I carried olosho for two years and the money was too sweet to stop

I was 22, fresh out of polytechnic with a certificate that could not even buy me a slot in a typing school. My mother was sick and my younger ones needed school fees. I tried selling recharge cards but the profit was nothing. Then my friend from secondary school called me and said she had a job for me, just driving at night.

The first night I dropped a woman at a hotel in GRA. She was a banker. Married. Two kids. She gave me ₦5,000 just for waiting. That was more than I made in a week selling cards. Before long I was doing it every night. I knew the best hotels in Aba, the ones where nobody asks questions. I saw pastors come out with women who were not their wives. I saw politicians. I saw a judge once. The money was insane , some nights ₦20,000, some nights ₦50,000.

I told myself I was just driving. But I was the one who knew the safe spots. I was the one who called the girls when a big client was in town. I was the one who collected the money and took my cut. The day my mother died I was at the hospital with ₦150,000 cash in my pocket from the night before. She never knew where it came from. I thank God she never found out. That life will kill your soul slowly. I left it two years ago but some nights the phone still rings and the offer is still there. The money is still sweet. But I know the price now.