Hassan Yahaya, Author at Zikoko! | Page 3 of 54

A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week.

The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a social media influencer with over 100k followers on social media. They talk to us about remaining anonymous despite their fame, undercharging for their services and the anxiety that comes with the job.

MONDAY:

The first thought on my mind when I wake up today is that if I didn’t have to work to earn a living, I’d probably not be doing my day job. I only show up because of the money.

Left to me, I’d spend my time living out my imaginations. Instead, I have to pretend like I’m normal and resume every day at a 9-5. During the day I’m the team lead at a digital media startup. At night, I’m a wildling on my personal account with over 100k followers on Twitter, [a little] less than 100k on Instagram and a newsletter with almost 10k subscribers.

My day job stresses me because of how professional it is. As someone with a wild imagination, I don’t find it fun. At work, I want to replicate ideas from the playbook of my personal account but every idea is met with “consider the brand image.”

Even on my personal account, when brands reach out, they like what they see but still always decide to play it safe.

Over time, this pushback has made my personal account the only place I can write the things I enjoy. I love the fact that my thoughts have a home and a receptive audience. What I don’t like is that it doesn’t generate enough money to survive and hence the need for a double life.

This afternoon I got a message that triggered me. Someone came to my DM telling me to always run my content by a team so I can know whether it’s good or bad. For someone who spends all day running content by people at my day job, I was like nope. I thought, “my personal account works because it’s 100% out of pocket and unfiltered me.”

Once I start running content by people, it’s no longer me. And if an idea doesn’t work, I’m going to blame myself for running it by another person. However, as a solo creator, I’m free to experiment as I like.

One of my biggest fears is getting to the point where I no longer recognize my work. With that resolve, I replied to the message: “thank you very much for the advice. I’ll look into it.”

TUESDAY:

No one knows what I look like. At least not the bulk of my followers; my day ones have seen my face. Initially, I decided to be anonymous because the more content I put out, the bigger my personal account got. And I was tired of people saying my face didn’t match my writing whenever they landed on my page, so I removed all my photos. However, over time, anonymity became a necessity for me.

At first, I realised I was insecure about my looks so I decided to grow into them without external influence. I didn’t want to post a picture and have people validate my looks. Next, I thought it was cool to be in the shadows on social media where everyone is constantly putting their face or business out there.

The upside? On good days, like today, I have at least 20 people in my DM begging to know what I look like. People pleading and swearing, earnestly, on their parents’ lives that they won’t share my photos. My answer? “No, I’m not sending.” Although, listening to people beg is like doing drugs because of how intoxicating and powerful it feels. It also helps that I’m aware of the power I hold so I tease and draw out people’s curiosity as much as I can. Some days I’ll post a picture of just my hand or my legs. Other days, I’ll post a full photo of me but covered with a smiley or with my face blurred out. It’s so much fun!

The only downside of enjoying anonymity is that I don’t cash out. If someone with my level of influence who shows their face goes out, they’d receive favours I wouldn’t receive, mostly because they’re famous. But no one knows me. Even if I told them I was the person behind my account, they wouldn’t believe it. Therefore, I’d beg for things I ordinarily wouldn’t have to beg for if I showed my face.

However, the peace of mind from being anonymous is sufficient for me. There’s no pressure for me to keep up appearances or put on a show — and I love that for me.

WEDNESDAY:

Today makes it three days since I last posted on my Twitter account. My mental health is shit, my anxiety is at an all-time high and my self-esteem is at the lowest. Yay.

As a creator with a large following, sooner or later the pressure gets to you. You’re always thinking about numbers: how many retweets did this post get, how many likes, how many quotes? Who shared it? Was it reposted on Instagram and WhatsApp statuses? This obsession puts pressure on you to create fun stuff for the audience so you rush your process. Then it doesn’t bang. Now the numbers are bad and you feel like shit because low numbers are bad for your brand’s business. It’s twice as bad because you can see how other creator’s content are banging in real-time. After a while, doubt starts to creep in.

But when your content bangs —my God! You feel unstoppable. God now help you that you’re on a roll. The type where you tweet the most random thing and it bangs. You quote a tweet and you get 4k retweets. Your reply to a tweet gets 2k likes. That kind of constant real-time validation and gratification is a drug you become addicted to.

As someone who has recently come down from that high, the lows are dealing with me. I’m thinking about how my retweets gradually started reducing from 4,000 to 2,000 to 1,000 and then 500 on a good day. I think reality fully hit me when I got to 500. At that point, it was as if I was relocating from Banana Island to Ikorodu and that affected me badly.

It has taken some affirmations to slowly climb out of it. Every day I remind myself that my worth as a human being is not tied to whether or not my tweets bang. Regardless of what happens, I’m still the same person. I’m still that talented person with room for growth.

In the long term, I know this will pull me out of my mental and emotional chokehold. However, short term, my strategy is to keep avoiding my stressors — most especially Twitter.

THURSDAY:

People always ask me if being an influencer is profitable. The answer is both yes and no. If you’re like me that charged two thousand naira for my first advert, you’re already doing it wrong. Mind you, I had 5,000 followers then. When I got to almost 10k followers I increased my rate to ₦10,000 for adverts.

Every time someone paid me I’d promise to deliver the best work of their life. Looking back, I realise that at every follower milestone I’d increase my rates but still did not make bank.

It wasn’t until today that I realised the reason for my weird relationship with money. The pay at the first company I worked for was shitty so I thought I deserved shit. I was being paid around ₦50,000 to make 90 content items in a month. In my head, ₦10,000 per content item promotion was a good deal for me. And this is how I approached my rates as my follower count grew.

With money, I’m just reaching a point where I can charge the least I deserve, especially for someone at my level of influence. It has taken me months of talking with many people to see that I don’t deserve to earn shit.

Later today, I’ll test out my new resolution on a client I’m talking to. I’m going to multiply my current rate by two. If I die, I die, but I’m no longer accepting rubbish. Thank you very much!

Influencing can be mad profitable if you maximise the opportunities you get. But it’s also short-lived. If you don’t reinvent yourself, another person will come up, do what you’re doing and take your spot.

FRIDAY:

I finally posted on Twitter today. It wasn’t my best work but I’ll take it like that. I’m trying to show up regardless of how I feel. The more work I put out, the more I increase the probability of something clicking.

It’s just difficult shaking off the feeling that it’s been a while since my content surprised people and that’s messing with me. This weekend, I plan to explore new content formats, think up possible collaborations with fellow creatives, and maybe even consider publishing a book.

I hate how creativity can be so hard yet so simple, but I won’t give up. I’ll cry when I need to cry and laugh when it comes.

I know that there’s potential in the business and I’m going to tap into it. One thing I know is that the first step to blowing is knowing your worth. A lot of people think I have money but I don’t because it has taken so long to realise my worth. If you see yourself as trash, this industry is not kind and will treat you accordingly.

Thankfully, things are changing for me. My goal right now is to earn enough from influencing gigs so I can quit my day job. If I play my cards right that day could come sooner than expected. Until then, my plan for today is to open Slack and dance to the tunes of my capitalist employer.

I can’t wait for today to end.

Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.
A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week.

The subject of today’s “AWITL” used to be a professional hockey player but that didn’t work out. Now, he’s a driver on Uber. He talks about using his rent money to pay for the car he drives, living out of his car, and trusting God for his future.

MONDAY:

The only person that can make my car go anywhere on Monday is God. Outside of him, no matter what’s happening, my car no dey leave where I park am on Monday.

Monday is my day off because I can’t come and kill myself. I chose this day because it’s normally tight and everyone in Lagos is rushing. While people are on the road struggling, I’m resting. And while they’re resting, I’m working. I’ve scheduled my timetable such that I work from Tuesday to Sunday and I’m okay with it.

As a result, I spent my time today washing my car and clothes — just chilling.

Thankfully, I’m not married nor do I have children so nobody disturbs me.

After finishing my tasks, I find something to put in my stomach and sleep. In the evening, I warm my car and check the oil and water levels.

At night, I mentally start preparing for work tomorrow. By 9 p.m., I’m asleep.

TUESDAY:

On the days I’m working, I wake up by 3 a.m. and resume work at 4 a.m.

Why? Because this country no balance. The earlier I start hustling, the more money I can make and the more I avoid holdup.

It’s hard being a driver because everything is against you: Lagos traffic, passengers, bad roads and even yourself. This morning, my body refused to cooperate at 3:00 a.m. so I woke up around 3:55 a.m. The first thing I did after waking up was to brush my teeth and go online on the driver’s app. Because I was late, there was no time to baff.

My first rider was going to Iyana-Ipaja so I cancelled the trip. Around this time, I only go to areas I’m familiar with. The next order was somewhere around Surulere so I accepted the trip. My procedure before picking a passenger in the morning is to call them to gauge their voice. If my spirit doesn’t like their voice, I cancel the trip. If they sound okay, I move.

In this life, you can’t be too careful. Last last we’re all in the hands of God but you also have to play your own part. Them still dey kill person wey get 1,000 security guards talkless of me that I’m alone. The only belief I have any time I go out is that God is with me. Apart from that, it’s purely instinct.

After hearing the passenger’s voice, I went to pick them. I dropped them and did four more trips until around 7:00 a.m. when traffic started to build.

By this time, I had made some money so I decided to go have a bath. After that, my day properly began.

WEDNESDAY:

I’m looking at my account balance and I’m not happy. I’m doing hire purchase — instalment payments — for this car and after delivering money to my boss today, my account is empty.

I’m tired because I used the ₦200,000 I wanted to rent a house with to pay the initial deposit for this car. Now, the car has also become my house. I can’t pay rent and I don’t have money. But people will see me driving a car and be jealous.

They don’t know that my experience be like season film; too many things are happening.

Every night, I go to my former area to park because I know it’s secure. I open my car windows and push my front seat down so I can lie on it. That’s how I’ve been sleeping every night for the past two months and I never die.

When I wake up in the morning, I go to my former house to use their toilet and bath before starting my day. Sometimes, I use the toilet inside banks or hotels.

I know that all this managing is just for a while. At least, until I finish paying for the car. No be say I dey lazy, na favour just never set.

THURSDAY:

Today, I blame myself for being Nigerian. As you’re seeing me, I’m a professional hockey player with Lagos State. In fact, I also used to play football but I ran away because there was no money in it. In hockey, at least we used to get some stipends to hold body. If the government invested in athletics maybe I wouldn’t be a driver.

I’ve played many hockey tournaments from Lagos to Abuja. I’ve also won many medals and done a lot of training, yet, nothing to show for it. Last year, I was in training camp for almost twelve months before COVID-19 struck. That’s how all our plans scattered. To make matters worse, our executives embezzled our money. That’s how I suddenly found myself stranded.

At that point, I had to tell everyone: “bro, captain, coach, I don’t want to train again. Don’t bother yourself calling me for camp. Don’t try it because I’m not doing again. When I’m financially stable, I’ll start my training again. Until then, nobody should call me.”

All my talent is just wasting. I blame myself for being born in this type of country.

FRIDAY:

I don’t mind driving because the work is okay. Sometimes you meet passengers who’ll treat you like a human being and relate with you. Other times, you’ll see the ones that will talk to you anyhow or insult you.

I take both of them with my chest. Na me know wetin I dey find and I have a goal. My biggest drive is that one day I’ll make it and become somebody in life. I no dey even think am too much because I know it’s for sure. That’s why I start today by praying and telling Baba God that he’s now in charge of my life. Me, I’m not doing again.

My problems may be bigger than me, but them no big pass God. The main thing on my mind is how I’ll pay off the ₦2.5M on my hire purchase. There’s also rent to think of after that one. Even if it’s a room self-contained, I’ll manage. There’s nothing like sleeping in your own house, on your own bed, under your own roof. Nothing beats having your own toilet to shit in without restrictions. Me, I’m not going to kill myself with overthinking. With the way I’m hustling I know I have no choice but to blow one day.

I’m turning 32 this year and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that this life no balance at all. But my own must balance.

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A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week.

The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a freelance product designer. He earns in forex while living in Nigeria. He talks to us about navigating time zone differences, landing foreign clients, and his battles with a sedentary lifestyle.

MONDAY:

Unlike most Lagosians, my day begins in the evening. I’m awake when people are asleep and I’m asleep when people are awake.

Work typically starts at 3 p.m. for me and ends around midnight or early morning. I’m a product designer in Nigeria working with a foreign company, so my sleep pattern is ruined.

As long as I’m getting paid in forex, I don’t mind.

It’s wild that I got into this life because of an Instagram message. I had just quit my job, was running on vibes and panicking when an acquaintance texted, “Hey, do you want to work for a foreign company?” You’d have been worried if you saw the way I jumped at the offer. It was so bad that I didn’t negotiate with my employer. The speed and casualness with which he agreed to my initial price told me I had sold myself short.

For me, the prospect of earning in dollars was simply too good to be true. I had just quit a job without a plan and here I was. Now, I know I could have bargained better, but that’s all past.

These days, every working hour is paid for. Although, I try to strike a balance — I don’t work more than 12 hours during the week, and if I can help it, I don’t work on the weekends.

Since I work in a different time zone, I also try to use my mornings to relax. I use the time my oga is sleeping to get a few things done. Like today, I woke up at 11 a.m. The first thing I did was stretch a little. Then I replied to messages from the night before and tried to skip. Around noon, I had a light breakfast and napped.

By 3 p.m., I was feeling very rested and ready to seize the day.

TUESDAY:

The first thing I said when I woke up this morning was “God forbid bad thing.” I had a nightmare that I was back to earning in naira. If you see the speed I woke up with ehn.

I’m saying God forbid bad things for a couple of reasons. Beyond the better pay — which is important — foreign jobs give superb feedback. Any small thing, they’ll throw words of affirmation at you: you’re beautiful, your design is great. In fact, my employer says I’m the best in the world. I’m usually like, “Okay sir, if you insist.”

You can move mountains and some Nigerian employers may not acknowledge it. To them, you’re being paid a salary so do your work. Being appreciated alone is a big win in my books.

Another good thing — and I’m not shading anyone — is the developers I work with. They are beasts. You give them your design, and they implement it exactly as it is. Whew!

There’s less back and forth between designers and the developers, and they actually listen to me because it’s my field. Also, they trust that I know what I’m saying — wow.

I had a nice meeting with the tech team at work today. Although I started the day feeling low on energy, the feedback from the conversation I had with them gingered me. I’d thought I was going to get through my day doing the barest minimum, but now, I’m inspired to do more.

It feels very relaxing to work in an environment where I’m valued and my work is appreciated. Naturally, it makes me want to go above and beyond.

My goal for this week, as with every other week, is to finish all my tasks before the weekend so I can relax. I won’t be caught dead in front of a laptop if Chelsea is playing, or if my guys are outside balling.

WEDNESDAY:

People come up to me every time asking how they can land foreign jobs. I tell them the same thing: exposure.

You have to put yourself out there. That’s the major difference between being good and being seen. The sweet spot is having the skill and being visible. There are many good designers out there, but no one knows them.

I make sure to always update my portfolio and my LinkedIn page. I’m always shooting out cold emails. I’ve come a long way from posting my designs primarily on Instagram to using LinkedIn. Regardless of what platform you use, it’s important you put yourself out there.

Today, I already sent out a cold email on LinkedIn and started a conversation. It works for me because I also have the experience to back it up. I tell newbies in the game to document their process. Beyond daily challenges, explain the problems you identified and why you decided to redesign an existing app that works perfectly.

Once you can state a problem and explain how you arrived at a solution, you’re almost there. The next step is to share widely and add to your portfolio. These are the things you’ll send as proof when reaching out to foreign companies.

Another thing that’s important to note is that if you’re not using platforms like Upwork and co, it’s always advisable to ask for a down payment before doing any work. These streets are dangerous and you don’t want to say “I thy known”.

Personally, I’ve not had any bad experience and to God be the glory. If someone runs me street, I can just start crying.

THURSDAY:

As the week comes to a close, I’m not as exhausted as I usually am. In fact, this is the first week I’m not actively looking forward to the weekend. Weekends are sacred for me because that’s when I get to spend all the money I’ve been making.

If I work long hours during the week, the weekend is to spend the money made from that time.

I overheard some people talking about how they had no plans for the weekend, and it made me flashback to a year ago. The difference between then and now is massive. Now, I dey ball die. When people stylishly ask me what has changed, I tell them to ask me straight and not go through the corners — life is good. Dollars is sweet.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the dollar to the naira exchange rate is high. I don’t know whether to thank the government or to curse them. But oh my God.

Beyond the financial aspect, I’m also not on the same level skill-wise as I was last year. Global exposure has sharpened my skill. Every day, I’m improving my craft.

I’m grateful to be able to provide for myself and my family, but I’m scared that Nigeria can unravel the false safety I feel at any point. I’m comfortable here, but there’s no infrastructure. Terrible roads, no hospitals, no security. It’s scary that if anything happens to me in Nigeria, money can’t save me.

All in all, I recognise my privilege and don’t rub it in people’s faces. The country is in shambles and doesn’t work; I’m lucky and not special.

But there’s only so much luck I can have, that’s why I’m also planning japa.

FRIDAY:

Ladies and gentlemen, the weekend is here. The best two days of the week where we’re free from the reach of capitalism.

I’m happy that the weekend is here for two reasons: one is that I’m not working. The other is that I finally get to set up my home gym. One of the casualties of working from home has been my stomach. Before now, I didn’t have a potbelly, but working from home has changed that. And it’s so difficult getting myself to exercise. I try to stretch but succeed at that maybe once a week.

When God touches my heart, I jog maybe once a month. I hate that shit so much because it’s so tasking. However, being active is now a top priority for me. It’s so easy to get lazy and die because you’re sitting down at home chasing money.

My health has taken a toll because of this lifestyle: I sleep at odd hours, I have a potbelly, I take supplements because I’m indoors all day, and I don’t eat healthily. I also spend a lot of time staring at a screen.

I hope that in a few years from now, I can break out of this freelance life. Maybe I’ll get some respite then. I hope to be the one employing freelancers or I’m in a reputable company earning internationally competitive rates regardless of where I live. Maybe if I’m still in Nigeria by then, $1 will be worth ₦1,000…

But all that one is future thinking, I have pending problems in the present. Today, I’ve made up my mind to go and buy dumbbells and floor rolls for exercise. This will join my skipping rope and exercise mat. Little by little, my home gym is coming to life. I must not die before I reach the future of my dreams.

Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.
This quiz is the only way to separate the clean people from the gross people.

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Tick everything that applies to you:

You’ve sniffed your armpit to see if it stinks

You’ve gone the whole weekend without having your bath

You’ve enjoyed the Eau de parfum from your fart

You’ve cleaned your ears with your fingers and smelled it after

You’ve soaked clothes for longer than a few hours

You’ve urinated in the shower

You’ve left dirty plates in the sink for days

You’ve cleaned dirt from your fingernails using your other fingernails

You’ve cleaned your ear with a match stick or biro cover

You’ve used someone else’s tooth brush

You’ve picked your nose and looked at your hand

You’ve used your barber’s hair comb and brush

You’ve used a single bedsheet for one month

You’ve eaten on the bed

You’ve eaten food off the floor

Begged for food and ate with another person’s spoon

Slept after a haircut without having a bath

Slept with make up on

You’ve smelled your socks to see if they were clean

You’ve enjoyed bursting your pimples

You’ve enjoyed bursting other people’s pimples

You’ve scratched and peeled off an old wound

You’ve gone weeks without washing your underwear

You got #{score}/#{total}
You’re either very clean or a liar living a fake life.
You got #{score}/#{total}
You’re still upcoming in this game. Next rated on these iyama streets.
You got #{score}/#{total}
You’re half in and half out. Better make up your mind before the Nigerian government bans fence sitters.
You got #{score}/#{total}
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A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week.

The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a club hostess and waitress. Club hostesses help clients with reservations and carry out bottles with sparklers when people buy expensive drinks. Our subject talks about the stereotype associated with her job, balancing school and work, and some of the most expensive drinks she has served.

FRIDAY:

I feel lucky that I have a job because I can’t imagine how I’d cope without one. A little back story: I’m currently living in Akure because of school and outside of classes, I have nothing to do. A typical day for me usually involves class, hostel, class, hostel, rinse and repeat.

With a job in the mix, I’m happy there’s finally some variety: class, hostel, work, rinse and repeat. Keeping a job as a student requires constant moving around of my schedule. Some days, I go from work to class. On other days, it’s from class to work.

Today, I’m going from the lab to work. School ends at 4 p.m., and I have to prepare for work at 6 p.m. The club officially opens at 9:30 p.m. but resumption time is 6 p.m.

I work as a hostess in a club and I like to call it waitressing pro-max — if such a name exists.

My job is to go to work, be on my best behaviour, look beautiful, put on a smile and welcome customers. It’s also my job to show them to their table and make them comfortable. On nights where we have a full house, I also substitute as a waitress and help serve drinks.

The part of my job I love the most is seeing people buy expensive drinks, hey Jesus! Dorime things. When I’m hyping the person popping drinks by dancing and carrying lights, I’m constantly reminding myself that if the drink falls, I’m finished. Some of these drinks cost more than my annual salary. I haven’t gotten used to seeing people casually spend millions of naira on alcohol in one night.

But, I try not to visibly show my shock because the show must go on.

School is currently in session, so my work schedule has changed from every day to only Friday to Sunday. From 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. Although, I still find myself working during the week because work is fun and my co-workers feel like family.

SATURDAY:

Midnight of Friday/Saturday morning:

I resumed work at 6 p.m. yesterday. I barely made it to work on time because I overslept when I got to the hostel. It took the grace of God for me to jump up when I did and I rushed to work.

The first thing I did at work was to eat the cereal I packed. Next, I started making reservations for guests coming later at night when we fully opened. At some point, I helped the barman take inventory and plan the drinks for the night. When I was tired, I went to a restaurant in the same building as the club to chill.

At 9 p.m., I went to change. I was torn between a red dress with a thigh slit and a plain black round neck shirt. I almost chose the red dress, but I remembered that the last time I wore it, a man pointed at my nipple, another slapped my butt and one couldn’t stop staring at my breasts — even though they aren’t that big. And so, the plain black round neck won.

3 a.m.

I’ve been by the door welcoming guests all night. In that time, I and the other hostesses have danced up to five times for people popping drinks. I’ve also worn a mask to hide my face during those five times because I’m shy.

In this same night, I’ve also gotten offers from people who say they want to fuck me. One even offered to triple my monthly salary if I go home with him. Wonders shall never end.

4:00 a.m.

The alcohol has finally kicked in. The DJ’s playlist is fire. People have stopped coming in and now I’m catching my own fun.

5:00 a.m.

I’m not doing again. I’m tired. These people should come and be going home.

6:00 a.m.

God. These people are still here dancing and partying. Don’t they want us to go home? Are they not tired? I’m tired.

I miss my bed.

7:00 a.m.

Finally, the last customer just left. Thank you, Jesus!

Noon

Nobody can separate me from this bed. Not food, not water, not even phone calls. I want to sleep till tomorrow if I can.

5 p.m.

I can’t believe I have to get up for work. This adulthood is very somehow because someone can’t even relax. Just work every day until you die.

SUNDAY:

Midnight of Saturday/Sunday morning

Tonight has been uneventful. People are coming in much slower than usual and the energy on the dance floor is off. With the kind of evening I had when I got to work, I’m glad things are slow now.

For the longest time, I’ve suspected that people view so-called “club girls” differently. However, today’s incident proved me right.

The owner of the club I work in owns a hotel within the building our office is in, and I chill at the hotel’s bar and restaurant all the time. Yesterday, [male] friends from my school came to lodge in our hotel. That’s how I went to say hi to them because these are friends I had before starting this job.

As I was leaving their room to start work, I heard someone say, “she has gone to do the job they hired her for. The job of fucking customers.”

My heart dropped, my palms and face were covered in sweat, and I was speechless.

It’s somehow when people just stereotype you. Club girl doesn’t mean she fucks around. Club girl doesn’t mean she’s for sale or wants your money. Club girl doesn’t mean she’s not a person; she’s a human being too.

Last last this work is not for everyone because if you don’t have sense they’ll run you streets.

3 a.m.

The last customer just left, so we’re done for the day. However, according to our contract, we can’t leave until 6:00 a.m. Everyone is either sleeping or about to sleep. I can’t because my body is already used to sleeping during the day.

To pass time, I try to match drinks to their prices. We have:

— Hennessy Paradis. We sell for ₦1M and people buy it like pure water.

— Azul costs ₦400k and is decent.

— Ace of Spades is ₦450k.

— Hennessy xo is ₦350k. Same price as Remy XO. Dom Perignon is around ₦300 – ₦350k too.

— Don Julio is ₦400k.

— Then we have the Moet family which costs ₦65k. This is in the same category as Hennessy VSOP.

— We sell Glenfiddich between ₦65 – ₦85k too.

— Our Ciroc goes for ₦45,000

There’s a drink for everybody.

6:00 a.m.

Finally, my watch has ended. I’m going home to sleep all day. I’m grateful that my colleagues told me to go home while they stayed back to balance the account and clean up.

MONDAY:

6:00 a.m.

The only thing powering me this morning is energy drinks. Last night was so busy that you’ll never have imagined that the next day was Monday. Customers were everywhere, so I barely had time to rest. To make things worse, my first class starts at 8:00 a.m. today and attendance is compulsory.

I have to do everything in my power to not touch my bed. Anything that makes me lie down small, that’s the end. I’m gone. I just need to manage till 2 p.m. when school ends for today. I don’t know how I’ll survive the lectures, but the first step is getting to school in one piece.

It’ll soon be a year since I started doing this job. It’s funny how this job started as a way to keep busy and earn passive income after the lockdown was eased, and school was still closed. Now, it’s something I’ve come to enjoy. Beyond that, I’m really grateful I have a job I enjoy that occupies my time.

As a student, there’s no greater feeling than knowing I have my own money. I don’t depend on anyone for anything: I see something, I like it, and I save for it. Apart from the occasional harassment, this is a job I enjoy doing.

I can’t imagine what my life would be like if I had nothing to do.

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A Week in the Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week.

The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is Enoch Adegoke. He’s a track athlete who represented Nigeria at the Tokyo Olympics. He tells us about the challenges of being an athlete in Nigeria, how Nigerian athletes make money and why he’s trusting God for his future.

MONDAY:

I have trouble staying asleep. On some level, my body still thinks I’m in Nigeria even though I’ve been in Tokyo for a week plus. That’s why I’m up by 5:00 a.m. today. A typical day involves waking up at 5 or 6 a.m., doing my morning devotion, having breakfast, then leaving for training at 10 a.m. Training usually ends at 1 or 2 p.m. and I return to the athlete’s hostel to rest.

However, today is different. It’s a struggle to get out of bed. My body just wants to sleep, but I remind myself that I’m not here to play. I push myself up.

In the one week that I’ve spent here, I’ve met athletes from different countries, and one thing that strikes me is that most athletes are supported by either a sports brand or their country.

In the last race I qualified for, I noticed I was the only person on the track without support from Nike, Puma or any other big brand. For me, outside of a little support here and there, I’m mostly on my own in this competition.

In fact, I know say na God hand I dey.

On some level, I know that we’re all equal; at least on paper. That is, we’re all Olympians who qualified for the Olympics final. Now it’s up to each of us to bring out what’s inside us on the track.

Some people will see others with a lot of support and feel bad, but I don’t. I look on the bright side. I’m here at the Olympics, the greatest stage in the world, and if nothing, I’ll market my name and brand. I mean, it’ll be nice for someone to sponsor me so I can focus fully on training and my form, but what can I do?

In between thinking of money and pressure from home because they sent me to school yet I’m running up and down, it’s not been easy. But all glory be to God.

I’m working very hard because, in Nigeria, no one recognizes you until you make it to the top. With that in mind, I stand up, pray to God and commit the rest of my day in his hands. He has brought me this far and he can’t fail me. Not now.

TUESDAY:

On the bus to training today, I’m thinking about my journey. It’s unbelievable that I once prayed to be here today.

This journey started from my days running for my school team in O.A.U. I’d go from hostel to training to class. Sometimes, training would even take out of class time. I remember running to class after training just to mark attendance or sleep off in the class. On some days, my body would give up and I’d just go to the hostel to sleep.

Occasionally, I’d leave school to try out for the national team or represent Nigeria, and it was on me to make it work. Even when the school gave exeat, I still had to manage my tests and exams — after all, I’m the one who wanted a career beyond university.

I missed a lot of classes and exams then. I had an experience with a lecturer who said even though I was excused from classes, I didn’t make attendance, and there was nothing he could do. I ended up having a carryover that semester.

Looking back, a lot of the reason I scaled through school was because of God’s grace and crash reading. It was so difficult combining training, classes and other activities. I don’t even know how I coped. That I’m here today is not even by my power. There are a lot of people who have invested in my journey. From my family and friends to my coach, to everyone who has wished me well. It’s a double miracle because, for the first time in 25 years, Nigeria is in a track event final. And also, at my first Olympics outing, I qualified for the finals.

I’m hoping that when I run on Thursday I can make everyone proud.

WEDNESDAY:

There are two ways to make money as an athlete. You either represent Nigeria in competitions and save all your allowances or you get a side job.

The first option is not sustainable because injuries are a part of an athlete’s life. That’s why sponsorship is supposed to be there to help your finances so you can focus on recovery. But this is Nigeria and nobody is sponsoring track athletes so we’re working round the clock. You’re injured and you’re thinking about where you’ll get money to pay rent or pay for training gear.

If you’re not injured and you don’t qualify to represent Nigeria, you’ll have to find a side job. When you’re supposed to be resting and preparing for a comeback, you’ll have to find physical labour to do. As an athlete, you’re always thinking about money — even when you’re supposed to be resting.

The truth is that combining side hustles with athletics is very hard. It’s a necessary evil though because when you tell people you’re broke and you’re a runner, they immediately tag you as unserious. Only a few people understand the importance of sports in Nigeria.

I remember when I got into debt because of some investments that crashed. Omo, it took grace for me not to break down. At some point, I even started to doubt myself because all I could think of was the money I lost. To worsen things, I had not yet met up to the Olympic standards yet so I had other worries on my mind.

Thankfully, God used the Edo state government and the minister of sport to make things a bit easy for me. However, I’m still not completely clear. I still need some money so I can reinvest back into training. But I can’t be thinking of all that today. I have a big day tomorrow.

My plan today is simple: eat, train, pray and sleep. Tomorrow we make history by the special grace of God.

THURSDAY:

Omo. Today was devastating for me.

One minute I was in the race, the next, I had pulled my hamstring and that was it. Over. Just like that.

I cried inside. I kept asking why this happened now? At the finals of all places. The medical team examined me and on my way to camp I kept on consoling myself. I didn’t brood for too long because I know God understands better.

I know the best will come out of what has happened. As someone who has a personal fellowship with God, I recognise the importance of putting God in anything I do. After all, it’s still God and my training that brought me this far.

My consolation is that for a minute I gave hope to Nigerians. I felt proud hearing people call my name all over the internet. At least, some people know that there’s one Enoch Adegoke, from O.A.U, that represented Nigeria in the track finals.

It’s not much but it’s comforting. I only pray that this Olympics opens more doors beyond this competition.

FRIDAY:

“MRI scan, hamstring injury, rehabilitation, physiotherapist” — these are some of the words I’ve been hearing today.

I started rehabilitation with the Nigerian medical team. They’ve been trying their best and that’s comforting. It also helps that the minister of sports promised that the government would take care of our medical bills. I’m trusting God that they’ll fulfil their promise.

It’s still one step at a time to recovery. I’m supposed to eat certain types of food on my recovery journey, but as I don’t have a nutritionist, I’m on my own. I’ll Google what I can and for the rest, I can’t kill myself.

2021 started with me being unsure about everything. But I prayed earnestly and didn’t allow doubt to stop me. All through my training for the Olympics, one thing was always on my mind: I’ll meet up with the standard for the competition.

It’s the same way I’m praying and believing my recovery will be smooth.

The future is bright. If I was able to come this far without a lot of support, I know I can do more with it. I have back to back games from 2022 – 2025 and I’m positive that with the right push I can win medals and attract a lot of goodwill.

I want to change the orientation of sports in Nigeria through my craft. People need to pay attention to other sports outside of football.

If I was in a different country, I know things would be different now. I feel like I’ve gotten marketed during the Olympics but I’m holding my breath for what comes next. I have no answer.

All I can do is trust God that one way or the other, I’ll find favour.

Editor’s note: Enoch represented Nigeria at the track Olympics final, Nigeria’s first in 25 years.

Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week in the Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill out this form.
A Week in the Life is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week.

The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a security guard. He talks about being intimidated because of his job, forfeiting 50% of his salary to security companies and spending all his time at work. He also talks about his plans to escape it all.

MONDAY:

The first thing to do when I wake up na to thank my God because I no know wetin happen for night. And things dey occur. After thanking God for protection, all other things follow — bath, brush and toilet. By 6 a.m. sharp, I don pull boots to wear and my day begins.

I work one week on and one week off. The week I’m on duty, like today, I run 24-hour shifts. This morning, the first thing I do is to walk around the compound to clear sleep from my eyes. In this job, I only get to sleep at night but last night was rough.

Our small and tight security room with only one window was hot like an oven because NEPA took light. As a result, I had to carry my mosquito net and bed outside to sleep under fresh breeze. But it started to rain so I couldn’t sleep because there was no cover. Between the hot room and cold outside with nowhere to stay, I ended up not sleeping and pressed my phone from midnight till around 5 a.m.

This job is taxing [on the body] because even on a day like this, I still can’t afford to rest. I still have to be at constant alert: I have to open the gate for visitors, receive packages and ensure visitors are who they say they are.

I will try my best today but there’s only so much I can do with little sleep. One day, I’ll talk about the problem with this job where you can’t do anything else apart from it. I’ll also talk about the not so great pay.

But today is not the day. Today is for surviving the day on minimum sleep.

TUESDAY:

Today is better than yesterday. At least, I slept without any disturbance last night. Even though it wasn’t deep sleep, because I was waking up to patrol every one hour, I still feel relaxed.

Today I’m looking back at how far I’ve come. I initially started life as a waiter in a big hotel in Lekki. Although the salary was small, I used to make at least two times my salary from tips and service charges before the end of the month. Unfortunately, due to some things that happened on the job, I got fired.

After that, I went to a sack production company. I started as a loom operator and then moved to become head loom manager. From there I moved to the quality control department. As I was enjoying my new career, the company folded and we were all sent home.

So that I’ll not just be at home sitting down idle, I decided to pursue security work while searching for jobs. It is going to be two years now since I made that decision.

I don’t mind the job because I find that security work is all about intelligence and using your head. It’s also not hard because we didn’t bring the job from heaven; we learned it here. Apart from the basics like checking surroundings, etc we didn’t cover a lot of new things during security training. Additionally, as a contract security personnel, I wasn’t taught about arms because I’m not allowed to carry them.

God forbid bad thing but if armed robbers attack now, as contract security, my job is to hide, take my phone and call the police. Because of this, I’m always reminding myself to use my senses on this job.

WEDNESDAY:

It’s intimidating being a security man in Nigeria because most people assume you’re done for. They think because you’re wearing a uniform you can’t ever make it in life. The wiser ones among them understand that it’s Nigeria of today that’s pushing some of us to do the job. But the majority of people, you’ll greet them and they’ll reply with their nose. Nothing spoil. God is upstairs and he’ll answer our prayers one day.

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I’m at work today thinking about how my current company has good people. This is the first place I’ve worked where people don’t look down on security people. Everyone here is a guy-man. But me, I still don’t pass my boundaries. I’ve learned to read body language and facial expressions to use in determining when to greet or when to keep quiet.

I’ve never been molested or insulted and I want to keep it that way. There’s no one to report to if anything happens with the client. Is it the security company that will save me?

The same company that told us that the customer is always right and the best we can do is record any incident in our logbook pending when a supervisor comes around. And God knows the company will always support the client because that’s where they’re seeing money. Is it the same company that collects ₦50,000 from clients and pays security people ₦25,000 that’ll protect us?

I can stand every aspect of this job but you see that poor pay? I hate it. By the 18th, 19th of every month, I’ve exhausted my money and I’m struggling to meet up. I think my situation is even worse because I’m a family man and many people are depending on the small money.

I’ll not lie to you, this work is somehow. I love the people I work with but I dislike the job.

THURSDAY:

This job takes and takes and takes from you with nothing in return. The most recent thing it has taken from me is my church-going habit. Because of the nature of my shifts, I don’t attend church as much as before. I’m either working or resting because I’m tired from working. As a result of this, I spend extra time thanking God this morning. I read more Bible passages and sing more worship songs.

I know God is still with me. Even if I don’t frequent church regularly, I know that when I call on him he’ll be there for me, especially in my days of trouble. I trust that the God I serve is in control.

Once I’m done praying, my day begins.

FRIDAY:

This is my last shift of the week and I’m happy today. I already have plans for my week off. Every day, for three hours, I’m learning how to drive at my friend’s place. My plan is that in the next two months I’ll master driving and become a commercial driver. Someone has promised that by the special grace of God he’ll buy me a car for Uber. At least, I know that one is better than a security job.

I won’t mind if I can even go from ₦30,000 a month to ₦80,000 — that’s still something. If that happens, I can even bring my wife and my boy to Lagos. Since I started this security job I haven’t been able to rent a house so I sent them to Benin to stay with my mum. Every month, from the little I earn, I try to send them upkeep but it’s never enough.

It’s been two years — since May 2019 — since I saw them last. I miss them so badly but I can’t bring them to suffer here with me in Lagos. This is July, the plan is that if everything goes well, I’ll bring them to Lagos by January 2022. I want us to be one big happy family again.

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I know God is in control so I’m not too bothered. I’ve done many things before now and I’m not afraid to try new things. However, this job has taught me something: Security na human being. They no just fall from heaven and most of them, na condition make them do the work. More people should treat us like human beings. Sometimes, the insult we receive adds to our problem. It can be very painful when someone looks at you from up to toe and just concludes that you can never make it. It’s unfair.

Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.
A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week.

The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a cupping therapist. Cupping is a form of alternative medicine practice that involves making painless cuts on the skin to remove toxins. Our subject talks about the health benefits of cupping, why she enjoys her job and how she combines alternative and modern medicine.

MONDAY:

I’ve been awake for about 30 minutes now, trying to prepare for Tahajjud. My day starts at 4:30 a.m. every day, and I pray from dawn till the first traces of morning light.

Once I’m up, I rarely go back to sleep unless I’m really tired. But today is trying to prove me wrong. It takes all my energy to remain awake.

My days are relatively flexible. Sometimes, work starts as early as 8 a.m., other times, it starts by 3 p.m. My schedule depends on whether I have classes for the day or not. As a master’s student at Unilag, I try to balance work and school so I don’t lose out on any. If I have classes in the morning, I’ll work in the evening, and if classes are in the evening, I work in the morning.

It’s not a perfect system but I try.

I love my job, okay? I don’t make all the money in the world but it gives me a lot of satisfaction because I get to help people.

I’m a cupping therapist who treats people using cupping therapy. Cupping is an ancient form of alternative medicine where therapists put special cups on the skin to create suction. The suction lifts the skin tissues and improves blood flow to other parts of the body. In places where the body tissue is stressed or constricted, it provides relief and keeps the body relaxed. I guess you could say it’s like a deep tissue massage, but more magical.

Cupping is a treatment that constantly amazes even the practitioners. However, we all agree that it’s a simple procedure with great results.

A perfect example of great results: I’ve had patients with severe back pain come in, schedule a consultation, receive treatment and get better. The next day, I’ll wake up to long epistles thanking me for solving their problem and giving them peace.

A typical session lasts between 30-40 mins and involves a lot of standing, disinfecting and massaging — all of which are stressful. However, seeing people get better makes it worth it. On most days, I go home aching, tired, but happy.

Today is shaping up to be one of those days. My lectures start in the afternoon, so I have appointments scheduled from 9 a.m. till afternoon.

I’m standing up to pray because it’s 4:40 a.m. and the time for Tahajjud is slowly slipping away. Prayer is important because at the end of the day, no matter what I do, it’s still Allah’s blessings that make everything work.

TUESDAY:

Today was difficult because I’m still recovering from yesterday’s sessions. I had a slow day, and the highlight was explaining the various types of cupping methods to a new client.

There are several methods, but I mostly focus on dry, wet and massage cupping.

Dry cupping involves applying cups to form suctions on certain parts of the body, after which the suctions are released. In massage cupping, the cups are used to massage a person’s body and this goes a long way in helping with blood flow and reducing pain and inflammation in the body.

Wet cupping, also known as Hijama, is my forte. For this, surgical blades are used to create superficial, painless incisions on the skin to remove toxins from the body. After this, special suction cups are placed on the skin and toxic blood is allowed to accumulate where the cups are placed. Body sites for these “cuts” range from behind the neck to the shoulder to the back. These sites work for boosting immunity, treating ulcers, relieving back pain, etc.

Image source: Google

As cupping therapists, we have points in the body we don’t touch. We avoid places containing veins, such as the inner arm. We also avoid working on some parts of the face and head.

After explaining all this, I ended my speech by telling my patient that if done well, cupping leaves no marks and is less painful than a pinch.

WEDNESDAY:

The first thing I do when a patient approaches me is a consultation session. This helps with two things: to either recommend the person to a doctor or to understand what might be wrong with them. Sometimes it’s issues they’re not aware of and during these consultations, they bring them up.

For example, a patient complaining of migraines may reveal that they don’t eat or sleep well. So better sleep and diet could be a solution instead of cupping. In other instances, the problems are psychological and all the patient needs is a heart to heart conversation. I always tell my patients that without attending to other factors, cupping will not solve anything.

Today, a patient approached me for cupping saying they had symptoms they thought might be malaria. I told them not to “think” and to consult their doctors first for a diagnosis. After the results, they were then free to choose their preferred treatment approach.

No diagnosis, no cupping.

THURSDAY:

The best part of my job is that I get to meet different people. As someone who is a people person, connecting with my clients gives me joy. The next best part is I get to help women. Women are delicate and go through a lot. We endure a lot of pain and consider it as “part of our lives.” It’s not. I want women to live happier and better lives, and I don’t think this is too much to ask.

As a Muslim woman who can’t touch men, a lot of my practice is women-focused. And because women endure a lot of pain due to hormones, I’m always looking for ways to help them live pain-free lives.

Today, I’m thinking about getting more education to fulfil this dream. My goal is to become a naturopath — I want to learn acupuncture, hydrotherapy, fire therapy and any important therapy women need.

I’ll then use this knowledge to run a clinic where women can get treatment using the natural medicine approach. My goal is to remove barriers like menstrual cramps that prevent women from living their best lives.

Editor’s note: Zikoko doesn’t give medical advice and only seeks to tell diverse stories. You should always consult a physician first.

In addition to being a cupping therapist, the subject of today’s “AWITL” is also a pelvic steaming expert who helps women relieve menstrual cramps. She can be reached here.

Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.