After the robbery, I walk from Anthony to Timi’s place in Ilupeju. Together, Timi and I walk from bank to bank, trying to see if we can find ATMs that will allow me to move my funds from my account to his for safekeeping.
That was the first thing on my mind— money. I knew the phone had gone but when you have someone’s phone in 2023, there are a lot of things you can do. I already did a lot of thinking on my walk back to Timi’s house and I knew what I needed to do. I had funds in just a few places. Funds in Cowrywise? Secure. No need to worry about that. And I do not say this because I used to work at the company. Earlier this year, they implemented a new security feature — the 24-hour withdrawal delay most people hated. While I was thinking about all the numerous ways the robbers could steal my funds, I did not have to worry about Cowrywise because I knew that even if they ever got into the app, they wouldn’t be able to access any withdrawn funds until 24 hours later, by which time I would have blocked my account and reverted any transactions made. So I did not worry about the blue app.
My banks on the other hand... I use two traditional banks and a neobank. The first thing Timi and I do is to move money from that neobank because I know how hard it is to recover stolen funds from a neobank. After moving some amount, ATMs stop working. At this point, I am already panicking. Is it really the ATM or have these people found their way into my bank app?
Then I see a Chicken Republic nearby and we enter. Timi sits with his phone, trying to find all the ways to restrict my bank account online while I order a bucket of chicken and try paying with my card. It goes through and I am relieved but now, I have a bucket of chicken I don't even need. When Timi asks why I bought the chicken, I say; I don't know what else to buy.
When you're grieving or just anxious, you make a lot of decisions that don't make sense. When you’re heartbroken, you entertain the same ex you’re supposed to block. You know you’re supposed to block them because you’ve read a lot of Twitter threads on choosing yourself and you’ve even written a few Medium articles yourself on the art of self love. But in the face of pain and loss, it’s still this man you text, this man that wants nothing good for you. He’s your wrong decision in your moment of weakness.
When my mind is unstable, I try not to make important decisions because in those moments, I really can't trust myself to make the best decisions. I know there's a very high chance that I will make wrong choices so my mantra is: When in doubt, wait. When in panic, wait. Most times, you really don't have to make any immediate decision. You can simply wait.
Soon, Timi orders a ride for me and waves goodbye. In the past few days, I must have messaged Timi more times than I have in the entire month. He is the only one who can relate the most to what I am going through, and that has been very helpful in the past few days. Very helpful. I'm forever grateful to him and all my friends who have shown up for me in the past days.
On the ride home, I eat the chicken I bought. It tastes like nothing. When we get to Oregun, the rider parks and tells me my ride is N5000. It's then I realise I forgot to ask Timi to make it a card trip. I'm sure he must have forgotten too. Now, I'm in the car at Oregun unable to pay the rider. I try explaining to the rider that I don't have a phone and don't have any cash on me, that I was just robbed. He isn't having it. He mutters something about how somebody should not be unfortunate two days before Christmas. I step out of the car to find an ATM nearby where I can withdraw using my ATM card.
As I walk towards the ATM, the security guard tells me it’s not working. In the car, the Uber man is not having it. As I walk back to him, I hear somebody calling my name. Please note that at this point, it is probably 9pm thereabouts, I’m not sure. I turn around and there’s a girl waving at me. I approach and say hi back. She says I may not know her but she is a Cowrywise ambassador and her name is T and then she mentions her school. In a flash, her surname comes to my mind and I say, “Are you T - surname?” and she says yes. Before the entire “It’s nice to meet you”, I ask if she has N5000 on her and she says, she can transfer for me. So together, we return to the rider and my God-sent angel in the dark sends the Uber rider his fee. Then I hug her properly and ask what she’s doing here. She says she lives close by and then I tell her I have just been robbed.
I don’t remember everything that happened that night clearly but I remember T holding my hand and taking me to the POS stand. She helps me withdraw all my funds from the neobank to her own bank account. Together, we empty the bank the robbers may be able to access and then she asks if I will need cash in the meantime. I am not thinking straight but she decides for me so I do some withdrawal too. After this, she gives me one of her spare ATM cards and asks that I hold on to it until I am able to unblock my accounts and get my own ATM card.
I am going to tell you something: I sometimes still remember how T showed up out of nowhere that night and I sob. Sometimes you don’t know how things are going to work out but out of nowhere, someone just shows up and says, “Okay okay. Hold my hand. Let me walk you across this bridge.” I still don’t know how to thank T. If not for her that night, I don’t know what I would have done. Maybe I would have begged the Uber rider to give me his account number so I can repay him later. Maybe I wouldn’t have thought to try the POS because I was not thinking straight.
My friend, Faith and I often argue about the advantages and disadvantages of being known. Faith, who is by far more popular than I am, thinks there are a lot more advantages. I am not so sure and I often tell him how I never know what to say when I am at events and someone walks up to me and says, “Hi Oriade, I know you from Twitter.” I always try to smile and be happy but sometimes, I fear that my face betrays me and my confusion and cluelessness is made obvious. The other day I saw a video on Twitter addressing Lagos girls [which, thanks be to God, I am not among] and telling them to do better in 2024. The summary of the video is this: If you are [slightly] famous and someone walks up to you at an event, don’t be snobbish or act as if you don’t know them. Be polite. I totally support being polite but I am sometimes overwhelmed with confusion when I am in public and someone walks up to me.
Two days ago at a cafe at ICM, someone walks up to me and says, “Hi Michael.” They tell me their first name and just the way I did with T, I remember their surname immediately and tell them. They confirm with a nod and we shake hands. We talk for like three seconds and they ask if they can introduce me to a friend who I think also knows me. I had to decline because I was just returning from the NIN office and was going through a messy day.
I digress to let you know that on the night of the robbery when T walked up to me and said, “Hi Oriade, I know you” I felt so grateful to be known. I had never been so happy to hear a “Hi, I know you” in public.
I am not sure I am doing justice to this, not sure I am expressing my gratitude as I should but if you ask why I am still making Issue 22 about the robbery, I will tell you it is because I am grateful for people. I am grateful for community. I am grateful for love. I am grateful to every single person who follows me on Twitter, on Instagram and here on Substack. I am grateful to be reminded that night that you all are not just avatars and cute handles; you are all real people. You are all real people. And when God promised to lift up a standard on the day that the enemy comes in like a flood, sometimes that standard can be you. For that, I am grateful to all of you. Thank you. And especially to T, thank you.
The next day, few of my friends visit. Simi comes with wine. We spend the evening together, laughing and talking. God, what did we not talk about? Money, love, family, relationships, the stolen phone; everything. We talk about everything and then I bring out my bucket of chicken and we heat it up and eat. The chicken tastes well now that the air of loss has begun to dissipate. Simi is here with me and all of a sudden, all is well with the world again.
On Christmas day, I am alone and it is heavy. My parents ask me to come home but I tell them no. There are many reasons why going home was not the right decision for me. First, Ogbomoso is far. Second, Ogbomoso is dusty and the journey will be brutal. I don’t want to have to tackle asthma, not now that an inhaler costs more than minimum wage. Third, I did not plan to go to Ogbomoso so why change that now? Remember, when unstable, wait. Don’t make rash decisions.
So I stay at home but this means on Christmas Day, I am alone without a phone. Treasure asks if I want to come over to hers for Christmas rice and I say yes but when it’s time to go, I realise that I am too afraid to step out of my house and I write a message saying I am sorry, that I really want to eat rice and I am grateful for the offer to spend Christmas with her and her folks but right now, I don’t have the strength to face people. So she says it’s fine and she brings the food. So it’s Christmas evening and Treasure and I are in this room, eating fried rice and chicken and fighting over fruit juice. And all of a sudden, all is well with the world again.
In the past week, I have gone through hell and back. I remember sometime in 2021 during my numerous arguments with Faith on why he doesn’t need to know so many people. I asked him, “If ten thousand people are following you in real life, won’t you turn back? Won’t you run away?” It seemed like a logical statement to me then. I did not like that I would go out with Faith and he would spend half of the journey greeting the whole world. Time and attention that he should be giving me he was going to other people. I disliked that and thought the solution was to not be known.
But between then and now, I have experienced what it means to have a community, to have people around you. To tell your folks you have been nominated for an award and you need their help and for them to say, “Hold my beer.” I have experienced what it means to enter a club on Friday night and find my book club member there screaming, Ariana what are you doing here? I have experienced what it feels like to be robbed and to find comfort in someone who is seeing you for the very first time but feels like an old friend, just because there’s a community online.
So to answer my own question, if ten thousand people are following me, will I turn back? No, I would not. I would be grateful for every single one of them.
How about you, my love? If 10,000 people are following you, will you turn back?
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I put up a thread on Twitter of End of the Year reviews to read. Check it out here.
Thanks to Stepahnie Orkuma, Moremi Onipede, Oyinlola Akindele and Emmanuel Faith for reading drafts of this.
it feels good to know that you have a form of support around you. It makes one feel safe, in a way. I'm grateful to my friends and family. if 10, 000 people are following me, as far as their intentions are good, no I won't turn back.
To think I have been following on twitter for a while not knowing you had a newsletter. It wasn't until your post about being robbed and tagging the newsletters that I became aware and I tell you, it feels so surreal.
The gift of community and friends cannot be overemphasised. I'm not someone that has a very large circle, but the little ones I have, I'm always grateful for their blessing.
If 10,000 people are following me, I would definitely thank God and wonder why they are🥺. I would always be grateful if that ever happens!