I never imagined that a day meant for joy would mark the painful end of a friendship I had cherished for years. This is my story — raw, honest, and unfortunately true.
I met her during NYSC, and from that moment we became inseparable... until January this year, when everything fell apart after her wedding in Awka, Anambra State.
What I Did for Her Wedding
I went above and beyond because I loved her like a sister:
- I told my toxic boss I was attending the wedding no matter what — even if it cost me my job (and I eventually resigned).
- I travelled from Lagos multiple times to help her shop for outfits, hair, shoes, and accessories — all at my own expense.
- I spent over ₦160,000 of my money on her wedding hair alone after the vendor refused to exchange the first one.
- I sourced the makeup artist, helped with outfit choices, selected colours of the day, traditional attire, and white wedding dress — she consulted me on every decision.
- I arrived three days early just to support her.
- Even while on my period — with heavy flow, cramps, headaches, and nausea — I still ran around the hotel helping with decorations while others took pictures.
I gave everything I had, physically and emotionally.
How I Was Treated on the Wedding Day
Despite all I did, this is what I got in return:
- No seat was reserved for the asoebi girls. We were scattered everywhere, standing under the sun for hours.
- The MC announced loudly that the canopies were “not for asoebi girls” and ordered us to leave.
- When I became weak, nauseous, and politely asked her friend’s older brother for water, he shouted at me publicly:
“Did I invite you to this wedding? If you need anything, go and meet the person who invited you. We don’t cater for strangers here!” - My handbag — with valuables like power bank and earpods — which I left in her husband’s house, was taken by a random teenage girl (later discovered to be the groom’s niece). She emptied it, used it for the wedding, and when confronted, ran to tell her mother I was “harassing” her.
- The chief bridesmaid, who was supposed to be the star of the train, was missing for most of the event because she arrived late — yet somehow I was painted as the enemy of progress.
- At the end of the night, my friend broke down crying, accusing me of ruining her wedding because the other asoebi girls refused to dance — as if I could control them while sitting far away, exhausted, dusty, and emotionally drained after being made to stand in a renovation area outside the venue.
It was humiliating. It was heartbreaking.
The Final Straw
The next morning, I woke up early to retrieve my things from her house before heading to my village for my uncle’s burial.
Only to be told the house keys had been mistakenly taken to the village by her brother-in-law.
I waited until 12pm.
I missed the burial.
Days later, her elder sister added me back into the asoebi group chat just to insult me publicly:
- “She’s an enemy of progress…”
- “She pretends to love my sister but came to scatter the wedding…”
- “She’s jealous because she will never marry…”
That was the final time I spoke to any of them.
What Hurts the Most
I gave everything — money, time, energy, loyalty, and love — not because I expected anything in return, but because I genuinely valued her.
Yet I was insulted, humiliated, blamed for things I didn’t do, and discarded like I meant nothing.
The painful truth is this:
Some people will forget every sacrifice you made and remember only the one moment you didn’t meet their unrealistic expectations.
A Message From Me
I’m sharing this story not for pity, but as a reminder:
Protect your heart.
Not everyone who calls you bestie values you the way you value them.
— Chidimma Mbonu
(As told to ReportNaija)
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