I was still in school when I received ₦300,000.
That money wasn’t just money.
It was my school fees.
My accommodation.
My feeding.
My survival for the semester.
School fees then was just ₦51,050.
The moment the alert entered, something dangerous entered my mind too.
“2 odds can turn this to ₦600k…
3 odds? ₦900k.”
Just like that, my brain stopped thinking like a student… and started thinking like a millionaire.
Instead of paying my fees, I opened my betting app.
I actually said a prayer.
“God, you can’t fail your son. You won’t let me suffer.”
Clown behavior. 🤡
I deposited the entire ₦300,000.
All of it.
For two days, I became a professional analyst. I studied fixtures like my life depended on it — because it actually did. I even bought a notebook. Stats. Form. Head-to-head. Weather. Everything.
By Saturday, I was convinced.
Three “safe” games.
1.15 odds each.
Well calculated.
Minimal risk.
Or so I thought.
First game: Under 6.5 goals.
First half ended 2–2.
My heart left my body.
I was sweating like they were sharing free money outside. I couldn’t sit. Couldn’t breathe. Every attack felt like a bullet.
Second half…
Final whistle: 3–2.
I survived.
I told myself, “You see? Genius.”
Second game: Over 1.5 goals.
Small 1.10 odds. Almost guaranteed.
85 minutes.
0–0.
I started pacing. Refreshing live score every 5 seconds. Begging. Whispering. Promising God things I couldn’t even fulfill.
One goal.
Just one.
90 minutes.
0–0.
Finished.
Just like that… ₦300,000 vanished.
No school fees.
No accommodation.
No upkeep.
Silence.
That day I understood something .
the system doesn’t care about your prayers, your calculations, or your desperation.
I was depressed for months.
And till today, I tell anyone who cares to listen:
Avoid betting.
You don’t beat the system.
The system beats you.
