What does it mean to be a man? Surely, it’s not one thing. It’s a series of little moments that add up. Man Like is a weekly Zikoko series documenting these moments to see how it adds up. It’s a series for men by men, talking about men’s issues. We try to understand what it means to “be a man” from the perspective of the subject of the week.

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Today’s Man Like is Yimika Owoaje, a musician and creative. He talks to us about switching from engineering in university to becoming a creative, support from his father and his plans for the future.

How would you describe yourself?

I’m a creative that has put my hand in different things at different times. Initially, I started with writing and that snowballed into me shooting videos. In uni, I started a parody news podcast called Straight Out of the Calabash where I discussed African news in a hilarious way. Then I also started trying to rap. The keyword is “trying” because I was terrible, but I was having fun making them. Then I got interested in films and writing them so my parents encouraged me to enrol at the London Film Academy for a masters in screenwriting. 

Your parents seem supportive of your chosen creative path.

They are. My dad, a lecturer of music at the University of Ibadan, is also a creative, so he understands and encourages my passion for the arts for this reason. We even collaborated on a song together.

What’s your favourite memory of your dad?

It has to be when we made the song together. One time, I came home and asked him to lay down a sax solo for a beat I just made and he agreed. The song named Canada is one of my favourite works because my dad and I were able to come together as creatives and bond over music. When I finished producing the track and played it for him, he sent me a text saying he was proud of me. I felt victorious and happy  I hadn’t let my father down.

Why were you thinking you had let him down?

Well, I felt that way since he tried to make me start playing a musical instrument in childhood, but I just wasn’t interested in it. Also, the way my school issues panned out, I felt that way a lot.

What happened?

I started out studying industrial and production engineering in university, but I hated the course so much. It was boring and I struggled in class. It also didn’t help that my hall of residence was far from my department, and I had to walk all the way because I had crashed my car a few weeks before school resumed. 

One day, I told my mum I didn’t want to do the course anymore. She was sceptical at first because she really wanted me to be an engineer, but she saw that my heart wasn’t in it. So I switched to sociology. I wanted to be a writer and I wanted a course that would give me a good grasp of human society.

You seem closer to your mum.

Yeah. My dad hardly shows emotions and keeps to himself. My mum is more vivacious. She’s also my personal person; we talk freely and I even tell her about the women I’m talking to without expecting to receive an awkward lecture about safe sex and being careful.

My mum is always in my corner encouraging me to do what I’m passionate about. She always tells me she believes in me and my work. She’s been a pillar for most of my life. 

That’s nice. Outside academics, how was university life for you?

There were two parts. Initially, I felt like I was in the shadow of one of my closest friends. He was literally bigger than I was and more popular. Later, I became part of a group of creatives I met at the University of Ibadan called Mad District. We did all sorts — skits, podcasts, videos. That was how my creative journey started. Over time, I sort of became popular and many people knew me. I had a lot of fun during this period.

Then you travelled for film school.

For a while, I didn’t feel like I deserved to be travelling abroad for film school when I had not created a short film. I was worried I would end up disappointing everyone. My former workplace didn’t think I was talented enough to work with them after my NYSC, so why did my parents think I was worthy of going abroad for film school? I had been in proximity to the industry when I worked as a production assistant and nobody had recognised my talent, so I was afraid I didn’t have any.

What happened at the job?

I wasn’t enjoying what I was doing. To be honest, I wasn’t the best employee. Before I got the job, I thought it was going to be an avenue for me to create and go wild, but it turned out that my job was just to carry lights and filming equipment. It was monotonous work. That was when I started making skits and short videos, as a way to purge all the thoughts I had compressed in my head. It was my way of procrastinating.

What are your plans after film school?

I’m romanticising the idea of becoming a staff writer on a TV show in the UK. It’s something I’d really love to do and would be a dream come true. Maybe a movie or two. I’d like to bring Nigerian culture to the big screen and change the narrative that all we have are poor kids with flies on their faces.

How did moving from Nigeria to the UK affect you?

I’ve come to the land where light doesn’t go and the internet flows like water, so it’s been great so far. I’ve been able to create more.

What’s been the most jarring difference between living in Nigeria and the UK?

Cars stop for you to cross and nurses don’t shout at you. 

Lool.

Check back every Sunday by 12 pm for new stories in the Man Like series. If you’d like to be featured or you know anyone that would be perfect for this, kindly send an email.

In most cultures, Nigeria included, the responsibility of initiating interaction between two people in a prospective heterosexual relationship usually rests on the man. But what happens when women take the lead and make the first move? We spoke to four men who tell us about how their women shot their shot.

Sadiq

We met while I was in uni when I had to settle a dispute between her and her class rep. She spoke so well but I didn’t think much of it. We exchanged numbers after we resolved the conflict and kept in touch.

During the Student Union Government elections, she somehow found a shirt that I had lent to a mutual friend and asked me to come to pick it up at her place. That evening, she made yam and egg stew and I left without collecting my shirt. We started talking more frequently after. She’d come to check on me and talk for hours. She’d also send me food and airtime. I was having a great time with her. 

On my birthday, she took me to a mini-mart, bought me drinks and a cake and she took me to her place and we had our own private party. She told me she liked me in a way she couldn’t explain. She told me she wanted me in her life as her backbone. That was how we started dating.

Tunde

On my birthday, a mutual friend posted my picture and tagged me. She slid into my DMs and wished me a happy birthday and asked for her birthday cake. I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time so I gave her the green light. It’s been a beautiful relationship and I’ve loved her even more since then. She’ll never agree that she’s the one who moved to me. The same way she doesn’t want to accept that I love her even more.

Uche 

We had been talking for a couple of months before she asked me out. I felt great because she’s smart, beautiful and I’m incredibly attracted to her. She matches my energy and we vibe perfectly. However, she lives in the North while I’m in the East so I turned her down the first time.

Then she got a boyfriend and she’d rub it in my face any chance she for. We stopped talking for a bit. When we reconnected, she asked me out again and I had no excuses to give. It was obvious we wanted each other very much. Even though distance ended up being an issue, we’ve been together for more than a year. I’ll see her again in January and I can’t wait.

Tony

I met this girl at my workplace. She usually gave me a ride on her way home and dropped me at her stop. She asked me out on a date and it was the best date I had ever had. I found out that she had just gotten out of a relationship, just like me. Because we worked in separate shifts, she’d bring me food. We even once went on a weekend getaway to a hotel and made great love all through.

Two weeks later, a new guy resumed at the office and she started getting closer to him. I noticed that she started picking fights with me and soon after, the relationship died. I still don’t know if we broke up because of the guy. Maybe one day, I’ll know the truth.

What does it mean to be a man? Surely, it’s not one thing. It’s a series of little moments that add up. Man Like is a weekly Zikoko series documenting these moments to see how it adds up. It’s a series for men by men, talking about men’s issues. We try to understand what it means to “be a man” from the perspective of the subject of the week.

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Today’s Man Like is Akabogu Dalu, a 29-year-old finance guy. He talks about wanting to become a boxer, how going broke taught him to prioritise his family and how he has changed since he got married.

What do you do?

I do a lot of interesting things. My day job is working as a private equity portfolio manager and advisory lead. Other times, I trade. I try as much as possible to be in every area of finance. I also make investments in startups. 

Interesting. 

Funny enough, I didn’t see myself ending up in the finance sector when I was growing up. I was a science student so I thought I was going to become a doctor, then I thought I’d be a civil engineer, boxer, and even boxing promoter. I ended up studying finance at the university because I was good at economics.

Boxer? LMAO. How?

I’ve always been obsessed with boxing. I was so good at predicting the winner of a match just by looking at the boxers’ footwork. I became an amateur boxer when I was 19 and was supposed to represent Nigeria at the 2012 Olympics. 

However, I went through a lot in the training camp and to top it all off, my coach demanded about half of the ₦30k stipend the Nigerian Boxing Federation gave me. That’s the moment I knew that boxing in Nigeria wasn’t for me. 

Later that evening, I saw one of my friends on Facebook receiving congratulations for a finance job. That’s when I realised that I wanted to go into finance, after all, I had graduated one of the best in my class in finance. 

What happened next?

I got a job as a corporate banker at a popular commercial bank. It paid me well, but I hated it.

Why?

I wanted to do core finance. But my role as a corporate banker meant that I was just a glorified marketer. Only people who brought in major clients to open accounts were promoted and I wasn’t learning anything. You were only as valuable as the amount of money you could bring in. I was frustrated with the job, even though it paid well according to my standards at the time. My first salary was the biggest amount that had ever entered my account and I made sure to enjoy myself with the money. I was flexing, pursuing women of all shapes and sizes, and clubbing. 

So after three years, I quit the job at the bank after two years. It turned out to be the roughest year of my life.

Omo. How?

That was the year I saw poverty face-to-face. I had saved up four months worth of salary by then and thought that would be enough till I got another job. How wrong I was. I ended up remaining unemployed for almost a year. All the women I was chasing ghosted me. My savings were wiped out. I became so broke, my clothes were becoming rags and I couldn’t afford to eat on some days. I used to use an anonymous account on Twitter to beg for money. That’s how bad it was. 

That must have been so hard. How did you get by?

My younger brother was there for me a lot during that year. He was just a fresh graduate at the time but he did his best to support me. One time, he made ₦10k from sports betting and he gave me half of it. I was moved to tears because when I had money, I hardly took care of him or my family. That was when I realised how much I had not been supportive of my family. They weren’t a priority to me while I was making money because I was focused on myself.

I promised my brother, “When I get my next job, I’m going to become really good at it, make enough money and send you out of this country.”

That was when I realised that at any point in time, the first quadrant of your income should be reserved for people who are/were pivotal to your growth as a person. Always make sure your people are okay. People I thought were my friends ghosted me and the only support I had was my family. 

What happened next?

After a year unemployed, I got another job in an investment house and things started picking up. I said, “This job, I will die here. I will learn everything there is to learn and become incredibly good at it. I’ll make sure I never stay at home unemployed again.” I was always the first to get to the office and the last to leave. I was honing all my skills with the fear of poverty on my mind. I didn’t have a life; I was always on YouTube learning a skill or the other in finance.

From there, I moved to a corporate consulting firm and from there I moved to a private equity firm where I’m currently a Vice President. 

Congratulations, man. What was your game plan?

It was full-on hard work. I’m not the smartest guy, but you can’t outwork me so I used that to my advantage. Now, I’m in a better place financially. I fulfilled the promise I made to my brother and sent him abroad this year. I work hard to make sure I can provide for my support system. If I hadn’t had that tough period in 2016, I probably still wouldn’t have prioritised their welfare the way I do now. 

It’s why I’m equivocal on the black tax conversation. My sisters treat me like their personal ATM and honestly, I don’t mind. I prefer they ask me than ask from some random person outside. I see it as my responsibility, a kind of repayment for all the support they’ve given me. They were pivotal to my development, the least I can give them is my financial support. 

What else do you do?

I’m focused on making money so they never have to want anything. Asides from my day job, I trade stocks, bonds and other risky ventures, like investing in startups. As a younger man, I used to take a lot of risks. I lost a lot of money and I made a lot of money. I used to adhere to the “Go big or go home” principle. I don’t do that as much anymore because now I consider how the decision is going to affect my family before making it. 

What does your family look like?

I have two brothers and two sisters, alongside my mother and father. 

What was growing up like?

It was a decent upbringing. My dad is from a family of spare parts dealers and was also one himself so he swore that none of his kids would end up as a parts dealer. My dad made sure we were properly educated. We were doing fine until our apartment burnt down in 2005 and my father lost all his goods. We were pretty much bankrupt. It was a hard reset for my family.

Sorry to hear about that. How’s your relationship with your dad?

We’re quite distant. I wasn’t close to him because I was scared of him. I can’t tell him certain things I would tell my mom because we didn’t have their relationship. For example, I didn’t tell my dad when I was unemployed but my mom knew and always prayed and encouraged me. 

There was a time she had to undergo surgery and I felt terrible because I was the only one who couldn’t contribute to paying for the procedure. I’m glad that’s all history now.

That’s sad. On to lighter topics. What’s your romantic life like?

Whew. I’m married to the best woman ever.

Congratulations! What’s the most important way you’ve changed as a man since you got married?

On the night of my traditional wedding, I told myself, “See, this woman was on her own, enjoying her life. I convinced her to leave her parents’ house to come and marry her, which means that my only Key Performance Indicator (KPI) is to make sure she’s always happy.” This means my default mode is providing for her emotionally and financially to the best of my abilities.

Marriage also changed my perception of risk. When I was single, I used to make very risky financial moves. Now, I think about the implications my decisions will have on her and my unborn kids.

God when? How do you relax after a long week of work?

I work very hard in a high-pressure environment; about 50-60  hours a week. So I take unwinding very seriously. At least, every two weeks, I get a room in a 5-star hotel and just relax for the weekend. I spend them in the hotel bed watching boxing videos. I also like to laugh on Instagram.

God when?

Lool.

The thing is, life is tough. There are bills to pay and things to be responsible for and on top of all these, you still have to pretend that life is not showing you pepper. It might seem like everything is just spiralling downwards but there are a few things you can do to help you organise your life better, taking you one step towards getting your shit together.

1. Do random stuff

Like going to an art museum. It might seem like a waste of time and money but art just has a way of putting things in perspective. 

2. Manicure your nails

People that are suffering always have rough nails. If your nails are neat and trimmed, it makes it seem like your life is okay.

3. Have a skincare routine

You might be crying as you’re doing your skincare routine every night, but at least you’re doing it.

4. Wear trad.

For some reason, people always think men that wear trad have figured their lives out and have serious money. This is the best way. Wear trad today.

5. Go to the gym regularly

People who go to the gym regularly always seem like they’re doing something right in their lives. At least when they see you sweating on your way back, they’ll know that things are happening with you.

6. Spoil yourself 

Life is tough but try dey enjoy small small. It’s okay to take yourself out to dinner or buy yourself something you’ve always wanted.

What does it mean to be a man? Surely, it’s not one thing. It’s a series of little moments that add up. Man Like is a weekly Zikoko series documenting these moments to see how it adds up. It’s a series for men by men, talking about men’s issues. We try to understand what it means to “be a man” from the perspective of the subject of the week.

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Today’s Man Like is Mayowa “Shutabug” Alabi, a visual artist, videographer, graphic designer and illustrator with the BBC. He talks about experiencing different social classes while growing up, an incident that made it difficult for him to ask for help and the inspiration for his art.

What was growing up like for you?

I like to say I had a bit of two worlds. My parents didn’t want me to be so spoiled that I would be dependent on them but also didn’t want me so close to the streets that I would become wayward.  I would leave Ketu in the morning surrounded by poor students heading to public schools to Baptist Boys College in Obanikoro. I was an ajebutter in Ketu, and never quite fit in at school because I wasn’t rich like my mates. I couldn’t relate to their discussions about their vacation trips abroad or cartoons they had watched on satellite TV.

My parents tried to teach me perspective. They would sometimes send me to my rich uncle’s house for the holiday so I didn’t feel too out of place with more privileged people. I went to fancy restaurants and had lunch on cruise ships.

I also spent time with my cousins in Bariga where I got close and personal to the “street life.” I loved it for how relaxing and dangerous it was. I got the freedom to buy street food and go to game centres.

Combining the experiences taught me how to navigate Lagos, regardless of which side of the divide I interact with. I guess I found a way to balance both.

What were the finances in your home like?

In the words of M.I, we didn’t grow up poor but we didn’t grow up rich. I was an only child so I didn’t lack basic needs.  I guess it was easy for them to raise me. There were days when getting by was a struggle but my parents made sure I didn’t lack basic needs.

How was your relationship with your parents?

Growing up, I was closer to my dad than my mum because I felt like she didn’t understand me— my dad just seemed more in tune with me than my mom. As we grew older, we began to find common ground on issues.  

There was an incident that drove a wedge between my parents and me for a long time.

What happened?

Growing up, I didn’t demand much. But in my final year in secondary school, I really wanted an Xbox. Things were going well for my family, so I told my parents that if I passed my WAEC exams really well, they would buy me an Xbox. They agreed.

Because WAEC results don’t get released until later in the year, my school used a mock WAEC exam to determine awardees at the speech and prize-giving day. Unfortunately, I hadn’t paid much attention to the mock examination because I was working super hard on my exams on WAEC. My parents were disappointed that I didn’t win any prize, and they felt I was smart enough to get at least one award, even if it was in Yoruba. They said they weren’t buying me the Xbox like they promised. I was gutted. It didn’t matter that later on in the year when the WAEC result came out and I did really well —  they didn’t keep to our agreement. It was at the point I determined that I would never rely on them for anything I wanted. I had to find a way to make money.

Omo. What did you do?

I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. When I got out of secondary school, I didn’t enter the university immediately because I wanted to study law but I was offered English education instead. During that year, I started learning graphic design.

And then?

I still didn’t get into law the following year. This time, I was offered political science, and I took it. 

It was a depressing period for me. But I think if I wasn’t studying political science, I wouldn’t have been able to find my dream career as an artist. I’d probably be somewhere saying “My lord” to a judge in a stuffy wig and gown if I had gotten law like I wanted.

I was getting money from designing flyers in Unilag for 2k-5k. In my third year, I got a job with Co-Creation Hub (CCHUB), where I worked for six years.

What did your parents think?

They didn’t know until my final year. I was getting a salary and an allowance. I was balling every month, ordering stuff from ASOS. During the holidays, I would ask to go back to the hostel. I said I wanted to go and study for the new semester, but the truth was I just wanted to be able to go to work. They found out about it in my final year, and I think they were relieved because they didn’t want me to be job hunting after school 

Six years after joining CCHUB, I left and became a freelance artist. 

Where do you get inspiration for your art from?

Frankly, I copy. It comes from looking at other people’s work and thinking, “If this artist can do this, I should give it a shot.” This doesn’t mean that I rip off the artist. I just want to see what the process would feel like. At the end of it, a distinct style comes out. I do that to make sure I never run out of ideas.

The inspiration for my art comes from Lagos. I used to use public transport a lot — danfos and BRTs. And every so often, I’d happen on an interesting scenario like a fight after two cars had brushed each other. My art gives me an opportunity to explore things I feel strongly about. 

Like what?

Independence. I’m an only child, so I’ve been on my own right from the jump. I’m used to doing things on my own. 

The Xbox incident with my parents also made it difficult for me to ask for help, from them or anyone else. People think I’m standoffish or snobbish because I like to do things on my own. I’m learning to manage to ask and receive help when I need it.

I hope you do. What are your plans for the future?

In the short term, I’m trying to stack up enough cash so I can focus on my long-term plan, establishing art schools in Nigeria. A lot of focus is placed on technical subjects like medicine and engineering with little attention paid to the arts. There’s a lot of artistict talent in Nigeria that just needs to be nurtured.

That’s interesting. When you’re trying to relax from work, what do you do?

On some days, I’m either sleeping, watching something on Netflix or playing video games. On others, I’m just talking to a friend.

Check back every Sunday by 12 pm for new stories in the Man Like series. If you’d like to be featured or you know anyone that would be perfect for this, kindly send an email.

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