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Writer's pictureSAMUEL CHIBUNNA

Whisper: I Lied To Everyone About My Job

*As told to Kally from someone who wishes to be anonymous

I have a confession to make. I am so guilty about this. I don’t exactly work for a living. I mean, I have enough to spend, but I’m not employed. My money comes from a trust fund that my mother left me years ago before she passed away, and I didn’t get to know about it until I was 21 years old when her lawyer contacted me.

I’m adopted when I was eight years old. My actual mother tried to reach out to me when I was in my teens, but I never wanted to make that connection. My adopted family are nice honest working folks, but I have never felt we were close. Sure, I love them as my family, but I wouldn’t go to them if I ever am in trouble.

I graduated from high school, but I didn’t want to further my studies. I was never the academic kind. I started working as a salesgirl at a local department store. Hours are long, but the money is okay. Of course, I quit the job once I knew I had a trust fund. Not precisely in millions, but the amount is quite substantial.

According to the lawyer, if I continue to make smart investments with the money, I can probably not work at all for the rest of my life. And I like very much to stay that way, so I started learning about long-term investments, reading everything I could, attending all the financial workshops and avoided risky, short-term portfolios that promise high returns. No way that I will gamble all that money away. I’m going to stretch this dream as long as possible.

Now, you may be wondering what the lie is and why am I lying. Well, I did quit my job, but I couldn’t explain why suddenly I had so much to spend, so I lied that I was hired as a personal assistant for a prominent businessman. I couldn’t really explain why I didn’t want anyone to know I had a trust fund. I guess I didn’t want everyone to start treating me differently. I didn’t just lie to my family. I lied to all my friends, including my boyfriend.

My adopted family would probably start expecting me to give them a share or at least buy them something nice like a car or pay off their house mortgage. My friends will probably avoid me as most of them are uncomfortable hanging out with wealthy people. We used to make fun of them and call them self-entitled money pooping snobs, or at least I used to until I became one. My boyfriend? As much as I really love him and probably will end up marrying him, he will blow all my money away on some silly gadget stuff to show off to his buddies.

As ungrateful as I may sound, I really want to keep the money all to myself. I don’t mind stepping up if someone needs cash for a medical emergency—just no fancy stuff on my account.

Heck, I didn’t even buy myself a new car even though my beat-up car is a safety risk to both me and others on the road. All I did was buy some nice clothes that I lied that I had a clothing expense account from the company because I needed to look good when I was out with “the boss”.

The most foolish thing I did with my newfound fortune was splurging on a 10k vacation to Bali. I had never flown before, and I wanted to experience travelling to an exotic country. So I told everyone that I was needed for business travel with my boss for two weeks and flew off to spend it in Indonesia. The vacation was so good. I had a villa all to myself. For once, I didn’t need to pretend to anyone. I dined at expensive restaurants, splurged on spa treatments, and went shopping every day without needing to explain where my money came from.

However, the most sensible thing I did was purchase a house in one of the prestigious districts, all paid in full, so I won’t get any bank letters reminding me to pay my mortgage. I’ve got the trust fund lawyer to arrange all the necessary paperwork and taxes to deliver through his office so that nothing can be traced back to my address. The three-storey house is empty now, unfurnished except for a daybed, a small table and a chair to escape to time to time when reality, or you can call it my double life, gets too much for me. It’s also where I hang out whenever I am “at work”. I planned to rent it out after the pandemic to fund the purchase of another house in another district that I am eyeing.

I don’t have any long term plans for my future. Having money is a strange feeling. I have enough to last me forever, so there’s no pushing factor for me to do something with my life. On the other hand, it’s like I’m waiting for something significant to happen.

Does it make sense? I don’t know, but I’m young, and now I’m rich, so I can do whatever I want.

Can’t get enough of MiddleMe? You can find me sharing my thoughts here as well:  Instagram @kallymiddleme Twitter  (MiddleMe_net) FaceBook (MiddleMe.net) LinkedIn linkedin.com/in/kallytay

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