@OloriebiBet Once upon a time i woke up around 5 in the morning touched everywhere beside my head where I kept it, i scrambled up, woke my brother and told him our phones are gone, turns out true. anoda time had to check the window net, checked the door it was my bro who moved it for safety๐
On a Monday morning in March 2023, Amara Nwosu woke up to discover she had bought a house.
She had not bought a house.
She had never signed any document.
She had never met the seller.
But somewhere in the Lagos land registry, her BVN, her NIN, her signature โ perfect, precise, indistinguishable from the one she had used her entire adult life โ had authorised the purchase of a property worth โฆ47 million.
And the loan taken to buy it was in her name.
Amara was 34.
A data analyst at a telecoms firm in Victoria Island.
She was the kind of person who used different passwords for different accounts, who read privacy policies, who had set up two-factor authentication on everything she owned before most Nigerians knew what two-factor authentication meant.
She was, professionally and personally, a woman who understood how data worked.
Which is why, when she saw the loan alert on her phone at 6:47am, her blood went cold in a specific way.
Not panic.
Recognition.
Someone had been inside her life.