My landlord was calling me 47 times a day and I was hiding under my duvet in Lekki

Two years ago I moved into this fine apartment in Lekki. Ikoyi side of the bridge, the kind of place that makes your clients nod and your friends post you on their story. The rent was swallowing 70% of my income every month but I told myself it was investment. Image is currency in this Lagos.

Then the brand deal I was banking on collapsed. One email. No warning. That was the money I was going to use to pay the next rent, the money I had already spent in my head.

The landlord started calling. 47 missed calls in one day. I counted. I was hiding under my duvet like a criminal, phone on silent, heart beating like I just ran from Area Boys.

My friend told me to just move back to my mother's place in Ikorodu. I cried. Not because Ikorodu is bad, but because I had told everybody I was living my best life. The shame was heavier than the rent.

I packed two suitcases. My mother opened the door and said nothing. Just held me. I still pay her back small small till today. Some lessons you don't learn from books.