11/09/2025
đź§ How My Village People Almost Collected My First Salary (Part 1)
After one full year of job hunting, prayer points, fasting, and one late-night Zoom vigil where my pastor told me to “sow a dangerous seed” (with money I didn’t even have), I finally got a job.
It wasn’t anything serious — ₦65,000 per month — but at least I could stop calculating my life with sachet indomie and “urgent 2k.”
Two weeks later, they sent us half salary “to test the system.” No wahala.
That afternoon, I saw the alert:
₦32,500 CREDITED.
I nearly screamed, “God no go shame us!” in the middle of my compound.
I dressed up, powdered my face a little, and walked to the ATM like someone whose enemies just got evicted from her destiny.
After withdrawing ₦5,000, I stepped aside to count the money. I already planned my celebration: one cold malt and that big meat pie from the supermarket — the one that smells like wealth.
Then one old man walked up to me gently.
> “My daughter, please… I need ₦500 to go home. My son sent money, but it's not reflecting.”
Normally, I don’t like giving money near ATM. But this man looked so tired… and for some reason, the way he spoke reminded me of my late grandfather. I just couldn’t ignore him.
So I gave him ₦1,000 — no change, no stress.
He smiled and said:
“God bless you. Your pocket will never dry.”
I smiled back. “Amen, sir.”
He sat under a mango tree near the ATM and started sipping pure water like someone that just won a case in court.
I walked home, feeling like the kindest woman alive. I even posted on WhatsApp:
> “No matter how small you have, try help person today. It won’t kill you.”
But when I got home and opened my banking app to check something…
I paused.
I blinked.
I refreshed the page.
Something wasn’t adding up.
To be continued…
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