6 Feet Deep

Okay! Some weeks ago, I was reading a book about building wealth and creating generational income, and there was one line that hit me differently. It said, "The words we say can do more damage than silence ever could, leaving scars that linger long after the moment has passed."

I was like wow! There have been so many moments in my life where I wished I had just stayed silent and walked away. But sometimes, emotions get the best of you. You speak without realizing the weight of your words and in the heat of the moment, the words keep coming out and just like that you have said things you dont really mean!

Sadly, sometimes, no amount of "I am sorry" or "I am truly sorry" can heal the wounds we've caused with our words. Some people stay broken forever.

No matter the number of hugs, apologies, gifts, or promises, some wounds remain unhealed. The holes created, remain holes, they are covered for some time but when the wind blows, it opens up the wound. It takes a miracle to heal completely from that kind of pain. This is not a joke! I am serious!

I remember when my class teacher in JS3, once asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. With all the excitement in my heart, I looked her in the eyes and said, "One day, I'll be the best lawyer in this country!" She stared at me like I was dirt and laughed, saying, "You? A lawyer? Not in my lifetime. You're useless." The class went silent, and I sank into my chair. And every day since Js3, think about it. JS3 till this very moment when you can hear my voice, that moment has never left me. Even though I forgave Mrs. Brown when she later apologized and claimed she was just joking, I've learned that it takes two people to share a joke.

Years later, I can still feel the sting of that moment. I realize now that I could have just stayed silent and maybe I would have become a lawyer and not a random guy telling stories on podcasts for laughs or maybe I would have moved on to show her I was right and watch her die. But I didn't. Instead, I drowned. And I've never quite forgiven myself for speaking up that day. I grew up with parents and siblings who do not use vulgar or curse words, Do you think it's a coincidence I dont use vulgar words on the podcast?

I've seen how powerful words can be. You can hate Mrs Brown but I am not innocent too, I once jokingly called someone ugly, not knowing how deeply it would affect him. For three years, he struggled with that label. Three Years! His parents never called him that. So who the hell am I? He was already going through something, and my words were the final push.

Some people take years to heal, while others never do. I know a lady who started using drugs because her own mother called her worthless. Now her mom is paying millions of Naira to get treat her daughter and gain back the innocence she threw away with one word.

Our words have immense power. And today's story is about a time I truly wished I had kept my mouth shut. Edgar doesn't lie.

Love is a complex fabric, woven with threads of joy, pain, and everything in between. It shapes us, teaches us and sometimes It leaves us with scars that remind us of what we've lost. Today, I want to share a story about a girl named Olamide, a lady whose innocence amazes me. I have many reasons to hesitate in telling this story, but I feel compelled to share it. Someone out there needs to hear it.

I will never wish any of my exes dead. Why? Perhaps I'd wish them to be a bit humbled, maybe even blinded by the truth, but not dead. Why? Yes, some lovers have hurt me in the past and I have hurt people too. You serve me breakfast, I order lunch and dinner for you. Crazy things have happened. I've cried over breakups, and I've seen others weep because of my actions. Life is a crazy full circle, and love is a complex fabric you have to put on with a smile, take off the fabric and society sees you as heartless, you must love someone or something or even yourself. Do you know some people dont love themselves? It's disheartening to think that some people struggle to love themselves. Anyways, wishing someone death in this world is extreme!

Just because we didn't work out doesn't mean you're not perfect for someone else. We all have types, specs and values. Two wonderful people may not necessarily form a perfect relationship. Sure, if our values align, there's a chance. But if you love dogs and I dislike animals or if I enjoy chatting with my exes and you find that unacceptable then certainly there is a problem somewhere. And if we can't fix it then it's fine. No hard feelings.

I have met women and dated a few but of all the women I know, Olamide is the only lady I can say with my small chest that I can call perfect. She is beautiful in and out, always smiling and ready to share her smile with you. When Olamide enters a room, she brings happiness with her. Her favourite phrases, "Are you okay?" and "Smile now", echo with genuine concern. She has this incredible ability to stay by your side, singing songs and tickling you until laughter spills out uncontrollably.

So, how did I meet Olamide, and what mistakes did I make along the way? The story I'm about to share may stir some emotions. This isn't a lighthearted tale; it's an apology, a heartfelt message to a friend I truly care for. And as for the question of why I'm still single? Well, that will be revealed after a short break!

Tired of waking up in the morning to a lonely bed? Has your pillow been giving you the silent treatment? Are you tired of rewatching old romantic movies, wondering when it'll finally be your turn to fall in love while walking in the rain, hand-in-hand with your soul mate? Well, we have absolutely nothing to solve that problem. I'm here to offer you… nothing. No miracle cure, no magic potion, not even a free T-shirt. Just the smooth, buttery sound of my voice.

BUT! If you have a business, a product, or even a secret family recipe for jollof rice that you think the world needs to know about, here's your chance! Until I get real sponsors with actual products, you'll have to endure these silly ads. But you can change that! Yes, YOU can be the hero of this podcast by sponsoring an episode! Send an email to edgar@checkedgar.com if you want to hear your business being advertised in the smoothest, most handsomely voiced way possible.

Until then… well, brace yourselves, CheckMates, this is what you get.

Back in my days as a student at the University of Lagos, something wild and unexpected happened. My friend, Steve Chuks, had an idea so brilliant that it almost felt dangerous. He created a group called The No Chill Zone. It wasn't your average WhatsApp group; Noooo! It was a carefully selected crew of about 20 students from different universities across Nigeria, UNILAG, Ife, UI, LASU, you name it. So many mad and amazing people were in this group. Trust me, some of your favourite celebrities and influencers today were in it. It was wild. Just when you think one person is height of madness, they add another tall mad person. It was crazy!

But this wasn't just a chat group; it was a movement. Every Friday evening, without fail, Steve's place became the ultimate destination. Forget the usual TGIFs, this was on another level. Games, drinks, brownies, wild dancing, kissing, crazy romance and a vibe that made every member feel like they were part of something exclusive. The kind of fun that kept you up at night thinking, "I can't miss next week."

There was one catch, though, a strict, unbreakable rule, no dating within the group. Steve, in his infinite wisdom, knew that as soon as feelings started mixing with fun, the whole thing would crumble. He warned us: "Relationships will ruin this. No Private Hangout"

And, as if Steve had seen it coming in a dream, you know how Nigerians can be, tell them not to do something, and that's exactly when their body starts itching to do that thing. What was supposed to be innocent fun turned into private chats, secret meetings, and secret flings. People were doing things on a low!

Now, I won't lie, at first, I followed the rules. But then, the day Olamide joined the group, everything changed. I just knew I was going to break the rule too sometime in the future. How can one human being be fine like two people? I did not even care about The No chill zone, we can chill in our different zones. Olamide came with her small fancy black car with the learner sign on it.

Olamide wasn't like the others. She was a breath of fresh air. She seemed so innocent, so delicate. Olamide should be spending her Fridays in the library or even in church watching the Passion of the Christ. Not here with people who had no passion for Christ. She didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't dance like the rest of us, and had zero interest in anything that could be considered reckless. All she did was smile, laugh at our crazy jokes, and serve small chops and drinks like someone sharing communion. You know all those girls that won't do anything bad but if you need someone to cheer you up when you're doing nonsense, she is the person!

Her presence was magnetic. No matter how wild the Friday nights got, Olamide remained the sweetest, most grounded person in the room. And because of how she behaved, I just liked her. Maybe it was the little alcohol I took but the spirit was saying "She is your wife to be, talk to her, talk to her, go, go, go!" Me too I went. Only God knows the kind of spirit that was advising me. Maybe it was a methylated spirit or Gin. I dont even know. All I remember is that it told me to go.

I went to sit next to her. She was reading one Harry Potter novel like that. I think it was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire! Now, to be honest, I dont like reading novels, anything too long, count me out. It if is more than two paragraphs, I am not interested. But that day, I had to form like one smart literature icon.

As she was reading, I asked her my first question "Sorry to disturb you but is that Harry Potter?" like I didn't see the book. She looked at me for a second and said "Yes it is" do you read J.K Rollings Novels?" Now, you have to understand something, I did not even know who I.J.K. Rollings was but I knew that saying No would affect the way she sees me. So I said Yes. She now asked me "Oh that's interesting, which one is your favourite?" what did you think I would say, I said everything, I love everything. She started laughing, and she said you must be a real fan then, I started nodding my head like an agama lizard.

Like, play, like play. I dont even know how I told her I have a library in my father's house with over 150 novels. She was so excited. She asked for my number and begged me to bring some books for her. If you see the way I was raising my shoulder in pride, you will think I was J.K Rollings.

After a while, the literature conversations turned into something deeper. She told me about her childhood and how she grew up in a quiet, close family that valued education. She asked me what I was studying and why I chose Unilag. If you see the way I was lying just to impress this girl ehn. Guy the devil dey learn! I told her I was one of the highest during jamb and that I got 388. That the different universities were begging me to come to their school to study law but I chose creative arts because my Dad offended me and I wanted to punish him. She was so emotional, she wanted to know more about my relationship with my dad. Me that was talking with alcohol in my head. I was just pouring out the story like it was African magic epic.

Every Friday was an opportunity to lie about my father and Harry Porter. I went to read the summary online and share it like I read it a while back. If she asks a question I do not know, I will simply laugh and say "Ahh it's been a long time you know! I can't remember, so many books". The two of us will laugh and move on.

That was how she started sending books upon books upon books on WhatsApp, I said God, what kind of wahala is this. As she was sending them I was reading the summary. She liked how fast I read. I even lied that was I was 9, I was awarded as the fastest reader in Nigeria. This girl was eating every lie, licking the plates. Omo that time ehn! I was not born again oh. That time, Edgar can lie!!!! Chai! One evening, after another week of our long, intellectual WhatsApp chats and family discussions. She dropped a bombshell. She said.

"So, when are you inviting me to your house?" she asked with a playful tone, but I could tell she was serious.

I froze for a second. Was she actually interested in visiting me? We weren't supposed to cross that line. Steve's rule flashed in my head again: "No dating, no personal visits." But I was already too far in. So, I took a deep breath and replied, "How about this weekend?"

Now, at the time, I was living in one face me I slap you apartment. Somewhere in Shomolu. That place was terrible. One room, no kitchen, no bathroom. If you want to have your bath or use the toilet, you have to use the general bathroom. As you're bathing, you're dodging bacteria. I also used the toilet in school before coming home. Anyway, when she said she was coming, I had to beg my roommate Fela, to give me some space then I called one lady who lives in the area to help me clean the house. I bought a new bedsheet and an extra pillow because I and Fela were sharing one pillow. First to sleep takes it. I made sure the place was clean enough. My prayer was that she did not ask for the toilet or bathroom when she came.

When she arrived that Saturday. She didn't complain about anything. She looked around and told me she liked the painting on the wall. We watched movies on my laptop while relaxing on my bed. As we were on the bed, I dont even know how it happened. We just held hands and made eye contact. It was so warm and cool at the same time. After a while, I ordered something for us and we ate. Before she left my house that evening she said

"Thank you, Edgar, for inviting me, I enjoyed my time here"

"I'm glad you came," I replied. She now asked if she could use the restroom, I had to take her to my friend's house down the road. It was embarrassing but she didn't complain. She understood my situation and told me it would be alright. I felt safe around her. She wasn't after my money or anything. She just genuinely liked my company.

As time went on, my feelings for Olamide grew stronger. Our conversations became more personal and more frequent. She was no longer just a member of the No Chill Zone, no longer just the girl who loved literature and brought peace to our chaotic Fridays, she had become someone I couldn't stop thinking about. Every time we spoke, I found myself getting lost in her voice, her ideas, her laughter.

But I was stuck in a dilemma. Do I ask her out or do I respect the rules of the group? I didn't want to ruin what we had, what made her so special. But the more I tried to convince myself to stay quiet, the harder it became.

So one evening, I invited her to UNILAG, I told her there was a stage play happening at my department and that she would love it. So she came to see it. After the play, we took a walk to the lagoon front to relax and talk about our day and the stage play.

As we were talking, I was barely listening. My mind was consumed by what I was about to say. Finally, I couldn't hold it any longer. I told her.

"Olamide," I said, my voice unsteady, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while now."

She looked at me, her expression calm but curious. "Are you okay? What is it?"

I took a deep breath and summoned all the Eba I had eaten the night before. "I... I have feelings for you. I've tried to ignore them, I've tried to be just your friend, but it's impossible. I like you, Olamide, more than just a friend. And just like Harry Potter, I want to be your wand."

The words were out. There was no taking them back now. My heart pounded as I waited for her response. But instead of an immediate answer, there was silence. Her face remained unreadable. I could feel the tension hanging in the air between us.

"Edgar," she started slowly, "I don't know what to say. I didn't expect this. We both know what this could mean for the group. I'm not sure if… if it's a good idea."

Ah, messup!!!!!! It wasn't the answer I'd hoped for, but I couldn't blame her. She was right, dating within the group would be complicated. It could ruin the friendship we'd built, and everything Steve had warned about seemed more real now than ever. I nodded my head and we changed the conversation back to the stage play we saw.

We continued chatting as friends and hanging out at Steve's place on Friday. We were mature about it. Until one day she sent me a message "Can we talk?"

Now I was confused, 80% of the time when a woman says, can we talk? Just know you are in serious trouble. You will talk but won't say anything. Your role in the talk is to listen as she talks.

We met at Unilag again. This time in my department. This time it felt more serious. After a few moments of awkward silence, she turned to me and spoke.

"Edgar," she began, her voice soft but steady, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said. It wasn't easy for me to process, but… the truth is, I feel the same way."

I stopped walking and looked at her, hardly believing what I was hearing.

"I didn't want to admit it," she continued, "because I was scared. Scared of what it could mean for us, for the group. But I realized… I don't want to pretend anymore either."

My heart stopped for like a minute. You needed to see me my heart dancing Ah Shoki inside. I was excited but I was forming calm. After weeks of uncertainty, after thinking I'd lost my chance, she finally said the words I'd been hoping to hear.

"I like you a lot, I dont know if this is love but I know there is something". I was just smiling. We hugged and I went home to dance my Shoki outside.

Once Olamide and I finally admitted our feelings to each other, things just naturally clicked. We didn't rush into anything, though. In fact, Olamide had this rule that she was very clear about: "Until you're sure it's love and you officially ask me to be your girlfriend, we're not a thing." She said it with such seriousness that I couldn't help but laugh, but I knew she meant it.

And let me tell you, those weeks in "relationship limbo" were some of the funniest, most unforgettable moments we shared. I remember one afternoon, we decided to grab suya from one of the best spots in Yaba. Now, if you know suya joints, you know the struggle of waiting while the aroma of grilled beef is torturing your senses. Olamide, in her typical sweet but savage way, kept teasing me the whole time.

"You can't even handle waiting for suya, Edgar," she laughed. "How are you supposed to handle asking me out officially?"

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help laughing. "Are you comparing our relationship to suya now?"

She raised an eyebrow, pretending to think about it. "Well, one is spicy, tempting, and irresistible. The other is suya."

I was just shaking my head like this one is not even serious at all.

Our outings were always an adventure. One time, we went to the movies, and it ended up being a terrible Nollywood film, it was so bad, that we enjoyed it. Halfway through, Olamide leaned over to me and whispered, "I think I could write a better script in my sleep." I started laughing so loud the guy in front of us turned around and gave us the bombastic side-eye.

We'd go for ice cream at a little spot in Surulere, and she'd order the most random combination of flavours, pineapple and chocolate, I mean who does that? I'd tease her about her weird choices, and she'd just shrug.

"I like experimenting," she'd say with a smile. "Maybe if you asked me out officially, you'd understand me better."

We went to the beach once, and it was one of those chaotic Lagos beach days. There was loud music blasting from every corner, horses running past, and random rapping for money. Just as we were about to sit down, a huge wave came out of nowhere and soaked both of us. The look on Olamide's face was priceless. I was laughing so hard I could barely stand.

"So, you won't ask me out, but you'll let me drown with you?" she said, dripping wet, still managing to crack a joke.

All her jokes were about me asking her out! I just felt it wasn't the time.

As much as we shared laughter and unforgettable moments, relationships have a way of adding sand sand to your Garri. Olamide and I were no different. What we had was special, but it wasn't perfect. And one evening, everything came crashing down.

It started like any other visit to my apartment. We were hanging out, watching a movie on my laptop, and suddenly I received a message from a friend of mine. She was checking in on me and ended her message with "I love you", now that I love you there was not anything deep. It was our way of chatting. It was harmless and had no meaning. So I wrote back "I love you too". Olamide saw it. Her attitude changed. First, she said she wasn't interested in the movie anymore. I was surprised. She was enjoying it some minutes ago.

Suddenly she turned aggressively at me and asked "Edgar do you love me?" before I could even answer, she said, "You have never said you love me before, why are you wasting my time". I was confused.

I asked her where this was coming from. She didn't respond. Instead, she asked me who the lady was. I mentioned that the lady was a friend, and Olamide called me a liar. She kept increasing her voice and started complaining about how I never really cared about her but only myself. Everything was confusing me.

"What are you talking about? "Oh Please! You're always so busy with your life, Edgar. You never make time for the things that matter to me."

Her words stung. I felt my temper rising, and before I knew it, we were arguing, really arguing. Our voices got louder, our words harsher. Every frustration, every insecurity, every issue we'd never addressed came pouring out like a tap had broken.

"You think I don't care?" I snapped. "I've always been there for you. I'm doing my best, Olamide. What more do you want?"

"I want you to stop being so selfish!" she fired back. "You act like everything revolves around you. Your work, your friends, your deadlines. What about me?"

I could feel the anger boiling over. My heart was racing, and the room suddenly felt too small, too hot. We were both saying things we didn't mean, things we couldn't take back. And then, in the heat of the moment, she crossed a line.

"And maybe it's not just you," she spat. "Maybe it's how you were raised. You dont respect your father and your mother didn't teach you anything about how to treat people."

That was it. That was the moment something inside me snapped. I love my parents more than anything, and hearing Olamide disrespect her like that pushed me over the edge.

"Get out," my voice was vibrating "Just leave my house."

She looked at me, her eyes wide with shock, but I wasn't done.

"And while you're at it, go and die for all I care!" The words were out before I could stop them. They hung in the air between us, heavy. I didn't mean them, but they felt final, irreversible.

Olamide didn't say anything. She just stared at me, hurt flashing across her face, and without another word, she grabbed her things and stormed out of my apartment. She entered her ugly black ride and zoomed off. I watched her leave, I was too angry to go after her.

Minutes passed. Hours. I paced around my apartment, replaying the argument in my head, my anger slowly giving way to guilt. I knew I shouldn't have let it get that far. I knew I'd messed up. But I had no idea just how bad things would get.

Later that night, my phone rang. It was a number I didn't recognize, so I almost didn't pick up. But something told me to answer. When I did, it was Olamide's sister on the other end, and her voice was shaking.

"Edgar," she said, her words coming out in a rush. "Olamide… she's been in an accident."

My heart stopped.

"What? What do you mean an accident?" I asked, my voice trembling as panic set in.

"I dont know, I dont know. She got hit by a car." There was a long, painful pause before she continued, her voice breaking. "She's in the hospital."

I couldn't breathe. My mind was racing, guilt and fear crashing over me like a wave. The last thing I'd said to her… the last words she heard from me were filled with anger, and now… now she was fighting for her life.

I tried calling her back but no one picked up my call. Three days later, a member of the No Chill Zone posted that Olamide had died in the group! Everything in my world stopped. It was as if time froze. I didn't want to believe it, couldn't let it sink in. But reality hit me hard the day I went to visit her parents.

I had no idea how I would face them. The guilt weighed so heavily on my chest that every step felt like I was walking into a battlefield, except this time, there were no enemies, just heartbreak. I wasn't alone, though. Some of the No Chill Zone members came with me, Steve Chuks included. It felt strange having them there like this was all a bad dream that we were still part of the same group. But now, the usual laughter and banter were gone. All that was left was silence, grief, and the unbearable weight of what had happened.

When we arrived at her family's home, everything inside me wanted to turn around and run. I couldn't do it. I didn't know what to say, or how to even begin to apologize for my role in the argument that led to her storming out that night. But I owed it to her, to her family, to be there.

Her mother was the first to greet us, eyes swollen and red from crying, and I could see it immediately, how much she looked like Olamide. It made my heart drop to my stomach. Her father sat quietly in the corner, staring into nothing like he'd lost his entire world. And maybe he had.

I walked in, trying to find the words, but nothing came out. I just stood there, feeling like the ground was crumbling beneath me. Her mother looked at me, and I could see it in her eyes, she knew. She knew about the argument. I had this overwhelming feeling of shame and guilt, but she didn't say anything about it. She just held my hand, her grip tight, and said, "She loved you, Edgar."

Those words broke me.

I wanted to scream, to tell her how sorry I was, how much I wished I could take back that last conversation, but all I could do was nod as the tears started to fall. I cried, standing there in front of her family, with the No Chill Zone crew beside me. Even they were silent. There was no 'chill' left in us. No jokes, no laughter. Just pain.

The days leading up to her funeral were a blur. I barely ate and barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face, her smile, her laugh, the way she used to tease me about not asking her out officially. Now I'd never get the chance to ask her anything again.

At her funeral, I couldn't bring myself to speak. I stood there in the crowd, surrounded by her family, friends, and people from the group. It was surreal like none of this was real. I watched as they lowered her to the ground, and that's when it truly hit me, she was gone. And the last words she heard from me were full of anger.

I've had sleepless nights replaying that argument over and over in my head. Wondering if she'd still be here if I hadn't told her to leave. If I hadn't said those cruel, unforgivable words. Would things be different? Could I have stopped her from leaving? It's the kind of guilt that never really goes away. It just lingers, sometimes in the background, sometimes right there in front of you.

Grief became my constant companion after that. It consumed me. Some days, it felt like I couldn't breathe. I didn't know how to cope, how to keep going. The No Chill Zone crew tried to help, but even they didn't know what to say. Steve would call, and check in on me, but there were no words that could make any of it better.

I learned something the hard way: words are powerful. They can build people up, or they can tear them down in an instant. We throw words around so carelessly sometimes, especially in moments of anger or frustration. But those words stick. They linger in the hearts of the people we say them to, and sometimes, like with Olamide, they're the last things they'll ever hear from us.

I wish I could go back and change that moment. I wish I had told her I loved her, that I was sorry, that we could work things out. But I can't. What I can do, though, is share this story and hope that others will learn from my mistake.

I'll never forget Olamide, and I'll never forget the lesson she taught me without even knowing it. Love deeply, forgive easily, and most importantly, choose your words wisely, because you never know when they'll be your last.

Olamide if you are listening, I want you to know that I am sorry, I did not mean those words and I love you. I hope this makes you smile. See you some other time. KSMBG. Thank you!