I was at a tech event in Lekki, still very new to the space and genuinely excited about networking. At the time, I believed that being in a room full of professionals meant I could relax. Everyone felt like “my people.” That assumption was my first mistake.

The environment made it easy to drop my guard. I was focused on conversations, introductions, and the hope that one good interaction could lead to a job. Lagos, however, does not pause because you’re ambitious.

I remember spotting a founder I really wanted to speak with. I rehearsed what I would say in my head and started pushing gently through the crowd. My phone was in my pocket. I assumed it was safe there. I was paying attention to the opportunity in front of me, not the space around me.

I eventually got to him. We spoke for about two minutes. It wasn’t long, but it felt important. He listened, nodded, and handed me his card.

As I reached into my pocket to keep the card safe, I felt it immediately. That empty space. The kind that makes your heart drop before your brain fully catches up.

My phone was gone.

No warning. Just a quiet, chilling realization in the middle of a crowded room.

That experience taught me something I’ve never forgotten. In Lagos, context does not guarantee safety. Not the location. Not the event. Not the type of people in the room. You have to shine your eyes, always.

I didn’t leave that event with a phone, but I left with a lesson that has stayed with me longer than any contact saved on that device.