Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle)

Sink Or Swim

FUOYO

Whoever said yahoo was easy told a big lie. I don't know what I really expected at first, but the first full month I started 'hustling' with Shaq was a living hell. Imagine staying up all night sitting in a fishing boat, casting a wide but torn net into a shallow river. Most of the fishes you pull up are no good, some are just out to waste time, others have already been scarred and wiser to your fishing antics, but if you're lucky enough and hardworking enough and play your cards well, you just might catch a nice big fish, rich enough and in love enough to oblige your frequent financial requests. This was the goal.

Shaq was a rare kind of yahoo boy. He seemed to have principles,
"I live by 3 rules..." he  told me, "3 golden rules....if you stick to them, me and you will get along just fine and you'll cashout better block sooner or later;
1, you either involve God or you involve the devil. There's no sitting on the fence in this business. Me I go to church every Sunday, I pray first thing every morning and every night before bed. I read the psalms when I can, this life is not just about hustling, the main thing is seeing results. You must hustle with the belief that you have grace and activate that grace if you want to have a fruitful hustle. But if you want to go and wash your head in shrine or start eating shit and all those rubbish, I wish you all the best but not in my home bro"

I was flabberghasted but I nodded.

"number 2, never rip off your hommie. Any business you run with someone, always make sure you fulfil your end and the person sees something from it, even if it's the least money you can deliver, do it for the sake of future deals. I'm saying this cause when better money gets involved now, it will bring out your greedy side, especially since owu don dey give you over 2.5 since" he broke off laughing and I chuckled.

"no mind me jare," he became serious again. "Okay finally number 3; there has to be blood in your eyes, as in you have to be relentless. Can you keep hustling for months with nothing to show for it until you catch the perfect fish? See forget all these long talk you hear about G, all you need is to catch one person that can change your life. Just one! But first you need to be hungry." He stared long and hard into my eyes, "are you hungry?"

"oh I'm hungry bro, i'm very hungry"

"Good"

:::
Shaq already had two children from 2 different women, he was also a very chronic mama's boy. I mean his mom called him almost every night and he drove to go see her every weekend. Now that I think of it, I guess he was able to lead a somewhat stable life because of the considerable influence his mother still wielded over him. I mean Shaq had millions sitting in his account, yet preferred to spend friday and saturday night at home, drinking booze, smoking skunk and playing call of duty on his playstation.

As for me? oh...just wait till I get this money first. I was going to ball, as in the highest kind of balling, I was going to conquer Lagos, fuck fine girls, classic babes, bad bitches, I was already handsome I just needed the freshness that came with money.

I sighed and shook the thoughts out of my head. 3 weeks 4 days gone and nothing to show yet. Shaq kept telling me,  "remember, be relentless...nothing comes easy. Or do you think it's easy to scam a rational person. We're talking about emotional manipulation here, it doesn't happen overnight. You either sink or swim, the choice is yours"

"I know, I know...but you nko? I don't see you chatting with anybody iht after night..." I sighed. To tell the truth Shaq hardly ever did anything. He had gotten to Godfather status now and he had dozens of younger and even older boys who were under him. He put them through, gave them instructions and tools and they put in the work while he picked up the money and collected his generous cut. And no matter how we looked at it, I was also one of his boys now. The only difference was I had friends status and lived in his house and drove his car.

Shaq scoffed at my comment, and the way he looked at me made me think he had been privy to my thoughts. "Do you know when I started bombing? Since secondary school I've been hustling, that's almost a decade now. You're even privileged, there's unlimited data in this house, laptop dey, phone dey, there's good food, even alcohol. You can't compare yourself to me right now bro. Where were you those days of saving money all week just to treck to Eric Moore and use cyber cafe for 1 hour?"

After his reprimand, I felt a fire begin to burn in my belly and over the next weeks, I practically threw myself into my catfish profile.  I put in all my mental capacity (if it was worth much), my emotions, I invested myself totally in the life. My girlfriend broke up with me saying I had become emotionally unavailable and I couldn't care less. I basically became the phony profile I had created and over the coming days I got more replies.

Great! I pulled up my net but there was nothing of note, most of the women seemed to sense the profile was fake and they either stopped responding or blocked me. But this time I didn't get frustrated, I got hungrier and became a nocturnal animal. Sleeping all day, pressing all night.

:::
Every yahoo boy has one prayer, that is, to catch one sure client. That's what keeps the hungry ones going, even after running into brick walls of disappointment, time and time again. This was what kept me going, and the fact that Shaq was kind enough to let his own generous cuts from his many working boys trickle into my hands and so I wasn't outright broke and could afford to send my mother some little money every week. It wasn't much but she was grateful I was sending her something from my salary and still saving on the side, plus I kept assuring her I was going to get promoted and get a huge salary raise anytime soon from my phony job. So I kept grinding or as Shaq called it, 'hustliiiiiing'

It was in the 11th week I met Lori Mau. Lori was a medical doctor, in her late fifties, she had been widowed for 18 years and was tired of being alone. Her daughter Stacy had married an European and so she only got to see her grandchildren during the holidays. Probably feeling a little guilt about how lonely her mother was, Stacy persuaded her to try out an elite dating site for the elderly.

After weeks of continuous hounding from her daughter, Lori gave in and opened a profile. On her 4th day on the site, she received a message; "Hello, you have the prettiest eyes"

"Thanks" she replied. Curious, she clicked on the thumbnail and checked out the profile. She liked his name; Josh Ince. She spent a couple of minutes going through the colourful pictures on his profile and who could blame her? Josh was a handsome middle aged man, with blue eyes and a dreamy smile. He had a couple of pictures with a young teen who looked a lot like him and a picture with a cat. Lori loved that one the most, she thought he looked so sweet, snuggled in bed with the cat, and for the first time in a long time, Lori felt a kind of longing in her heart.

His bio was also very interesting. He was a sea-search and rescue Helicopter pilot. "Wow," She was quite breathless as she scanned his info and when she heard the notification of an incoming message from him, she smiled and felt her heart race.

Lori spent 3 hours chatting on her laptop with her new admirer. When she finally had to call it a night, she gave him her number and Josh promised to call the next day. She stayed up an extra 30 minutes, rereading all the messages and smiling like a little girl. She went to bed feeling happy and hopeful.

::
Somewhere in Lagos, a young man of 22 logged off his laptop and glanced at the wall clock. The time read; 5:18am. He gazed into space for some seconds then smiled and pumped his fist in the air. His name wasn't Josh, it was.....you guessed it, yours truly.