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A Cautionary Tale Of Online Deception
Twice I've sent money to this girl to visit me and she didn't show up.
The first time was 2 years back.
I met her here on Social media. She was quite lovely and friendly.
I approached her and made clear to her that the reason why I texted her was because I liked her. After several months of flirting and late-night chatting, I requested that she visit me and she agreed.
The problem was that she lived in Lagos, and I Aba.
I agreed to fund her transport bills from Lagos to Aba and back. It summed up to 40K then. She was to stay with me for three days.
The day she was supposed to come to my house, her number was suddenly not going. It was switched off. I texted her on Facebook, on WhatsApp, left voice notes and all for her and all were left unreplied to.
Three days later, she called me and told me that she fainted that morning and her neighbours had to rush her to a nearby clinic where treatments were administered to her. She showed me a picture of her on a drip.
I told her it was okay, that she should not bother coming anymore and should instead use that money to buy drugs. She thanked me profusely and called me a good man.
I texted and called her throughout that week to know the state of her health, and even sent more money to her to buy fruits and juice.
Five months later, I asked her to visit me again and she agreed. I sent her 50K for transport.
That day, I waited and waited and waited but she didn't show up. Her line was inactive. Her Facebook account was suddenly deactivated.
I was mād. I was flabbergastēd. I wanted to cry.
Two days later, she called me and told me that she was sorry, that her mom dièd that morning so she couldn't come. She told me that she was still grieving, so I should understand.
I told her that I thought she was an orphan. I even showed her a screenshot of our text where she mentioned she was an orphan.
She told me Oh, Ah, that she wasn't talking about her real mother. That she was talking about her Aunty. That her Aunty was the one that diēd and she was like a mother to her because she trained her and her siblings.
She told me that she couldn't visit me because she used the money I sent to her to sort out her mom's (Aunty's) mortuāry things.
She said sorry and I accepted with an okay.
Two months later—early this year—I asked her to visit me but told her that I had relocated to Abuja ooo. I showed her pictures of my new house, a very modern apartment with AC, a flat TV, huge couches, and a sleek interior. I even showed her the new car the company I run social media pages for gifted me, and she congratulated me.
I asked her if she could come from Lagos to Abuja, and that if she couldn't, I'd understand. She said she can. But she told me she didn't have money for the bus fare, that ten kobo no dey her account.
I sent her 20K for her bus fare. I told her I would give her money for the bus home on the day she would leave my place.
That day, I kept calling her. She told me when she booked a bus, when she entered it, when they left the park, and when she reached Abuja, by 2 in the afternoon.
Immediately she reached the park in Abuja, I called her and told her to take a bike to Gwarinpa and that once she reached there, she should give the bikeman the phone so I would give him directions to my house.
After I ended the call with her, I switched off my phone.
By the time I switched on my phone by 5 in the evening, streams of texts pinged into my Facebook. 46 messages I had received from her. I called her and as soon as she picked up, she started shouting at me. She said she was stranded on the road and had been calling me, that I knew she didn't have any money on her, not even her in her bank account, that she didn't like this, that I should quickly pick her up from the junction.
I told me that I was sorry, and then I told her to flag down a bikeman so I would give him directions to my house.
Immediately she hailed a bike and gave the man the phone, I asked the man to tell her to go home, that I didn't even know where Gwarinpa was in Abuja because I still live in Aba full full. I told him to tell her that however she manages to find her way home—that is if she finds her way home—I don't care.
Then I switched off my phone again.
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The first time was 2 years back.
I met her here on Social media. She was quite lovely and friendly.
I approached her and made clear to her that the reason why I texted her was because I liked her. After several months of flirting and late-night chatting, I requested that she visit me and she agreed.
The problem was that she lived in Lagos, and I Aba.
I agreed to fund her transport bills from Lagos to Aba and back. It summed up to 40K then. She was to stay with me for three days.
The day she was supposed to come to my house, her number was suddenly not going. It was switched off. I texted her on Facebook, on WhatsApp, left voice notes and all for her and all were left unreplied to.
Three days later, she called me and told me that she fainted that morning and her neighbours had to rush her to a nearby clinic where treatments were administered to her. She showed me a picture of her on a drip.
I told her it was okay, that she should not bother coming anymore and should instead use that money to buy drugs. She thanked me profusely and called me a good man.
I texted and called her throughout that week to know the state of her health, and even sent more money to her to buy fruits and juice.
Five months later, I asked her to visit me again and she agreed. I sent her 50K for transport.
That day, I waited and waited and waited but she didn't show up. Her line was inactive. Her Facebook account was suddenly deactivated.
I was mād. I was flabbergastēd. I wanted to cry.
Two days later, she called me and told me that she was sorry, that her mom dièd that morning so she couldn't come. She told me that she was still grieving, so I should understand.
I told her that I thought she was an orphan. I even showed her a screenshot of our text where she mentioned she was an orphan.
She told me Oh, Ah, that she wasn't talking about her real mother. That she was talking about her Aunty. That her Aunty was the one that diēd and she was like a mother to her because she trained her and her siblings.
She told me that she couldn't visit me because she used the money I sent to her to sort out her mom's (Aunty's) mortuāry things.
She said sorry and I accepted with an okay.
Two months later—early this year—I asked her to visit me but told her that I had relocated to Abuja ooo. I showed her pictures of my new house, a very modern apartment with AC, a flat TV, huge couches, and a sleek interior. I even showed her the new car the company I run social media pages for gifted me, and she congratulated me.
I asked her if she could come from Lagos to Abuja, and that if she couldn't, I'd understand. She said she can. But she told me she didn't have money for the bus fare, that ten kobo no dey her account.
I sent her 20K for her bus fare. I told her I would give her money for the bus home on the day she would leave my place.
That day, I kept calling her. She told me when she booked a bus, when she entered it, when they left the park, and when she reached Abuja, by 2 in the afternoon.
Immediately she reached the park in Abuja, I called her and told her to take a bike to Gwarinpa and that once she reached there, she should give the bikeman the phone so I would give him directions to my house.
After I ended the call with her, I switched off my phone.
By the time I switched on my phone by 5 in the evening, streams of texts pinged into my Facebook. 46 messages I had received from her. I called her and as soon as she picked up, she started shouting at me. She said she was stranded on the road and had been calling me, that I knew she didn't have any money on her, not even her in her bank account, that she didn't like this, that I should quickly pick her up from the junction.
I told me that I was sorry, and then I told her to flag down a bikeman so I would give him directions to my house.
Immediately she hailed a bike and gave the man the phone, I asked the man to tell her to go home, that I didn't even know where Gwarinpa was in Abuja because I still live in Aba full full. I told him to tell her that however she manages to find her way home—that is if she finds her way home—I don't care.
Then I switched off my phone again.
© All Rights Reserved
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