My first money and the regret that followed

The first significant pocket money was from a stranger when I was ten years old.
During that period I play outside a lot with other kids and we would walk about the streets running around and playing different outdoor games.
But on this day I was actually sent on an errands to a shop near the house to buy something for the house. On my way back home I saw a phone that looked exactly like my mom's phone, I knew my mom had her own phone before I left the house for the errand. But I still had some doubt in my mind, so I decided to pick up the phone and go back home.

Walking home the phone was blowing up with calls and messages and I was wondering why the call was calling that consistently. I decided to pick one of the calls, it was a male voice I heard and I wasn't even understanding what he was saying and the call was ended.

Well, I got home, showed my mama the phone, she asked me where I got it. I told her it was laying on the floor on my way back home.
She told me I've just picked up a stranger's phone and the person might be looking for it now. I then told her that they've been calling severally and 1 haven't been answering the phone except for the one time I heard the male voice.

So my mom said if they call back again she'll answer it, she said it might be the people who owns the phone.

It didn't take long till they were calling back, mom has gone inside so I ran to her with the phone and she picked the call. She gave the man direction on where to come get his phone.

When he arrived my mom told him I was the one who found the phone. The man was so happy to see me, he said I did a kind thing by keeping his phone for him, and then he rewarded me N2k which was to me a huge amount of money at that time.

To me, the money was wealth. So I was super excited I was the new rich kid.

I didn’t even know what I wanted to buy. All I knew was that it was my money. My first money. My own.

I did what every correct African child does, as we were taught. I went straight to my mother.

“Mommy, help me keep it for me.”

She collected it with that serious face that means, “I am the bank now.” She folded it, kept it somewhere only mothers know, and told me, “Go and wash your hands. Food is ready."

That night, I fell asleep like a rich person.

Two days later, I was craving biscuits, and I planned on buying the one I always wished I could buy but no enough money.

So I went back to the kitchen where my mom was, clearing my throat like someone about to give bad news.

“Mommy… my money.”

She didn’t even turn.

“Nne, which money?”

My heart started beating small-small.

“The one that man gave me, the one I asked you to keep for me.”

And that was when she finally faced me, with a spoon in her hand, eyes sharp.

"So you're asking me to give you back that small money, you don't know that this house needs money to run? The light you're using nko? What about the rice and stew we ate yesterday? Where do you expect all that money to come from, there's not enough money in this house so I added your money to give you a better life, and ours here asking me to give it back to you"

Before I could answer, the real speech started.

“I"m your mother , I carried you in my womb for nine months. I carried you on my back when you couldn’t even walk. I fed you when you didn’t know your left from your right. I never once asked you for money. You're not being grateful "

My eyes started doing press-up. My throat started burning. I was not even hungry again.

She continued.

“That money solved family problems. And you are part of this family. So you also benefited.”

At that point, I knew this was not a conversation. This was a judgment.

I walked out slowly, wiping my face, feeling like I had just been scammed by life itself.

When I related it to my friends they all laughed at me, and they asked who still gives African moms money to hold, they never pay back instead give you long speech. Most of them started relating their own stories too and it was basically the same thing, so we all concluded not to tell our mom's whenever we get money anywhere.

Growing older well it's still the same pattern, when my mom asks me to lend her money, I have in mind that what I'm doing is give her the money and not expect it back.

So..yeah, that was what happened to my first significant pocket money, I shed tears because I felt bad about it, but there was obviously nothing I could do about it, in the end she was still my mom.
I don't know is it's the same for other countries, but basically all Nigerian moms does this.

Thank you all for your time here, and I hope you enjoyed reading....see you all next time

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