Budgets, ETFs, Emergency Funds… And Why Insurance Saved My Sanity
Three months ago, I had what I now call “the most financially traumatic Tuesday of my adult life.”
And funny enough, it started like a normal Lagos morning — heat, traffic, and me trying to plan my monthly budget, emergency fund, and ETFs while dodging danfos like a Marvel character.
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I was waiting outside a small café in Yaba, trying to calculate how much I spent in the last week (which was too much, by the way). One minute I’m typing numbers into my personal finance tracker, next thing I know—
“Guy, abeg help me hold this bag. I go explain inside.”
That’s what the man said.
Suspicious? Absolutely.
But I held the bag.
He rushed inside the café, looking stressed, like someone whose bank app just showed him a balance he wasn’t expecting.
I sat, holding this heavy backpack that felt like it contained bricks—or a struggling economy.
He came back out five minutes later, sweating like someone who just lost money in crypto.
He sat in front of me and said:
“Bro… I’m finished.”
I sighed. “Are you talking emotionally, spiritually, or financially?”
“Financially,” he whispered like it hurt to admit it. “My landlord increased rent. Food prices have doubled. And I don’t know how to save, invest, or anything. I’m just working like a donkey with nothing to show.”
He looked like he was about to cry.
And me? I was about to tell him the truth — the truth I learned the VERY hard way.
So I said:
“Guy, let me tell you what happened to me LAST WEEK.”
His eyes widened.
I leaned forward like I was narrating a Netflix thriller.
“Last week, I decided to take my personal finance serious. I created a new budget, set up automatic transfers for my emergency fund, and even bought my first S&P 500 ETF. I felt like a responsible adult.”
He nodded.
“But later that evening, I got a call from my younger cousin shouting,
‘Please come! Come now! Everything don burst!’”
I grabbed my keys, jumped into a ride, and rushed to their house.
When I arrived, the gate was open, and I could smell smoke.
I ran in shouting, “Who died?!”
My cousin waved me over. “Nobody died! But we almost lost everything! Generator wire sparked and the whole kitchen caught fire!”
My heart dropped.
I asked, “Where’s Aunty?”
“She’s outside crying. She said we don’t have insurance.”
Insurance.
That was the moment my chest pained me.
I realized something very important:
I had savings.
I had stocks.
I had ETFs.
But I had ZERO protection.
One emergency and my whole financial plan would shatter like cheap glass.
Just then, the fire service arrived and did their job… but the smell, the fear, the shouting… it humbled me.
My aunty grabbed me tightly and said:
“Please, teach me how to manage money. I can’t live like this again.”
And right there, I opened my phone and began explaining budgeting, saving, investing, and the importance of risk management.
I finished the story, and the man across from me was nodding slowly.
“Guy,” he said, “so all those people shouting ‘Buy ETF! Buy crypto! Buy stocks!’… they forget to shout ‘Pay insurance!’”
I laughed. “Exactly.”
He sighed deeply. “So what do I do now?”
“Simple,” I said.
I stretched out my hand and started listing with my fingers:
- “Create a zero-based budget.
- Build a starter emergency fund.
- Start investing small—ETFs are great.
- Stop impulse buying.
- And most important… get insurance. Even if it’s basic.”
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then he pushed his backpack toward me slowly.
“Open it.”
I blinked. “Why?”
“Just open it.”
Inside…
…was money.
Like.
A lot of money.
Bundles.
He whispered, “Na all my life savings be this. I withdraw am because I dey panic. I no even know wetin to do again.”
My mouth OPENED.
“Why are you carrying your whole net worth around Lagos??”
He shrugged helplessly. “I thought the bank would swallow it. Or the economy would swallow it. Or spirits.”
I sat back, completely speechless.
This man was literally walking around Lagos with more cash than some POS shops.
Then he said something I will never forget:
“I want you to help me fix my finances. Just like you fixed yours.”
I looked at him…
Looked at the cash…
Looked at him again…
“Bro, let’s first enter inside and deposit this money before LASTMA mistake you for a money ritualist.”
He burst into laughter for the first time that morning.
We went back inside the café to plan his finances.
But as we sat down…
Police entered.
Three of them.
Guns.
“Everybody remain where you are!”
My heart almost fell out of my chest.
One officer pointed at the man.
“You! Yes you! We’ve been tracking you!”
I froze.
“Tracking him for what?” I asked, voice shaking.
The officer said:
“He forgot his ATM card in the machine yesterday. Someone reported it. We came to return it.”
…
I swear my soul left my body and came back.
The officer handed him the card and walked out casually.
The whole café was silent.
Then me and the man looked at each other…
And burst into the loudest laughter ever.
“Bro,” I said while wiping my eyes, “Your financial life is too dramatic.”
He replied:
“Today is the day I start again. No fear. No panic. No nonsense.”
We shook hands.
And just like that,
two strangers became accountability partners on the road to financial literacy, wealth building, budgeting, savings, ETFs, investing, emergency funds, and long-term financial freedom.
