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.
Kelvin* (33) swore never to lend his long-time friend Derin* (32) money again after he defaulted on a loan. But after deciding to stand on business, the aftermath left him conflicted.
When you’re done reading, you’ll get to decide: Did he fuck up or not?

This is Kelvin’s dilemma as shared with Betty:
Derin has been one of my best guys since uni. We bonded over our shared love for football and Manchester United, and quickly became inseparable.
We lived in the same hostel and shared everything — food, clothes, money, and more. In 2017, after we graduated, I got into tech as a designer and earned a decent money from international gigs. My income soon outweighed what Derin earned as a human resources officer.
His work workplace was toxic and always delayed salaries, so he often borrowed small amounts from me to survive till payday. It was usually ₦20k here or ₦30k there. The amounts were small enough that I never asked him to pay back. I felt I could have spent the money on something trivial anyway.
But in 2019, Derin asked me to lend him ₦700k. He said he wanted to start a poultry business and promised to pay me back in six months. I told him I was saving for a trip, so I’d need the money back as planned. He agreed and promised he would repay it.
Six months passed, and Derin didn’t mention the loan. I figured he needed more time, so I let it slide. A month later, I gave him a gentle nudge. He said he’d pay me back in two weeks. Two weeks came and went, still nothing. When I called him again, he said his favourite aunt fell sick and he’d used part of the money for her hospital bills.
I wanted to give Derin some more time, but then my phone got stolen and I needed money to replace it. When I asked about the repayment again, Derin flared up and accused me of hounding him like I thought he’d run away with the money. I got upset. I’d been more than patient, especially since he chose the repayment deadline himself.
That argument turned into one of our biggest fights. We didn’t speak for a week until he finally sent ₦350k. We made up afterwards, but he never mentioned the balance again. I also didn’t bring it up. I simply resolved I wouldn’t lend him money anymore.
At first, Derin stopped asking for small loans, and I kept quiet too. But almost a year later, in August 2020, he sent an urgent text. He said his dog had caught a parvovirus and needed ₦300k for treatment. He promised to pay me back at the end of the month.
My first instinct was to send the money, but I remembered the unpaid balance from the last loan and how he’d never even brought it up. So, I held back. I told him my expenses were high that month and I couldn’t spare it.
Unfortunately, his dog didn’t make it. He didn’t even tell me about it. I only found out from his WhatsApp status. I sent him a message saying, “Sorry about your loss,” but he flung my well wishes back in my face. He insulted me, called me a useless friend and said I was the reason his dog died.
Am I a virus? The statement annoyed me. I reminded him that I’d lent him far more than ₦300k in the past, and he had never paid it back. But, he said I should have considered the life at stake before saying no.
I found his reasoning ridiculous, but that argument changed our friendship. We haven’t been the same since. However, I still feel torn. I sometimes wonder if I should have just sent the money, even though I’d probably never see it again.
Also Read: 5 Nigerians Open Up on Going No Contact With Their Parents



