ToluOJ.com

In this life, there is one thing that is very important, and it is having shame.

I can deal with anger, I’ve been on a one-on-one basis with sadness, and I’ve even hung out once or twice with grief. But you see, embarrassment – I hate that feeling with my whole heart, and I try to avoid it at all costs. A sure-fire way to do that, one my mum taught me, is to have shame. Avoiding embarrassment is not difficult – in fact I have a very simple formula:

Keeping my business to myself + Not putting my mouth in other people’s business = Minimal embarrassment

I’m 32 years old, and I can count on one hand, the number of times I’ve truly felt embarrassed so its obviously working for me – at least it was. But, again, I have learned, that sometimes, it is the thing one fears most, that becomes ones undoing. Let me give you some context.

My mum owned one of the largest souvenir shops in Lagos; she was a very wealthy woman. I grew up in luxury and affluence – I went to the best schools, travelled regularly, wore the nicest clothes, and was quite spoiled – I rarely heard the word no. Since I was her only child, when she passed away, she left the business to me. Now I wish I could tell you that I continued her legacy, but that is unfortunately far from the case. I’m not sure if it was entitlement, or naiveite, but one thing led to another, and I was hundreds of millions of naira in debt. My employees abandoned me, and the business went down the toilet.

I had always called myself a ‘material girl’ – proudly and unashamedly. In fact, it was in my Instagram bio. I loved the finer things of life, and I wasn’t ashamed to let the world know; especially, men. But its easy to call yourself a ‘material girl’ when you have materials. Losing my money was a tough pill to swallow. I was so used to living my life a certain way – buying whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and not having to worry about the numbers in my bank account, that I struggled to adjust to my new reality. Long story short, I faked it. None of my friends knew that I had lost my business; I still had one house – the bank seized the others, and I still had my car, and my clothes, so I was able to keep up somewhat.

But I would go out and trick my friends into paying for me – my bank app was either not working, or I had forgotten my card at home – those where my go to lies. I got guys to take me out to nice dinners, so I could take pictures and maintain my Instagram ‘material girl’ status. If I was wise, I should have just stayed home, and tried to figure out my life, but we’ve already established that I’m not the smartest person.

It worked for a while. Until the day it didn’t. Until the day I met a material boy. You’ve heard the saying “cunny man die, cunny man bury am”, right? As I made plans to chop this guys money, he also had grand plans to chop my own. He took me out on two dates to expensive restaurants, before he started asking for an investment in his crypto portfolio, promising to double my money. I said I would give him the money; remember that I had a reputation to uphold. In fact I told him I had sent it, but the money got stuck – banking issues. I was able to keep up the charade for about two weeks until he figured it out.

Next thing you know, I found myself on Gistlover with all my secrets out in the open. “Tiwatope Amiri – The Nigerian Anna Delvey”.

Material girl in the mud.