How Much Was It?

I scored high on my 8th grade national exam. Life had shifted dramatically for me. Students I barely knew would greet me in the school, seek my advice, and even buy me Qoqer. High school was a whirlwind—it felt good, I won’t lie.

*

Mulualem was larger than life. He wasn’t just a friend—he was the friend everyone wanted to have. I don’t know why everyone avoided him. He’s generous and fiercely protective, he made me feel invincible. “Kaleb, I’ve got your back,” he’d often say, and he meant it. If I ever faced opposition, Mulualem was the first to defend me. He was the first one to ask me if I had eaten my lunch. We first met during the class Chemistry exam. He was sitting beside me.

He’s nice. I don’t know why everyone was against him.

*

I don’t have my own phone—one of the many tiny luxuries of high school life. I do have many friends, though. They are very happy to give me theirs. I love playing games. And Abeni, yet another friend, also loves to play mobile games. He doesn’t have his own phone either. Worse, no one would lend him one. So, we’d take turns playing the game on a borrowed phone. On the one I borrowed.

One ordinary day, on the morning break, I was playing Subway Surfers. Abeni sat next to me, waiting for his turn. We played in turns, each failure greeted by good-natured ribbing. At some point, I felt the urge to pee. I handed the phone to him.

“I’ll be back.”

“Don’t take too long,” he said, seeming to be engrossed in the game. When I returned, Abeni was gone.

*

Elsa and I had been inseparable during primary school. We used to study together. On exam nights, he’d ask permission to stay over, bringing his aunt’s phone so we could secretly play games until dawn. Somehow, we’d still ace our exams, earning more nights like those. Yet, with the rise of my popularity, our bond quietly faded. I didn’t plan to ignore him; it just… happened. I was swept up in the newness of high school and the laughter of new friends.

And in the comforting presence of Mulualem.

*

“Where’s Abeni?” I asked a group of students nearby.

“He went that way,” one of them said, pointing toward the school gate.

No big deal, I thought. I wasn’t too worried. I figured he’d return soon, so I sat in class and waited. Five minutes passed. Then ten. The bell rang, signaling the start of our next class. Still no sign of him.

When he finally came, he looked distracted. I waved to get his attention, but he didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he was ignoring me. I asked another student to call him for me.

“What’s up?” Abeni asked, walking over.

“The phone,” I whispered. “Where is it?”

“What phone?”

“The one I gave you,” I explained, my voice tinged with confusion.

He shook his head. “You had it last.”

“What?” I blinked, stunned. “I left it with you!”

Our exchange drew attention.

The teacher arrived, and I was a mess of nerves. I couldn’t focus on the lesson, my mind replaying the scene over and over. Did I really lose the phone? No, I don’t!

Just before the next class, I confronted him again.

“Think back,” I urged. “I handed it to you before I went to the toilet.”

“Kaleb, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

*

Mulualem found me walking home that day. I was alone. I was confused. I was starting to doubt myself.

“Don’t worry,” he said, patting my shoulder. “I’ll handle it.”

I wanted to believe him. Mulualem always handled things.

The next day, it was as if the news had traveled faster than I could blink. Everyone seemed to know what had happened. Eyes followed me everywhere, and the questions came like a relentless tide. Fame has its price.

Mulualem approached me during the break, with a Qoqer in his hand.

“I’m not hungry!”

“Just eat,” pushed the Qoqer toward me.

“What are you doing, Mule?” I asked.

“Taking care of things,” he replied cryptically. “Don’t worry about it.”

I wanted to believe him, but something felt off. I couldn’t sleep that night. What was Mulualem doing? Why wouldn’t he tell me?

*

Elsa handed me a few hundred birr, awkward and quiet as ever.

“Kalu,” he murmured, his voice uncertain, “This isn’t much, I know.”

“For what?!” I blurted, confused.

He sighed, almost apologizing, “Yesterday, I had nothing. This... this is all I could get for now.”

I froze. The lies, the shame, the guilt.

*

Mulualem didn’t come to school. Days passed. Days turned into weeks. He disappeared.

“How much was it?” I finally whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

“How much does it cost for someone to fade away?”

*

Later that week, I found Elsa.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“It’s fine,” I lied.

“If you need anything, let me know,” he said, his voice soft.

*

I asked his friends. I even asked for his house and went there. Mulualem was nowhere to be found. I finally reached him on the phone, but he seemed indifferent.

“I’ll send the rest of the money tomorrow,” he said.

“The rest?” At least he wasn’t lying.

The next day, a student handed me 400 birr.