His name was Tunde and he believed one simple thing. Money comes to those who are smart enough to avoid sweat he said it often at the roadside in small bars to friends who had stopped listening but still nodded anyway. Tunde was not lazy in the way people think he woke up early he moved around he talked a lot he chased ideas but he never stayed long enough on one thing to build it into something real.Work felt like a trap to him he once got a job at a small electronics shop the owner liked him at first because Tunde could talk well and attract customers but after two weeks he started complaining, the man is making money from me he told his friend Musa one evening I sell and he keeps the profit that is not life
Musa asked him a simple question,Did you bring the shop or the goods?
Tunde waved it off that one is not important what matters is who brings customers he quit the next day, after that he jumped from one idea to another he tried betting at first he won small and that was enough to convince him he had found his path he began to speak like a man who had seen the future.
Football is money if you understand it he would say but the small wins did not last losses came slowly at first then all at once still he refused to stop,each loss felt like he was close to a breakthrough like the next ticket would change everything when betting stopped working he moved to online schemes one week it was crypto,the next week it was a new app that promised daily returns he would borrow small money and invest when it crashed he blamed timing. I was late he said the early people made it there was always a reason never a lesson
his mother watched quietly she sold food by the roadside and had done it for years the same spot, the same routine every morning before sunrise she was there setting up her small stand one day she called him tunde sit downshe said, he sat but his mind was already somewhere else you are always chasing something big she continued,but you don’t stay anywhere long enough to see anything grow tunde smiled like he had heard it before, mama you don’t understand this is not your time things are different now people make money fast she looked at him for a long time fast money is like rain she said It comes and goes, the money that stays comes like a tree slowly.”
tunde stood up i cannot suffer like this all my life he said he left before she could reply
months passed,his clothes changed,not because he was making money but because he was selling what he had, his phone got older his friends started avoiding his calls because he was always asking for something everytime he calls one afternoon he met Musa again, this time Musa looked different,Cleaner, and calmer I got a small job at a mechanic workshop Musa said,
Tunde laughed, You? Mechanic? You want to waste your life there? Musa did not argue
It is not big he said but I am learning and i get paid small every week
Tunde shook his head you will be there for years and still be struggling
Musa smiled. Maybe but at least I know what I am doing that night Tunde could not sleep well, not because of Musa’s words but because of his own situation his pockets were empty even the small bets were no longer possible, the next morning he walked past his mother’s stand he watched her from a distance people came they bought food they greeted her she moved with ease no rush, no noise,Just steady work.
He noticed something he had never paid attention to before every plate she served brought in a small amount not big,not exciting but constant, for the first time he did not see it as suffering he saw it as something else, something lucrative, something unique.
He walked closer mama he called she looked up surprised you came early today he scratched his head I want to help she did not say anything, she just handed him a bowl serve that man she said
Tunde hesitated but he did it,his hands were not used to it, he moved slowly the man waited patiently how much? the man asked Tunde looked at his mother she told him the price the man paid and left.
It was small money very small but Tunde held it like it meant something he stayed there the whole day,it was not easy his back hurt,his legs were tired,there was no excitement, no sudden breakthrough, just work, at the end of the day his mother counted the money and gave him a small part this is your own,she said.
Tunde looked at it, it was less than what he used to spend on one bet but it was different he did not borrow it,he did not guess it, he did not chase it, he earned it.
that night he sat outside alone for once he was not thinking about quick money, he was thinking about something he had avoided for a long time maybe getting rich was not about escaping work maybe it was about choosing the right work and staying long enough to grow with it the thought did not make him happy,it made him quiet the next morning he woke up early again not to chase a new idea but to return to the same spot, this time he did not complain he just started working, then he realized that if he stay longer and wait patiently that he would be richer on a long run, then he understood that there is dignity in labor, the he told himself that there is no shortcut to success but hard work, genuine happiness
