Yesterday afternoon, I saw a boy with his stitching machine and called him in to mend some of my trousers that were too long.
When I brought them out, he looked at them and said with a sweet Hausa intonation, “Oga, this one e cost oh. Why you no give am big man tailor?”
Unknown to him, these were cheap trousers from Temu. Lol.
I told him to go ahead and try with one first. I needed to be sure he could do a neat job. He did and it came out great.
He went on to do the rest and even reduced the sleeve length of my jacket.
While he was at it, I engaged him in my usual playful discussion.
He told me his name was Muhammad, from Kano. Not married yet because he doesn’t have money.
I told him my own name was KAA. He thought I said car. Lol.
He asked if I had ever been to Kano. I said yes, I had been there twice when I was a pastor. Then he asked if I was married. I gave him the same answer he gave me:
“Muhammad, me too, I never marry. I no get money.”
He looked at me with a funny face, and we both laughed like two old friends.
As usual, the next thought in my head was what I could do for him that might change his life for good.
I asked why he didn’t have a shop of his own. He said, “Oga, shop e cost too much for that my area.”
I asked him, what if I rent the shop for him, buy him another machine and materials, would he be able to manage the shop and grow the business?
He said yes, but added that he really wanted to own a provision store, not a tailoring shop.
According to him, he once had one, but the business collapsed. I said to him, “Muhammad, I hope if I open this business for you, you will not go and marry two wives that will finish the money?”
We laughed over that, and one of the editors in the studio who witnessed our discussion was excited for Muhammad because he knew the boy’s life was about to change.
He wouldn’t be the first in a long list of people I have done this for. It’s my own way of doing giveaway.
When Muhammad was done with the clothes, I gave him my phone number and asked him to call me once he found a shop.
I went to my car, brought out a bundle of mint N200 notes, counted N11,000 out of it, and gave it to him.
Shockingly, while my hand was still stretched out with the money, instead of collecting it, he asked me how much it was.
I told him to collect and count.
He reluctantly did, and after counting, I asked him if the money was too small. He said yes. In his words: “Oga, big man like you, you go give me all the money nah.” He wanted me to give him N20,000.
I was so disappointed because I had paid him more than he had earned and expected him to show appreciation. This was somoene I had already concluded plans to spend at least two million Naira to set him up in a better business.
I calmly asked how much he wanted me to pay him per cloth. These clothes were seven in total, and I had paid N11,000.
When I asked that question, he just smiled and said, “Oga, you be big man. You suppose give me all the money nah.” Then he went on to put the 11k in his pocket.
So, the issue was not that I didn’t pay him enough. The problem was that because he saw me as a “big man,” he was ready to exploit me.
Right there, I changed my mind. When he asked if he should still look for a shop, I simply gave him the remaining N9,000 in my hands and told him there was no need to look for the shop anymore.
Why do most people overcharge those they consider rich? I have experienced it many times.
This was the same way I once stopped to buy bananas by the roadside near my house. The woman told me N8,000. I went home, parked my car, and walked back. The same woman then told me N5,000 for the exact same bunch of bananas.
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