Adulthood? Adulthood is genuinely the biggest scam ever sold. Every time I hear “Adulthood na scam” by Teniola, my body does a spiritual rewind to the days when crying small could earn you biscuits or N50. I lose a tooth and I get paid? What a time to be alive.

Now? I lose my peace of mind, my appetite, and even my charger  and nobody’s sending me alert. Instead, I’m getting “What’s your plan after graduation?” Ma please, I’m still deciding between noodles and garri tonight.

And let’s not even start on the romantic scam they sold us in cartoons and teen movies. Growing up on Cinderella, Barbie Diaries, and rom-coms had me convinced I’d meet the love of my life in a bookstore, he’d buy me flowers for no reason, send “thinking about you” texts, and we’d go on cute picnic dates with matching outfits and playlists.

But now? These boys don’t even say hi. It’s “you dey?” “Slide through” or “pull up.” Pull up to where, sir? Is this a car race? This is not the “love story” I subscribed to. Even the Holy Spirit doesn’t ghost the way these ones do.

Where’s the Prince Charming they promised? Where’s the high school BFF group that takes trips together and falls in love with a matching set of best friend-boyfriend duos? These days you meet someone’s friend group and it’s just vibes, gbas gbos, and secret beef.

Honestly, growing up feels like a prank God forgot to end. I wanted the soft life  with satin robes, forehead kisses, and good credit. But now, I’m just soft in the head, soft in the heart, and soft in the pocket. Love? I still believe. But let’s just say… he better come correct or not come at all.

I miss being a child.

No bills. No pressure. Just vibes, cartoons, and getting money for crying or being cute.

Now I get excited when NEPA behaves or when someone says, “Check your account.” I’m still dreaming big, still romanticizing the little things, but I’m also one stressful email away from packing my bags and becoming a rich housewife in my imagination.