Post by Onyinye Okoh (@Deekreative)

My sister emptied my ₦150 million savings and escaped to Dubai. Three days later, she called me crying, “Kemi, what did you do?!”

My name is Kemi Adeyemi. I am 34 years old. I work as a data analyst in Port Harcourt. I live with my daughter Maya. She is 9 years old.

Every Friday morning, I do the same things. I make breakfast, open my laptop, pay my bills, and buy food online. It is a simple life, but it is safe for Maya.

That Friday, my card did not work. I wanted to pay ₦85,000 for food. The bank said "declined". I tried my second card. It also said "declined".

I checked my bank app. My heart stopped.

My main account had only ₦14,320. My savings had only ₦28,140. The savings should have ₦150 million. That money was for rent, for Maya's school, and for our future.

I called the bank fast. After they checked my name, the woman spoke slow.

"Madam, someone moved money from your account last night."

"How much? Where?"

"₦150 million. To Dubai. Your sister approved it. Funke Adeyemi."

My sister.

Three months ago, Funke cried in my kitchen. She said she needed my help to get a loan. She asked me to add her name to my bank account. She said, "I will never touch your money. I swear."

I believed her because she is my sister.

Now her phone is off. I called my father in Ibadan.

"Papa, Funke took all my money and ran to Dubai."

He said, "Stop making noise. She only borrowed it. Don't shame your sister."

I called my mother. She said, "Funke told us about her new business. Her boyfriend Chidioke is a smart man. Forget about money. Family is forever."

I looked at my empty account. In my family, I am always the one who must suffer.

Then Funke sent me a message. It was a photo. She was in a fine hotel in Dubai, holding a drink. A man was behind her, smiling.

She wrote: Sorry Kemi. This is a big chance for me. I will pay you back one day. Don't call me, it is too costly. Love you.

My cup fell from my hand and broke. My rent is due soon. Maya's school fees are not paid. And nobody wants to help me.

I sat on the kitchen floor and cried. Maya came out of her room. She wore her pink nightwear and held her tablet.

She saw the broken cup. She saw my laptop. She saw my tears.

I told her, "Aunty Funke did a bad thing. She took all our money."

Maya did not cry. She sat next to me on the floor. She put her small hand on my shoulder.

"Mummy, don't worry. I will handle it."

I kissed her head. I thought it was just child talk.

For three days, I went to the bank. I went to the police. I filled many forms. I had no money for food.

Maya stayed quiet with her tablet. I thought she was watching cartoons.

On the third night, by 2:14am, my phone rang. It was a WhatsApp call from Dubai.

It was Funke. She was crying loud.

"Kemi! What did you do?!"

I woke up fast. "What are you saying?"

"They have locked my account! They locked Chidioke's account too! The hotel says we cannot leave!"

Then she shouted, "Did you send someone after us?!"

I looked at Maya's bedroom door in the dark. I remembered her calm voice on the kitchen floor: "I will handle it."

Now I was scared. What did my 9-year-old daughter do?

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