Friendship was never a priority for Akutu.
Not because she didn't want it, but because life had conditioned her to believe that she didn't have time for it. Between lectures, assignments, work, and family responsibilities, socializing always felt like a luxury she couldn't afford.
But life had a way of introducing people when they were needed the most.
It started with Kwame.
Akutu had seen him around—always sitting at the back of the lecture hall, quiet but observant. They had never spoken until one evening when she stayed back after class to clarify a concept with the professor.
"You asked a good question today," Kwame said as they walked out of the lecture hall together.
Akutu was surprised. "You think so?"
Kwame nodded. "Yeah. Most people don't bother asking, even when they're confused."
From that day, they started talking more.
Kwame had a way of making difficult topics seem simpler, and Akutu found herself enjoying their academic discussions. But soon, their conversations went beyond coursework.
"Why do you always look so serious?" Kwame asked one afternoon.
Akutu laughed. "Because life is serious."
Kwame shook his head. "Maybe. But you should allow yourself to enjoy it sometimes."
It was a simple statement, but it stayed with her.
Then came Sarah.
Akutu met her in the creative writing workshop she had joined.
Sarah was different from Olivia—she was outspoken, expressive, and had a contagious energy.
"You're really good at this," Sarah said after reading one of Akutu's short stories.
Akutu smiled shyly. "I'm just trying."
Sarah grinned. "Well, keep trying. Because I think you have something special."
Their friendship grew effortlessly.
Sarah was the kind of person who encouraged Akutu to do things she wouldn't normally do.
One evening, she dragged Akutu to an open-mic poetry session on campus.
Akutu didn't perform, but she listened. She watched as people poured their emotions into words.
And for the first time, she understood the power of expression.
Then, there was Malik.
Malik worked at the same tutoring center as Akutu.
At first, he seemed intimidating—confident, opinionated, and always ready with a sharp remark.
But one evening, as they walked home together, he surprised her.
"You know," he said, "I respect you."
Akutu raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Malik shrugged. "You work hard. You don't complain. A lot of people don't realize how tough that is."
Akutu was taken aback.
She had spent so long pushing forward that she had never thought about how others saw her.
That night, she realized something important—sometimes, people saw strength in her that she didn't even recognize in herself.
Friendships weren't something Akutu had planned for.
But now, she understood—they weren't just distractions.
They were reminders that life wasn't meant to be walked alone.
The pulleys of life had shifted once again.