April came with a wound I still have not been able to process properly. I lost a coursemate... no, not just a coursemate, a dear friend. His name was Swift, That was the name everyone called him by, but to me, he was more than just a nickname. He was one of the first people I really got to talk to when I first came to Yabatech.
It’s crazy when I think about it now. You know how you walk into a new environment , not knowing anybody, feeling out of place? That was me when I first resumed. But somehow, Swift and I clicked. We became seatmates almost instantly. It wasn't even something we planned. We just always ended up sitting beside each other, lecture after lecture. It became a thing people even started expecting to see us together.
We sat through the stress, the confusion, the unexpected tests, and those lecturers that would enter class without a smile. I can still remember Swift’s expressions when a lecturer said something wild or dropped an impromptu test. He’d just look at me and say, “Wahala don set.” I remember Cost accounting lectures , he was the automatic calculation of the class.
But through it all, he never complained much. That’s something I admired about him. He had this calmness, this quiet readiness maybe that’s even where the “Swift Ever Ready” name came from. He was just always prepared. It was like no matter what life threw at us in that classroom, Swift was ready to catch it and digest it, and move forward like it didn’t faze him.
Two months ago, everything changed.
We had just finished our fourth paper for the semester one more to go. We were all in that high-energy mode: tired but excited, ready to sign out, take pictures, plan celebrations. You know how students start feeling when exam is rounding up. It was our sign-out week. The energy was different. You could feel it. We had started counting down to freedom.
That same day, just hours after we wrote our paper, we got the news.
Swift had been shot. Right outside the school gate.
At first, I didn’t believe it. Nobody did. It felt like someone was playing a sick joke. People were calling, asking, confirming. “Are you sure?” “Which Swift?” “No, not our own Swift?” But it was him. It was our own Swift. The very same person I sat next to in class, cracked jokes with, discussed school stress and assignment deadlines with. Just like that, he was gone.
I remember the moment the news hit our class group chat. Everything froze. The chats stopped. People were trying to process. Some were crying. Others were calling around for confirmation. The silence was loud. That night, nobody could read. How could we? How were we supposed to read for our final paper when our guy, our friend, our brother, was taken from us so violently?
Swift’s death shook the whole department. The entire class turned upside down. You could feel the pain hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. For a long time, nobody could say much. We all just carried the sorrow in our own ways. Some of us avoided talking about it, hoping it would make it less real. Others couldn’t stop talking, trying to make sense of it.
The weirdest thing is how sudden it all was , One minute we were laughing after the exam, talking about how the paper nearly finished us, the next minute neews of a bullet. News of blood. News of death.
It didn’t feel fair. It still doesn’t.....
Swift was full of life. He was the kind of person that didn’t look for trouble, didn’t raise his voice unless it was to laugh. He moved with purpose but without noise. And that’s the kind of presence you don’t just forget. Even now, when I sit in class, I glance to my side out of habit still expecting to see him there, turning his pen around his fingers, nodding at something the lecturer said, or nudging me if I start dozing off.
Sometimes I still hear his voice when I walk past the spot we usually waited at before class. Sometimes I still imagine what his reaction would be to a funny meme or something a lecturer said. It is those little memories that make this harder.
It’s also what has made it difficult for me to write this post.
Since he passed, I have been meaning to put something down in his memory. But each time I tried, the words didn’t just come out right. They felt small, too small for the weight of what I was feeling. How do you summarize a whole person in one post? .... How do you honour someone who sat with you through your academic journey, who became a familiar part of your daily life, and then, in one tragic moment, is no longer there?
But I guess writing this now is my way of finally saying goodbye.
Swift, you were more than just a seatmate. You were more than a classmate. You were my friend. You were part of my school journey in a way that no one else was. Your death hit hard. It still hurts. But your memory will stay with me, and with all of us who knew you.
You were truly “ever ready,” even when life didn’t prepare us to lose you.
Rest well, Swift. 🕊️
You Will Forever Be Missed.
IMAGES ARE FROM MY CLASS GROUP GALLERY
