![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmcNMjhbER2vcdjP4saNisND9jqeFN9PViyeHPAWvPFq8L/1752079171104.jpg)

The sun gently leaned toward its nest, casting long shadows across the compound through my window and into my room. I sat on my couch, legs crossed, the couch pillow on my legs, and a plate of noodles placed on the pillow. It's steam dancing across my face. My fan hummed lazily above, just the way I chewed on the noodles, blowing more heat than breeze

My salary was late. My pocket was empty. In fact, between my pocket and my fridge, I didn't know which was emptier than the other. My bills were piling up waiting to be paid. My mood was messed up, and my head banged every day.

Suddenly my phone buzzed. I glanced at it nonchalantly. But my eyes caught more than I expected. An alert from my bank

_₦180,000 credited to your account._

I blinked. My spoon dropped into the bowl. Maybe I was seeing right. I grabbed my phone and tapped its screen to be sure. Rereading it.

The name said Tajudeen M. No memo. No context. Just money. And a lot of it. I let my mind float. My eyes squinted. I was sure I wasn't expecting money from anyone.

My chest started drumming. I threw the phone a few distance away from me. I'll get back to it later. I needed to relax and think.

But just as my hands caught my spoon again, another buzz came in. This time, it was an incoming call from an unknown number.

I let it ring. Again. And again.

By the third ring, I picked up but said nothing. Just listening to hear who it was at the other end.

“Hello," a deep voice said.

"Hello," I replied,

"Please. Please, I’m sorry. I just sent ₦180,000 to your account just now. It was supposed to go to my supplier, but I made a mistake with the number. Please, I’m begging you, send it back. That money is my everything.”

I swallowed hard without saying a thing. At the same time trying to think. I've heard stories like this before but never experienced it.

Some said it's a new trick scammers use to scam unsuspecting individuals. Although I doubted how possible it was. But I still need to be sure.

“Please. Please!" The voice kept pleading.

I sat there frozen. My noodles were getting cold. My mind was running hot. I hung up

Then I stood up and paced my room. I checked my phone again, and the text looked legit. Then sat again. A hundred and eighty thousand naira wasn’t small change. It could clear my light bill, fix my spoiled blender, and still buy me gas. Besides, I've been feeding on noodles for a week straight.

Still clutching my phone, I peeped through the window and luckily for me Mama Chinedu was sweeping in front of her house, wrapper tied high, lips moving in silent songs. Exactly the woman I wanted to see

I dropped my plate of noodles and stepped out quietly.

“Ma'am,” I called.

Mama Chinedu immediately looked up like she was expecting me. “Zerah. I thought you were sleeping?” Her breath was coming in short.

“I want to show you something.”

She threw her hands on her waist. Her chest was growing and falling fast. “Okay.”

I pulled out my phone and showed her the alert. Then I proceeded to tell her everything, from the time the alert came in to the call and my confusion.

Mama Chinedu listened without blinking. Then she dropped her broom and leaned on the wall. “Is your account linked to your email?" She asked.

I nodded repeatedly.

Then check for an alert there.

I quickly scrolled through my phone. "Yes."

"It isn't a scam." She sat down on a pavement nearby and wiped her face with the tail of her wrapper.

"But...."

"No Zerah. Return it."

"You didn't even let me finish." I squeezed my face.

"You're broke. Salary hasn't been paid. I know that temptation. I've been there." She smiled.

I smiled.

"One time before I got married, I found twenty-five thousand naira inside an old envelope in Balogun market. I was a poor lady then who didn't even know her left from her right. But I told the lady in the shop I found the envelope. She realized it belonged to one of her customers. She called the woman, and before I returned. Turns out it was an old widow who came to buy foodstuffs for her children to eat. She nearly killed herself with tears.”

I looked at her without saying a word.

“Lagos will tempt you, but if your heart still has goodness, protect it because that’s what truly matters. Integrity is a treasure.”

I nodded. Although I needed money at that point, it wasn't mine. The voice on the phone was already in tears. Spending it would mean spending another man's sweat and I couldn't live with that or my conscience judging me later.

I called the number and requested an account to return the money. Then I sent it back. No drama. No reward. Just a quiet thank you text. And a clear conscience on my end.

The next morning, I woke up to a knock on my door.

I sluggishly walked to the door and opened it. It was my landlord, holding a white envelope in one hand and a chewing stick in the other. He reeked of early morning beard shave oil.

“Zerah, sorry I woke you up." He apologized.

Rubbing my eyes. "It's fine sir. Good morning."

"Morning my daughter. Have they told you that NEPA overcharged all of us for over two months now?"

I shook my head.

"Okay. They overcharged us and I've gone to their office to rectify it. They finally corrected it. Everybody gets a fifteen thousand naira refund. Here's yours.”

Surprisingly I became aware of my surroundings. I stared at the envelope stunned.

"Take na. Or don't you need it? Should I go with it?" He pretended to turn.

I quickly grabbed it from him. "Thank you, sir."

"Other landlords would have spent it. But it's not my money, so I decided to return it."

"Thank you, sir." I shut my door.

I got to my sitting room and sat on my couch, staring at the envelope. Then, slowly but brightly, my lips curved into a smile.

Although it wasn't much. It was enough to feed me through the weekend. That meant no more noodles for the day. I threw myself on the couch and smiled.

Lagos might be mad, but it still has a heart.

\[Source\]([https://pixabay.com/photos/wallet-coi](https://pixabay.com/photos/wallet-coi "https://pixabay.com/photos/wallet-coi")