The One Thing I Hate The Most.

Because of scammers, many people have cried, some have gone into chronic depression, some even went as far as taking their own life while the scammers spend the money in clubs, and expensive lifestyles that they can never afford. Thinking about it currently makes me feel like I want to punch a scammer in the damn face right now, but then, my perspective of being civil means less aggression and more of being responsible and logical.

Why I'm I writing this? Welp, I am seated outside my house this night and a thought of how I loved life many years ago crossed my mind. When I decided to start being independent, I saw a lot of things. I went through some bad paths, and I'm glad that I didn't lose myself during all these bad experience. One of the paths I regret following was going to stay with a friend. That experience is the sole reason why I don't like keeping friends, my guard is constantly up around people, and I prefer to be the influencer, not the influenced.

So, here's my story of how I came to hate scammers like I do.

I don't remember the year, but it's been a very long time and I remember the incident like it was yesterday. Seeing how well my parents and other elderly people are doing in life, I wanted to become responsible and independent. At a very young age, I began to hate being a dependant, not even to my parents.

The time came, and like a prodigal son, I told my mom that I wanted to do something for my self. I wanted to hustle. I wanted independence. By this time, I've not yet thought of even becoming a nurse. I was actually legally of age to be on my own by then but my mom stopped me many times. I persisted, day after day. Seeing how eager I am to make my own money, she allowed me go. She let me fly. Before my departure date to stay with a family friend in another city, she gave me daily dose of advice that lasted hours.

So, that family friend has a son named Ikechukwu (my namesake), and he's popularly known as Campala. That's his nick name. Campala introduced me to a lot of things back then. He showed me a little of the good, and showed me a while lot of the bad aspects of life. He showed me the smoking, the drinking, the womanising, the scamming and a whole lot more. Everyday, we were broke, but Campala had money to buy methamphetamine. We smoked, drank, and gambled the little money we had away.

His family was constantly fighting with his because of his lifestyle, but then, what can they do? Campala was already lost at this point. You know who else was about to be lost? Me. I was influenced. I smoked too.. I drank too. Smoking weed was like taking food. I also began to learn how to scam people. Clubs became our nest. Hotels became the norns for us. Troubles was a usual thing.

We joined a cult group (gang) and we had constant problems with the opposite gang members. I thought I was street wise while in actual sense, I was just wasting my precious life. We were always on WeChat, shaking to get Thailand ladies or anyone from Asia that will fall for our sweet talks. Oh it sucks... Instagram was the order of the day. We were not connecting with friends, however, we were connecting with potential victims. Thankfully, I never truly scammed anyone as all the people I was chatting with saw through my novice typing. If I had scammed anyone, I would live with the guilt throughout my lifetime.

The most crazy part of this was that, when Campala gets money from any of his shady dealings, we spent it on stupid things like more smoking, drinking, clubbing, womanising, booking hotel rooms for the fun of it, e.t.c..

Days turned to weeks, and gradually, the effects of meth began to hit. Police patrol car made me scared. It got to a point when if I'm walking at night and I see a car's head light, I would begin to shake. I would subconsciously look for a hiding spot. Not that I'm with any illegal thing. Just that I'm being flogged by my conscience.

Two weeks into this lifestyle, I began to feel somehow. I was not myself no more. I changed completely. Insomnia became the order of the day. Aggression ruled. I get triggered by the slightest things. My mental state gradually became unstable.

One faithful day, I sat out and began to think of my life. I thought at length about how stupid I became. My conscience disciplined me and that was when I developed a split personality. My super ego took over my id. My conscience continued the discipline. I cried for who I was becoming. My mom's advice began to pour into my head. Would my mom be happy if she saw the life I was leading? This question shattered my heart even more because I know that I disappointed her. This was the reason she held me back.

I cried, I stared at the void for a very long time as my heart rapidly fell into a very deep abyss that has no end. Thinking about it now, I can't help it but curse myself for the stupid mistakes I made. That day, my sanity as well as my Christianity came back.