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Dealing Weed Out Of My Father’s House

I met Yemisi* through a member of one of the many WhatsApp groups I’m in. I had asked for tips to more interesting stories about women for HER and one day, someone asked if I was interested in telling the story of a dealer selling out of her father’s house. You already know what I said in response.


I graduated from the university in 2018. Immediately after, I was posted to Abuja for NYSC. Abuja was slower than I was used to. Within the first few months, I met Tariq* at a neighborhood party and shortly after we started dating.

He was a dealer. He sold weed, pills and crack from his three bedroom apartment. I was in awe of how he ran his business. He had a dispatch rider that picked up and delivered to his clients. He was very particular about the kind of weed he sold. It had to be quality shit only. 

I worked as a teacher in a school for youth service. The authorities there didn’t care whether or not I came to and I wasn’t being paid either so as soon as service was over, I stopped. I found another job as a front desk officer which paid about 60k but I left the company within two months. The salary was not enough to transport me, feed me and buy my necessities. Finding a job that paid me well as an entry level staff was a huge feat. Everything either needed a degree I didn’t have or paid chicken change. So I moved back to my father’s house in Ibadan last July. 

One day, I went to visit my friend, Tosin* who also lived in Ibadan. We went to secondary school together. After we exchanged pleasantries, she locked the door and pulled out a box that turned out to be her stash. As she was packing the weed into small packs for sale, it occurred to me that I could just deal. 

She sold weed, arizona, marley and loud. I asked if I could buy from her as a discount to sell. She agreed and that’s how I started dealing barely two weeks after I moved back. I continued searching for a job though, to please my parents.

I started with happy brownies. I had always liked baking so it was easy. I would cut a whole pan’s brownie into eight parts and sell out within hours. I got more pans to meet with demand. My parents were happy I was doing something in the meantime. I warned them not to eat my products because it was strictly for customers. I am an only child so I didn’t have to think of younger siblings who wouldn’t listen. 

After six months, I decided to sell loud as well. I chose loud because it doesn’t smell, I can preserve it in smaller spaces without drawing attention and also it would be sold to a specific set of people — people who could afford it. The risk of getting caught by the police is higher selling arizona or marley because being accessible to more people also makes you accessible to the police for extortion. It is also more stressful and the gains are not as much. 

When my parents leave for work, I bring out my stash and arrange some packs for sale depending on if there are pending orders or not. When I’m handing it to the dispatch rider, I tuck it in an envelope. The dispatch rider is aware of the content of the envelope so he knows to be extra careful. Tosin introduced him to me. 

I get most of my customers from referrals but I also find them at parties, in WhatsApp groups and sometimes even on the road. Since I started I’ve made over 3 million Naira in less than six months. 

I thought about moving out of my parents house but I didn’t want them to get suspicious. To the best of their knowledge, I sold small brownies to keep from being idle. It’s not supposed to make me enough money to move out of the house in less than a year. So I decided to actively search for another job. 

Within a month, I found one as inventory manager at a technical gadget shop. My parents were happy about it because they didn’t even rate the baking thing. With my dealing business growing and needing to be at the office everyday, I devised a plan. I wake up at 5 am to bake. After which, I package the buds that were sold over the night and add a few others for orders that come in during the day. I put them in a cute, pink box that looks like a makeup box that goes in the backpack I carry to work. During the course of the day, the dispatch guy comes to pick the orders and delivers them to waiting customers. It’s a system that works. 

One day, I came home to find that my mum had eaten the crumbs of the brownies in the pan. She told me herself in a sing-song voice. I just knew she was high. I tried to not let panic show on my face. She said she had a long day and was feeling drowsy. I told her I understand and she could get some rest while I prepared my dad’s dinner. She slept till the next morning. I was grateful that she didn’t connect the drowsiness to eating from my pan.  So I started waking up earlier so I would have time to wash the pans before work. 

I have never been stopped by the police for searching. Possibly because I am femme presenting and living in a city like Ibadan. My friends talk often about how they get stopped by the police in Lagos. I know for a fact that I won’t be moving there. 

I’d like to move out of my parents house to a space of my own, where I could arrange my ingredients on the kitchen shelf or leave food lying around without the fear that someone it’s not intended for would eat it. I need to make more money for that to happen. I intend to expand sales to other states within the next six months. I would like to have a farm but it’s too stressful in this country. It’s easy for someone to snitch me to the police or even government officials. Funny enough, I am very positive that Nigerian government will legalize weed in the near future. It’s a big market and I know how much Nigerians like money. I am actually looking forward to a time in Nigeria when weed will be legal and we can market our products publicly. The competition would be steep and that would be exciting to be a part of because I already enjoy my job as a dealer.



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