The call that ended my university dream

Two years ago, I was in my second year at UNIPORT. My uncle Emeka was the one paying my fees. Every semester, he would call me and say, 'Chidi, make sure you pass. I no go let you suffer like me.'

Then one Tuesday, my mother called me from Port Harcourt. Her voice was shaking. 'Chidi, your uncle Emeka don disappear. Him shop empty. Him phone off. Nobody know where him dey.'

I laughed. I thought it was one of her jokes. But she was crying. She said he owed people money. Big money. The business failed. He ran.

That was it. No more fees. No more school. I had to drop out that semester. I started selling phone accessories in Yaba market, sleeping in my friend's shop. Some nights I cried. Not because of the money. Because of the shame.

But God no dey sleep. One year later, I got this sales job. Small salary, but steady. I'm saving small small. I go finish school. I swear.

The lesson? Never put your life inside another man's pocket. Even family. Especially family.