A Nwogbo does not owe

In the years prior, when I never envisioned myself without a steady income, I had a running joke with my friends when I needed them to pay for something on the fly for me, “A Nwogbo does not owe.” I remember this remark now and wonder what that version of Chidinma would think watching my life play out as it has.

For the first time this year, I’m not late or on time for an activity. I’m ready and patiently waiting for my ride. Amy and her friend are coming to get me. I’m ninety percent dressed because wearing a sweater, puffer, and sneakers to stay home is no one’s idea of staying at home. The news says this winter has been especially terrible, and I agree but today, it doesn’t feel as bad as it did the weeks prior. In fact, it's a whopping 7 degrees today. This is the winter I signed up for, not the one where there’s a minus in front of two digits like we’re owing the weather. The minus degree weather reminds me of a time in secondary school when I’d do so poorly, I’d be owing the teacher marks from the future. Today’s weather is close to what Germans refer to as: fake spring where it’s still winter but it’s warm enough to make us believe the winter is finally heading out.

My mini twists are packed into two buns that are smaller than my fist. I lost significant volume post my previous mini twists with extensions, so I have to rock these sparse ones till my volume returns from war. I’m enjoying it, and I look adorable in the Mickey Mouse-inspired style. My phone buzzes in my hand. I slide to the right and Amy’s voice fills my house.
“My babe”

“What’s up?”

“We’re in a serious hold-up here. I’ve never seen this type of thing… and we’re in a tunnel, so the network is so bad. We’re going to be late to pick you.”

“No wam…” I unbutton my jeans and raise my legs to meet the rest of my body on the couch. I open Google Maps to check the traffic and most importantly, calculate how many minutes of comfort I can squeeze in because there’s no comfort where we’re going.

Outside, the sun is trying to counter the usual Berlin grey. Although it’s not working, I appreciate the attempt. I adjust my white round-neck top, and I’m transported to a spontaneous park day in fake summer last year with Amy, her friend, and Emmanuel. I wonder when the next sun will allow us to converge in lesser layers. My phone buzzes again; Amy’s voice informs me that the traffic is not letting up, and I might have to find my own way. Instantly, I’m transported back to winter.

I’m leafing through the book I’m spinning the block with when my phone buzzes again. I assume it’s Amy but when I fish my phone from under the yellow throw, I see a German number that plastered itself in my head in 2024. I know what’s afoot. I debate whether I want to have this conversation because I know how it ends: with me deciding when and how I’d pay my almost €700 debt. Using my thumb, I trace the call slider, letting the other person’s voice into my home. She introduces herself but it's difficult to hear or retain her name over my anxious thoughts.

“I’m from TK,” and I give a stiff smile as though she can see me. “We received your email querying the amount and the dates. Agentur für Arbeit informed us that they stopped supporting you on the 14th, which is why you have to pay us the €696. If there’s a document that says otherwise, please send it and we will do a recalculation.” She pauses for me to speak. My intention in sending that email was equivalent to drawing curtains against the cold - you know it's not going to change anything but you do it anyway. This is unfortunately not my first rodeo with TK and unemployment, but I had to manufacture some friction lest they think I’m excited to surrender the funds. There’s no document, but I told her I’d check.

In the email she’s referencing, I made mention of my disappointment in their system as I went to the dentist and was asked to pay out of pocket. “For the teeth cleaning, I’ll check with the hospital. We can reimburse some part of the cost,” she addressed. I know she’s not at fault. It’s a wonky system that’s mightier than me and her. Pushing that knowledge aside, I fired shots at the messenger. “The facility I visited requires €140 for that service and you’re going to reimburse me only €50 out of it but I’m expected to pay nearly €700 and then €276 every month out of my savings?” I said, losing my newfound cool.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the way it currently is. I understand but there’s nothing I can do about it, either.” I didn’t care if she shared my sentiments and frustrations. I simply refused to see past mine. “You don’t have to pay it all at once. I can send a document to your TK mailbox after this call and you can fill it to specify how you want to pay it.” Gracious of her and TK only that I don’t want to spend money I put away for feeding and housing on subpar health insurance. “In the mail, you said you have a new job contract. When is the first day?” “First March” I answered, a small relief washing over me that I don’t have to have to deal with these anymore.

Being a debtor is such a downer. Having emails and calls rupture your day to remind you is such a spoil spot is unfortunately not the worst of it. I remember listening to advice a while back where the finance professional told people to tell organisations to stop calling them to remind them they’re owing or they could sue. I wondered why that was a route to take but being on the receiving end of these calls, I agree. I’m owing does not mean you should spoil my day with my reality.