Pam* (29) thought she’d found love when she reconnected with an old schoolmate in 2020. But he was more interested in her wallet.
In this story, she narrates how he scammed her of ₦550k and why the loss no longer bothers her.
As told to Boluwatife
Image: Zikoko (AI)
I like to think I’m smart. When I was younger, older people often told me to pursue a law career because of my quick wit and inquisitiveness. As an adult, I haven’t changed much, which is why it’s strange to me that I didn’t question the events that led to losing ₦550k to an ex-boyfriend.
Let’s call this boyfriend Jacob. We connected on Instagram during the pandemic, but Jacob wasn’t a complete stranger. We went to the same secondary school, but our paths didn’t cross. Jacob and I were in separate classes and moved in different social circles. I was a social butterfly, and Jacob was the quiet nerd.
Our paths only crossed because our set’s Instagram account shared a picture of our old yearbook, and everyone started tagging each other. Jacob slid into my DM after he saw my comments on the page and introduced himself. I was bored, so I was more open to conversations than usual. That’s how we started talking.
Talking to Jacob became the highlight of my day within a few weeks. We texted on WhatsApp, made video calls, watched movies together, and shared memes. He fed me a story about being a military officer abroad and shared pictures to support his story. Now, I know it didn’t make sense that he was available to chat 24/7. I thought he was just intentional about giving me his time.
I felt like we had a connection, so I was flattered when he started saying he loved me. He’d often share romantic notes and ask me to be his girlfriend every day. The daily girlfriend questions became a running joke — every time he asked, I’d tease him for a while, then say yes.
Two months after we started “dating,” he began to tell me his problems. First, it was about his health. He complained about back pain, and as a caring girlfriend, I advised him to visit the hospital and rest. He said he wasn’t at his base, and it would take too long to get medical services at a regular hospital, so he’d just try to rest.
When he didn’t come online the following day, I was sick with worry. I remembered he’d mentioned his neighbour’s name, so I went to look for him under the list of people Jacob followed on Instagram. Then, I DM’ed him and begged him to check on Jacob. The neighbour allegedly found him on the floor and used his phone to call me. Jacob claimed he’d fallen and hadn’t been able to get up since the previous day.
Jacon and the neighbour allegedly went to the hospital. I’m saying “allegedly” a lot because I now know all that didn’t happen. Jacob had planned everything, from giving me his neighbour’s full name to staging the health issue for his main plan, which was to get money from me.
A week after the hospital situation, Jacob went on a long rant on his WhatsApp status about family members who only knew how to drain each other. Worried, I reached out to him to ask what was happening. He made a show of not wanting to involve me and only relented after I begged and begged. Imagine I was telling the guy, “Let’s handle this together. What am I here for?” God, I was such a fool.
Jacob told me stories of how his family wanted to kill him with black tax. He told me about his younger siblings who got into one trouble or the other and how he always had to bail them out. Then he said SARS had just arrested his brother, and his mum was begging him for money to settle the officers.
This is where it gets interesting. Jacob knew I’d just received a ₦350k deposit a few days earlier from a client who wanted me to cook for her wedding. Nigeria had lifted the COVID lockdown, and she was planning a lowkey wedding in her compound.
I’d lost my social media manager job during the lockdown. Cooking was mostly a hobby for me, and the wedding gig was the first time someone paid me to cook.
So, Jacob knew I had money. He also knew I had some savings because I’d told him it was my safety net while unemployed.
Back to the SARS matter.
Jacob complained bitterly that his mum was looking for ₦800k — his brother’s bail — and he had issues with his money transfer app. He also lamented about how his back pain hindered him from visiting the bank to make a Western Union transfer. He complained some more about how his family constantly drained him financially and emotionally. It was a whole sob story.
I bought the whole story hook, line and sinker. I called him on the phone to encourage him, and this guy broke into tears. See, anyone would’ve been convinced. He sounded so frustrated, and I didn’t know when I offered to send the ₦550k I had to his mum so they’d at least use that to beg the SARS officers to release his brother while they gathered the balance.
If you see how Jacob thanked me. At the same time, he was like, “I never do this. I’m so sorry for bringing you into this.” He sent me his “mother’s” number, and when I called, an elderly woman picked up the phone. She prayed for me so much that it almost became embarrassing.
In summary, I sent my client’s ₦350k to her plus the ₦200k left in my savings. The next day, Jacob told him his brother had been released. He asked me for my account number so he could refund the money as soon as possible. I even told him to take his time as I didn’t need the money until the following week.
The subsequent week came and Jacob started giving me more stories. There was one issue with his bank, and he couldn’t access the funds. I suspected something was wrong, and I started begging him to just help me look for the money. It went on for about two more weeks before he finally blocked me everywhere.
I called his “mother”, but her number was unreachable too. Even his neighbour blocked me everywhere. I was too ashamed to call him out online. How do I tell the whole world I was a literal fool?
I did quietly reach out to some of our old students to find out if anyone knew where he was, but no one did. They just knew he didn’t live in Nigeria. I told my best friends about it, and they suggested writing to the embassy to report him, but I didn’t think that’d work. I never sent money directly to him; it was his mother’s account. And I had no written evidence that he asked me to send her money. The conversation had happened via call.
So, I decided to let go and hope that karma catches up with him. I also sent him some curses from my village for added effect. Thankfully, my friends helped me with the money I needed to meet up with the client’s order, and I didn’t mess up that job. I’ve also made more than triple the amount I lost since then, so what’s the point of crying about it?
Jacob probably thinks he destroyed me, but I’m thriving. I hope he’s having a terrible life wherever he is.
*Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
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