Find Your Property

Babatunde had a dream, to open the finest jollof rice restaurant in the bustling heart of the city. When he found a shop for rent on a busy street, he thought his dreams were about to come true. Little did he know, he was about to meet Sankara, the worst landlord ever.

The first sign was subtle. Babatunde signed the lease agreement with Sankara, excitedly handing over the first month's rent and security deposit. But Sankara never returned his copy of the agreement. "Don't worry, Babatunde, it's safe with me," Sankara said with a grin that could rival a crocodile's.

Babatunde soon learned that "safe" in Sankara's world meant "lost forever." He asked for a receipt for his payment, but Sankara gave him a receipt for half the amount he had paid. "Taxes, you know? We have to be smart about these things," Sankara whispered conspiratorially. Babatunde nodded reluctantly, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot.

A few months in, things took a bizarre turn. Babatunde arrived at his restaurant one morning to find the doors locked with a giant padlock. Sankara stood nearby, arms crossed. "Rent is due," he announced.

"But it's not due for another week," Babatunde protested.

Sankara shook his head. "I've decided to change the terms. From now on, rent is due every Monday. Pay up, or your shop stays locked."

Babatunde grudgingly paid, but the padlocking episodes became more frequent. One rainy day, he arrived to find not only the doors locked but also the roof removed. Water poured into the shop, soaking everything. "It’s a little ventilation," Sankara explained, avoiding Babatunde's furious glare.

Maintenance was a joke. The pipes leaked, the electrical wiring sparked, and every complaint Babatunde made was met with a shrug. "You should be grateful you have a roof at all," Sankara would say. "Well, most of the time."

Babatunde’s frustration reached its peak when Sankara decided to increase the rent without any justification. "The market is tough," Sankara said. "Costs are going up."

"For what?" Babatunde demanded. "You haven't fixed a thing since I moved in!"

Sankara just smiled that infuriating smile. "Business is business."

As if things couldn’t get worse, Sankara began harassing Babatunde over the smallest infractions. He accused him of making too much noise, of violating health codes, and even of scaring away customers. Sankara’s intimidation tactics knew no bounds. One day, Babatunde returned to find his windows and doors removed again, this time replaced with a note demanding additional fees for "unauthorized modifications."

Finally, the eviction notice came. Sankara claimed Babatunde had breached the contract by not paying the new, increased rent on time. "You have one week to vacate," the notice read.

Desperate, Babatunde tried to get his security deposit back. Sankara laughed. "Security deposit? Oh, you must mean my new ‘administrative fee’ for all the trouble you’ve caused."

Inadequate security measures meant that Babatunde’s restaurant was broken into twice, but Sankara refused to install proper locks or surveillance. "It's not my responsibility," he said dismissively.

Babatunde reached out to the local tenants' rights organization, but Sankara's lack of transparency made it hard to gather evidence. Plus, Sankara always seemed to be one step ahead, finding ways to dodge any legal accountability.

The final straw came when Sankara made unilateral changes to the lease terms yet again. Babatunde, fed up, decided to leave. On his last day, Sankara appeared, blocking the exit. "Where do you think you're going? You still owe me rent for next month."

"Next month? I’m moving out today!"

Sankara smirked. "According to the new terms, you have to give three months' notice. See you in court if you don't pay."

Exasperated but determined, Babatunde gathered his things and left, vowing to never let another landlord take advantage of him. He took his jollof rice recipes and opened a new restaurant in a different part of town, where the landlord actually knew the meaning of fairness and respect.

Years later, Babatunde’s restaurant flourished, becoming a city favorite. Every so often, he’d hear stories of Sankara’s new tenants, and he’d smile, knowing he’d escaped the clutches of the worst landlord ever.