Sometimes, life puts you in messy situations where you’re not sure if you’re doing the right thing or not. That’s what Na Me F— Up? is about — real Nigerians sharing the choices they’ve made, while you decide if they fucked up or not.
Amanda* (21) and Happiness* (21) became best friends at the polytechnic, and they remained close even after graduation. When Happiness needed a job, Amanda happily recommended her to her workplace, but that proved to be a wrong decision. Within months, Happiness began to cause trouble at work, leaving Amanda with a tough choice.
When you’re done reading, you’ll get to decide: Did Amanda fuck up or not?
This is Amanda’s Dilemma, As Told To Boluwatife
Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn’t have lost my best friend if I’d just kept my mouth shut and let things play out. But every time I replay what happened, I also understand that silence might’ve cost me my job, or worse, my peace.
Let me start from the beginning.
Before my life became a moral dilemma, I had a simple routine: wake up, go to work at the supermarket on the next street, force myself to smile at customers and count the minutes till closing time. I’d been working as an attendant at the supermarket for about six months, and my relationship with the job was complicated.
While I didn’t love it — being a supermarket attendant wasn’t what I had hoped to do with my Higher National Diploma — it helped me survive. At least, my ₦15k salary helped me “see road” as I jobhunted and tried to save money for NYSC and to continue my education.
So, in March, when my friend of five years, Happiness, complained about being tired of job hunting with no success, I didn’t think twice before recommending her for a job at the supermarket.
When I say “friend,” I don’t mean casual “hi-bye” friendship. Happiness was my best friend. We met in school, bonded over the annoying lecturers in our department, and became inseparable.
Our parents even knew each other through our friendship. Her mum once cooked for me the night my phone got stolen, and I went to her house crying. We shared clothes and passwords; there was nothing we didn’t know about each other. So naturally, I wanted her close. I was excited about the idea of working together and having inside jokes at work.
I connected Happiness with the manager, Mrs Bello, and put my reputation on the line. I’m something of a “manager’s pet” at work because of how good I am at my job. Mrs Bello trusted me a lot, and I only had to assure her that Happiness would be as trustworthy and hardworking as I was. She agreed and employed her.
At first, everything went smoothly. We often worked on the same shifts, so we’d arrange shelves together, gossip during break, and laugh about customers who came in acting like they could afford to buy all of us. It was fun.
However, a few months after she started, strange things began to happen.
Small products, such as snacks, chocolate bars, and random skincare items, would often go missing. Sometimes the cash didn’t tally at the end of the day, and Mrs Bello started side-eyeing everyone.
The first few times it happened, Mrs Bello told us she’d remove the difference from our salaries. Later, the other attendants accused one of us — Miriam, a sweet, quiet girl who always said “sorry” even when you stepped on her. There was no evidence, and she denied it; however, many of the losses occurred during her shift, so Mrs Bello started deducting the money from her salary.
Interestingly, Miriam, Happiness and I often worked the same shifts, but she was the likely suspect. The “manager’s pet” couldn’t steal, and no one expected the person I recommended to do that either.
I even told myself it was the normal store loss. Those things happened a lot. Customers could have stolen the items or a recording error may have caused a difference in the number of items.
But then, one morning, I came in early to set up for a price change and saw Happiness in the back corner. She didn’t notice me at first. She was skillfully sliding a bar of Bounty chocolate into her bag like someone who had rehearsed the move.
Shocked, I confronted her, and she admitted to being behind the recent losses. When she saw the disapproval on my face, she tried to backtrack, claiming it was “just small small things” that she sometimes forgot to pay for. By the time Mrs Bello noticed the loss, she couldn’t admit to taking the item anymore because it’d look like stealing.
When I asked, “So are you comfortable with someone else taking the blame for what you did?” She just shrugged in response and said she wouldn’t do it anymore.
I had no choice but to believe her, so I kept quiet.
I had to believe she was telling me the truth. We’d been friends for years, and I’d never seen her do something like that. Sure, she often took my clothes and shoes without telling me, but I don’t consider that stealing. Friends share clothes all the time.
So, I covered the truth. I kept quiet when two more items went missing over the next few weeks. I kept quiet when Mrs Bello screamed at Miriam again, and the girl resigned out of frustration.
Then Happiness struck again. This time, ₦2k went missing from the register on the night that I, her, and two other ladies worked. Happiness confided in me that she took the money, but she treated the situation like a big joke.
As Mrs Bello ranted about the loss, Happiness kept sharing secret smiles with me and mocking Mrs Bello’s facial expressions.
The whole thing made me really nervous and a little guilty. Since Miriam was gone, what would stop them from blaming me next? If we blamed someone else, would people continue to lose their jobs for no reason? What if I lost my job because I was protecting someone who didn’t even care about the damage she was causing?
Later that night, as we closed, I went up to Mrs Bello and confessed everything. It was clear Happiness wouldn’t change, and I was tired of being in the middle. I assumed she’d just fire Happiness quietly, and I could just pretend not to have anything to do with it.
Unfortunately for me, Mrs Bello publicly lashed out at Happiness and revealed I was the one who snitched. Happiness stared at me with a silent, cold expression, and I immediately wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.
I knew immediately that things would never be the same.
This was in October, and since then, Happiness has blamed me for losing her job and “ruining her reputation.”
She doesn’t pick up my calls or respond to my WhatsApp messages anymore, but she’s constantly shading me on her WhatsApp status, posting things like:
“Beware of friends who smile in your face and stab you behind.”
“Some people pretend to help you, but they only help themselves.”
Our mums have also stopped talking. Her mum called to accuse me of being a bad friend without bothering to listen to my side. My mum feels both mother and daughter are the same and has warned me to stay away from them.
I really miss my friend. I’ve been trying to apologise, but she doesn’t want to hear from me. Was I wrong for speaking up, or should I have just ignored her actions? If I kept quiet, we would still be friends, but I might have lost my job.
Should I have chosen friendship over survival? I ask myself these questions daily, and still haven’t settled on an answer.
*Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
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