Reunion: Reflecting on the Past and Embracing True ConnectionsIn the midst of the COVID-19 lockdown, a reunion loomed on the horizon. It was a daunting prospect, seven years removed from graduation, and I found myself engulfed by trepidation. The achievements of my peers, now successful men and women, were well-documented, and the thought of attending the gathering was overwhelming. I had nearly resolved to avoid it, to escape the potential pity or the whispers of gossip that might follow my presence.However, a fellow alumnus reached out with words of encouragement, suggesting the possibility of reconnecting with classmates who could offer support. Taking that advice, I ventured to the reunion, accompanied by a colleague.The event was a whirlwind of enthusiasm and warmth, but amidst the backslaps and joyous exclamations, I couldn't shake a sense of inadequacy. As my peers boasted of their accomplishments, I retreated to a corner, grappling with my own lack of notable successes. Thankfully, I was spared the need to share, as I was never called upon to speak.The reunion concluded, and I departed unnoticed, my contact information unrequested, my presence barely acknowledged. It was a departure that left me feeling more isolated than before.Months passed, and my circumstances began to shift. Employment came my way, along with opportunities in farming. Fortune smiled upon me, and I found prosperity. Marriage followed, and I took on the role of benefactor, sponsoring others and becoming an influential figure in my own right.When the 15-year reunion was announced, I was ready to make a statement. I prepared to attend with all the trappings of my newfound success, eager to share my story and perhaps, to revel in the recognition of my peers. But a moment of clarity, aided by my wife's counsel, prompted a reevaluation of my motives. Was I seeking validation, or subject to the allure of fleeting adulation and potential envy?I chose a different path. Instead of attending, I decided to reach out to five classmates who were facing their own struggles, offering them the support they needed to advance in their lives. My assistance was discreet, yet impactful, and it did not go unnoticed. Though I was absent from the reunion, my actions spoke volumes, and I was commended for my contributions.This experience was a poignant lesson. The friends who matter are those who stand by you when success is but a distant dream, not those who are drawn to the superficial allure of wealth and status. Let us remember to extend a hand to those among us who have yet to find their footing, for as the Yoruba adage goes, "Ajo je o dun beni kan o ni"—the feast is less sweet when not all can partake in its bounty.