From Japa plans to frying pan!

For many of us, the Nigerian dream is to japa. It is a common belief that once one leaves the country we will find ourselves in  greener pastures. So did Martins until he got smacked down by life.

Here are his japa tales by the moonlight.

 

 

Hello. Can we meet you?

I’m Martins, a mechanical engineer and entrepreneur. I’m the first child of three. My parents were rich and popular but they died in their prime which left us as children in the fangs of a greedy uncle. He sold most of their properties and left us with the bare minimum.

Aww, that must have been tough. How did you cope?

Not that well, at first. Like I said, almost everything was taken from us. But my parents’ goodwill went a long way. 

The dean in my university turned out to be a family friend. He footed a lot of the bills for my siblings and I. Every month, it was law for me to go to his house, drop a list of our needs. He was just a godsend. With his financial aid and hype, I started a dry cleaning business in my final year that raked in a lot of money. 

OPP! How were you able to juggle final year wahala and a business?

Not easy, I must say. But I managed. 

At first, I hired a woman to wash and I dragged my siblings to do the ironing. I didn’t really have a lot of issues scouting for clients. My dean was the best publicist ever. Within four months, we expanded our workspace, and employed more people. Everywhere stew.

 

 

If the stew was everywhere, why did you want to japa from Nigeria?

My bad employees, for one. They stole my money and often misplaced dry cleaned clothes. I was doing so many refunds that I felt like dying. I just got tired of it and felt a change of scenery would be better. Then, there was the stifling competition. 

Tell us about the whole japa process. 

The whole japa idea started at a farewell party. Someone was traveling overseas and I just casually said I wanted that for me too, to a close friend of mine. He told me he felt it was an awesome idea.

A few weeks later, my friend came by the laundry shop to ask if I was really interested in that travel thing because he mistakenly repeated it to his wife. And she knew someone who was good at those things. 

 

 

And like that, I was connected to Mr scammer, the travel agent. I travelled down to Surulere in Lagos to see him at his office. He was very cool, or at least, so I thought.  He had this air of professionalism around him, acting very competent. Omo!

Since you knew him through a friend, didn’t you try taking legal steps?

None of us sensed anything like scam o. It was when I got to the airport that I knew what fell on me. 

No, no, let’s backtrack. So, you actually travelled?

Yes, I did.

Ahn ahn, please make us understand 

Well, the problem was he processed a diplomat’s visa for me. And the rule was that you could only spend a few days overseas with such a visa. 

 

 

Oh my God, how did he get that past you?

He was super smart. Everything looked airtight. From account creation to my passport and processing fees. Then, I was busy liquidating my assets to supplement funds my sisters gave me. Like over 15 thousand dollars.

I went batshit crazy. I could not open up to anyone about it. I don’t know what I was thinking though. I just forged on thinking some miracle would happen, a man is entitled to hope na. Anyways, when my time was up, the “diplomat” had to come home.

Omo! You came back. To what?

Almost nothing. Thank God for my siblings. The one into fashion designing had convinced me to sell my laundry equipment to her.  Seeing me, “who they hoped would come back in a couple of years bearing hard currencies” now slinging one bag on my arm was a big shock to her.

They didn’t even know I’d been back in Nigeria for a couple of weeks. I squatted with a friend before I decided to man up. Not the ones who connected me to the scammer though. Those ones ghosted me. Maybe it was their conscience that was choking them.  

I bunked on my sister’s couch till they both blessed me with a two bedroom apartment. I’m back to my laundry work now, at least I’m grateful I didn’t incur too much debt while processing the “supposed travel documents”

My two cents to anyone reading this? Invest in people, reward can be from anywhere. Anywhere!

 

 

#PeopleTalk is a submissions segment for everyday people to talk straight about the twists and turns of everyday life. This edition covers the story of an ambitious man whose rough start in life led ultimately to japa plans that went sour.

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Gbemisola Oyeniyi

Her name is Gbemisola but feel free to call her 'carry me'. A short baddie with a strong affinity for chaos. When not choosing violence, she is either busy creating content for money or relaxing with PG-13 novels and music. Send fan letters to gbemisola@sabitribe.com. Mwah.

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