When my brother introduced his girlfriend to me, I almost screamed.

 

In fact, the village girl in me screamed immediately when I got home.

The girl was not just beautiful. She was classy. Polished. Intentional. The kind of woman that walks into a room and the room adjusts.

And I knew instantly… my brother could not maintain this one cream, ma ya fo si kwa her skin routine alone? Her wigs? Her lifestyle?

The slippers on her legs were nothing less than 30k. The dress? At least 150k. Her bag was a purse Channel kind of bag and we all know how much that might cost.

Let me not even start with her makeup or her long acrylic polished nails.

Nwata but so nma.

But my sister… nah money kill am.

When we got home that day, I joked,

“Brother biko, where did you see this fine chikito?”

He smiled with pride.

“I know you already like her. Trust your brother now. I get eyes for fine things.”

I laughed.

“No be lie. You really get eyes for good things. Nah eeh, the nwa Amaka noo.”

He was nodding his head like an agama lizard, chest lifted, shoulders high.

Then I asked quietly,

“But brother… sincerely… you don’t like yourself? This Ajibota pikin wey you go carry so… can you maintain her?”

That was when he sparked.

“What do you mean?” His voice sharpened. “Do you think everyone is like you that doesn’t want to build with a young man who is still struggling? That is why you are not yet married.”

“Aaahh!!” I exclaimed. See how stray bullet hit my singleness.

He didn’t even look at me.

“Everyone is not a koromoto babe like you. Remove your mouth from my relationship.”

I laughed.

Did it pain me that he called me koromoto babe?

Never.

Did it pain me that he reminded me of my single status at 25?

Mbanu.

We moveee.

But inside my heart, I knew something.

Shey this load my brother went and carry… he will hear it.

My brother had just finished serving his Oga. He was settled with over six million naira. He used it to start his cosmetic and cream business.

 

So yes, he was feeling like Odogwu. Feeling like point .

Meanwhile, after my service year, I had no job. A calm girl like me that my mama trained well, I told him I would help in the shop.

I was living with him anyway.

I would cook at home so he wouldn’t waste money buying food outside. I would help in the shop so he wouldn’t hire a sales girl.

If it is small money to hold body and soul together, he should just give me. While I apply for work.

That was the plan.

Before my brother carried his omalicha nwa when business started booming.

One afternoon, I was arranging supplies when she stepped down from an Uber in front of our shop.

Koro koro in my eyes.

She said she needed her skincare routine.

My brother packed goods worth over 300k. Creams. Serums. Oils. Full package.

She gave him small peck and light hug by the side.

That was all.

As he carried the bag to the car, she waved and zoomed off.

Pim.

I didn’t talk.

As he returned inside, his cheeks were red because of one small peck.

Inside my heart I muttered, “Onye eriri eri.”

The next day, her call came again.

“Omalicham… but it was just yesterday I gave you products worth over 300k. What do you need another 300k for?”

He tried lowering his voice so I wouldn’t hear.

But my ear dey hear wella.

She was ranting.

“I told you I need to book a flight urgently to Lagos. Obim, why are you sounding like this because of ordinary 300k? Do you know how many men are willing to give me that if I ask?”

My brother cut in quickly.

“Asa m, don’t talk like that. How can you be with me and still talk about other men?”

Then she switched tone immediately.

“A mam na ikariri okwu ighoteru, mana kpaputa ego ka o sie. Are you not my Odogwu Nwoke? My point and kill?”

I watched my brother smile.

Just like that.

“Osugo. I will send it sharp sharp. My baby must be in Lagos tomorrow. Money is not the problem.”

Before I could say pim, he wired it.

The demands did not stop.

Next day, she landed in Lagos. Saw a Peruvian wig.

700k.

She sent a voice note explaining how she paid deposit already. How the quality was rare. How she trusted him.

My brother played it out loud accidentally.

He looked at me.

I didn’t say anything.

Then he exploded.

“Odika this girl feelu that I pluck money from trees? One week relationship and I have spent over one million plus! Is there no end?”

He looked at me to talk.

I didn’t.

Shey he said I am koromoto babe.

He is yet to see original koromoto baby with swagalicious swagger.

That evening, he couldn’t eat properly.

He moulded garri absentmindedly.

“Ifeoma,” he said slowly. “Do you think she truly loves me? Or is she here to squander my money? Is she an agent of darkness?”

I almost laughed but held it.

“Even if she was an agent, you permitted her into your life.”

“How? She loves me and I love her.”

I looked at him calmly.

“If she truly loves you, she would know you are just starting. A woman who loves you does not bill you recklessly. Even if you give her, she weighs it. She asks herself if it will weigh you down.”

I paused.

“I am here cooking. Helping. Not because I am a fool. But because I want you to grow.”

He didn’t respond.

But something shifted.

The next day, she called again.

He picked.

Apologized for not responding.

Even promised to send what he could.

I felt like crying.

But God intervened.

While she was still talking, a male voice entered from the background.

“Babe you were so hot yesterday night. You be a baddie I swear.”

Silence.

Then she cut the call.

My brother froze.

He called back repeatedly.

Her line stopped going through.

That night… was different.

He didn’t shout.

He didn’t curse.

He just sat down.

Still.

Very still.

For the first time since I knew him, my brother looked small.

He didn’t eat.

He stared at the wall like something inside him had collapsed.

The pride.

The Odogwu.

The point and kill.

Gone.

Around 2am, I heard movement in the sitting room.

He was there alone.

Head in his hands.

I heard him whisper,

“I was a fool.”

The next few days were heavy.

He avoided the shop. Avoided customers. Avoided mirrors.

The same man that was blushing because of one peck now couldn’t even hold eye contact with himself.

Shame broke him more than heartbreak.

He calculated the money in silence.

Over one million in barely a week.

He wasn’t just heartbroken.

His ego was bruised.

He had been remoted.

Praised into foolishness.

He dusted himself slowly.

Very slowly.

One morning, I woke up to a long text.

He thanked me for being the best sister. For speaking truth. For staying even when he insulted me.

He sent me 700k for all the months I worked.

I returned 500k and kept only 200k.

He wept.

That day he said, “Now I understand what you meant.”

We focused on the business.

Expanded to two shops.

God blessed it.

Omalicha came back after one month to beg.

My brother did not give her a chance.

I personally walked her out of the shop.

He later opened another shop and settled me with it.

That was how I met my husband.

My brother got married too.

Now sometimes he laughs and tells me,

“Omalicha show me shege. God forbid I didn’t learn.”

And we laugh.

But inside that laughter is a lesson.

Not every omalicha is for keeping.

Some are for teaching.

And my brother… he learned well.

 

Morals:

 

Where there is real love, there is consideration.

Where there is manipulation, there is constant billing.

Discernment helps you know the difference before the lesson becomes expensive.