By B Drammeh
I was introduced to betting by my friend in 2021. My first deposit turned out to be a win. It was 2300 dalasi, and I withdrew it manually at their branch in Brikama. That first win pushed me headlong into betting.
It was game day again. I deposited 1000 dalasi and selected my odds. To me, it was a very winnable bet. I stayed online because I didn’t want to miss how I would deal with the “Narr.” Before the games finally ended, I went to the restroom and left my phone screen timeout on for five minutes.
It was just seconds away from rejoicing over my win. When I returned, I saw a big chance, no goal yet, but an indication that a goal had been scored. My heart started melting like ice placed under 42 degrees Celsius. I tried to calm myself and relaxed as if nothing had happened, but my conscience was stuck.
“Nying Naaro Baselding,”. I said to myself. I insulted in my native language. That statement was followed by “astagfrillah”. A friend pat me then i was quite like a dog which is trying to escape for from a jungle. I decided not to play bet again.
It was time to meet friends at the ghetto. This time, I headed there wearing shoes of different colors and sizes without realizing it. When I arrived, everyone was laughing, some even rolling on the ground. I was shocked and didn’t understand what the laughter was about. One of them pointed at my feet. I looked down and saw the unexpected.
My cousin at the ghetto asked me what had happened before I left home. I replied that it was just a mistake, that every human being can make.
As we continued our chit-chat, someone smartly brought up betting. “I won 10,000 dalasi today by betting only 100 dalasi,” he said.
I looked at him with annoying eyes but said nothing.
I didn’t inform anyone about my loss. Instead, I decided to bet again. I won for three consecutive days with an amazing amount of money. With my loose lips, I told them about my success with Bwinners. They started celebrating me. Every day became a party at the ghetto. This was followed by a title: best master. My life changed as if it was going to be permanent.
I started inviting girls from left, right, and center of the community. They trusted and believed in me because I had what they thought was a great treasure (Bwinners).
After some time, failure chose me. My betting skills were no more. Even with the lowest odds, I couldn’t manage to win. I was milked dry by girls and some fake friends. They couldn’t even stop to say hi to me anymore. That was the darkest moment of my life.
My life savings were emptied, and struggle became inevitable.
I started targeting end-of-month salaries. Whenever salaries came in, a portion was always shared for betting. The problem of losing persisted. Money meant to be used wisely was always used to sponsor the “Narr.” Money meant for my family was always cut to feed the “Narr.” I said this to myself.
I finally deleted every app that made betting possible for me, including Chrome.
My mind and account are now healthier than before.
Stop betting, brothers and sisters. Whenever you lose, it hurts. The dream of chasing money blindly can lead you into extreme poverty.
By Bubacarr Drammeh