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The book below is a most read to prepare you for job interview and get hired.

Synopsis

In this faith-infused romantic drama, Tobi is the angelic choir leader at Grace Tabernacle, but to the music industry, she's "Starry," the ghostwriter behind the year's biggest hits. When the cynical, tattooed producer Jimi discovers her identity, he blackmails her into a collaboration that could make or break both their careers. One night in the studio, Jimi smirks, "Angel by day, hitmaker by night?" Tobi fires back, "Judge if you want, but you need my songs." The holy and the profane collide. Can Tobi find her own voice without losing her faith—or her heart?







Chapter 1

The Velvet Cage



The air in the Bishop’s Maitama mansion wasn’t just still. It felt carefully arranged.



Tobi sat on the edge of a velvet armchair, the heavy, high-necked Ankara dress rubbing against her collarbone. The living room showed off "God’s blessings" with white marble floors, gold-leafed cornices, and the thick, expensive smell of frankincense from the diffusers. Here, silence wasn’t peaceful. It was expected. Every step was softened by Persian rugs, and every conversation felt like it might be recorded for heaven.



A life-sized portrait of her father, Bishop Ezekiel, hung on the wall, watching over her. His eyes seemed to follow her, reminding her she was the "First Daughter of Grace Tabernacle," a role that demanded perfection, modesty, and no sign of real feeling.

"Tobi, the prayer vigil starts at five tomorrow morning," her father’s voice boomed from the hallway, though he didn't enter. He didn't need to. His authority saturated the walls. "Ensure the choir is ready. No distractions."



"Yes, Papa," she whispered to the empty room.

She waited, listening to the distant click of his study door, the steady ticking of the grandfather clock, and the quiet settling of a house worth billions of Naira.

At 11:00 PM, the "Angel of Maitama" disappeared.



Tobi moved quietly, used to sneaking around. She took off the stiff Ankara dress, revealing a black bodysuit underneath. She reached under her bed for a worn leather jacket and boots that had never been to church. She took off her headwrap, letting her braids fall, and wiped away the "natural" lip gloss to show a bold, matte red.



Getting out of the mansion took careful planning. She avoided the night guards, slipped through the side gate where the sensor was taped over, and got into a waiting Bolt car two blocks away.

As the car crossed the bridge toward Wuse II, everything changed. The quiet of Maitama faded, replaced by the bright lights and energy of Abuja at night. When she entered the studio basement, the bass was already shaking her bones. It was a deep, rough beat that made her heart race.



"Starry is in the building!" a producer yelled over the music.

Tobi didn’t smile. She was focused. She stepped into the booth, put on the headphones, and closed her eyes. As soon as the beat started, the girl who said "Yes, Papa" was gone.

She started to freestyle. Her voice was smooth and rich, moving easily with the beat in a way that would have shocked her father’s deacons. She sang about hunger, the streets, and what the Church ignored. She was halfway through a verse about "holy fire" burning the wrong things when the music suddenly stopped.

The silence came all at once, sharp and jarring.



Tobi opened her eyes and blinked in the studio lights. The producers stood still. By the soundboard was a man she didn’t recognise.

He leaned back with his arms crossed, his dreadlocks tied in a loose bun. His linen shirt was unbuttoned halfway, showing a tattoo of a serpent wrapped around a cross. His dark, sharp eyes were locked on her, full of recognition that made her uneasy.



He didn’t look like a fan. He looked like someone who had just found something very interesting.

Slowly, he tapped the screen of his phone and turned it toward her. It was a YouTube clip from that morning’s televised service. There she was—Tobi, in a white lace gown, hands raised to heaven, leading the congregation in 'Agidigba.'



He looked at the phone, then at her, a slow, knowing smirk on his face. He stepped forward, his presence filling the small room.

He leaned against the booth’s glass. His voice was low and rough, and it felt like it hit her straight in the chest.

"Does Daddy know his Little Angel has this much rhythm," Jimi asked, his gaze raking over her leather jacket and red lips, "or am I looking at a ghost?"


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CHAPTER 1: SCARCITY WEY LIVE INSIDE OUR BLOOD

My brother, my sister, imagine this.

It is 3:17 a.m. in your room in Surulere, or Gwarinpa, or that small flat in Kano. The NEPA light don come back after two hours, the fan dey spin slowslow, but sleep no gree enter your eyes. Your phone light dey shine for your face as you scroll through the bank app again. School fees for next term. That cousin wey just call from the village say im wife dey born. The fuel wey jump again last week. The dollar rate wey no dey calm down. You dey calculate in your head like say the numbers go change if you add them one more time.

You no be the only one. Right now, millions of us dey do the same thing across this country. Some dey in Abuja civil service quarters, some dey inside traffic on Third Mainland Bridge, some dey inside their shop in Onitsha market pretending to count stock but actually counting worry.

This book no start with “how to make money fast” or “ten steps to financial freedom”. We go start from the root. Because if you no understand why the fear dey so deep inside your chest, every strategy wey we go talk later go just be like water wey you pour for basket.

Let me tell you something I have seen with my own eyes after eighteen years of sitting with people in Lagos, Abuja, and even some of our people wey return from London or Dubai.

The way we think about money in this country no just happen. Na something we inherit. Na something the country train us to carry.

You remember those days of military rule and the SAP time? Many of our parents and grandparents still dey talk about am like say e happen yesterday. One day you wake up, the naira just lose value overnight. Prices jump. Salary wey suppose feed family for one month no reach two weeks again. People wey dey work hard suddenly turn to beggars. That fear enter their body and never comot.

Now that fear don pass to us. Even if you never see SAP with your eyes, your body remember am. Every time the naira dey fall, every time fuel subsidy comot, every time new notes appear and old ones lose value, something inside you dey shake. Your nervous system don learn say money no dey stable. Money fit disappear. So you dey hold am tight when you get am, or you dey spend am quick before e lose value. Both reactions come from the same place , fear wey Nigeria put inside us.

That one na the first inheritance.

The second one na this constant war we dey fight inside our head. On one side, we get this loud voice wey dey shout “Naija no dey carry last!” We dey hustle like say tomorrow no dey. We dey do three jobs, we dey start side business, we dey grind 24/7. But on the other side, we dey spend like say tomorrow really no dey come. We dey buy that phone on credit because “life short”. We dey go Owambe and spray money because “people go talk”. We dey borrow small small to maintain appearance because “how I go allow my mates pass me?”

This war dey tire person. And the worst part be say both sides , the extreme hustle and the presentbiased spending , na survival skills we learn from this same country. When the economy dey unstable, when policy fit change overnight, when you no trust the system, you go either hold everything or spend everything. There is no middle ground wey the country teach us.

Let me tell you about two people wey I don counsel. Their stories go sound familiar.

First, meet Uncle Chinedu. 38 years old, civil servant in Abuja. Dem just promote am to Grade Level 14. Him office people dey hail am “Oga Chinedu, you don hammer!” But at night, the man dey borrow from the staff cooperative just to settle family contributions. Him wife dey complain, him children school fees dey delay, but every month him dey send money go Anambra because “na my responsibility”. The last time I see am, he tell me, “Scientist, if I no send, my mama go say I don forget where I come from. But if I send, my own family go suffer. Which one I go choose?”

That man no be wicked. He no be bad with money. Na the system wey train am to carry load wey no be only him own.

Then meet Aunty Blessing in Port Harcourt. She get good job now with an oil servicing company. But every time she go market, she still dey measure rice with small small cup like her mama did during the 1980s when SAP scatter everything. She dey buy only what she fit finish that week because “you never know when things go change again”. Even though her salary dey enter steady, the fear wey live inside her hand no gree comot. She tell me one day, “Scientist Ade, I dey fear say if I relax, everything go scatter like before.”

You see am? The scarcity no just dey for the account. E dey inside the body. E dey inside the way we think, the way we spend, the way we fear.

Now, before we go further, I want make you do something small with me. This one na not theory. This one na practical wey fit help you see with your own eyes how this scarcity dey control you.

Naija Hack Number One

Take three old recharge cards , MTN, Glo, Airtel, any one wey you get. Label them with marker: “Chop Money”, “Emergency”, and “Future Self”. Every week, no matter how small, put something inside each one. Even if na ₦500 per envelope. This visual thing dey help your brain understand that money fit have different purposes. Many of my clients wey start this one tell me say after three weeks, the panic wey dey follow them when salary enter don reduce small.

Naija Hack Number Two


Every Sunday evening, before you sleep, spend just five minutes write wetin money do you that week. No need long grammar. Just bullet points:

The fear wey catch me when I see dollar rate

The small win when I pay that debt

The thing wey shock me (maybe family call wey I no expect)

Do am for one month. You go start see pattern. And pattern na the first step to change.


Naija Hack Number Three

For the next thirty days, convert every big expense to dollars inside your head or small notebook. That new shoe wey cost ₦85,000? Convert am. The school fees wey you dey plan? Convert am. You go shock yourself how the naira illusion dey make things look smaller than dem be. This one dey break the spell wey this economy dey cast on us.



My brother, my sister, I no dey tell you all this to make you feel small. I dey tell you because I don see too many people suffer in silence, thinking say the problem na only them. The anxiety wey dey worry you for 3 a.m. no be weakness. Na your body dey remember every time Nigeria break the promise wey e give us.

But here is the good news wey I wan leave you with tonight.

Once you understand the root, the shame go start to reduce. And when shame reduce, the door wey lead to real change go open.

We just start this journey. Next, we go talk about the thing wey dey choke many of us the most , the family pressure wey we call black tax. The blessing and the chain wey dey tie us at the same time.

But before we go there, I wan ask you one honest question.

When last you sit down, really sit down, and ask yourself: “This fear wey I dey carry about money… na my own fear, or na the fear wey Nigeria put inside my blood?”

Think about am.

I go wait for you in the next chapter.







CHAPTER 2: WHEN FAMILY TURN BLESSING AND CHAIN FOR THE SAME TIME

My brother, my sister, let us continue from where we stopped.

Remember that 3 a.m. worry we talked about? The one wey your mind dey calculate school fees, family calls, and dollar rate at the same time? For many of us, that worry no just come from the economy. E get one bigger thing wey dey add fuel to the fire , our own family.

I no go lie to you. Family na blessing in this country. When things scatter, na family go still send garri and small money. When you lose job, na family house you fit run go. But that same family fit turn to chain wey dey drag you down if you no careful. The love wey suppose lift you fit become the thing wey dey choke your neck.

This one na wetin we call black tax. But e no just be about sending money. E dey about the mental load. E dey about the guilt wey follow you everywhere. E dey about the identity wey say “if you don hammer small, you must carry everybody”.

Let me tell you wetin I don see with my own eyes.

Many people wey come to my office, especially the ones wey just get small promotion or better contract, dey carry this heavy thing. Dem dey happy for outside, but inside, dem dey fight war. On one side, dem wan help. On the other side, dem dey fear say if dem help too much, their own children go suffer. If dem no help, dem go hear “you don forget your root”.

That war dey eat person finish.

I remember one young man wey work in tech in Lekki. Him salary dey come, but every month, almost 70 percent dey go village. Him own children dey attend public school because private school money no remain. Him wife dey complain every night. But the man no fit reduce the amount wey him dey send. When I ask am why, he tell me straight: “If I reduce am, my people go say I don become like those wey money spoil their head. My mama go start to dey cry on phone. How I go take that one?”

That man no be bad person. He just dey carry load wey the family put on am, plus the load wey this country put on am from Chapter 1. The scarcity wey live in him blood dey tell am say “if you no hold this money tight, e go finish”. But the family expectation dey tell am say “you must release am”.

The two voices dey fight inside the same head.

Then there is the other side. Some people wey build quiet wealth but no fit enjoy am because of family eyes. I don counsel one trader from Aba. The man don build serious business , multiple shops, even small warehouse. But him siblings still dey think say he dey struggle because he no dey buy big car or build house wey everybody go see. So dem dey still dey call am every week for “small help”. The man dey sleep fine at night because him money dey grow, but the pressure dey follow am like shadow. He tell me one evening, “Scientist, if I show them say I get money, the calls go increase. If I hide am, dem go still dey disturb me. Which one I go choose?”

You see the trap? Whether you dey send or you no dey send, the mental cost dey high.

This black tax no just dey affect the pocket. E dey affect the relationship wey you get with your own money and with your people.

When you dey give because you truly want, e dey bring joy. But when you dey give because dem expect, because if you no give dem go talk, because your identity as “the successful one” dey depend on am, e dey create resentment wey you no fit talk out loud. That resentment dey grow smallsmall until one day you start to dey avoid family calls. Or you start to dey lie about how much you get. Or you start to dey hate the same people wey you suppose love.

I don see husbands and wives dey fight because of this thing. The wife go say “your family dey finish our money”. The husband go say “na my responsibility”. Children go dey suffer in the middle. And nobody dey win.

The worst part be say many of us no even know how to draw line. We think say if we set boundary, we don become bad child or bad sibling. But the truth be say, mature love dey include the ability to disappoint people small so that bigger good go come. If you empty yourself finish, you no go get anything left to give tomorrow.

Now, before we go further, make we do some practical thing wey fit help you start to breathe small.


Naija Hack Number One – Family Contribution Cap

Sit down this week, no matter how small your income be. Decide wetin you go send to family every month. Make am percentage plus fixed amount. Example: 15 percent of your salary plus ₦20,000 fixed. Write am down. Tell yourself say this na your cap. When family call come, you go know wetin you fit do without shaking. This one no dey make you wicked. E dey make you sustainable.



Naija Hack Number Two – Learn These Small Lines

Practice these words until dem enter your mouth. Dem don save many of my clients from guilt and unnecessary borrowing:

“My brother, I go help as I fit, but this month my own children dey hungry too.”

“Mama, this one pass my power right now, but I go find small way wey I fit manage.”

“I don already set wetin I go send this month. If anything change, I go let you know.”

Say am with respect. No need to shout. But say am. The first time e go hard. After some time, your body go learn say boundary no be rejection.



Naija Hack Number Three – Rotating Family Support Calendar

If you be the “successful one” wey everybody dey call, create small calendar. Share am inside family WhatsApp group. Say for this month, you go handle this person or this need. Next month, another person go handle. This one dey reduce the load wey land on only you. And e dey teach the family say support no be one person duty.



Do these three things small small. You no need to change everything in one day. Just start with one.



My brother, my sister, black tax na real thing. E no make you bad person if you dey feel the weight. E no make you selfish if you wan protect your own peace and your own children future. The same way Nigeria put scarcity inside our blood, family expectation dey add extra load on top.



But here is wetin I wan tell you with all my chest.



You fit love your family well well without allowing them destroy the future wey you dey try build. You fit honour your root without becoming ATM wey dem dey withdraw from every month. The guilt wey you dey feel when you try to set boundary? E go reduce with time. Because the truth dey say, the people wey truly love you go still love you even when you no fit send every time.

Remember that civil servant wey we talk about before? The one wey dey borrow to settle family? Three years after him start to use these small boundaries, him own children enter better school. Him wife stop to dey cry every night. And funny enough, him family still dey call am , but the calls no dey come with the same pressure again.

Change no dey happen overnight. But e dey start with small decision wey you take when nobody dey watch.

Now, as we dey here, another thing dey add to this money pressure wey we carry. E no just come from family alone. E dey come from outside , from the way we dey compare ourselves with people on WhatsApp and Instagram. The need to look like we don arrive, even when our account dey cry.

That one na the next thing we go face together.

But for now, I wan leave you with this question.

Which family expectation dey currently dey choke you the most? And wetin go happen if you try to adjust am small, even if na by 10 percent?

Think am well.

I go meet you in the next chapter.






In other not to choke this space, if you would like to read the complete ebook download it from my Signature.