I CALL HIM BROTHER BUT HE WAS THE PRINCE OF LIES___3RD OCTOBER

They call him prince of lies, but I called him brother.

In my street, everybody knows him. Fine face, clean shoes, English that can sweet-talk even your mother. When he talks, you will think the world is in his pocket.

He told us he got admission to study abroad. We contributed money. We did party for him. My own mother cooked jollof. Three months later, we saw him in the next street selling phone chargers.

He said his father had an accident. He said his school fees got lost. He said his uncle in Canada blocked him. One lie to cover another lie. He was building a house with lies and we were living inside it with him.

The most painful thing about a prince of lies is that he doesn't lie because he needs to — he lies because he enjoys it. He enjoys watching you believe him.

He borrowed my friend's school fees — 80k — saying his mother was in hospital. That same night, we saw his status, he was in a club popping drink.

When we confronted him, he cried more than the person he offended. He will lie and then play victim so well you will start begging him.

I have learned one thing — a prince of lies will never change, he will only change his story.

Today I don't hate him. I just keep my distance. Because if you stay too close to someone who loves lies, one day you will start doubting the truth.

This is my 5 minutes freewrite for today.

Thanks for reading.

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