Once upon a time, I recapped an insane Christian book that claimed the devil created football as a tool to destroy humanity. The article’s popularity made me turn my recaps into a weekly series named “So You Don’t Have To“, where I find batshit crazy pieces of media (books, movies, etc) and recap them for your pleasure.

I was ogling scantily clad people on my Instagram explore page one afternoon in December 2020 when a guy whose handle I didn’t recognise followed me. Thinking it was someone I knew in real life with a handle that didn’t match their government name, I clicked to view their profile hoping it would jog my memory. Scrolling down his profile for a few seconds confirmed I had no idea who this person was so I was going to bounce when his bio got my attention.

After letting out a small high-pitched scream, I tweeted about it:

And someone suggested this:

So I followed him back, hoping I could get him to explain how he does his thing.

I don’t exactly believe in money ritual. However, in the event that I’m wrong and money ritual is possible, I believe it’ll require the most powerful mystical energy source in the universe.

A human soul.

But then, I was bored so I thought, “Why the hell not?” I followed him back, and he messaged me immediately.

I replied…

…and he ignored my question, following it up with a question that no one wants to hear from a person they’re speaking to for the very first time.

I won’t lie, this question weirded me out. But I was determined to get a “So You Don’t Have To” article out of this so I continued.

And he ignored me AGAIN.

It made me want to scream because it was rude as hell. But I didn’t want to scare him away so I replied kindly and tried to push the conversation forward.

And he replied with a super cliché line.

We had finally gotten to why I was doing all this. Time to start the information extraction.

I was hesitant about giving him my phone number. I knew I was going to block him after getting the information I needed. But I hadn’t gotten this far to turn back.

I stored his name as “Herb’ because he had the word “herbalistin his bio.

He kept trying to find out more information about me. So I went into LIE MODE.

After telling me his name, he kept asking questions like I was being interviewed for a job. Me I sha kept lying my ass off.

The Nigerian government would be so proud of me.

He kept doing this weird thing where he’ll reply to the last message he sent with “Ok” if I don’t respond fast enough.

So damn weird.

I didn’t know what to make of this question so I went with the most eager-sounding response I could think of.

That wasn’t enough for him though because he still asked this:

Then we FINALLY got down to business.

Something about him putting his picture on his bizarre rate card made me laugh so hard. I kept pushing for the information I needed.

But he insisted on me picking one of the options on his rate card so I did.

What came next was something I couldn’t lie my way around.

Giving out a phone number (I hardly ever use) is one thing. But sending my name and full picture? That’s some old school Nollywood witchcraft shit. Your boy got scared. So for the first time in the conversation, I told the truth.

He attempted to soothe my fears…

…and did a terrible job by asking this:

The following meme best describes the reaction I had to this request.

I lied that the network where I was was bad and a video call wouldn’t work. I was tired of his reluctance to spill tea and my responses were starting to show it.

He kept trying to convince me to send my picture and I let him know I would only do so if he explained how his “magic” works. He agreed.

Then kept trying to get me to part with money.

*heavy Igbo sigh*

He was so focused on trying to get me to send money, he skipped my question and went straight to talking about the native costs.

He can make money out of thin air but he lives in Ijebu Ode. Ok oh.

I was going to keep leading him on until he said this:

And suddenly, I was like:

While I tried to figure out my next move, he kept sending messages.

Then he sent a video of someone pouring money out of a bag.

So I did the only I had left to do.

I thought that was the end of it until he popped back up like a sexually ambiguous slasher movie villain.

With another number! AH!!!

I started begging because I genuinely did not want to do again. But he refused to hear word and kept pleading. I became irritated and blocked that number too because what kind of self-respecting juju man begs customers for patronage?

Arab money family bawo.

Or is it?

Honestly, I still worry sometimes that the guy is going to find and force me to do a vegan money ritual in Ijebu Ode while dressed in Kente cloth. So if I go missing at any point, know that I did it to bring you guys fun content and AVENGE ME!!!

I Went Through Weird Sex Toy Shops So You Don’t Have To

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Zikoko amplifies African youth culture by curating and creating smart and joyful content for young Africans and the world.