Kingsley Okeke @kingsleychi

Very funny how some human beings make decisions, and sometimes I′m bothered by just how people think. So, our working space was already paid for in full during the start of the new year. We had paid and renewed, and with a very good and strong relationship, we sealed the deal with the landlord.

Fast forward to two weeks ago, suddenly we received a letter in our office desk. It was inscribed that we were given an extra two weeks to vacate the premises - our working space. Not just us, our working space. We had been occupying this space for over three years now, and you know how position affects business. Any sudden change in position of business location could either lead to the crumbling of the business or a miraculous turnover.

However, we went ahead to fix a meeting with the landlord, and while we conversed, we realized that it wasn′t in bad terms that he asked us to vacate the premises, but rather he was handing over the property to the church for some private, confidential use. And he mentioned that he would be refunding us in full.

I thought that my boss would still be displeased about that, but I noticed later on that he was happy already. He had seen a space that he was wanting to move into the next year if it was still available, and that was the best option. They had better prices; in fact, about 30% off the price that he paid for the building that we were about to vacate.

But then I asked myself, what if he didn′t have this space already planned out? What would have been his fate? And then I asked him, how about changing locations? Wouldn′t that affect our business? But then he was confident. This was because majorly, a high rate of our customers was virtual. Yes, real estate in modern times is now almost hundred percent virtual, so we wouldn′t be much affected.

We had moved into the new location, and everything is still going very nicely and well, almost even more nicely.

I was just fifteen steps away from my house when I struck my foot against a stone. The pain shot through my back to my brain, even though I had hit my toe. I grunted and examined my toe, seeing blood cushioning from it - it was bleeding badly.

I ran home to get a clean piece of cloth and tied it around my toe to stop the bleeding. Surprisingly, the pain disappeared right after I tied the cloth. I couldn′t feel my toe anymore, but the pain was gone.

I thought about carrying on with my day, but my siblings advised against it. I knew I needed a tetanus injection, but I thought I could finish some tasks first since the pain had subsided. My siblings weren′t having it, so I went to the nearest chemist.

The health attendant examined my toe and said the cut was deep and needed stitching. That′s when I realized how badly I had injured myself. It was supposed to be a normal day, but now my toe was hurting.

I treated it and went home. Now the pain′s back and I can′t move my leg properly. Hoping it′ll get better in a few days and my toe will heal fully.

I stepped out of the hall to get some fresh air as the program was ending. I found a comfortable area with concrete seats and sat down. An older lady was already seated, focused on her phone. I brought out mine too, just scrolling through to unwind small, I was tired from the program, lots of shouting about educative stuff, I was just bored and glad it was ending.

Two young men approached us, greeted, but I wasn′t interested, too tired as I said. I acted nonchalant to their advance, so they engaged the older lady more. They told her a story which I didn′t catch the details, but I heard one of them say that they just stole his phone and he needed to call it. I wasn′t interested, felt bad for him though, but my body wasn′t reacting.

The woman innocently showed sympathy, making exclamations, and handed her phone over, telling them to call it, that she had enough airtime. Before I knew what was happening, this woman was shouting, standing, beating herself up and I couldn′t find the two boys anywhere around her again.
Those two boys stole her phone and ran. It was all a tactic, the story they told her was all a deceitful lie. They ran with it before anybody knew what was happening. They were out of the area, nobody could chase or identify. Me, I felt bad for the woman though , I didn′t know what to do (remember, I was to tired)

When I showed Emeka the credit alert, the credit notification from Mindviewers website, he wasn′t moved by it. Actually, I had invited him to join the platform days ago, but he told me he would rather wait for proof of payment before he partook in the activities there.

I tried to make him see reasons to join earlier - not only for the monetary benefit, but also for the things he stands to gain, like easy access to news, meeting people... and he was old enough, he needed to be in a relationship, I thought. And then Mindviewers had just started this companionship program. I tried, but he was reluctant. He needed to see withdrawal proof.

Once the notification for the credit entered, I showed it to him. I thought that would prove it to him, I thought that would make him create his own account immediately and earn me a referral reward. But no. Instead, he told me I could double that money. I was inquisitive, how do I double the money? Perhaps this guy has more updates, more money-making information than me.

He called me into the sitting room, and we began to go through the process of doubling the money. He told me to open Spotybet. And then he flashed on my head - I was not about to lose my money. I didn′t want to lose that money; in fact, I had budgeted the withdrawal from Mindviewers for what I needed it for.

I told him I don′t bet and I don′t gamble, but he told me it wasn′t betting. He said I should just download the Spotybet app, so I did. He showed me a game - he told me he would replace any money I lose. I said okay since he was going to refund me if he lost my money.

The game involved clicking on a bottle, and then the bottle spun to different directions - the direction depends on whether you win or lose. He flicked it and he won. He did it a second time, he won. He doubled the money. He gave me the phone and asked me to try. I tried, the first time I clicked the bottle, it spun around... I lost. He told me I could try again. I tried and lost. That was how we continued until I lost the whole amount.
Emeka never repayed, he only claimed that it was my own carelessness that led to the total loss.
Since then I have been more uninterested about gambling or anything related.

There is this northern boy who was put in charge of a commercial water place around my neighborhood. the place was a subterranean water reservoir where people came to buy gallons of water. this little northern boy was responsible for collecting the money and keeping all the financial records of the water sales.

the first time i tried to talk to him he couldn′t understand English at all. the only thing he could relate to was the numbers and the prices i mentioned even after I quickly switched to broken English and vernacular, he still only caught the figures. most of the time whenever I came around he looked dull and sad because there was no one to converse with. everyone else in the area was from a different tribe, and they spoke a language he didn’t understand, so he was usually alone.

One day i saw another boy, about the same age, hanging around the water stall. this boy was lively and kept asking the northern boy questions. at first i thought he was just being a nuisance, as the northern boy maintained a straight face. However, as the other boy kept coming around each day, the northern boy began to lighten up. He changed and started to smile at the customers more often. eventually the two boys became friends, even though they still had a language barrier.

The lively boy who I first thought was a nuisance started teaching the northern boy his own language, and the northern boy tried to pick up a few words in return. their conversations sounded funny and broken, but the friendship grew stronger.

Whenever i passed by now I am always overjoyed that this little northern boy who was once lonely, was now able to use simple sentences in our own language to greet me.
I appreciate the friendliness of the initially assumed nuisance and the way they’ve managed to connect despite the odds.

When I was younger there was this movie that my brother used to taunt me with. It was a scary one, and it sent chills down my spine. I never wanted to watch it, especially when night fell.

One evening we were all in the sitting room with my parents, my siblings, and me. My brother put the movie on, and I could already see some gurry parts. I was terrified, but I couldn’t leave the room. I clung to my mother, gripping her tighter as the scary scenes unfolded. I thought about going to the bedroom, but it was empty and being alone would have made the terror worse.

When the movie finally ended, it was time for bed. I rushed to the restroomfirst to ease myselft. As I opened the door to step out, my brother jumped out at me, shouting in a weird scary manner. I was startled more than ever in my life, my heart raced and I felt like my skin was about to leave my bones. I cried, but I promised myself I would get revenge someday.

A few days later, a neighbor had a frightening encounter with a snake. The snake had entered under his bed, and the story spread quickly. It was the second snake sighting in the neighborhood. The first victim had been bitten but survived, the second managed to get rid of the snake before any harm was done.
We all gathered to hear the details, and my brother, who was terrified of snakes, was there watching the whole scene.

Later that night, after we returned home, I found a piece of cloth with snake‑like markings on it. I cut a long strip, shaped it like a snake, and, with the help of my elder sisters, I tied it to my brother’s leg while he was about to fall into a deep sleep.
At my signal we all shouted Snake! and watched as he jumped up, eyes wide, thinking a real snake was crawling up his body. He ranout and around the house frantically, until our uncle caught him and showed him that it was only a piece of cloth.

He was shaking and crying, but I felt a small satisfaction. It was my turn to give him a taste of his own medicine, and with my sisters backing me up, he couldn’t do anything about it.

I spent a long time getting ready for my uncle’s wedding. I arranged all the clothes and my own outfit, and the tailor had already sewn the selected fabrics. I was going to be one of the best men, and for the cultural part of the ceremony we had to wear a special traditional outfit, the one I gave to the tailor.

I felt the tailor overcharged me because of the new style I introduced, but I was confident he would do a good job and I paid him. He was very talented.
My uncle’s wedding was scheduled for the day after Christmas, which I wasn’t comfortable with, though I won’t go into why.

The tailor finished my outfit two days before Christmas. He did postpond his trip to the village by a day so he could complete the work. Everything was ready, and I was grateful for how the outfit turned out.

On the wedding day we went to the ceremony and I noticed something about the bride’s family, they were running late in all they were doing especially with the rope‑cutting and other rites, and because of this, the event didn’t finish until about 10PM.
Despite the delay, the ceremony went smoothly and I loved everything about it. I pray God blesses my uncle’s marriage.

I sat down, still surprised, after the second round arrived. We were already full, we had eaten just before heading to the hotel to have drinks together as friends. About four of us were there, and they kept ordering: first pepper‑soup meat, then catfish, then wild meat, and on it went. It started to bother me because I hadn’t planned to spend a lot; I didn’t even know how pricey the hotel’s exotic dishes were. Still, I kept enjoying myself while questioning every bite.

Just when I thought it was over, they ordered four barbecue plates with a price tag of 26,000 “Come on,” I thought, “I agreed to have fun, not to break the bank.” There was entertainment going on, everyone was happy, and after more than two years we’d all returned to the village. The four of us were excited to see each other again.

When the bill finally came, I felt relieved because it was an amount I could afford, even though I hadn’t planned to spend that much. But right as I was about to pay, they objected, as if I shouldn’t have to. They went ahead and paid the full amount without me. Then one friend reminded me that he did forget to celebrate my last birthday, using it as an atonement and an apology. I couldn’t help but smile like a girl; it meant a lot.

I really ate a lot and my stomach feels overweight, and just coming back, I said let me gossip with una small.

Hunting for a house in Enugu, and let me tell you, it turned out to be a whole saga. I had been looking for a place to stay for weeks, scrolling through every self‑contain listing I could find on every WhatsApp group, hoping to snatch something decent before the month ended. Most of the ads showed a nice little room, with a kitchen, a bathroom and everything I needed at a price tag of 400k for the first year. That sounded fair, right? I thought I could finally stop the whole hunting stress and have a roof over my head.

But then the agents and the middle‑men came in, and things started to get messy. The first guy I met, an unserious agent with a shiny head, told me the 400k was just the base and that the first payment had to be 800k because of agency fees and processing charges. I tried to argue, saying the advert clearly said 400k, but he just smiled and said, “That’s the standard amount for the first year, and that I knew how it goes.

I walked away, but the next day I reached out to another agent who offered a similar self‑contain, same price, same story. This time the extra was 300k.
If it was the 20% they called security deposit, that wouldn′t seem abnormal.but what then was the rest of the extra charge for?

I started to see a pattern: every time I got close to a decent place, the price jumped, and the agents were the ones pocketing the difference. It’s like they have a secret menu where the real cost is hidden to attract people at first and by the time these people are stressed with thesame plot over and over again, they would have no other option than to give in.

I tried to go directly to the owners, thinking maybe they’d cut the middleman. I found a few listings where the owners were posting themselves, but when I reached out, they either didn’t respond or referred me back to an agent who claimed to handle everything. It felt like a game because no matter which door I knocked on, I ended up been asked to pay way much more for the space that I seeked.

What really got me was thinking about the house owners. They’re the ones who put up the property, pay the taxes, maintain the building, and yet they end up losing out because of these greedy agents. If this keeps going, honest owners will stop renting out, and the city will be left with even fewer affordable options. I’m not saying that House agents should be banned but if someone doesn’t call out this funny % increase added to the fixed amount an extra scam, the whole rental market in Enugu will just keep getting worse.