— As told by Bola
I’m sitting by the window, my legs stretched out, enjoying a warm cup of tea. There’s music playing softly in the background, it’s Joju’s playlist, of course, and I can hear the girls laughing in the kitchen, trying to cook jollof rice in a Moroccan villa.
It almost feels like 1999 again. Back in school, in our navy-blue skirts and oversized blouses, swearing that when we were older, we’d travel the world together.
We didn’t know when or how, but we promised each other. And today, over 30 years later, we finally made it happen.
Meet the Girls: A Lifetime in Between
After graduation, everything started changing. We attended different universities but stayed in touch through letters.
Mide was the first to get married at 23. She became a lawyer and had her first child before the rest of us had even figured out our NYSC placements. She was always the responsible one, the planner, the listener, the one who prayed for all of us, even when we were too tired to believe for ourselves.
Then she lost her husband four years ago; his death took a toll on her and the children. I still remember the voice note she sent; it broke us. We couldn’t be there physically, but we all sent her Lovebox cards and gifts that week. And somehow, it helped. She said she slept with our messages under her pillow. That’s the kind of bond we had.
Joju was fire and flair. She didn’t follow any conventional path. She dropped a bank job to learn tailoring under a mama in Mushin, started posting on Instagram before anyone understood content creation, and now runs her fashion outfit. She raised her daughter mostly alone, and with so much joy and style, it’s hard not to be inspired by her.
She is the reason this trip left the “Wozzup group chat.” Every December, without fail, she’d drop a message: “Ladies, when are we going to travel the world together? We’re not getting younger, oh!”
Siyah used to be the soft one, but life toughened her. Her marriage looked perfect from the outside, but behind closed doors, she was slowly disappearing. It took courage to leave, to rediscover herself, and to admit she was tired.
But in all of that, she never stopped showing up for us. Her Lovebox cards were always the most thoughtful, filled with deep reflections and reminders of our worth, sometimes even including poems.
Amaka was always the most mysterious, an investment banker. She’s the one who never jokes with her money or her friends. Late bloomer in love, but solid to the core. She’s the one who taught us how to invest, how to rest, and how to mind our business.
She doesn’t send emotional messages, but her gifts are elegant and precise. One time, she sent each of us a copy of Michelle Obama’s Becoming with a gold bookmark engraved with our names.
And then there’s me, Bola.
A teacher who became a children’s book author. I am married with three kids, living a quiet life. I don’t talk much in the group chat, but I listen. I save all the pictures, archive the birthday posts, and keep screenshots of their texts. It makes all sense that I’m the one writing this.
How Lovebox Kept Us Together
Life has pulled us in different directions; through time zones, parenting, grief, career changes, body changes, and silence. But through it all, Lovebox gave us a way to stay close. It was the glue that strengthened our bond.
We started sending each other gifts and cards during the big moments, and then, the small ones too. We sent a card when Joju’s daughter turned 10 and sent flowers, chocolate and a customised card with voicenotes from each of us when Mide passed her first exam after her husband’s death.
Somehow, Lovebox became more than a gifting platform; it became the thread that tied us back together every single time life tried to make us drift.
The Trip That Took 30 Years
We began planning in January.
Mide, the organiser, whipped up a spreadsheet with tabs for budgets, flights, and outfit inspo. It took us over two months and several voice notes laced with laughter and fake threats to finally agree on a destination.
Paris felt too familiar, Dubai felt too fast, and Zanzibar was tempting, but we chose Morocco. There was something about its colours, bold yet earthy, and the hush of the desert that felt just right. Like the country itself was inviting us to breathe, to exhale, to remember.
And when we arrived at the villa in Marrakesh, all five of us, in one place again, it didn’t feel like just another trip. It felt like homecoming.
We cooked barefoot in the kitchen, danced to old songs in matching Ankara boubous, and laughed like girls who had never grown apart. We cried as we read letters to our younger selves, prayed for the friends we’d lost and the women we’d become, and laughed until our fears dissolved into the night air. On our last evening, we exchanged gifts, a quiet tradition reborn.
Mide gave us custom bracelets with our initials. Joju got a perfume set. Amaka whispered, “Document your joy,” as she handed us journals. Siyah, ever tender, gave us handwritten letters. And I gave them Lovebox cards again, each one with the same message: “This trip was the dream. You girls are the miracle.”
In that moment, we knew this trip meant more than rest or escape; it was restoration. It meant the promises we made as teenagers, spoken in dorm rooms and scrawled in yearbooks, still had life. It meant that even after missed birthdays, broken hearts, and long silences, we could still find our way back to each other.
Stay in Touch, Like We Did
We didn’t just survive life, we carried each other through it.
And if someone comes to mind while reading this, don’t wait for the perfect timing. Reach out now, say the words, plan the trip and celebrate the moments, big or small.
And when you want to make it extra special, use Lovebox, the gifting platform that helped us stay connected across distance and time.
Because sometimes, a thoughtful gift says what words alone can’t.
Send a gift through Lovebox today
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