Refund Wahala Turned My Enemy / Chapter 1: Mama Ajoke and the Refund Madness
Refund Wahala Turned My Enemy

Refund Wahala Turned My Enemy

Author: Steven Garcia


Chapter 1: Mama Ajoke and the Refund Madness

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My phone dey vibrate every day with order alert, but Naija wahala no dey ever finish. Recently, one customer ID just dey order plenty expensive strawberry seedlings from my online shop.

Omo, for this Naija e-commerce hustle, I don see all sorts—customer wey go price tire, some go still dey drag delivery man like say na their house dem born am. Some go dey call dispatch rider ten times, dey shout "Where you dey?" like say dem dey do NIN registration. But this one na new level.

But once she receive the goods, na so she go rush request for refund—she no even return anything.

The speed wey she dey rush file refund dey surprise me. As the package land for her hand, she no dey even open am finish before refund dey enter. I begin dey wonder whether na juju she dey use or na her own way of running things.

When I ask her for evidence say the seedlings bad, she go just send me picture of her empty hand.

As I see the picture, I just hold my head, mouth open—if no be say my mama dey pray for me, I for don curse. Empty palm, no single leaf, nothing. She go snap am well, fingers stretch like say she dey show me say 'see, nothing dey here.' I fit almost hear her voice inside the photo. You dey see anything for my hand? Abeg shift.

"I don plant all of them, dem die finish. Nothing remain—how you want make I snap am?"

The way she dey reply sef, I just dey imagine her face, eyes roll, mouth bend, dey talk like say na me dey disturb her peace for nothing. That her confidence get as e be.

I tell her make she send back the seedlings, but she refuse again.

You go think say maybe she go change mouth, but no, she stand gidigba. Her stubbornness no be here. If wahala dey get face, e for resemble her.

"I don plant everything, nothing dey to return. Na sand you wan collect?"

Omo, see boldness. Even sand she dey use catch cruise. I just dey look my chat screen, dey shake head like person wey don chop breakfast for traffic.

Last last, I ask her: If my seedlings bad like that, why you dey buy tens of thousands of naira own every time?

As I drop that question, my heart dey beat small small. I just wan see if she go reason am. But wetin I get? Na pure pepper.

She just hiss—kpai!—the kind wey scatter market. The kind hiss wey go make fowl run for gutter. If to say hiss get color, her own for red like pepper.

"Wetin I buy, how much I buy, whether I buy or not—na my own wahala. If e dey pain you, close your shop."

She talk am like person wey no get single fear, as if na her papa build the platform. Her voice loud, sharp, carry weight. I just dey there dey swallow dry spit.

As I see say talking no go work, I check her shipping address from the backend.

That night, I begin dey plan how I go reach her village…

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