He Was My Friend… Until ₦5M Went Missing

It started like most personal finance journeys: with a YouTube video and a notepad full of dreams.

I was 27, tired of living paycheck to paycheck, and convinced I was destined for more than just rent, bills, and hoping for salary increments. I wanted financial independence. I wanted passive income. I wanted peace.

I started small. I built my emergency fund — three months’ worth of expenses tucked away in a high-yield savings account. Then came index funds, ETFs, and some dividend stocks. I devoured every personal finance book I could get my hands on, from The Intelligent Investor to Rich Dad Poor Dad. Slowly, I began to understand the magic of compound interest.

Within two years, my investment portfolio had grown to ₦25 million (about $30,000 back then). Nothing flashy, but for someone who came from nothing, it felt like everything. I had diversified assets — real estate syndicates, peer-to-peer lending, and even a small slice of crypto during the 2021 bull run.

People started calling me the “finance guy.” I launched a personal finance blog. I gave seminars. I even started helping others plan their own journeys — budgeting, saving, investing. And then came Victor.

Victor was my closest friend. We went to university together. Shared noodles during tough semesters. He was more than a friend — he was family. When he told me he wanted to leave his banking job and start a fintech platform focused on financial literacy for Nigerian youth, I believed in him.

He needed a co-founder. He needed capital. And he needed trust.

I gave him all three.

I pulled ₦10 million from my portfolio and wired it into the company account. I told myself I was diversifying. Startup investing, after all, was a high-risk, high-reward play. And this one felt personal. Besides, he promised transparency, equity, and monthly reports.

The first few months were golden. We got featured in local finance blogs, partnered with influencers in the financial education space, and even got shortlisted for a seed funding accelerator in Cape Town. My traffic tripled. I wrote posts on “Why Investing in Your Friend’s Startup Might Be Smarter Than Crypto.” People listened.

But then, Victor changed.

The monthly updates became quarterly excuses. I noticed budget inconsistencies. Office rent in Lekki suddenly spiked. Staff turnover got weird. Then someone DM’d me anonymously: “Check your partner’s Instagram stories. You’ll understand.”

I did.

There he was — Victor. Pop champagne. Dubai hotel views. Designer shoes. Tagging people I didn’t know. Living a life far beyond our startup’s earnings. A luxury lifestyle, built with my investment.

I froze. I wanted to believe there was a logical explanation. I confronted him.

His reply? “Bro, relax. It’s just optics. You know how this tech game is. Perception sells.”

But perception didn’t pay our staff.

Perception didn’t refund my investment.

And perception didn’t stop the lawsuit that followed.

I found out he’d siphoned funds into shell companies, using startup money to sponsor personal trips, fake users, and influencer campaigns that never ran. When I filed a police report, he disappeared. The company folded within weeks. My name was still on the documents. Creditors started calling. I lost ₦10 million — plus reputation.

I felt like a fraud. How could the finance guy get scammed?

But here’s the twist — the downfall became my reawakening.

I rebuilt.

I restructured my investment strategy, leaning more into automated investing and portfolio rebalancing. I created a rule: never invest more than 10% of your net worth into non-liquid assets. I now do rigorous due diligence before backing anyone — friend or not.

That scandal became one of my highest-performing blog posts. I titled it “I Got Scammed Out of ₦10M By My Best Friend — Here’s What I Learned About Investing.” It went viral. I was invited on podcasts. My YouTube channel doubled in subscribers. Turns out, financial mistakes sell — especially when they’re honest.

Today, my portfolio sits at ₦45 million and climbing. I’m still focused on building wealth, retiring early, and teaching smart money habits. But now, I teach people the part most gurus skip: how to lose money… and come back stronger.

Because sometimes, the best lessons in personal finance don’t come from gains.

They come from the losses you survive.