Scam AwarenessSkySus

28 Jul 3 min read

The Day I Gave Up Looking for a House in Port Harcourt

I moved to Port Harcourt believing the hardest part of starting a new life would be paying rent. I had no idea the real challenge would be surviving the agents. My office was around GRA Phase 2, so I started looking for a one-bedroom apartment in Rumuola, Eliozu, Woji, and Rumuokoro. My budget was ₦900,000, and I had managed to save a little over ₦1.2 million. I honestly thought that would be enough. The first apartment looked perfect. The landlord wanted ₦850,000. I smiled because I knew I could afford it. Then the agent started reading from a list. "Agent fee, 10%." "Agreement fee, ₦120,000." "Legal fee, ₦80,000." "Caution fee, ₦100,000." "Inspection fee." "Mobilization fee." Then he leaned closer and smiled. "Oga, you go still drop drink money." I thought he was joking until he brought out his calculator. By the time he finished, I needed almost ₦1.5 million to rent a house whose annual rent was just ₦850,000. I walked away. That was only the beginning. One agent collected ₦5,000 for inspection in Eliozu. We got there only for the tenant to tell us the apartment had already been rented out three days earlier. The agent wasn't even embarrassed. He simply said, "No problem. I get another one." Another one? It was a leaking apartment with broken windows, and somehow the rent had magically increased by ₦300,000. Another agent around Woji showed me pictures of a beautiful apartment online. When I arrived, the building in front of me looked nothing like the photos. When I complained, he laughed and said, "Na sample picture. Houses no dey stay the same." I didn't even know what to say. Then came the one that nearly made me lose my temper. An agent in Rumuokoro said he couldn't continue showing me houses unless I paid his "fuel balance" because fuel had become expensive. After I transferred the money, he casually added, "Oga, buy me lunch too. Since morning I never chop." At that point, I wasn't sure whether I was house hunting or running a charity foundation. Weeks turned into months. Every day I withdrew money. Inspection here. Mobilization there. Registration here. Agreement there. Legal fee. Drink money. Settlement. Processing. Every new agent invented a new payment. The painful part? Some of the houses they showed me weren't even available. Some landlords later told me they had never asked for half of those charges. One afternoon, tired and frustrated, I sat outside a compound in Rumuola after another wasted inspection. An elderly security man looked at me and asked why I looked so defeated. I explained everything. He just shook his head and said quietly, "My son, you are the fifth person this week these agents have brought here. This house was rented almost one month ago." I froze. Then he pointed at the same agent who had collected inspection money from me. The man was already walking another young couple into the compound. To collect another inspection fee. At that moment, I realized the house was never the business. People like me were. I left without saying a word. Three weeks later, I found a direct landlord through a colleague. There were no mysterious fees, no endless payments, no drink money, and no stories. But I still think about the thousands of naira I wasted chasing houses that were never available. Sometimes I wonder how many young people have emptied their savings because they trusted the wrong agents. If you're planning to rent a house in Port Harcourt, be careful. Not every agent is dishonest, and there are many hardworking, trustworthy professionals. But the dishonest ones have turned people's search for shelter into a business of endless charges. To this day, whenever I hear someone say, "I found an apartment through an agent," my first question is no longer, "How much is the rent?" It's, "How much did the agent collect from you before you even got the keys?"