When the transfer letter came, I stared at it for a long time. Promotion? Yes. New responsibility? Exciting. But the location? A quiet, far-flung village I’d never heard of. That part left me speechless.
As the breadwinner in my family, I had responsibilities. Bills to pay, money to send home, things to sort out with just a few taps on my phone. Life in the city had spoiled me with convenience. Everything I needed, banking, shopping, even ordering lunch, was always just one app away.
So, while my colleagues were congratulating me on the step up, my brain was running wild. How will I transfer money to my mum? What if something urgent comes up? Will I be trekking five miles to find an ATM?
Arriving in the village felt like stepping into another world. It was beautiful. Peaceful in a way that city life never quite allows. The air was fresh. The people were warm. Neighbours actually greeted each other by name. For a moment, I let myself enjoy it. But as I unpacked, that knot in my stomach returned. I hadn’t seen a single bank branch. Not even an ATM. My mobile banking app wouldn’t even load. I felt stranded.
Later that evening, while buying fruits from a friendly shopkeeper, I mentioned how I was already missing city banking. He gave me a small laugh; the kind people give you when they know something you clearly don’t. “Don’t stress,” he said, holding up his phone. “Na FirstBank we dey use here.” Then, right in front of me, he dialled *894#. No data. No app. No drama.
In seconds, he transferred money to someone in Ibadan, bought airtime, and even showed me how to check his balance, all on a simple feature phone. “Na so we dey do am,” he smiled. “With this *894#, you’re good anywhere.” I was stunned. I had a FirstBank account. I’d seen the *894# code on billboards and TV ads. But I’d never used it. Back in Lagos, I had Wi-Fi, power banks, multiple apps, and honestly, I never imagined I’d need anything else. But here, in a place where internet is more wishful thinking than reality, the village was already two steps ahead of me.
The more I asked around, the more I heard about FirstMonie. Everyone seemed to use it. The woman who ran the canteen. The man who sold palm oil. Even the teenagers who hawked groundnuts at the bus stop. It was like the entire community had its own quiet banking revolution and I had just joined the party late.
I walked into a nearby FirstMonie agent’s kiosk the next day, just a colourful umbrella, a chair, and a big welcoming smile. In under ten minutes, she helped me link my FirstBank account, explained how everything worked, and just like that, I was plugged back into my world.
No long queues. No travelling to town. No asking a cousin to help me out. And it’s not just about me. With over 280,000 FirstMonie agents scattered across the country, places like this village aren’t left behind. People are buying, selling, saving, and sending money all without stepping into a bank.
In the weeks that followed, I settled in. The anxiety faded. I found myself using *894# for everything, sending money to my sister, buying airtime, even paying for pepper soup at a joint by the roadside.
Life slowed down in the best way. I still missed the buzz of the city sometimes, but I found something valuable here. Peace of mind. And the quiet confidence that no matter where life takes me, my bank moves with me.
So, if you ever find yourself in a corner of the country where tech feels out of reach and modern banking seems like a luxury, pause. Breathe. Dial *894#. Visit a FirstMonie agent. You’re not alone. You’re not stranded. FirstBank is right there with you. Reference Ladybird Limited www.firstbanknigeria.com
