The Lekki Land Scam That Taught Me My Father Is Not A Saint

Three years ago, I was 28 and stupid with savings. My father called me one Sunday evening. He said his friend from Ikoyi has land in Lekki, going for ₦8.5 million. Prime location. Documents clean.

I ran the numbers. By my calculation, if I put my entire savings in, I could flip it in 18 months and double my money. The data looked good. So I transferred everything.

Six months later, my father called me again. He was crying. The man had vanished. The documents were forged. And my father knew. He knew the man was shady but he vouched for him anyway because the man had helped him before.

₦8.5 million. Gone. That was my japa fund. My emergency fund. My everything.

I didn't speak to my father for four months. My mother kept calling, begging. I was angry at the man, but I was angrier at my father. He sold me out for a friendship.

Rebuilding from zero taught me something the numbers never could. Trust is not a spreadsheet. You can't calculate it. And sometimes the people closest to you are the ones who cost you the most.

We talk now, my father and I. But I don't invest in anything he brings. Not because I don't forgive him. Because I learned that family and business should never share the same plate.