Hi, I’m Benita and it’s nice to meet you. This is to officially welcome you to my corner where I plan to rant (mostly about money), goof around, and sometimes get serious with what’s happening in my life and the world.
My friends describe me as intelligent, playful, and highly optimistic. So, I hope that as you read, you’ll get a glimpse into my life, teach me a thing or two, and hopefully learn from my experiences, as we navigate the tides of adulthood – you and me.
Now, to the first subject of my rant…
The “good life bug”
A few years ago, I finished youth service and was super excited to land my first job. Armed with a 2.1 degree, a couple of professional courses under my belt, and the enthusiasm of a winner, I came to Lagos to begin an exciting career. I had this dream that once I landed this city flowing with milk and honey, companies will be rushing me.
Well, I got the shock of my life when I had spent over six months in my sister’s house, sent out over a hundred job applications, and not one company was excited to employ me. I had thought they’d rush me like hot puff puff but alas… I cried, fasted, and prayed. I even went personally to offices to beg for an opportunity to show my CV… I did so much, yet nothing.
Then Nosa shows up…
A couple of years down the line after I finally got a job, I met Nosa, and he introduced me to the ‘good life’. Nosa was a fashionisto and skilled with styling. Unfortunately, he was also a party animal, and soon, with my constant hangouts with him, I got bit by the good life bug. Only, this good life bug was costing me more than I cared to admit.
As a Customer Service officer, I was earning N200k but my people, do you know that by the time the 25th of every month came around and salaries were paid, I’d already be in debt?
Hmmm… How manage, you ask? Well, Nosa had introduced me to some boutique owners who didn’t mind giving me items to pay later. So, while I looked like a million bucks when going to work and parties, my account was constantly in red. Or should we talk of the unending parties and hangouts this my guy always roped me into? Where I had to open my purse so as not to be seen as a broke babe…SMH.
I was living from salary to salary with no savings or investment to my name. Even common emergency fund, your babe didn’t have.
This lifestyle felt normal to me until one day when I met Rachel, my paddy way back in the University.
You guys won’t believe what I saw that day. I felt like an utter fool to put it lightly.
Shoot! My ride home is about to leave, and unless you people want your girl to trek from VI to Festac, I gotta go (My car broke down mbok). This gist will continue next time. In the meantime, beware of the “Nosa’s” out there. Lerra!
To be continued!
