See, lemme tell you, if they had told me that I would be running on Ogunlana Drive, in my inner vest, ticket in hand, crying tears of regret because of Chelsea, I would never have believed it.
But there I was.
Sweating. Panting. Looking like a man being chased by destiny itself.
And all because of one football match.
It all started the night before at Chinedu’s place. The Premier League had started, predictions were flying everywhere, and everybody suddenly had the confidence of a professional football analyst.
“Chelsea cannot lose this match,” Kunle said, staring at the television.
Chinedu laughed. “Add them to your ticket na. Free money.”
That was how the problem started.
One ticket became two. Two became four. Before long, we were shouting predictions, calculating odds and spending money we had not won yet.
“Once this enters, December is sorted,” I said confidently.
And I meant it.
That money was practically my plan for December. I had been saving to see Ijeoma, and maybe take a little trip with her. She had reminded me more than once.
“You know you promised we would see each other this year, right?”
Of course, I remembered.
If I had failed to see Ijeoma as promised, I doubted our relationship would survive yet another “baby, something came up.”
So, that ticket had become important.
Very important.
The match started, and our sitting room became a stadium.
“Pass the ball!”
“Shoot!”
“Referee, are you blind?”
Every few minutes, someone jumped up. At one point, my phone started ringing.
🎶 You can be my heaven, baby… 🎶
Everybody turned.
I looked at the screen.
Ijeoma.
I ignored it.
“Focus!” Kunle shouted. “This match can change your life!”
And somehow, he was right.
Just not in the way we expected.
Chelsea scored first.
Morgan Rogers, Chelsea’s new signing, put them ahead barely two minutes into the match, and the whole sitting room erupted.
“See! I told you!” Kunle shouted.
I leaned back with a smile.
“December is sorted.”
Or so I thought.
Arsenal equalised through Kai Havertz before half-time, and less than 30 minutes later, Chelsea conceded another goal through Arsenal’s captain, Martin Ødegaard.
The match ended.
Then, I stared at my phone.
Then at the television.
And back at my phone.
“No.”
The ticket was gone.
My December money was gone.
So, I stood up slowly.
“Guy, calm down,” Chinedu said.
“You people don’t understand. That was not ordinary betting money.”
“What was it?”
“My December money!”
Silence.
Then Kunle started laughing.
Okay, I did not find it funny.
Because apart from Ijeoma and my plans for December, there was another problem waiting for me.
Iya Aruba.
Because I owed Iya Aruba money.
And not the kind of money you borrowed and conveniently forgot.
I had been owing her for weeks.
And every time she asked, I had a new promise.
“Next week, Iya, I will pay.”
“Once my money enters, Iya, I will send it.”
“Okay, this week, Iya. I swear.”
And now, this was the same week I had promised her.
The same week I had confidently assured her that she would not need to remind me again.
And guess where I had put the money I planned to use?
Exactly.
On Chelsea.
My phone buzzed. It was Iya Aruba’s text.
Good morning. Hope you remember what you said about this week?
I dropped the phone.
Another message came in.
Ijeoma: So, are we still seeing each other in December?
I closed my eyes.
At that moment, my entire life was looking like one badly calculated accumulator.
That was when I started thinking differently.
Why was I leaving my plans until the last minute? Why was I waiting to have every naira ready before making a move?
“No,” I said to myself. “I cannot afford another surprise.”
At least, with Konga Travels & Tours, I could start planning ahead and explore their convenient, flexible payment options, including securing my flight with a 20% down payment under the applicable plan.
That sounded far better than putting my December plans in the hands of another “sure odds” prediction.
So, I picked up my phone and started planning.
For once, December was not going to depend on football.
Then suddenly…
KNOCK. KNOCK. & KNOCK.
I froze.
Another knock.
“Who is it?”
Silence.
“Who is it?” I asked again.
Then the voice came from outside.
“Na me. Iya Aruba.”
And just like that, I remembered that planning ahead was always a good idea.
The End.
