Mimi thought she was protecting her longtime friend, Lizzy, from her worst money habits. But sticking to an agreed plan ended up costing Mimi more than she expected. Now, their friendship is strained, and she’s left wondering if doing the “right” thing was actually the wrong move.

When you’re done reading, you’ll get to decide: Did Mimi fuck up or not?

This is Mimi’s Dilemma, As Told To Boluwatife

I’ve been close friends with Lizzy for almost 6 years. In that time, I’ve learned her strengths and her flaws, and Lizzy has never been great at managing money. This isn’t me talking behind her back; she openly admits it.

I’ve seen it happen multiple times. In 2024, just after we wrote our final exams in uni, Lizzy told me about a small business idea she was really passionate about: selling skincare and makeup products. She talked about how it could help her earn extra income. 

She even had the capital for it, but instead of moving forward with the idea, she spent most of that money on her convocation. She bought two new outfits, a pair of shoes, and three bags. I understand she needed the outfits for the convocation photoshoot, but three bags? When I asked her why she splurged like that, she couldn’t give a reason. The money eventually ran out, and the business idea quietly died, too.

This event stuck with me because Lizzy seemed genuinely disappointed in herself afterwards. She told me she wished someone had stopped her.

So, when Lizzy got a ₦400k bonus from work in July 2025, she already knew what the problem would be. She said she wanted to save the money for rent (due in January 2026), but she didn’t trust herself to leave it untouched. Her solution was to give the money to me.

She told me clearly that once she transferred the money, I should not give it back to her under any circumstances until January. She made me promise, and I did. I honestly thought this was a sign of growth; she was recognising her weakness and asking for help.

When she sent the money, I took the responsibility seriously. In fact, I locked the money away in a savings app so it wouldn’t be easy to withdraw. In my head, this was me protecting her future self.

Three months later, in October, Lizzy came to me for the money. She said she urgently needed to change her phone because it had started malfunctioning. According to her, it had become a problem and was stressing her out.

I told her I couldn’t give her the money.

We had an agreement. She gave me the money specifically to stop herself from making impulse decisions. Also, I’d locked the money in a savings app and set a release date for January. If I withdrew the savings before the release date, I would forfeit about ₦14k. 

I knew Lizzy wouldn’t want to lose ₦14k from the amount. She would’ve just suggested that I lend her money from my savings instead, while I waited for her money to be released — She knew I had some money saved. 

However, I wasn’t willing to do that. I keep my money in several savings accounts and money instruments, and I don’t like to liquidate unless in an “everywhere is burning” emergency. I knew Lizzy wouldn’t understand that, so I just told her the money was locked until January.

Beyond all that, I didn’t see a phone as an emergency. To me, rent was more important than replacing a phone that still worked, even if it was inconvenient. I even offered to give her one of my old Android phones to manage if hers was disturbing her too much.

Lizzy refused. She just kept asking for her money. Each time she asked, I said no. I reminded her of why she trusted me with the money in the first place. I thought I was being a good friend by refusing to cave because things had gotten uncomfortable.

After that, everything changed.

Our conversations became tense. She stopped calling like she used to. Even when I reached out, Lizzy’s replies became short and distant. The warmth we’d had for six years just disappeared. 

On New Year’s Day, I sent Lizzy her money immediately, thinking it would end the tension. Instead, she told me I overdid it. She said I wasn’t a good friend. I should have understood her situation and helped her when she needed it. According to her, I treated her like a child and acted as if I knew better than she did.

I was shocked. Since then, I’ve tried to fix things. I’ve reached out. I’ve tried to talk about it calmly and explain my intentions. I’ve apologised for how the situation made her feel, even though I was just following the rules she set. But Lizzy remains cold and distant.

What hurts the most is that it feels like this six-year friendship is unravelling because of money, money I never touched or benefited from. I truly believed I was helping her as she asked me to.

Now I’m left questioning myself. Maybe I should have been more flexible. Perhaps I should have trusted her judgment. Or did I do exactly what a good friend was supposed to do? I really don’t know.

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