I saw first and foremost that morning the vacant chair beside me. It was weird to view it in that light. That chair had always been the possession of my best friend, Seyi, during the course of two years. We exchanged all things, lecture notes, late-night jokes, our secret dreams and how we were going to start a business after graduation. However, the fact that I knew nothing beforehand, the empty chair on this particular morning made me know that something was amiss.
We were undergraduate students of Ibadan University of Civil Engineering in our final years. The classroom was already stuffy and the noise of the students was in the air. I was trying to listen to the lecturer, but my eyes were constantly moving to the empty seat of Seyi. He was never a skipped child. Not once.
After class, I called him. No answer. I texted. No reply. I was not informed of this until much later in the evening when I received a message, not by him, but by our supervisor, Dr. Adebayo.
"Please, Adeshina, come to my office tomorrow. Your project submission needs to be discussed."
The words were not as suspicious in the beginning. But the next day, I understood.
Seyi was already in the office when I entered in a calm manner across the supervisor. Too calm. There was a printed project on the table- our project. Well at least we were supposed to do it. The title was identical, but under the name "Author," there was just one name, that of Seyi Adekunle.
I froze.
"Good morning, sir," I was able to say.
Dr. Adebayo gazed at me rather mildly confused. You and Seyi not working together, "Adeshina? I thought. He submitted first.”
My mouth went dry. “Separately? Sir, we worked together. We did it all together in that project, everything there."
Seyi’s face didn’t move. He maintained a low glance, and was playing with the pen in his hand.
"That is true," the supervisor asked him.
Seyi sighed softly. "Yes, sir, we both began it. But Adeshina ceased to make meals. I had to finish it alone.”
The words struck out like a blow to my stomach. I couldn’t speak for a moment. I felt my heartbeat in my ears.
"No, that is not true," I trembled out. The running of the field analysis, the simulation, the data all that was my job, Seyi!"
Dr. Adebayo leaned back. “Gentlemen, calm down. We’ll look into it.”
But we were both acquainted with that. When a report was filed it was difficult to unfile it, just as it is difficult to hold smoke in your hands.
After the meeting, I was able to meet with Seyi outside, under the mango tree close to the Faculty building.
“Why did you do that?” I asked. I had little voice, too much fatigued to be angry.
He looked away. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
He finally met my eyes. “I needed the credit. My scholarship depends on it. My parents.. they cannot pay the next session in case I lose it."
"You figured it was the solution to betray me?" I asked.
He didn’t answer. Someone honked his car and he took that as an opportunity to walk away.
For days, I couldn’t focus. I barely spoke in class. I did not go to a canteen where we ate together. I was not even able to touch the project files in my laptop. It was as though they were looking at an open sore.
But life didn’t stop. Our final defense day came. I drove out alone, with my copy of the backup. The panel was informed of what transpired. They stood and listened, without expression. One of them enquired, “Do you have evidence of your input?"
I inserted my flash disk and demonstrated them all the steps, all the simulation files and all stamped and signed with my student ID.
My presentation was followed by a silence in the room.
After two weeks, I received a message that arrived in my inbox.
“Project approved. Mark: A. Co-authorship reinstated."
I was looking intensely at the screen and was not sure whether to be happy or empty. After that, I did not see Seyi again. At school, he did not approach me until graduation.
Months after that I saw him at the convocation, standing with his father and mother. He appeared thinner, older somehow. There was a moment when our eyes looked at each other for a moment. He nodded, almost apologetically, nearly remembering, and went off.
The seat alongside mine had no one occupying it.