TapSwap. Remember the great tapping epidemic in May? It swept through Nigeria like a harmattan wind, ruffling feathers and filling pockets (or so it promised). From the bustling markets of Lagos to the quiet corners of rural villages, the air crackled with a rhythmic tapping of fingers against phone screens.

Okada riders, those daredevils on two wheels, became one-handed acrobats, manoeuvred through traffic while their thumbs hammered away at the app. Passengers clung on for dear life, their dreams of crypto riches momentarily concealed by the very real fear of a bone-jarring road accident.

Secondary school and university students, driven by the potent cocktail of youthful optimism and late-night Maggi noodles, became midnight tappers, their tired eyes fixed on their screen for a promise of easy fortune. Traders in the market, their stalls overflowing with colourful wares, found themselves strangely uninterested in customers, their minds elsewhere, in the digital world of TapSwap.

The allure was undeniable. The idea that one could become a crypto millionaire simply by tapping – a far cry from the sweat and hustle that defined most Nigerian realities – was intoxicating. But a question lingered amidst the tapping frenzy: was TapSwap a legitimate pathway to riches, or a cunningly disguised well of disappointment?

The answer, like the Lagos traffic on a Monday morning, is not clear. Critics pointed to the unlikelihood of earning real money through mere taps, many people asserted that it reminded them of another pyramid scheme. The lack of transparency surrounding the app's creators and the uncertain future of the promised Tap tokens fueled the scepticism. Yet, for some, the potential reward outweighed the risk. After all, there was no upfront investment, no financial risk to speak of. Perhaps, they thought, this was their chance to break free from the cycle, to tap their way into a brighter future.

The jury is still out on TapSwap. Was it a genuine, albeit unorthodox, way to introduce people to the cryptocurrency space? Or was it a fleeting mirage, a cruel trick played on our collective desire for financial liberation? Only time will tell. But one thing remains certain: the TapTap frenzy was a moment of national fascination, a proof to the Nigerian spirit of always seeking out financial freedom and, yes, perhaps a touch of naivety. It was a time when the rhythm of tapping filled the air, a sound that reflected the desire for financial prosperity and determination of Nigerians to get it in whatever way they can.