The Echo in His Wallet: Why Emeka Keeps Giving What He Doesn't Have

Emeka looked at the last ₦5000 in his bank account. It was supposed to cover his transport for the next week and maybe a few bowls of garri. But his thumb was already hovering over the "Pay Now" button on the online fashion store.

It was her birthday in three days. Nike. The girl with a laugh that could chase away the Lagos traffic noise and eyes that held the promise of a future he desperately wanted to be a part of. She’d casually mentioned wanting a specific designer handbag, one that cost more than his monthly rent.

Emeka worked two jobs—a grueling shift at a local supermarket stacking shelves, and late nights driving for a ride-hailing app. His worn-out shoes had holes in them, his phone screen was cracked, and his stomach often rumbled with a hunger he ignored. But the thought of Nike’s smile, that fleeting spark of appreciation, felt like a fuel stronger than food.

The Sacrifice and the Sparkle

He clicked "Pay Now." The transaction went through, leaving his account balance in a precarious state. He’d figure it out. He always did. He’d walk more, skip a few more meals. It was worth it for her.

He remembered the last gift, a pair of expensive earrings. Her reaction had been a fleeting, "Oh, thank you, Emeka! You always spoil me." She wore them once, to a friend's party, and then they disappeared into the depths of her jewelry box, replaced by cheaper, trendier pieces.

His friends, especially Tunde, often worried. "Emeka, you’re eating one meal a day to buy her things she barely uses," Tunde had said, shaking his head. "She's not even your girlfriend."

"She’s worth it," Emeka would always reply, his voice firm despite the gnawing doubt. He believed that if he kept showing her how much he valued her, how much he was willing to sacrifice, eventually she would see him differently. Eventually, his devotion would translate into the love he craved.

The Illusion of Affection

On her birthday, Nike was delighted with the handbag. "Emeka, you really outdid yourself!" she exclaimed, posing with it for a quick photo for her social media. She gave him a brief, airy hug. "You’re the sweetest."

He watched her, the new bag slung casually over her shoulder as she laughed with her other friends, already distracted by the next conversation. He felt a familiar hollowness in his chest. The initial burst of joy he’d hoped for had dissipated almost instantly, replaced by the bitter taste of reality.

As the party wound down, Emeka offered to help clean up. He saw the bag tossed onto a chair, forgotten amidst discarded wrapping paper. It was just another item in her collection, easily acquired, easily set aside.

The Unseen Cost

He walked home that night, the long trek a stark reminder of his depleted wallet. The holes in his shoes felt larger, the hunger pangs sharper. He thought about the hours he'd spent at work, the aching muscles, the denied cravings—all for a fleeting smile and a "thank you" that felt more like a polite dismissal.

Emeka knew, deep down, that he wasn’t buying her affection. He was buying moments of illusion, where for a brief second, he could pretend he was the man who could give her everything. But the truth was, he was giving her everything he didn't have, leaving himself with nothing but the echo of an empty wallet and a hollow heart.

The next day, he started another shift, his body heavy, his mind reeling. He needed to figure out how to feed himself. The thought of Nike, and her new handbag, felt distant, almost foreign. The price of her momentary joy had been his own enduring struggle.