He didn’t like when I called him that, he much preferred to be called Antro. I suppose the great tragedy of having friends with a large generational gap is that the possibility of losing them early is high. I stopped using the label of best friend in primary school because I recognized early that love had conditionalities but if I were to resurrect the label it would be just for you. I just wish I could do the same for you now.
We met some years ago, in an unnecessarily cold conference room to talk about social planning. You held the post as the government’s social planner but you were a “troublemaker” like me. I could tell and well the rest was history as they say. We bonded over thoughts and conversations, spoken and unspoken. You made me feel not weird for always thinking about saving the world-about unions, about families of those the society has marginalized and scorned, and about social science. You were the funniest there ever was, my best friend. Though very very serious about the Liverpool football franchise- that was not a laughing matter. So serious that there was a flag taking up an entire wall in your old office. I couldn’t blame you, that was your home but so was Belize. You were a scouser through and through who loved a cold Belikin light. Our favourite pass time was a good bar and us, making all the men at the bar jealous- we laughed about this some days ago. We never took photos- we were too busy indulging in the moments I suppose. You shared with me music, books, and article after article about what it meant to be alive, reinforcing what it meant to care about people and not just money, to embody that famous Martin Niemöller quote. You had a beautiful mind and a wonderful heart. Unafraid of imperfection, champion of simplicity and a good curse word.
Hold on to that bottle of Spice Rum you promised, your reflection in the bottle is the last photo I have of you.
My dearest, my heart hurts. There are no words, “I sit in the presence of rain in the sky’s wild noise…I intend to turn a sky of tears for you.” My life will have fewer laughs without you, less music, fewer books, less love, and less you. There’s an empty stool at the bar of my heart, always. I will watch reruns of Liverpool games with you, just for you. We can maybe watch some ‘Yes Minister’ too? Because I’ve known you, I know “walk on with hope in your heart and you’ll never walk alone.”
I am so grateful to have been loved by you and to love you, beyond this.