Yemi called again around 9 p.m., and by then, I was visibly worried. Daniel’s number hadn’t gone through all day, and I didn’t know how to tell Yemi that. At this point, I was torn between worry and disappointment. Worry—because I was genuinely concerned about what might have gone wrong. Disappointment—because if something had happened to Daniel, I’d have lost a very qualified prospect. Then a question popped into my mind: “What about Daniel do I even know that makes me think he’s a prospect?”
I did a quick mental check of my expected qualities, which he had ticked about 80% off, and wondered if that was all it took for me to conclude he was “the one.” I felt a pang of shame.
When Yemi’s call came in, I was a bit apprehensive. How would he react if he found out I had paid 900,000 Naira for someone I’d known for less than a week? Don’t get me wrong—I’m not usually like this. I just don’t know what’s been happening to me lately. I really need to settle down, and considering the way I’ve mocked my friends for bringing guys who weren’t good-looking, polished, or well-off, I feel like I have no choice but to produce someone at their level—or better. So whenever I meet someone who looks like a good match, I try hard to hold on to them. If for nothing else, to show my friends.
I picked up the call.
“Hello, Dami. I tried calling you earlier, but you didn’t pick up,” Yemi said.
“Sorry, I fell asleep. I didn’t sleep well last night. I just woke up.”
“Oh, sorry about that. I hope you’re feeling more refreshed now.”
“Yes.”
There was a long pause. I knew he wanted me to continue from where our conversation had stopped earlier, but I wished we wouldn’t. I was too ashamed to tell the story, and I knew he’d want to know. After about thirty seconds, he spoke again.
“So, did you hear from Daniel or the doctor?”
“No, not yet. Daniel’s number still isn’t going through, and there’s no other way to reach him.”
“Don’t you know any of his friends or family you can contact? They might know something.”
“No.”
Silence.
“No, what?”
There was another pause.
“It seems I’m making you uncomfortable with this discussion,” Yemi said finally. “Let me leave it here for now. If you ever feel like talking about it, I’d be happy to listen. Meanwhile, let me know if there’s any way I can help you find your friend. Is it okay if I call once in a while to check on you?”
“No problem at all. I’d be happy to have you as a friend. You seem like a nice person, and I really appreciate all the care and concern you’ve shown me since we met.”
“It’s no bother at all. I admire your humility and the warmth you exude. I’m the one who’s lucky to have you as a friend. By the way, I hope you don’t mind if I chat with you on WhatsApp. I promise I won’t be a headache—I’ll only message when it’s absolutely necessary.”
I chuckled. I was enjoying the conversation, and WhatsApp would be another way to talk more often. There was no reason to say no.
“I’d appreciate that,” I replied.
“Thank you, and take care of yourself. Don’t worry too much—your friend will be alright and come back to you.”
I smiled at that. It reassured me that his intentions weren’t to “snatch me” from my friend; he just wanted to be supportive. That made me a little more comfortable with him.
“Okay. Thanks a lot. I’ll message you on WhatsApp.”
When we ended the call, I decided to tell him the full story on WhatsApp. I explained that I’d only met Daniel in church the previous Sunday, and we’d grown close over the week. He was the one I was supposed to meet on Friday before he had to rush home for a family emergency.
Yemi was very attentive. He waited until I finished my story, only interrupting with an occasional “okay” to show he was following. When I was done, he said I must be a saint and an angel in disguise to care so much about someone I’d known for just one week, even depositing such a large amount of money for him. He admired my beautiful spirit but then asked if it had crossed my mind that I might have been duped.
It felt like a punch to the gut. I hadn’t considered that. I’d been so consumed with worry about Daniel’s well-being that I hadn’t thought of foul play. I’d always believed only greedy people—those looking to make fast money—got duped.
Immediately, I remembered what Ogechi Umeora had told me about him. I opened Facebook to check my friend list, but Daniel wasn’t there. He’d tagged me in some pictures earlier that week, so I decided to check my wall. Nothing.
Panicked, I messaged Ogechi and asked her to check if she could still see him on Facebook. She said yes, they were still friends. That’s when my anger began to boil.
I couldn’t believe I’d been so gullible. I was furious. I returned to WhatsApp, where Yemi had sent a message asking if I was still there. I told him Daniel had blocked me on Facebook and explained what Ogechi had found. Yemi suggested I ask Ogechi to message Daniel.
I asked Ogechi to chat with Daniel and let me know if he responded. She agreed but asked what was going on. I brushed it off, telling her I’d explain later. I didn’t want to admit the full story to her—she’d warned me about him, and I knew she’d make fun of me. Worse, she’d probably share it with half the women in my university class.
For now, I just had to keep stringing her along until we got what we needed.