My name is Esther, and I have a friend who lives in Lagos. I, on the other hand, stay in Enugu. We both finished from the same secondary school, but life took us in different directions.
She now lives in Lagos, and from what I saw online, this girl is living the life — soft life! Big girl level! We often chat, and she told me she’s staying in Lekki. She even said she has her own apartment.
Meanwhile, me, I’m still in my father's house.
One day, she invited me to Lagos. My parents were against it, but I still went. The moment I arrived in Lagos and stepped into her estate, I was already screaming. Then I finally entered her apartment — my jaw dropped. It was like paradise.
I said to myself, “This is it. I have arrived.”
I didn’t know there was something behind all that luxury; I was just happy. This was my dream life!
She told me she was into human hair sales, and that was what I had in mind. She said I should come over and she would put me through the business.
But two weeks passed… and nothing. We didn’t talk about any hair. I didn’t see any store. Not even one single wig in sight. And let’s be honest — if someone is truly selling human hair, you will definitely know.
Instead, I noticed something strange. My friend would go out at night and return early in the morning. She dressed indecently and sometimes came back drunk.
I wanted to ask questions, but I didn’t. After all, I was seeing food to eat, the AC was blowing my body, and I was living okay.
But deep down I knew — this was not the reason I came to Lagos.
One evening when she was home, I finally asked her:
“Bestie, how far now? You said I was going to come to Lagos and sell hairs. That you would put me through and even assist me with funds to start, and I would pay you back later. But you’ve not said anything, and it’s been two weeks.”
She turned to me and said:
“Babe… let me tell you the truth.”
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