You’ve heard the saying, “Love is blind.” But what they don’t tell you is that love can also leave you broke and bag-less. Ada sat down with Crackko to share how her prized Chanel bag became seed capital for a startup that never existed. This is her story.


Crackko: Ada, how did this whirlwind romance begin?

Ada: It was one of those stories that could’ve been a rom-com, except it turned into a thriller. I met Tayo at a mutual friend’s housewarming. He was one of those guys who could captivate a room with just his voice. Confident, sharp, and oh-so-funny.

When he introduced himself as a “serial entrepreneur,” I should’ve known better. But he had this way of making you feel like he was just one genius idea away from becoming the next Elon Musk.


Crackko: So, when did the Chanel bag enter the chat?

Ada: We’d been dating for about four months. Things seemed perfect—too perfect. He’d talk about his big plans for a tech startup that would “disrupt the transportation industry in Nigeria.”

Then one night, he tells me, “Babe, I’m so close to securing investors, but I need a little push. You believe in me, right?” I could feel where this was going.

I said, “How much are we talking about here?” And he goes, “Just ₦8m.” My jaw dropped. Just? Who says “just” and ₦8m in the same sentence?


Crackko: And then you thought of the Chanel bag?

Ada: Exactly. That bag wasn’t just an accessory, it was a reward for all my hard work. My dream bag. But Tayo was persuasive. He painted this picture of “us” building a future together. “Imagine the returns,” he said. “We’ll look back on this and laugh.”

I didn’t know the only person laughing would be him.


Crackko: What was the tipping point that made you sell it?

Ada: One night, we were on the phone at 2 a.m. You know the late night calls lovers do. Then all of a sudden, he said, “Babe, if I don’t get this funding, it’s over. My dream is dead.”

At that moment, I thought, What’s a Chanel bag compared to a man’s future? I listed the bag on Instagram the next morning. I even added one of my wigs. I convinced myself it was a sign of love and commitment.


Crackko: And he promised to pay you back?

Ada: Of course! He even drafted this amateur contract on Canva. It said he’d pay me back in “three installments over six months.” Looking back, that document might as well have been toilet paper.


Crackko: Did you ever see the “startup”?

Ada: Oh, I did. Well, sort of. He took me to this co-working space and pointed at some random guys with laptops, saying, “That’s my team.” I asked, “What are they working on?” He said, “The backend algorithms.”

I didn’t know what a backend algorithm was, but it sounded legit. Meanwhile, the “team” looked more interested in FIFA than anything tech-related.


Crackko: When did you realize something was wrong?

Ada: Slowly but surely. First, he started dodging questions about the app’s progress. Then he became harder to reach. One day, I tried calling him, and his number wasn’t connecting. I thought maybe it was network issues.

Then I saw his Insta story. He was in Dubai. Dubai! With some girl who was tagging him and captioning everything “CEO lifestyle.”


Crackko: Wait, what?!

Ada: I wish I was joking. I confronted him when he got back. Do you know what he said? “Ada, this is all part of the hustle. You have to look successful to attract investors.”

That was my breaking point.


Crackko: So, how did it end?

Ada: He ghosted me. Flat out. His number? Gone. Instagram? Deleted. Even his LinkedIn disappeared. I heard he relocated to Ghana to “start fresh.” Meanwhile, I was left with a Chanel-sized hole in my heart and my wardrobe.


Crackko: What’s the lesson here?

Ada: Ladies, listen carefully. If a man starts pitching you a business idea before you’ve even met his family, run. And for the love of all things designer, never, ever sell your bag for anyone.


Crackko: So, what’s next for you?

Ada: I’m working on myself. And saving for a new Chanel bag. This time, it’s strictly mine. No co-founders allowed.


Ada’s story is a masterclass in heartbreak, hope, and the audacity of men. Let this be a reminder: when someone pitches you a dream, make sure you’re not funding their getaway plan. And if anyone tries to sell you “backend algorithms,” just walk away.

Categorized in: