She leaned over the counter, a twinkle in her eye and a knowing smile. “It’s funny, ain’t it?” she said, wiping a glass clean. “Men only stop foolin’ around when their wallets get thin.”

Well she didn’t actually speak to me, but she spoke into a camera and the recording was sent by a friend to me on WhatsApp.

She wasn’t wrong as she continued explaining that she had seen that when the economy takes a nosedive, it’s not just stocks and savings that plummet—passions cool faster than a half-priced beer at happy hour. Hotel rooms meant for “unmarried couples” stay suspiciously vacant. The phones of call girls and escorts stop buzzing. And here at the bar, regulars who once nursed expensive drinks now squint at the price of a beer and say, “Just water, thanks.”

A recession, it seems, is the best marriage counselor money can’t buy.

But that video got me thinking. When the economy is booming and good days are rolling, people are quick to live on the edge. “Live a little!” they say, as if responsibility is a dirty word. Bank accounts are full, temptations are strong, and God—well, He’s an afterthought. Why pray when the world is your oyster, served on a silver platter with a lot of arrogance thrown in.

Yet, when the bubble bursts and belts tighten, prayers shoot up faster than stock prices plummet.

“Lord, help me!” becomes the anthem of the hour.

Funny, isn’t it? When times are tough, we clutch faith like a drowning man grasps at a piece of wood. But when blessings abound, we drift away, indulging every whim until reality slaps us awake.

And maybe that’s the point. It’s easy to remember God in a crisis—after all, desperation is a powerful motivator. But I believe that true wisdom is found in remembering Him during the good days, too.

When life is smooth and money flows freely, maybe we should pray even harder.

Imagine a world where prosperity doesn’t lead to promiscuity.

Where blessings are met with gratitude instead of indulgence.

Where the success of good days is built on solid foundations—faith, family, and work—rather than fleeting thrills. Maybe if we remembered to pray when wallets are fat, we wouldn’t need to pray so desperately when they’re thin.

The bargirl’s words still linger. “Funny, ain’t it?” she’d said as she looked at her empty bar.

And I had to agree. It’s a twisted sort of irony—good times make us forget God, bad times make us remember. Maybe the trick is to flip that script: make prayer a habit, not a last resort.

So dear bargirl, here’s a toast—not to the good days or bad days, but to the days we remember who blessed us in the first place.

After all, a prayer in prosperity is worth two in a recession. Cheers..!

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