You Will Scream — No Evidence!
Hmm! Guys, last month or so, I was in debt and badly in need of money — not for myself, but for my mum. So I dashed into Okash and clicked on ₦50,000 for 6 months. Guys, this was not funny at all. Today, I find myself wondering, did I actually do that?
Let me tell the full story in detail.
Last month was a really difficult month. Yes, I know we all go through times in life when we face financial difficulties.
My mum needed to settle several school fees and many other expenses. She said, "Pamilerin, can you get me a loan really quickly?" I replied, "Mum, you know I really hate borrowing online loans with high interest rates."
I then asked, "What did you do with the last money I gave you?" and began to narrate everything... That was another long story.
While I was going through options, I looked for loans that seemed affordable. I thought I saw a ₦56,500 for just one month. Guys, I can believe that I will be paying double at the end of six month. Really painful.
I took the loan and gave the money to her. Afterwards, we encountered another unexpected bill — a workbook that my younger brother needed. His lecturer, Odegbami, asked them to get a physics practical manual and some engineering calculation materials.
My jaw dropped when the bill came close to ₦90,000, and we were already in debt. My mum asked me to borrow again. These are not low-interest loans at all — they carry very high interest rates.
How does one survive without money? We were already close to one million naira in debt across different loan apps.
While all this was happening, my mum's phone fell into water — as if the loans were not enough. FairMoney, Okash, PalmPay — name them. We had borrowed from different microfinance apps, all because the cost of living is no longer favourable for salary earners.
Omo! Guys, this is not funny at all.
We eventually managed to settle all the bills. My mum's phone was placed in the sun for some time, then later in a dryer with silica gel.
Hurray! It turned on after a while, and we were all relieved.
Not even 30 seconds later, it displayed lines — like rainbow colours. I turned it off, dried it again, and waited for it to come back on.
It worked again! We were happy. My mum immediately said, "Pamilerin, remove all important files from that phone. I no longer trust it."
I felt nothing could go wrong with the phone. I trusted that this Redmi phone would survive water damage, unlike my old Itel phone.
After a while, I was sweating profusely. The phone displayed those rainbow colours again.
I turned it off and took it to an engineer. Surprisingly, it came back on, and they said it was fine.
Not wanting history to repeat itself, I immediately began transferring important files to my phone. But during the transfer, my phone went off completely — black screen.
Ha! The engineer opened it, examined it, looked up, and said, "An IC has burnt. I will refer you to Ijebu-Ode." He said.
I immediately took a vehicle from Epe, Lagos to Ijebu-Ode, Ogun State.
The phone engineer at ijebu,-ode assured me I would have my phone back in three days.
Guys, can you believe that three days turned into one week? One week became three weeks, and now it has been more than a month.
My mum had been using my phone in the meantime, which was not easy — especially with various expenses piling up and her needing the phone for work.
She then made the big decision to buy a new phone, taking out a one-year loan to do so.
We moved on from the old Redmi phone and got another Redmi.
You might be wondering — why Redmi and not Samsung or iPhone? Those phones are expensive, some even double the price. After payment, we were given a receipt and only a one-month warranty. I said, "This is ridiculous — one month, not even twelve."
In the midst of all that hardship, reality struck again. Just yesterday, after using all our salaries to settle those loans, we had to borrow again to clear another one.
Guys, it was not funny at all.
While reviewing one of the loans, I realised it was actually a six-month loan, not one month. I was furious — the interest was almost as much as the principal amount borrowed.
Painfully, I checked the history and receipts generated — and lo and behold, the apps do not lie. I had actually opted for it myself.
Right now, I am not entirely happy, but I am glad this week's prompt is about my experience.
This little experience may not explicitly talk about receipts or figures, but it indirectly reflects the circumstances many African parents go through just to survive when they have no real option left.
Sometimes it is not carelessness or poor planning—it is pressure. Pressure from school fees, sudden bills, family responsibilities, and the harsh reality of a system where survival often comes before structure.
In trying to solve one problem, another is created. And in many homes, parents quietly carry this burden, borrowing, adjusting, sacrificing, and still showing up every day like everything is fine.
Maybe this is not just my story. Maybe it is the story of many homes—silent struggles behind strong faces.
And sometimes, all we can do is learn, adjust, and hope for a better balance in the future.
I am open to all forms of advice.
Thanks for reading
Image Source: Chat GTP
