After trying several businesses without much luck, *Laide (43) finally found success—until someone she trusted turned her world upside down. In this story, she shares how brutal competition, betrayal, and an unexpected twist pushed her to eventually choose kindness.

This is Laide’s story, as told to Mofiyinfoluwa.

I had tried my hand at different businesses over the years, but nothing ever worked quite like the provisions store I started in 2021. 

It wasn’t even some grand plan. During COVID-19, while moving through a busy area near a nursing school, I noticed how hard it was for people to get basic items. The nearest market was far, and social distancing made things even harder. Life had to go on, but people were struggling. It seemed obvious to me that the community needed a shop. So, I took a high-interest bank loan, bought a container, stocked it with essentials and set up within the area.

The business boomed faster than I could have imagined. As restrictions eased, I became the go-to person for everything from provisions to toiletries. It helped that I was the only shop around selling at market prices. Within months, I expanded into foodstuffs like rice, beans, and oil. I was grateful for every day and without regrets. I even paid off my loan faster than I anticipated. 

About a year into the business, in 2023, I started seeing a regular face I came to know as *Mary. She was a little younger and was very friendly. She often lingered after shopping to gist with my salesgirl and always dashed her change. I didn’t know much about her beyond the fact that she lived nearby and seemed harmless.

Then one day, Mary approached me for a favour. She said her sister was in an abusive marriage, and that she and her siblings were pooling money to set her up in business. She begged me to share my distributor’s contact information so they could help her start a provision store. 

I was hesitant at first. In this kind of business, your distributor is your lifeline, and sharing that information felt like giving away too much. But Mary appealed to my emotions, reminding me what it meant to be a woman supporting another woman. In the end, I gave in. After all, her sister’s shop would be too far to pose any threat to me.

Shortly after that conversation, Mary disappeared. I grew concerned and even tried calling her a few times to ask about her sister, but she never answered. I didn’t think much of it again until three months later, when I arrived at my shop one morning and walked straight into one of the biggest shocks of my life. 

Right beside my container stood another container, fully stocked with the exact same goods I sold. And there was Mary, tapping her phone, and acting like I didn’t exist. My shock quickly turned into rage. I confronted her right there and asked her why she lied. Why did she betray my kindness? She refused to look up.

I ran to the caretaker. Our original agreement was that no one selling the same goods would be allowed on the land. He apologised and explained that Mary had tricked him too. She told him she was setting up an okrika business, but by the time the truth came out, it was too late —the landlord had already accepted her rent.

I was furious. But I told myself not to fight. I had built my business, and my customers would be loyal to me. After all, they knew me first. But I was wrong. 

Slowly, my customers began to flock to Mary’s shop instead. I watched helplessly as the people who once crowded my stall walked right past to hers. Out of desperation, I even tried standing outside by the road, calling out to customers, but none of it really worked. On some days, I would sit from morning till night, and only two or three people would walk in. Restocking became a struggle, and my money kept running out.

At first, I blamed the economy like everyone else. But one afternoon, one of my old customers came in looking very upset. She had bought oil from Mary’s shop, realised it was substandard, and came to buy from me instead. After she left, Mary burst into my shop, screaming insults and causing a huge scene. In the middle of her ranting, she made a threat I’ll never forget — that very soon, I’d be completely out of business, and she didn’t mind if it meant harming my children.

That was when I knew this wasn’t an ordinary competition. 

On a friend’s advice, I went to a church for prayers. Without even saying much, the pastor confirmed my suspicions that Mary had been using juju. She had even gone the extra mile by using items she bought from my shop to spiritually capture my customers. I was devastated. I had helped her with a clean heart, and she went so far to ruin me. 

The pastor suggested I retaliate. He told me to collect a handful of sand from the front of her store, speak curses into it, and pour it back at the spot. 

One evening, after she had closed, I made sure no one was watching, scooped the sand, and stood with it in my hand. But when it was time to curse her, something inside me refused. I couldn’t bring myself to wish evil on her, no matter how badly she had hurt me. Instead, I prayed over my own shop and poured the sand away.

Something terrible happened a few weeks later. One morning, we came to find Mary’s shop burned to the ground. Faulty wiring had caused an electrical fire that destroyed everything. Of course, people gossiped. Some laughed and said it was payback for what she did, while others looked at me suspiciously. But inside, I felt nothing but relief that my hands were clean. If I had done the sand prayer, I would have spent the rest of my life wondering if I had caused it.

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Still, seeing Mary standing there, crying in front of the remains, moved me. I had heard her husband was a useless drunk, and she was the breadwinner for her family. No matter what she did, I couldn’t help but pity he

For weeks, I couldn’t sleep properly. The image of her from that day kept haunting me. One afternoon, without telling anyone, I called her over. Quietly, I gave her a small loan to start again. I told her we didn’t have to be enemies. We didn’t even have to be friends, but we could coexist peacefully. She didn’t say much; she just cried and thanked me, probably because she was shocked. 

Till today, Mary runs a small shed beside my store. She still sells provisions, but no longer stocks foodstuffs — maybe as her way of keeping peace with me. We aren’t close, but we greet each other. Sometimes, I help her children out. We even refer customers to each other once in a while.

My business eventually recovered. Slowly at first, but things have picked up now. Whatever happened, I am grateful every day that I chose to stay in my lane. In the end, staying true to myself was what helped us overcome.

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