On a faithful Sunday, I sat on the couch with my phantom tablet, punching the screen as an hammer punches a nail so hard. I had just barely got money from my sister for a one month data subscription for browsing the internet.

Legion of messages via whatsapp, facebook and twitter flew into my phone’s screen simultaneously. I was so elated because its been over two months since I set my eye on anything social media. Writing my final semester exam in the university deprived me of sharing lovely moments with my friends from home and abroad on social media. The joy of finally getting back online knew no bound inside of me.
On opening my facebook to behold the glamorous and shining faces of my friends and family, I noticed about seven messages were still unread in the inbox; waiting for me to pick them up and read. I quickly liked some few pictures and proceeded to the inbox. Of all the messages popping up the screen of my phone, a certain one stood out; the feeling in me was affirming that something was special about the message. The sender had sent a friendship request pending approval on my timeline. I opened a tab to view the picture of the sender, while another tab was opened to read the message itself.
The sender appeared to be a well dreesed beautiful African lady. She seemed likely to be her early 20s. My heart raised as though Ronaldinho was playing with it with his ‘footballic’ feet. My eyes couldn’t stop wondering why a pretty gorgeous damsel I didn’t know would post a message in my facebook inbox.
I read her narration about how much she loves Nigerians and how she fell in love with my smooth handsome face.
Waves of smile flew through my fleshy cheeks, while adjusting my butt on the couch.
She wrote about how Senegalese guys are unfaithful by dumping her after extorting her of money because she’s rich. I felt pity for her as my eyes scrolled down each lengthy page like a devoted nerd. At this point my phone was getting warm, the battery was getting low; I didn’t even care.
But I began to suspect danger when she talked about how her rich dad was killed in Senegal; and now she needed someone to help her move from the refugee camp in Dakar to Nigeria.
“I wish to help you dear” I replied her.
“thanks baby, I need about $10,000 to clear some documents and move to your country with you. It will be me and you for ever” she answered.
I didn’t even know she was online.
My senses came back to Nigeria and I realized she was just- or the fraudster was just trying to manipulate me.
“madam or Mr, please don’t ever send this rubbish message to me again” I replied with strings of hissing.
I was still owing iya maria #60. I managed to decline her friendship request on my timeline before going to the kitchen to drink some garri ijebu with flat kulikuli and groundnut.


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