The Nigerian experience is physical, emotional and sometimes international. No one knows it better than our features on #TheAbroadLife, a series where we detail and explore Nigerian experiences while living abroad.
When we asked this week’s subject on Abroad Life why he left Nigeria, his response was, “Nigeria”. He talks about finding Poland as a cheap japa option, touring Europe on a Schengen visa and his anger at the lack of an African equivalent.
Why did you decide to move abroad?
Nigeria, man, Nigeria. Inflation, low standard of living, insecurity and fear everywhere. I’m just like every other young Nigerian who’d been talking about japa for years. I think something that stops many people from actually japa-ing is money, and it was my problem for a while too. Between 2019 and 2020, I decided to work and have some savings so I can actually start the process.
In 2020, I stumbled on a travel agent’s page and made inquiries about japa on a low budget. I wasn’t targeting the popular countries like the UK or Canada because I knew they were expensive. I wanted somewhere that would match my budget.
And that was Poland?
Yep. According to the agent, he had a 90% success rate with helping people move there.
I’m curious about how much you eventually spent
Nothing more than ₦3.5m. I’m talking school fees, processing fees, flight money, and payment to the agent.
The easiest way to get a Schengen visa was by getting an admission here. I started the process in September 2020, and by March 2021, I was out.
Was that your first time outside Nigeria?
Yep.
Expectations vs reality
Before I travelled, my only idea of what abroad looked like was what I saw in movies and heard from family members who travelled. When I eventually came here myself, man, I was amazed. It just… isn’t Nigeria. You feel like you’re actually in a developed society. Beautiful buildings, great scenery, working transportation systems, everything is amazing here.
As I travel to other countries with my Schengen visa, I see more beauty and development, and I can’t get enough of it. I also didn’t realise I would meet many Nigerians everywhere I go. My thinking was that it’d be difficult to socialise because Nigerians are majorly in the UK, the US and Canada, and not so many elsewhere.
In my time here, I’ve been to Germany, Turkey, Spain and the Netherlands, and I’ve seen Nigerians and even Nigerian stores there. Bro, there are Nigerians in Lithuania.
I’ve also seen people of other countries. Beautiful women. It feels like I’ve been a bird in a box all my life, and now, I’ve been set free.
What type of Nigerians would I meet in Poland?
Mostly students.
Tell me about the Polish too
When I first got here, my neighbours were older people, and it was difficult to communicate with them. The language barrier is usually a problem for people, and that’s why many Nigerians don’t come here. But I survive with Google Translate.
I eventually got a different apartment, where my neighbour was a 21-year-old Polish woman and she was super friendly because we could communicate. Apparently, people in the older generation don’t speak English and don’t really associate with foreigners, but younger people want to learn English because it’s seen as cool and trendy.
They’re generally nice people. Their women like African men. There are some racists, but my stance is that humans just tend to be discriminatory to people that are different from them. Even within Nigeria, there’s tribalism. So I try not to see racism as a big deal.
As I socialised, people began to tell me about how international students get depressed after some time in Poland, and how I could avoid it.
Ah, tell me
So because it’s a different economic system than people are used to, they struggle to keep up. Many people come here because the cost of living is lower than in the rest of Europe — their currency is one-quarter of the euro — but even with that, monthly payment of rent and other bills tend to put people in a bad place financially, and therefore, mentally, especially during winter.
I also know about people who move to the UK with the plan to survive by working multiple jobs, but it doesn’t work out so they end up being broke and unable to survive. Maybe it’s not just a Poland thing, after all.
How do you survive?
I got a job online as a game tester. It pays me enough to pay bills and still have some money left to save and sometimes travel. Maybe people just don’t know, but getting decent jobs as a student here is not so difficult.
How’s school?
School has been online for me the entire time because of COVID.
Here, they don’t want you to fail. They teach pretty well, and if you fail an exam, you get the chance to retake it in a few weeks. The crazy part is that they’ll give you the same questions.
UNILAG is shaking. What’s your favourite part of moving?
Being able to access Europe with just my Schengen visa. It makes me sad to think that we require separate visas to travel to different places within Africa. Bro, I can wake up tomorrow and decide to take a $30 train to Berlin, stay in a cheap hotel for two days, go around the city sightseeing, and be back. I’d only spend like the naira equivalent of ₦50k in total. Do you know how amazing that is?
God when o. Do you plan to stay there forever?
I’d rather not because, like I said, the currency here is not great compared to other European countries. If I decide to stay here after my studies, I’d be earning much less than I could be. So the plan is to finish my studies in two years and move to a country with a better economy. It’s still early, but I’m thinking Canada.
Hey there! My name is Sheriff and I’m the writer of Abroad Life. If you’re a Nigerian and you live or have lived abroad, I would love to talk to you about what that experience feels like and feature you on Abroad Life. All you need to do is fill out this short form, and I’ll be in contact.
Heredity isn’t only physical. Sometimes, we pick up behavioural traits from our parents, even when we don’t want to.
These Nigerian men share the most obvious traits they’ve picked from their fathers.
“It’s Gulder. Specifically Gulder”
— Danny, 23
Growing up, my dad was the biggest Gulder fan ever. He’s a very responsible man, please. I’m saying that because I know Gulder has a bad rep out in the streets. Anyways, Gulder was his favourite beer. I tried it a few times when I was younger and it tasted horrible. I legit thought that would be the end of it.
Look at me now. Whenever I’m buying beer, I’m reaching for the bottle of Gulder. Crazy shit, you know.
“I’m fighting to fix it so bad”
— Salem, 28
My dad always had a problem showing emotion to anyone, including his wife and children. It got so bad that it bordered on him being unpleasant. It even got to the point where we would all be gisting, but when we hear him coming, we’d run off. The funny thing is that he knew we pulled away from him because of it, and he hated it. It’s almost like he wanted to change but couldn’t override his lifelong programming.
I told myself I wouldn’t become like that, but I’ve noticed the behaviour is slowly starting to rear its head in recent times. I’m fighting it sha.
“You either die a hero or live long enough to become your Nigerian father”
— Ken, 27
In the past few years, my life model has become, “There’s always rice at home”. I’m always looking to cut costs wherever I can. I hate waste. And I got it from my dad.
I’m also becoming very antisocial; I’m always working. I used to say I’d never become like my dad who was always either working or staying home, but here I am, home, working and antisocial. It also shows in my extreme diligence. Before I used to be casual about work but omo, now I’m focused. Again, like my dad.
Also, health challenges like constant running stomach are beginning to show up.
So I guess you either die a hero or live long enough to become your Nigerian father.
“It used to be anger, but I’m better now”
— Babatunde, 27
One that I caught early was anger. I used to have a really bad temper like my father. Thankfully, I curbed it early, and now, I think I even smile too much.
Then, there’s spending. I spend like my father. If ₦20k would sort out a small issue right now and I have it on me, I’d spend it without blinking. My mother doesn’t like that he does that though. But I think it’s a good trait because I’m also willing to help people quickly — sometimes, to my detriment, so I’m trying to do better.
I’m becoming more financially intelligent. Like my dad, I plan well and look for secure investments to increase my income. I’m becoming like him body-wise too. I’m starting to have a “dad bod”.
“I absolutely hate waste”
— Joseph, 23
My dad gets angry easily, and I’m becoming like him. But I don’t like that version of him so I’m trying to get better. Interestingly, my anger reflects most on something he gets angry about — waste. If I see people wasting food, electricity or anything I worked hard to get, I get super super pissed. My dad was like that growing up. I hated it. Now, I’m like that.
“You guessed it, unfaithfulness”
— Shege, 30
I watched my parents’ marriage crumble because my dad had been cheating for years. It broke me. I hated him for it, cursed him and other men who cheat. It just never made any sense to me. Now, I struggle to stay faithful in my relationship. There’s absolutely no reason for me to cheat, but I just constantly feel like doing it. Why? I don’t know.
“I hated how defensive my dad was, but now, I’m so defensive”
— Jonathan, 25
Omo, it’s plenty things. First, there’s impulsiveness, indecision and inconsistency. I’d start a project or a relationship on a whim, and once there’s a slight issue, I run away. Related to this is laziness in execution. Like my dad, I always want to delegate. I never want to do anything by myself. If I want to do something and I don’t have someone to delegate it to, I probably will end up not doing it.
Next, there’s the feeling of being attacked all the damn time. I’ve always hated how defensive my dad is, but now, I’m Sergio Ramos. It leads to a lot of arguments between us. I think I’m better than him because I studied psychology and that’s made me more emotionally aware. But it’s definitely a trait I got from him.
Then there’s also the love for praise and the hatred for criticism, no matter how constructive. My dad LOVES being praised for every little achievement. If you don’t praise him, he’ll call you out. “Can’t you see I did x and x?” But if you criticise him, he’ll take it as an attack. Even if you’re trying to better the things he’s done, he takes it as an attack. I’m like that too. But I’ve gotten so much better over the years.
The good thing I picked from him is finding it hard to keep grudges. We let things go easily.
“We’re both super cool dudes”
— Dipo, 20
My dad is the coolest, calmest guy ever. He doesn’t shout; he doesn’t fuss. He’s just cool. If he has an issue, he’ll discuss it calmly and let it go. He did scold, beat and punish me, but not out of rage. I always understood him when he did these things.
Also, my dad is a creative and that’s what I am too.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
Get an auto loan of up to N30 million to buy your dream car, at a reduced interest rate. Get started.
When this week’s subject on Naira Life was 12, an uncle advised him to never do anything for free. Less than 10 years later, he made his first million. How did this creative build a stable business from scratch?
Tell me about your earliest memory of money.
My dad ensured my siblings and I learned about computers because he knew the future was tech. He got us a computer when I was 7, and hired a computer teacher for home lessons. By the time I turned 12 in 2007, I was already helping adults set up emails and search for stuff on the internet.
One day, an uncle asked me to help him do something on his phone and asked how much I was charging. It was a strange question. Of course, I wasn’t going to charge him. When I told him this, he looked at me and said, “Is that how you’re going to become a millionaire?”
That moment defined the way I saw work, and I’m grateful to him.
Did he pay you?
₦1,000. First money I ever made.
From then, any time someone needed me to do anything on their computers, I charged them between ₦1k and ₦2k, and surprisingly, they paid. This continued for a couple of years until I got to senior secondary school. In SS 1, I was part of a dance group, and I made the music mixes we danced to myself. Whenever we went for a competition, people wanted to know where we got the music, and soon enough, I began charging ₦5k to make mixes for people. Again, because I was using my computer a lot, I’d learnt how to design. Whenever there were parties, I designed invitation cards and printed them with my dad’s printer.
By the time I was going to university, I’d made enough money to buy a ₦60k iPod Touch for myself.
Had you always been interested in doing business?
My parents were business people, but they wanted us to have traditional jobs for stability. Me, I just wanted to do the things I enjoyed. It wasn’t really about business or money.
The major factor that guided my choice of university was that I wanted it to be a place where I could be by myself and improve on my skills without stress. So my parents put me in a private school.
What skills were you looking to build?
I liked films, so video editing was the next thing I thought to learn. By my second semester, I made a short film that went viral on campus, and I became popular. Next thing, people started reaching out to me to make videos for them. My first gig was to produce a game show for some campus organisation. It paid ₦35k. After that, I never stopped getting gigs. ₦100k here, ₦20k there, ₦50k here. School became secondary and my grades dipped terribly, but I didn’t care.
By my second year, my parents were so worried I wasn’t asking them for money anymore, that they told my cousins to start sending me money.
You didn’t tell them you were a business mogul?
I didn’t want them to lecture me and say stuff like, “Face your studies for now. You can do business later”. I just kept it to myself.
Occasionally, companies outside school would notice me and reach out, and I’d make some nice ₦250k or ₦300k.
Were you doing all this on your own?
Because I was making good money and getting more work, I decided to hire people outside school and put them on salaries. We’d find early-stage tech startups and reach out to them to make videos for them. Surprisingly, a lot of them agreed.
In my fourth year, we got a big client that paid ₦1m in cash. I remember just sitting and looking at the money, thinking, “Man, I’ve made it.”
LMAO. What were you using the money you were making for?
Apart from paying salaries, I bought gadgets like new phones and computers to help me work better. Also, my biggest motivation for making money is that money helps you do things you don’t want to do. For example, I hate cooking, so when I started making money, I bought food. Other things like paying for laundry also made my life easier.
I was having a conversation with someone recently who correctly said that when I was in school, I didn’t have to start a company. I could have been making good money as a freelancer without the stress of paying salaries and running a company. Now though, I don’t regret starting the company. It’s a legacy for me, and that legacy keeps growing bigger.
What happened after uni?
I graduated in 2014. My convocation was on a Friday. By Monday, we’d found an office space, paid rent and resumed full-time by 9 a.m. That year was for a lot of learning. For example, we spent so much money trying to set the office up, we started going broke. So yeah, it’s never a good idea to spend everything your company has on office aesthetics. We also learnt that in the creative industry, invoicing a client doesn’t mean you have the money. Some big companies take months to pay and that can leave you in a bad place if you were relying on their money to pay salaries and survive. Thankfully, because we had a lot of clients, we were getting a good in-flow of money, so the worst thing that happened was a one-week salary delay.
For the first year, my salary was ₦500k once every three months and increased it to ₦1m every three months the next year.
I lived in the office space and didn’t go out a lot. However, based on how well the business did, I took bonuses at the end of each year. My first bonus was enough to buy me my first car, and that’s when my parents realised that they didn’t have to worry about me anymore.
They were still worried at this time?
Oh yeah. They kept sending me job opportunities and asking questions like, “Are you sure you can make a living out of this?”
By the end of the second year, we moved to a more strategic location where we had to pay rent that was 5x what we were paying before.
When did you start getting a monthly salary?
After the second year when I started dating and having boyfriend responsibilities. The business was also doing much better and I needed a stable income, so I started earning a monthly income.
Is that what you earn right now?
Nah, I earn ₦1.5m a month, and my average end of year bonus is about ₦4m.
Omo.
I’m looking at more bigger picture stuff now. For example, I don’t want to collect a monthly salary from my company anymore. I just want to collect a lump sum at the end of each year, after we analyse our profits. The more money we make in a year, the more I’ll earn.
Also, my goals for this year are to learn and invest in real estate. I know there’s money in it.
In a month, what do you spend your money on?
Tell me one thing you want but can’t afford.
If I say I want a brand new car, it might sound greedy because I already have a car. So I’m just going to say a nice house in one of the wealthy parts of my state.
Do you ever get asked to do stuff for free?
Nobody asks us to do stuff for free, but there are people that expect us to deliver much more than they paid for. Early on, it was fine because we just wanted the big clients, but as time went on, we learned that not billing people properly can lead to see-finish.
Rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10.
I’d put it at a 7. Like I said, money does things I wouldn’t necessarily do myself. Now, I have a chef and live a pretty comfortable life. I don’t even have to work so much anymore. I can walk into the office and find out we’ve been paid for a job I didn’t even know about. That’s pretty dope. Also, I can travel. I love travelling.
Get an auto loan of up to N30 million to buy your dream car, at a reduced interest rate. Get started.
The Nigerian experience is physical, emotional, and sometimes international. No one knows it better than our features on #TheAbroadLife, a series where we detail and explore Nigerian experiences while living abroad.
Living in Lagos was so hectic for today’s subject on Abroad Life and her husband, she didn’t know he could cook until he made her a surprise meal in Canada. She talks about waiting for two years to travel, having her mum take care of her first child, and the peace of mind that comes with being abroad.
When did you decide to move abroad?
I had my first child in the UK in December 2012. I’d known for a while that I’d probably have a not-so-smooth delivery because of my blood group, but midway through my pregnancy, the doctors in Nigeria found out I also had a fibroid and told me I’d have to deliver through CS. My husband and I decided to travel to have the baby to reduce the risks of complications.
I got to the UK, the doctors checked me and said I didn’t have to do CS because it was a minor issue. After I argued, they referred me to a specialist who told me the same thing. Throughout the process, everyone I met — nurses, doctors, attendants — was so friendly, professional and confidence-inspiring. I felt safe. I was in a general hospital in the UK, but the quality of care was just spectacular. And life in the UK was stress-free.
When I eventually had my baby, there were slight complications, but I had a natural delivery and the baby and I were fine. After that, I decided I didn’t want my child to grow up in Nigeria. Abroad just felt better.
What did you do about it?
My husband and I had spoken about moving to Canada before my childbirth experience, but it wasn’t serious. When we got back to Nigeria, we decided to start the process full-time. First, we hired an agent to help us, but it didn’t seem like it was moving quickly. My husband has a cousin who’s been in Canada long before us, so we reached out to him and he told us we didn’t need an agent because he could run us through the process. So we collected our money back and did our thing ourselves.
Between February and April 2014, we were able to submit our application.
Why did you pick Canada?
I know people in the UK who are constantly looking over their shoulders because they have incomplete papers or expired visas. Migration to Canada is much more straightforward and drama-free. The other option was Australia, but we ultimately picked Canada because we have family here.
When did you eventually move?
2016.
Two whole years after submitting the application?
Yep. It’s like that sometimes. You just have to wait in the pool of applicants until you get your provincial nomination and invitation to apply for permanent residency.
What was the wait like?
It was tiring, but we also had it in the back of our minds that there was light at the end of the tunnel. From the moment we stepped back into Nigeria, I became hyper-aware of the flaws. First, there was no AC at the airport when we landed because, apparently, they were being repaired. Imagine my child who had lived for about a month in the UK being plunged straight into that heat. It was terrible. I also started noticing how stressful or nonexistent access to basic amenities like good roads and stable electricity were. All of this made the move even more necessary.
Expectation vs reality: Canada edition.
Because we have friends and family here, they helped us manage our expectations before we travelled. I think, for many people, moving abroad automatically means you’re going to start living well, making good money, buying cars and good houses, etc. But we already knew that we’d have to wait for a bit and integrate into society before we get those things.
We had to live with people for some time before we got our own place. Then, we had to find jobs. In Canada, finding well-paying jobs in your field is difficult. They usually want you to have Canadian job experience even when you’re just coming in. Your job in Nigeria will most likely not count as experience. For example, I studied engineering and was already an IT supervisor earning in dollars in Nigeria. When I got here, my first job was as a technical support person. I basically took calls from people who needed help with their internet. It felt like a downgrade, but it’s what I had to do.
With time, I got promotions, but I lost the job because of the pandemic in 2020. I eventually got a government job that same year and started my master’s which I’ll complete this year. I can’t wait to become hot cake, working at the big firms again.
Love it. Let’s talk about family life in Canada.
When we lived in Nigeria, my husband and I had would wake up by 4:30 a.m. and be on the roads by 5:30 because we needed to get to work on time. Our child barely lived with us. He was always with my mum. We picked him up on weekends. In fact, we enrolled him in a school close to my mum’s place because we didn’t have time for him. If we continued like that, I don’t think we’d have been a close-knit family.
Here in Canada, things are much different. I remember when I went to work one day, before the pandemic, and my husband had made rice and beans. What? I didn’t even know he could cook. Even I wasn’t cooking in Nigeria. There was no time for all that. But finding out my husband can cook was shocking for me, I can’t lie. Now, we have two children, and we live like a proper family. We have meals together, everyone does chores, we play, we do everything together because we have more control of our time. We’re not spending unnecessary time in traffic or being unproductive because there’s no light.
When I had my second child, I took care of him myself. I had time to do it.
A lot of Nigerians abroad tell me it gets lonely.
Not for me. I have two kids, a job, a husband who’s my gist partner, school, and extended family here. Also, I’m a boring person. With all of this, I don’t have the time or headspace to get bored. There’s always something. Also, my city has a very high number of Nigerians, so it’s almost like I’m in Nigeria.
Interesting. Tell me a bit about Canadians.
They’re nice, friendly people who hate confrontation. None of the blatant, American-type racism you hear about. If you experience racism here, it’s subtle. You probably wouldn’t even notice it.
Are you a citizen now?
My entire family is Canadian now, yes. Once you spend three years as a permanent resident here, you can apply for citizenship, and that’s what we did.
Please tell me you’ve been flexing that passport.
I’ve only travelled to Nigeria with it. I have young kids and I’m doing my master’s, so I can’t just hop on planes around the world. Before I came to Nigeria though, I went to the UK, and my God, it was the most stress-free travelling experience ever. When we landed, there was a place for people from Canada, America and maybe one other country to pass and scan their passports, while people from other countries had to get on a long queue to be questioned by immigration officers. It felt delightful to just walk in for once.
What’s your favourite part about living in Canada?
I like that I can plan my life and know that things will go according to plan. I can decide I want to do something and no rules will suddenly pop up saying I can’t.
I feel really good about my decision to move. I know someone just like me who had slight complications while giving birth in Nigeria and died. Here, things just feel much safer.
And your least favourite part?
Honestly, I can’t think of anything right now.
Hey there! My name is Sheriff and I’m the writer of Abroad Life. If you’re a Nigerian and you live or have lived abroad, I would love to talk to you about what that experience feels like and feature you on Abroad Life. All you need to do is fill out this short form, and I’ll be in contact.
Picture this: You’re at a house party, meeting someone for the first time. There’s FIFA, and your guy who invited you says something like, “Ah Dayo, this is the guy I told you about. He’s really good at FIFA. He’ll beat you.” You look at the guy. He looks at you. You say, “Oya now, make we play.” Fifteen minutes later, everyone is on the floor laughing because the guy has spelt your full government name.
No one ever forgets that till the day you die, and even after.
How can you avoid a situation like that? How can you recognise someone that’s about to use FIFA to embarrass you? Let’s get into it.
1. They say something like, “I no too sabi like that”
Why do men lie? If you’re about to play someone on FIFA and they say they’re not good, just drop pad and start going to your house. But if you continue, anything your eyes see, take it like that o.
2. They use tactical defending
When you start doing your controller settings and you see them choose tactical defending instead of legacy defending, just start making excuses that you need to be somewhere else. What happened to holding “X” to mark? Ehn?
3. They wait for you to pick your team, then choose a lower team
These are the truly wicked people. They’ll wait for you to select your team and then intentionally choose a lower ranked team. I’ve once played someone that saw me pick Real Madrid and decided to use Girona. 5-1. He beat me 5-1!
But that was years ago. He can’t play me now. I’ll spell his name.
5. They either skip celebrations or do custom celebrations
It’s either they skip celebrations or do one of those annoying celebrations when they score. Those people are proper demons.
6. They take their time to set tactics and roles.
You see those people that take time to set roles and tactics instead of just jumping from formations straight into the game? Fear them. They will embarass you.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
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When today’s subject on Naira Life was 27, he received a ₦50k paycheck and tried to return it because he’d never made that much before so he thought it was a mistake. From working at age 12 to taking care of five siblings at 20, how did this man survive?
What’s your earliest memory of money?
When former president Olusegun Obasanjo banned the importation of frozen foods into the country in 2003, my dad lost his means of livelihood, and things got difficult for our family. By 2004, when I was 12, things got so bad I had to stay out of school for a short period. That same year, I got my first job as a salesperson at a soap-making factory. The pay was ₦6k monthly. Every month, I would give my mum all the money and she would give me ₦500 to keep for myself. She used the rest, in addition to whatever she was making from her small soft drinks shop, to feed me and my five younger siblings.
About a year later, I heard that another factory was paying ₦8k to offload trailers and unbox goods, so I left my ₦6k job and went there.
How did you find these jobs?
My friends in school told me about them. These people mainly hired secondary school students. When I finished school by 2 p.m., I would go to work till 8 p.m. This went on until my mum died of cancer in 2012.
I’m so sorry, man.
Thank you. A year before she died, my dad left home because a friend had a job opportunity for him. This meant my mum had to step up even more to take care of us. And she still sent most of the money she made to him as the head of the house. After she died, we found out my dad had gone to start another family elsewhere. Before he died in 2016, he had five children with the other woman.
That’s terrible.
When my mum was still sick, her family members used to come to the house to collect some of our home appliances and even money. When she died, I thought those same people were going to take care of me and my siblings. It turns out they were just trying to get what they could. After the funeral in the village, there was a family meeting about what was going to happen to us, and the decision was that they’d split us and send us to different family members. The last time that happened was when my mum was still alive and things weren’t good. She sent two of my siblings to stay with her friend who maltreated them. She used them as maids, didn’t send them to school and made them lie to us that they were going to school.
I wasn’t going to let anything like that happen again, so I called a friend back home in Lagos to send me some money for transportation. Before anybody woke up the next morning, I took all my siblings to the bus park and we returned to Lagos to stay with another friend.
On the day we got there, they had a pastor visiting. When he heard our story, he offered to move us into one of the church’s apartments — a room and parlour — and we accepted.
That’s great.
This time, I found a job at an ice block factory that paid ₦15k monthly. My supervisor had a laptop, so he taught me graphics design. As time went on, I got myself a cheap laptop and started designing documents, letterheads and presentations for people. I charged between ₦200 to ₦1k. From the ₦15k and design money, I registered my younger twin brothers for WAEC, put the twin girls back in senior secondary school and took the last born to primary school. We also moved into our own face-me-I-face-you where we paid ₦2,500 a month. There’s a funny story from when I tried to register my youngest sister in school.
Tell me.
It was the last day of registration and everyone was rushing to get their children in. When it got to my turn, the man in charge told me I couldn’t register her because I wasn’t her parent. When I told him I was her guardian, he burst into laughter and told us to leave the premises. There and then, something broke in me and I just started wailing. When my sister saw me, she started crying too. I eventually had to get an affidavit that said I was her brother and I was older than 18.
How long did this phase go on for?
Five years. In that period, all the money I made was for feeding my siblings and sending them to school. My brothers had already started hustling too. One was a sales assistant and the other was a primary school teacher. Their combined monthly income was about ₦15k. It went a long way in our survival. On weekends, we went out and found parties where we could eat for free.
In early 2017, I did a design for a Lagos State civil servant, and he liked it, so he offered me a job at the commission where he worked. I tried to explain to him that I didn’t have a university degree, but he said it didn’t matter. Shortly after, my laptop spoilt so I couldn’t design anymore. I also lost contact with the man.
Shortly after, someone started building their house on my street, and because I was trying to make more money, I went there to find out if I could do labour. When he saw me, he didn’t think I could do the work because of my small stature so he offered to make me the supervisor. My job was to make sure the workers were using the right number of cement bags, coming to work on time, making progress, etc. When I found out the workers themselves were earning ₦2k per day, I decided to join them, so that my daily income would be ₦3k.
What was that like?
When I woke up the day after I first joined them to work, I couldn’t move a muscle for a while. But I had to be back on the site by 5 a.m. so I somehow dragged myself there. I didn’t do any physical labour that day. When the other workers found out it was my first time, they were empathetic. Apparently, if they’d known, they’d have bought agbo for me. That day, they gave me the agbo some with tablets, and I became completely fine. That’s how I survived seven months of daily physical labour until we completed the house. I made ₦3k a day for seven months straight. The money went into feeding myself and my siblings, as usual.
We finished the house in late 2017. In early 2018, I met the civil servant again and he told me he’d been looking for me. That same day, he gave me a letter. He told me to take it to an office and tell them he sent me.
New job?
Yes, but let me tell you the drama that happened first. Outside the office, I met a woman, and I can’t remember what happened, but we ended up insulting each other. By the time the receptionist asked me to go in to see oga, it turned out to be the same woman.
Ah.
She just collected my letter and told me to resume work.
What was the job?
Office assistant. I helped with letter entry, paperwork, bookkeeping, printing stuff, etc. Basically, anything that had to do with technology or filing.
How much did they pay?
They told me my salary was going to be ₦15k. I wouldn’t spend any money on transportation because there was a staff bus, so it was good pay for me. They paid salary in cash. When they gave me my first envelope, I put it in my bag and went home. At home, I counted it and saw ₦50k. I wanted to go crazy. The next day, I went to my boss and told her that it must have been some kind of mistake. She just hissed and told me to get out of her office. We still weren’t on speaking terms. In fact, we weren’t on speaking terms for the first three months I worked there.
I didn’t get any explanation as to why I got ₦50k so I just assumed it was a test. I removed my ₦15k, and kept the rest so if they asked for it, I’d give them back without any issue. As the month went by, I got broke again, so I removed another ₦15k. My thinking was that if they asked me to return their money, I’d just return the remaining ₦20k and tell them not to pay me for the second month.
By the end of my second month, they paid me ₦50k again. This time, I went to my boss’ PA to ask why. She told me it was because my boss — who wasn’t on speaking terms with me — told them to pay me ₦50k instead of ₦15k.
Wow.
I was so grateful. The money changed our lives significantly. For the first time, I took my siblings to eat at a restaurant. We ate better, bought a fan, a small TV and a new mattress. I saved ₦20k, and because my brothers were earning about ₦30k each too, collected ₦10k from each of them to save.
I also registered them for university, registered myself to write GCE, linked my sisters up to learn some trade and still paid my youngest sister’s school fees. By February 2019, something totally unexpected happened.
Give me the gist.
Beside our face-me-I-face-you, there was a plot of land with a house that had one parlour and five rooms. It was owned by a man who was hardly around. He didn’t have family that we knew of, he wasn’t married and he didn’t socialise with many people, but he was my friend. Whenever he was around, I would go to say hi to him, and we would gist a lot.
In February 2019, he came and said he was moving to the village and he wanted to sell the house to me, so I should give him whatever amount I had.
What?
I was confused, but he insisted he didn’t want to sell it to any other person but me. After a few days, I brought in a friend from the townplanning department of Lagos, we sorted out the papers and the house was legally transferred to me. All the money I had in savings was ₦400k. I gave him everything.
A Lagos homeowner.
My siblings and I moved in immediately. He’d plastered only one room and the parlour, so we could only sleep in those two places. As time went on, we plastered one room at a time and picked one room each.
In May 2019, I lost my job. They were cutting roles because of the election and change in governance, and mine was impacted. After that, I went online to look for all the jobs I could apply for. Nobody gave me an interview until July when a school called me back for a teaching role.
In the interview, I basically told the principal my life story and begged him to hire me because I had people to feed. I got the job. It paid ₦40k. It was far from home, and my monthly spend on transportation was ₦20k, but it was something.
Did you enjoy the job?
I absolutely loved it. The principal helped me settle in like we’d been friends for a long time. He was super nice to me. When I got there, the school was looking to build a computer lab and they didn’t want to contract it out. The principal and I went to Computer Village, bought computers and I learnt how to create a network of systems with a networking cable. We built the entire computer lab from scratch.
That same year, I bought a laptop for my brothers along with a book on HTML and CSS. They learnt how to code, and started getting small gigs in school. I also built two tiny shops in front of my house and let them out. By January 2020, I got a new job.
What kind of job?
Content creator at an organisation that teaches STEM to children. They partner with schools and individual parents to teach children tech skills. My job was to read through course material and turn them into PowerPoint presentations for classes. The pay was ₦100k. By February, I moved out to get my own small place.
How did that raise change things for you?
For the first time in my life, I could do things for myself. Between January and February, I went to the cinema for the first time in my life, I went to the beach, Chicken Republic, Coldstone and Domino’s. I just wanted to know what it felt like to go into the places I only passed by. It wasn’t easy to spend money without calling to find out if my siblings had eaten first, but thankfully, my brothers were already making a combined ₦140k monthly doing frontend development, so everybody was okay.
At work, I was punching way above my weight. If I was meant to create content for two courses in a month, I’d create 10. By March when lockdown hit, the company downsized from 17 people to five. I was one of the people they retained. It meant I had to do much more work, but I didn’t mind. 2020 was the year I made the most money.
How?
In March and April, I only made my ₦100k salary. By May, parents of pupils we’d taught at a free training before lockdown started reaching out to ask me to take their children private remote lessons. I got so many calls and students that I had to hire some of the people my company fired, and my siblings, to assist me in teaching. Each student paid about ₦60k. After paying everyone who worked for me, I still made between ₦300k and ₦400k a month. My brothers lost their jobs due to the lockdown, so all my siblings moved in with me again. I got them all laptops, and they assisted me with my work. By the end of 2020, I had over ₦1m in savings.
I also went into deep learning mode that year. I learnt UI/UX, drone technology (how to build and fly drones), robotics, and so much more. I was always either working or learning.
Did your organisation know you were teaching kids on the side?
For the first few months, I didn’t think what I was doing was wrong. When it dawned on me, I reached out to my boss to tell him. Apparently, he already knew. Shortly after, we resumed work physically, and I transferred all my personal clients to the company.
By January 2021, I got promoted to be the team lead of the content team, and my salary was increased to ₦120k. Even though I don’t have the teaching side jobs anymore, I still make a decent ₦200k to ₦300k on many months.
How?
I get UI/UX gigs, I fly drones at events almost every weekend, and I get called to schools to speak about stuff like robotics.
How are your siblings?
They’re good. One of my sisters is married, the other is doing good as a fashion designer, one brother works as an AI engineer, and the other has a job as a developer for a UK-based company. The last born is a law student.
That’s amazing. How has your money journey affected your view of money?
Money is so so important. It’s a tool to get what you need, and without it, people suffer. I’m a good example. Now, I can afford most things I want.
What’s one thing you want but can’t afford?
Hmm… Maybe a car.
Can you share your monthly expense breakdown?
What are your plans for the future?
I want to make more money so I can help people in situations like what I faced growing up. People deserve chances at an education. Also, I want to get married. I’m turning 30 this year and all my mates are married.
Did you ever try to reconnect with your dad?
I don’t know how, but he found us sometime in 2014, and I simply told him to leave. He didn’t even come for my mum’s funeral, so what was he looking for in our lives?
What’s your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?
8. Looking at where I came from, I’m quite happy to be where I am now. I can live on a little or a lot, and it won’t make a difference. I want more money, but I’m very happy right now.
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The Nigerian experience is physical, emotional, and sometimes international. No one knows it better than our features on #TheAbroadLife, a series where we detail and explore Nigerian experiences while living abroad.
Today’s subject on Abroad Life moved to the UK because the company he works for transferred him there. He talks about Nigerians in the UK being wary of new Nigerians coming in because of their tendency to grow overdependent.
When did you decide to move abroad?
The company I work for transferred me here. I was a freelance cinematographer until 2020 when I got a full-time job as a video editor. By late 2021, I’d been promoted to head of media, and the company was opening a branch in the UK, so they asked me to go because I had travelling history.
What travelling history?
When I was a freelancer, my major work was with a popular musician. I travelled with them wherever they went. Sometimes, it was the UK. Other times, the US. In fact, I was in the US with them the entire year of 2019.
What did it feel like dropping everything and moving to the UK?
Because of my type of work, I was hardly ever at home. My parents were already used to me not being around. Also, I don’t have a lot of friends, so there wasn’t a lot to drop. I just told all the people I thought would care, and we hung out shortly before I left early this year (2022).
Expectation vs reality: the UK edition.
Because I would always come to the UK with one musician or the other, everything was usually paid for. Omo, I didn’t expect that things would be this expensive o. Here, nobody is your friend except you have money. You can’t smile, beg or haggle to get bargains or discounts. The UK is bloody expensive. I had to stay in a hotel for a month before I found an apartment, and for that entire month, the bill was ₦1m.
Omo.
It’s also complicated to get an apartment. Here, you have to prove you can pay for the apartment with a six-month account statement, and many homeowners want to see that you’ve worked in the UK for those six months. In my case, I had to prove that my company, which was just setting up in the UK, was legitimate. I needed an account statement, and I needed a guarantor.
So I guess it was difficult to settle in?
The cold will mess with you. The weather is getting warmer now, so I can open my windows and put on my fan, but when I first got here, the cold dealt with me. Another thing I found complex was the train system. When you’re new in London, you have to study the train schedules and routes, and ask questions. I once stopped at the same wrong place five times in a row in a single day because I didn’t understand what I was doing.
Nigerian food is like gold here. I once bought a tiny pack of rice and beans for the naira equivalent of ₦10k.
Should I cancel my plans to come to London?
LMAO, no. The best way to settle well in London is to make friends before you come here. But as you make friends, don’t make it seem like you’re coming here to depend on them. They’ll ghost you. Nigerians in the UK hate it when people come and become entirely dependent on them because you assume they’re comfortable. When you get here, invite people for drinks and offer to pay or split the bills, don’t stay too long at people’s houses, etc.
I’ve heard stories of people getting to the airport in the UK and their contacts don’t pick their calls, or they block them. People do that because some Nigerians come here and become liabilities. Housing someone for one week turns to two months, and they’re eating your food and not working because they don’t need to contribute anything.
Do you have any personal experiences?
When my hotel stay was about to expire, and I was finalising my apartment papers, I called a co-worker who already stayed in London to ask if I could keep my bag at his apartment while I ran around and sorted things out. He was extremely hesitant. He even asked me to send pictures of the bag to see what it looked like. That’s when I began to understand the dynamics between Nigerians who stay in the UK and Nigerians who’ve freshly arrived. It’s cautious.
Getting jobs is difficult. Work experience in Nigeria hardly cuts it for UK employers. Rent is expensive. So when Nigerians eventually get comfortable here, they just want to pay rent, buy groceries, fund their transportation cards, and save the rest. Before I got here, I thought Nigerians in the UK went out often and spent a lot of money. Nope. Even when they come to Nigeria for detty December and look like they’re balling, it’s because they’ve been saving for the entire year.
What about the people from the UK?
They’re polite. They say sorry, please, and excuse me a lot. But don’t take it to mean they like you. It’s just how they are.
Do you see yourself staying there for long?
I’m enjoying my job because it’s giving me more responsibilities, helping me sharpen my skills and I still have time to work on personal projects. I see myself staying at the company for at least three more years, and that means I’ll be in the UK for at least three more years.
What’s your favourite part of living there?
The weather, the variety of food, all the new people I meet, the blazing fast internet and the fact that I have access to more streaming platforms.
And your least favourite part?
It’s boring and can get lonely. Also, I’ve been hearing news of stabbings, so whenever I go out, I’m wondering, “Am I next?”
Hey there! My name is Sheriff and I’m the writer of Abroad Life. If you’re a Nigerian and you live or have lived abroad, I would love to talk to you about what that experience feels like and feature you on Abroad Life. All you need to do is fill out this short form, and I’ll be in contact.
Just in case your day was going too smoothly, we’ve decided to make a compilation of the most abominable food pictures you’ll find on Obasanjo’s internet.
You know how someone talks about something on Twitter, and suddenly everyone comes out to share their experiences about that thing? That’s also how this one started. Here’s the tweet that launched a thousand horrifyingly hilarious revelations:
Men’s banter is too funny, something life threatening could’ve happened but once we establish you’re still alive every joke in the universe will fly
The resulting quote tweets and replies are so damn funny, we simply want to ask Nigerian men, “Why are you so funny?” and to also let them know that this kind of humour has earned them one-way tickets to hell.
How does one even begin to process this?
The bright side here is that if this person ever decides to become a rapper, he already has a perfectly viable stage name and tragically funny backstory.
Whew. EMOTIONAL DAMAGE!
Speaking of viable stage names and tragic backstories:
At this point, I’d prefer they keep me.
Aku would be proud.
This would be my 13th reason.
People need to chill.
Errand boy? Please.
What’s that thing they say about every disappointment being a blessing in disguise?.
