movies or politics or business or religion or relationships, we can go on for hours. Whatever subject you are on, I would be happy to discuss it with you. Even if I don't know anything about it, I will listen to you and ask you questions. I learned that people like to be listened to and asked questions.

When my drink ran out, he ordered another one. I protested but he heard of no refusal. With an avuncular look and countenance, he grabbed the door opener and opened the glass for me. I had almost had my fill but managed the second bottle after a period of chatter. When the second bottle was about to run out, I figured that was it for me. I wouldn't take another bottle.

But lo and behold, he ordered another bottle and opened it before I could say much. We had spent about two hours at the bar. I felt it was time to come in. The guy wouldn't hear of it. He asked me if I had a baby to breastfeed at home or a wife to complain if I came home late. I had no valid excuse except that I wanted to go home and sleep. He dismissed everything I said and told me to sit down.

I thought about the situation for a while. If I insisted and left without taking that drink, he would be offended. But I remembered the words of Chinua Achebe that the only cure for alcohol is the power to say no and that it is the fear of offending that makes you swallow poison. I was wondering if continuing with this guy wouldn't create more problems for me. Knowing that the taste of beer is never appealing enough to get me drunk, I sat down and he continued his stories.

But a thought came to mind. Was this guy's mission to get me drunk and later brag about giving me so much to drink I didn't know the way home? If that was his mission, it would not come true. I had never been drunk before and I had never been drunk until today.

I remembered the proverb of my people: Eneke the bird said that since men learned to shoot without missing, he learned to fly without perching. I also remembered the saying of my people that when the rhythm of the drum changes, so does the dance step. I told him in my head: Two can play this game!

The bar was in an open enclosure with a bare sand floor. The ground was slightly sloping. I was sitting on the lower part. The bar was becoming deserted.

I lifted the bottle to my mouth as if taking sips; then I put the bottle next to me. As we chatted, I knocked the bottle down near the ground as music blared from the speakers, drowning out the gurgling of beer from the bottle. The drink spilled over the sand for a while and seeped into the earth, giving the ancestors the chance to have their share. I raised the bottle to my mouth again for a while, then put it back next to me for the libation to the ancestors.

Soon the bottle would be empty and he would order another. I stopped protesting to him and assured that I was not stingy with the ancestors.

As the night wore on, everyone else left the bar until there were only two of us left in the bar. We continued our game. It was around midnight, as the bar owner was closing, that my generous beer host decided it was time to leave.

I thanked him for his generosity. The street was deserted but the house was about four houses away, or 200 meters. We said goodbye and I went home. I don't know if he was looking at my steps and speech to see if they were the same as they were earlier in the evening.

That was the last time I had to deal with this guy. Every time he saw me and asked me to meet at the bar, I told him I had an engagement. A f...