When 32-year-old Ngozi (not her real name) agreed to take in her younger brother, she believed she was doing what any caring sister would do. At the time, he had just finished from the university, had nowhere stable to stay, and needed support while “figuring out his life.”
For two years, she fed him, clothed him, and treated him like her own child. She bought him a small phone, gave him transport money, and even planned to enroll him in a vocational programme.
But the betrayal that followed has left her shaken, embarrassed, and unsure of who to trust again.
According to Ngozi, the trouble began quietly. Her 24-year-old brother, Chima, started getting unusually close to her househelp, Ada, a 19-year-old she employed barely six months ago. They often whispered to each other, giggled in the kitchen, and disappeared at odd hours. Whenever she asked, they brushed it off as “play.”
What Ngozi never imagined was how far the “play” would go.
Two weeks ago, she returned home from work to meet the front door wide open. At first she thought it was carelessness, until she walked into her bedroom and saw her wardrobe ransacked. Her first instinct was panic. She rushed to the small metal safe where she kept emergency cash, money she had been saving for months to fix her car and pay school fees for her two children.
The safe was gone. Not just opened, gone.
“I felt my legs shake,” she said. “I screamed their names: Chima! Ada! But the house was silent.”
She checked the guest room. Empty. Their clothes? Gone. Their sandals? Gone. Even the old bag her brother used, missing.
Security footage from the estate gate later showed both teenagers leaving with two backpacks and a Ghana-Must-Go bag at 11:40 a.m. They left calmly, not in a hurry, not looking back.
Ngozi estimates that they took N1,820,000 in cash, her entire savings.
“It’s not even just the money,” she said, struggling to hold back tears. “It’s the betrayal. This is someone I loved. Someone I sacrificed for. I didn’t treat him like a younger brother, I treated him like a first son.”
Neighbors have been sympathetic, but several admitted that they had noticed the growing closeness between Chima and Ada. One neighbor even reported seeing them together at a nearby junction earlier that week, looking “too comfortable for siblings.”
Police have been informed, and while a report has been filed, officers say tracking teenagers without phones or digital traces is difficult.
Meanwhile, Ngozi is dealing with the emotional and financial aftermath.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I feel foolish,” she said. “You help your own blood, and this is how they repay you? Sometimes family will break your heart in ways strangers never can.”
She has since found someone new to help around the house, but admits she now has trust issues. As for her brother, she says she doesn’t know what she will do if he ever comes back.
“I’m still angry,” she said. “But I’m also hurt. And somewhere inside me, I’m praying he realizes what he has done, not for my sake, but for his own future.”
For now, the search continues, and Ngozi hopes her story will serve as a warning to others:
“Love your family,” she said, “but don’t close your eyes while doing it.”
What do you think Ngozi could have done differently?
