Tife Oni, Author at Zikoko!

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.

What’s your earliest memory of money?

Nothing specific comes to mind. But growing up, I always knew when my parents had money and when they didn’t.

How so?

They were open with me and my elder siblings on financial matters. When there wasn’t much money, my mum would say, “This is a difficult period. You guys should bear with us.” My dad would also call us together after morning devotion to share what things were like and assure us that he was working hard to fix them.

What did they do for money?

My mum didn’t have an income as a stay-at-home mum, but my dad worked as an analyst for a political party. I think that’s just code for him being “into politics.” But he was idealistic and rebelled against most of what happened in the party. He contested for the party primaries once in the early 2000s, and they kidnapped him.

Ah

They didn’t like him very much. His salary wasn’t great, and he only got extra money when the party shared money for meetings or whatever reason. That wasn’t consistent, and everything combined is why we had periods of financial drought.

Were there other pointers as to when there was money and when there wasn’t?

Oh yes. When there was money, I got expensive clothes and shoes. I didn’t get anything new during the dry periods. My parents tried their best to make these dry periods unnoticeable, but they couldn’t always shield me.

One time in SS 2, my school fees were delayed, and the principal went from class to class, embarrassing students. It was during exams, and I was writing a paper. The exam was supposed to last an hour and 30 minutes, but I rushed through it in 30 minutes because I knew the principal was coming.

When she finally did, she screamed my name and was like, “You’ve not paid your school fees!” I had to carry my bag and leave the exam hall. Thankfully, I was done with the paper, but I was so ashamed. My teachers were more empathetic. I was a smart student, and they liked me, so they secretly confirmed I was actually done before allowing me to leave the exam hall. It sounds dramatic now, but that was the most horrible thing that had happened to me at that point.

When was the first time you worked for money?

2008. I was 16 and had just gotten admitted to university. A family friend made beautiful handmade cards, and I had the bright idea of taking some of them to school to sell on Valentine’s Day.

He sold each card to me at ₦250, and I sold them for ₦800 – ₦1500. I made about ₦8k in profit the first time I sold them. I did the business for the two semesters I was in university.

Just two semesters?

Yup. I had to return home after a year. The thing was, I failed Physics in WAEC and NECO, and I was studying Industrial Physics. People had encouraged me to just resume and find a way to work around it. But school authorities said it couldn’t work, and my admission was revoked. So, I returned home in 2009.

But it wasn’t all bad news. A wealthy aunty told my dad to allow me to come to Lagos so I could prepare for a US school. She wanted to sponsor me. So, I moved to Lagos in 2010, took SAT tutorial classes, and wrote the SAT and TOEFL exams. I passed both. Then, I got admission into a uni in Seattle and they sent my I-20 form. Everything went smoothly until I was about to start my visa application. That’s when my aunty decided she couldn’t afford to sponsor me anymore.

What? Why?

My dad’s siblings talked her out of it. It was like she hadn’t even sent her own children. Why me? It was really disappointing. I’d spent one year on all those classes and exams. I’d even given out my clothes. I was that sure I was leaving Nigeria.

This woman had already spent so much money on the process — about ₦500k on the tutorials and exams. Anyway, I carried myself back to my father’s house to face my life.

To pursue uni admission, yeah?

Yeah. I had to sort out my O’Levels before writing JAMB. I returned home in late 2010, and it was too late to register for GCE, so I waited until 2011 to register. I wrote the GCE again and still failed the damn Physics exam.

It was wild because everyone knew I was smart. I didn’t know why Physics was kicking my ass. In 2011, I considered military school and took the exam to join the Navy. One of the officers saw me during the exam and was like, “You want to join the Navy with this your small body?” I even tried the pre-degree path and failed woefully.

Yikes. Sorry about that

After I failed the pre-degree in 2012, I took up a teaching job at a school where I taught the JSS 1 class English. My salary was ₦18k/month, and I mostly used it to fix my hair, buy data and look good. I also changed my phone during that period.

I rewrote GCE that same year and finally passed Physics. I gained admission to uni in 2013 — five years after graduating from secondary school.

Phew

I quit my teaching job. But you see that Physics that was kicking my ass in GCE? I got an A in it in my first semester. It turned out it wasn’t even that difficult; I just didn’t understand the teaching style in secondary school.

Moving on, let me tell you how I stumbled on a business opportunity in my first year.

I’m listening

I bought some clothes online from a UK shop but didn’t like many of them when they arrived. My roommates loved the clothes, so I ended up selling most of them. I made almost ₦60k profit from that first batch of clothes, so I decided to make it a regular thing.

I’d show my roommates and friends the clothes online and then order based on their selections. I shopped from AliExpress or ASOS. Then, I sent the clothes through the Nigerian Postal Service (NIPOST). The clothes arrived within five days.

I was a rich student. I often made ₦100k in profits monthly. I was also a baddie in school, so some random man would send me money — between ₦100k and ₦200k —once in a while. My parents also sent me money whenever things were good at home, which usually ranged between ₦20k – ₦30k.

What were your expenses like?

Mostly hair and clothes. In 2014, all the it-girls wore Brazilian hair, so my sister and I regularly travelled to Lagos to buy hair.

I spent money on a lot of random things. I’d enter town and buy groceries or whatever. I also sent money to my mum and elder brother — ₦30k/month to my brother and ₦50k/month to my mum. They knew I had a business in school.

I also took on a significant part of the house expenses when I was home from school. My dad was done with politics and was trying his hand at several businesses, so he had almost no income. I felt I owed it to my parents to pick up some of the financial responsibility.

I ran the business for almost two years until I had to scale it back.

What happened?

My grades began to suffer, so I decided to focus on school from my third year. I was still selling stuff, but not as frequently. In 2015, the dollar rate started shaking, forcing me to reduce the volume of clothes I imported and try other businesses.

First, I tried sneakers. I also sold cute earrings and necklaces. Then I sold jeans. Ultimately, I stuck with jeans and jewellery for the rest of my time in school.

My income dipped to about ₦30k/month due to my focus on school. My parents still sent money whenever they could. My elder sister had also started working, so she sent me random ₦5k once in a while.

In my fourth year, I did a four-month internship that paid ₦14k/month, but my main income came from my boyfriend. He got a job as a rig worker in 2017 and started making money, so he started giving me about ₦200k/month. This happened until I graduated in 2018.

What did you do next?

NYSC. I was called up in 2019 and served in a secondary school. My PPA didn’t pay me anything, and me too, I didn’t ask. There was a lodge, so I didn’t pay for accommodation.

I started a snail business with my boyfriend during this time. His contract with the rig had ended, so we decided to invest in snails. I think I just wanted to get down and dirty to prove to myself that I didn’t just get handouts from people all the time.

He brought in the money, and I did the manual work. I’d travel to Bayelsa and buy 200 snails for ₦18k. Then, I’d clean and process them. We made about ₦200k on each batch.

We did this for a while and then went into feminine wellness teas. I saw the tea online and did some research about the medical benefits. It was legit, so I convinced him to let us try it. A pack of the tea from China cost ₦700. We repackaged it and sold it at ₦15k. It was a big hit. I advertised to everyone in my lodge and PPA and handled social media management. We comfortably made ₦7k – ₦9k in profits per pack.

Nice

I finished NYSC in July 2020 and got a job working the front desk and onboarding clients at an investment company. My salary was ₦100k/month. The job also came with a car. I got the car because I was the only one in the office who could drive, and my boss thought it’d help with my role.

I should mention that a major reason I took the job was because I wanted to have something of my own. I wasn’t getting anything apart from ₦5k for data from the joint business with my boyfriend — we’d agreed to put the profits back into the business — and I needed to rent an apartment. He started acting insecure the minute I started working, and the relationship pretty much ended.

I saved my salary for three months and got a ₦250k/year apartment. Things were going well until I had the bright idea to invest my ₦600k savings in the company in December. I thought, “I can’t work at an investment company and not make small money too, abi?”

It already sounds like it didn’t end well

It didn’t. I was supposed to get a 20% return on my investment each month for six months. I got ₦120k in January and February. But after the second payment, the company packed up. To make matters worse, I’d been investing the returns and every extra money I got at work in crypto. Then Buhari banned crypto, and I could only get ₦80k out of the trading app I used.

Damn

I lost my job, savings and investments, everything. I cried my eyes out. I used the remaining ₦80k to do retail therapy on Shein. At least my company didn’t collect the car back, so that was a plus.

After two months of unsuccessful job-hunting, I decided to use the car as a cab. So, in May 2021, I registered on a ride-hailing app and became a driver.

That’s quite a pivot

The car was just gathering dust, so why not? My siblings were so scared. There was a 7 p.m. curfew in my city because of kidnappings, but I was often on the road till 9 p.m. When police stopped me, I’d lie and say I was just dropping someone. They often pitied me because of fine girl privilege.

Driving brought me around ₦30k – ₦40k weekly after fuelling the car and other minor expenses. Riders also tipped me ₦3k – ₦5k because again, fine girl. Me, I was spending money on gourmet meals, facials, pedicures and hair. I really don’t like to struggle.

So, when the car broke down in July, I had nothing saved up to fix it. I eventually sent the car to my dad, and that’s how my driving career ended after three months.

I’m screaming. What did you try next?

I remembered that people make money on sites like Fiverr and Upwork, so I created accounts and started looking for jobs. I didn’t get anything until the end of August— $100 for a small virtual assistant gig.

In November, I got another virtual assistant gig. It paid $10/hour and was capped at 25 hours per week, bringing my monthly income to $1k— $800 after Upwork removed its commission.

Of the $800, I saved half in my domiciliary account and lived on the other half. Sometimes I’d run back to my savings to remove an additional $100 before month’s end because I’d spent all my money on perfumes and shopping at Miniso.

In May 2022, I got a new $20/hour project coordinator gig for an HR company. My contract was capped at 30 hours weekly, bringing my income to $2200/month after deductions.

So, you were juggling both gigs?

Yes, I was. By this time, the virtual assistant gig had increased my pay to $12/hour, so I got $900/month. However, my contract ended in August. By September, the HR company started having issues, and I worked fewer hours. I was getting around $800 – $1k/month. But I wasn’t too bothered because I had $5k in my savings.

The gig finally ended in January 2023, but then I got another one. It was $25/hour, but they only let me work five hours a week. It didn’t make sense to me, so I left in March. I had a long stretch where I didn’t make any money. My boyfriend was the one paying my bills.

How about the $5k savings?

I spent a good portion of it on retail therapy. I went on Zara and Fendi and got bags and other stupid shit.

From March to September, I was just coasting. I was applying for jobs, but nothing was coming. Then it was like my eyes opened. How was I comfortable with how things were going? I started fasting in October because God just had to do something.

Did He?

Yes! Ironically, I got a gig on the third day of October: $20/hour, 15 hours weekly, which was $1k/month. That lasted a month. Then, in December, I got another $600/month gig — a full-time project coordinator role at a pharmaceutical company.

At this point, the federal government had started restricting dollar payments, so I had to get a middle-man app. This delayed my payment for about two months, but I started receiving it again in February.

It helped me become more intentional with my spending. I spent only $300, most of which I sent to my dad and siblings since my dad no longer had an income. The remaining, I threw in another account so I wouldn’t even think of it. I didn’t even recognise the road to Shein again.

Love it for you

In May 2024, I landed another project coordinator role that pays $500/week. My other full-time gig also increased to $1200/month. So, both jobs now bring me $3k/month after deductions.

Let me not lie; I returned to Shein and Zara after getting my first pay in June.

Girllll

I mean, I had more income. So, I spent about $1k on clothes, shoes, bags, skincare and perfume. I felt I hadn’t spoiled myself in a while, so I did that to reward myself for all the hard work.

But I’m more structured with savings now. The $2k from my second job goes into a different account I haven’t touched yet. Then, from the remaining $1k, I invest $200 in Bamboo stocks and $100 in a savings app for gold. I think gold is a good investment option, so I’m saving for a good piece.

I also budget ₦100k monthly for impulse purchases, such as expensive perfumes.

What do these expenses look like in a typical month?

My tithe is essentially what I give to people. It goes to my dad (my mum is late now), siblings and anyone I want to support that month.

You’ve had an interesting financial journey. How has that shaped your thinking about money?

I’ve realised that I can always make money. Money comes and goes, but I can always come back from ground zero. I just think I can be a lazy person. There’s a lot I’m good at, but it feels like a lot of effort to actually go out and be in people’s faces.

However, I still want more financially. I’m brainstorming ways to move my income to $20k/month and actively considering cybersecurity.

Why cybersecurity?

I heard it pays a lot of money. Actually, I listened to a TEDx talk that encouraged me to try something difficult, so I guess this is me trying it. I’m honestly not sure if I’m cut out to do computer stuff, but I guess I won’t know until I try.

How would you describe your relationship with money?

I don’t have a money management atom in my body. I live within my means, but my thing is that I must spend all my means until it finishes, which is a bad thing. It’s just not affecting my finances because I earn more now. However, I’m now learning to act like the grown-ass woman I am and be a lot more responsible.

Is there anything you want right now but can’t afford?

A car should cost me ₦15m – ₦20m, but I can’t afford it right now. I don’t want to pack all my savings to get a car. I also don’t like saving for things I want. I should be able to just take money and buy what I want.

Do you have any financial regrets?

I try not to live a life of regrets. I used to feel bad about my late start — starting school when my mates had graduated and every other setback I’ve experienced — but I’ve realised that the trajectory of my life has gone exactly how God planned it. Could I have made better choices? Yeah. Maybe I should’ve read harder for that Physics.

But at the end of the day, everyone is looking for financial freedom, and I’m grateful I’m not doing badly.

How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1 – 10?

7. Despite the inflation, I’m at the most financially comfortable I’ve ever been. It’s not a 10 because I’m still chasing that $20k so I can live a proper baby girl lifestyle and travel whenever I want.

If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.

Yes, I want to do a Naira Life!

Find all the past Naira Life stories here.

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When Dami* got married, the last thing he expected to threaten his marriage was a crush on another woman. But it happened.

The 44-year-old shares how he almost lost his 10-year marriage and the steps he’s now taking to ensure he’s never in that situation again.

As told to Boluwatife

Image created by Canva AI

When my wife, Nike*, and I married in 2006, I thought I knew everything necessary for a long, healthy and loving marriage.

I don’t say that out of pride; I actually put in the work to ensure we lived happily ever after. Years before I met Nike in 2004, I’d started reading marriage books and praying for my lifetime partner. I attended seminars and relationship workshops and listened to sermons about marriage.

I did all that because I knew my marriage would be a big part of my life and ministry. Born to parents who are both pastors, I caught my ministerial calling early, and all my life, I’ve seen just how big a role spouses play in the ministry. I saw it with my mum, senior friends and the pastors I admired.

For the Christian in ministry, there’s a limit to how much you can do if you don’t have a happy home. You can’t be preaching everywhere if you’re keeping malice with your spouse or they aren’t happy with you. Or worse, getting married to someone who doesn’t understand why you have to be preaching up and down. So, it was important for me to get it right in marriage.

I met Nike in church. A mutual friend introduced us, and we hit it off. She was funny, beautiful, and loved God. We also had the same values. It took only two weeks of us talking consistently for me to know in my heart that she was the one for me. Of course, I still had to pray and wait for her to be convinced. But getting her answer didn’t take long, and our two-year courtship went smoothly.

It’s not like I thought we’d never have issues after marriage. I knew — and even expected minor disagreements about where to press the toothpaste from and forgetting to buy bread when returning home. But there was no room for things like infidelity, lies or anything that could betray trust. And most importantly, no divorce.

It worked out well in the beginning. However, I quickly realised that even minor disagreements could turn into huge fights. There was one argument about soup that turned into a two-day malice competition. See ehn, in marriage, your theoretical knowledge has to bow down for reality. But we still worked through the frictions and were mostly happy and healthy.

However, we hit a slump as we approached our tenth year of marriage. Nike resumed work after taking a five-year career break to have our children. I was hardly home because I’d been transferred to a different state to head a new church.

Nike couldn’t join me immediately because she just started work, and we thought she needed to get some work experience before entering the job market again. So, we only saw each other once or twice a month.

That’s where the problem started. I always considered myself immune to being interested in other women. Aside from the fact that I absolutely love my wife and don’t want anything to threaten my home, I also fear God and the institution of marriage.

Maybe it’d have been better if I’d admitted to myself that I wasn’t Superman. It might’ve saved all the wahala I brought on myself.

Soon after moving to the new state, I found myself keeping late hours more than I did back home. My work at the church was mainly during the day, and I had more free time at night. I’ve always been a night owl, so I passed the time by watching movies, listening to messages or chatting with my wife. The chatting part didn’t always work because my wife was usually exhausted from working and dealing with our kids all day.

That’s how my situation with Gloria* started. Gloria was a former secondary school classmate who found me on Facebook during this period, and we started talking regularly. At first, I was just excited to catch up with someone from secondary school. We swapped stories about our wicked teachers and what our other classmates were up to. It was harmless fun. I even told my wife about her.

I honestly don’t know how it changed from random catching up to daily conversations, but Gloria and I soon started chatting all night. We had a lot in common, and she was really funny. I began to look forward to talking to her.

We even moved to video calls. I liked having someone to share my day with and discuss different things. I realised it was developing into a crush when I no longer wanted to tell my wife when I talked to Gloria. I really, really liked talking to her. But I thought I could still handle it. After all, we weren’t seeing each other physically. Nothing would happen.

Things got a little heated three months into my crush/friendship with Gloria. She’d joked that night about the heat but being unable to dress lighter because she had a phobia of thieves breaking into her house while she was underdressed. I jokingly asked her to send a picture so I could advise her, and she sent a picture of herself wearing an almost transparent nightgown.

I stupidly responded, “Wow. You look amazing.” Alarms went off in my head, and I abruptly ended the conversation. But to be honest, I had illicit thoughts about Gloria that night.

I decided there and then to stop the constant chatting to avoid things going in the wrong direction. But unfortunately for me, my wife came to visit two days later. I planned to come clean and discuss my crush with her, but she found the chats on my phone before I mentioned anything. Gloria had sent another picture — fully clothed this time — and my wife saw the message come in. I’ve never had a password on my phone, so she also saw the nightgown picture and the multiple messages.

Of course, it turned into a big issue. Nike was convinced I’d probably deleted some messages and that I was cheating. She even threatened to leave. It took the intervention of my parents and some of our mentors in church before she could forgive me.

Even after that, we had to do two months of counselling before our relationship returned to fairly normal. It took even longer for me to build the trust again and assure her I’d be completely honest from the start if such ever happened again. I can’t believe I even let a stupid crush almost destroy everything I’d built with my wife.

That was almost 8 years ago. Since then, I’ve had no other crush, but I now understand the importance of talking about it and not even giving the crush a chance to grow in the first place.

Once I notice my communication with one lady is becoming too long or she keeps insisting she wants to meet me for “personal counselling,” I send her straight to my wife. If she can’t share her problem with my wife, I don’t want to hear it.

*Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.

NEXT READ: My Parents Separated After 25 Years of Marriage. I Wish It Happened Earlier

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Toyosi (29) travelled to India to study nursing in 2015 and achieved her lifelong dream of working in a hospital.

Nine years later, she’s a practising nurse, but she now wishes she never got into the profession.

As told to Boluwatife

Image by Freepik

I knew I wanted to work in healthcare since I was 10. Not because of any particular passion for saving lives, though. My reason was far more simplistic.

I suffered severe asthma growing up, and the hospital was my second home. My mum didn’t want me using inhalers because of the stigma, so I used tablets instead. That didn’t always work, and coupled with my playful nature, I was almost always guaranteed to land at the hospital at least twice a week. But I didn’t mind; I loved seeing the doctors and nurses and wanted to be like them.

Inevitably, I began pursuing university admission to study medicine immediately after I finished secondary school in 2011. But it wasn’t as straightforward as I hoped.

If it wasn’t JAMB “jamming” me, it was the school doing its own. I even picked a JUPEB exam form in 2011 so I could gain admission via direct entry to the second year. But somehow, the results came out, and my name got mixed up with someone else’s. There was nothing I could do. I can’t remember exactly how much my parents spent on the form, but I know it was expensive.

In 2014, I finally got admitted to a federal university, but for a degree in nutrition and dietetics rather than the medicine I wanted. I accepted the admission, but my heart was still set on medicine. I also wrote nursing school exams. I just wanted to work in the hospital.

So, when I got the opportunity to move to India to study nursing in 2015, I grabbed it with both hands.

I was 20, in a new country with no family or friends nearby. When I first got to India, I lived with my travel agent’s girlfriend for a month before my mum paid for my apartment.

It took some time for me to adapt to India; the many masalas, the hundreds of stray dogs on the streets who barked all night, and nursing school. Nursing school was difficult.

To be fair, nursing school is difficult all around the world, but I had a language barrier to overcome. The tutors taught in English, but they often switched to Hindi to help local students understand better, and it always annoyed me.

The language barrier also impacted my practical experience. I mainly worked in the intensive care (ICU), surgical, and obstetrics and gynaecology units, as they guaranteed minimal interaction with the local Indian patients.

But I still learned a lot. The few times I interacted with patients, they were more than excited to talk to me and touch me— even though Indians are also dark-skinned. My hair fascinated them, and I was this phenomenon they didn’t understand.

I graduated from nursing school in 2020 but couldn’t practise in India. For some reason, they didn’t license international students, so I couldn’t get a proper job there. I had to return to Nigeria.

In Nigeria, foreign-trained nurses must register with the nursing council, take a six-month adaptation course, write the nursing council exams, and intern at a teaching hospital for one year before finally getting a nursing license. The process takes about two years.

I went through hell during those two years of processing my license. First, there was the discrimination. I took the adaptation course at a federal university, and they made it clear I wasn’t like them. I wasn’t “their student”, so I shouldn’t expect any special treatment.

The internship experience wasn’t better. Once I mentioned I trained in India, the other doctors and nurses would go, “Ehen, you that even went outside to study, shebi you’re still here with us.” I even started claiming I trained in Nigeria, but they almost always found out after I couldn’t answer questions about the institution I claimed to attend.

Aside from the discrimination, I quickly realised that practising nursing in Nigeria was much different. There’s so much improvisation here. In India, I use a tourniquet to set an IV line or collect blood. I’ve never seen that in Nigeria. I have to cut a drip set to tie on the patient’s hand. I’ve also spoken to a nurse who’d never seen a defibrillator in her life.

There’s also crazy politics in the medical space here — a kind of “Don’t do my work” vibe. In India, I was taught autonomy. If the patient needed urgent care before the doctor arrived, I could attend to that.

However, during my internship in Nigeria, I witnessed a patient die after going into cardiac arrest because the doctor wasn’t around, and the head nurse insisted it was the doctor’s job to resuscitate the patient. The nurses couldn’t even give first aid. I’m still in shock.

I finally got my Nigerian nursing license in 2022 and got a job at a private hospital for ₦50k/month. I did that for a year and moved to where I currently work as an ICU nurse, even though the salary isn’t that much better at ₦150k.

I wasn’t prepared for how low nurses earn in Nigeria, especially considering the sheer physical stress my new job brought with it. The mental stress, too? I almost lost my mind.

It wasn’t that I’d never experienced a patient’s death before. While schooling in India, I once lost a patient after feeding him through a nasogastric tube. The patient was already dying, so I didn’t do anything wrong, but I still felt terrible. A senior colleague had to intervene and convince me that his death wasn’t my fault.

While also working in the ICU unit in India, I witnessed several deaths, and I learnt to detach myself. In fact, during my third year in school, a fellow student and I once exhaustedly fell asleep on a bed that’d just held a dead patient a few minutes ago. So, I thought I had emotional detachment on lock.

However, my mental health started to suffer after I started my current job at the intensive care unit (ICU). The ICU, as the name implies, cares for badly injured patients — people on the verge of death. Once these patients become stable, they get transferred to other units.

In my first month on the job, no one was transferred out of the ICU. It was just death. I’d see a patient today, and they’d be dead by my next shift. These were people my age and even younger than me. Maybe it was because it’d been a while since I worked in the ICU, but the deaths began to affect me. I started having wild heart palpitations. A normal heart rate should be 60 – 100 beats per minute. Mine was regularly above 130.

I did every test in the book — ECG, heart echo tests, hormonal tests, everything. Every doctor I saw told me there was nothing physically wrong with me. I didn’t understand until a doctor colleague at work told me I was suffering from severe anxiety, and it was common among nurses.

He advised me to stay calm and try to reduce my attachment to patients because deaths would always happen. He was right. Most people don’t know that nurses also pass through the five stages of grief. I don’t have to be extra close to a patient before their death affects me.

I recently lost a patient who was hit by a car as he crossed the road to return home from work. He was just 30, and he had a family. For some time after that, I was scared to leave work for home because what if I also got into an accident? Still, I had to put my fear aside and show up for my patients.

It’s easy to say nurses are wicked and unemotional, but we’re also trying to stay sane. The suffering and death get to me, but I can’t put it on my face because I have a job to do. Sometimes, patients come fully ready to be unkind because of what they’ve heard about nurses, but I have emotions, too.

At 10 years old, I thought my dream was to work in the hospital. I achieved that dream, but if I had the chance to rewind time, I’d never do it again. I’d have stuck with the nutrition and dietetics I got, or even pharmacy or physiotherapy. The anxiety and trauma I go through daily isn’t worth it at all.

NEXT READ: I Relocated for My Children’s Future, but I Fear They Resent Me

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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.

Let’s talk about your earliest memory of money

That has to be in primary school. Whenever my brothers and I asked my dad for snack money, he’d give me ₦500 and give them ₦200 each. That’s when I began to notice my dad always gave me more money.

I was the second child, but I had the “only girl” privilege. I got a younger sister when I was 8, but I still enjoyed proper spoiling.

Safe to say you were a daddy’s girl?

I believe I still am. It helped that there was money growing up.

What did your parents do for money?

My mum’s a doctor and my dad did a bunch of things — mostly hotel businesses. He also ventured into politics and won a political seat around the time I entered secondary school.

I remember not seeing him regularly because he came home after my bedtime. He also became really lax with money. I think it was a side effect of working with the government because he used to be a bit more prudent.

One time, when I was in JSS 2, he gave me ₦20k for my birthday. I didn’t know what to do with ₦20k, but I collected it. When my siblings and I wanted to go to the movie, he’d also give us ₦20k each. This was 2014, and a movie ticket cost ₦1k.

What were you spending all that money on?

My siblings and I frequented a Nike store at a mall close to where we lived. I’d buy Benassi slides for like ₦5,500. We even had a discount card because we bought so much stuff there.

Many of the purchases were during school holidays, though. I didn’t get an allowance in secondary school, but if I wanted something during the holiday, I’d tell my dad, and he’d give me money. My mum was different; she was far more frugal.

How so?

She had — and still does — this thing where she’d make me and my siblings work for money. Once, she created a point-based system to earn rewards for doing chores. If I did my chores on time, I’d get four points. I got one or zero points if I did them late or not at all. The points determined what she bought me during the holiday.

Apart from this, I didn’t do anything else for money until 2017/2018.

Go on, please

I’d just finished my first year at university. I was in my Jumia shopping phase, and choker necklaces were all the rage. I got a pack of 20 chokers for ₦3k and planned to sell them at ₦1k each.

I sold about half of it, but I couldn’t get buyers for the rest because people were picky with the styles. So, I gave up and tried selling makeup to my friends.

Why makeup?

My friends and I were in our makeup phase in uni. We looked for the newest palettes and constantly tried makeup tutorials, so I knew it’d sell better than the chokers.

I got the makeup products during my usual shopping for school. I think I spent ₦10k for some eyeshadow and bronzer palettes. I only sold one to a girl who paid me ₦4k; my friend took most of them and never paid me. I didn’t try to sell anything again.

This is the second time you’ve mentioned “shopping for school”

Well, I was a boarder in secondary school, so that was a given. In uni, my dad gave me money to shop based on the list I’d already written about things I needed at school — the usual amount was ₦120k. Then, he’d send ₦100k to my account when I was leaving for school. I didn’t have a monthly allowance because I could always call for more money if needed, but I rarely did.

I tried to be frugal in uni because my dad’s tenure in the government ended back when I was in SS 2, and the change hadn’t been a great experience for me.

What happened?

My secondary school was full of super-rich kids, and I wasn’t popular. So, I tried using money to buy affection. My dad was in office, and I had more money than I knew what to do with. I bought people earrings, body wash, and perfume and generally tried to blow their minds.

Then, my dad left office, and the family had to make lifestyle changes. We moved away from where he lived, and he got a bigger place, maybe to overcompensate. But there was less money to throw around, and we just became more serious.

This meant I couldn’t get as many gifts and even reduced some of the things I bought at school. For instance, I liked getting things like spray starch in twos to have a backup, but I now had to settle for one. Someone called me stingy because I didn’t give as much as I used to, and it stung. I decided, “You know what? I’m not spending money on anyone again!”

So yeah, I tried to spend more reasonably in uni. Plus, my university didn’t have as many rich students. It was a private uni, but they were considerate. They gave scholarships and allowed people to pay in instalments. It was like coming from a school with money bags to people who were managing but thriving. So, I modelled my spending after them.

Was that difficult?

There wasn’t anything to spend money on in my uni. The most expensive meal was rice and chicken, which cost ₦600. Smoothies cost ₦300. I didn’t need up to ₦1k for a complete meal. So, copying people who lived on a ₦20k monthly allowance was easy. They withdrew ₦5k/week, so I withdrew ₦5k/week.

Each semester was about three months long, and my ₦100k lasted for two months and some weeks. My dad didn’t let me try to be broke in peace, though. He had access to my account. Whenever the money in my account went below ₦30k, he’d send me ₦50k extra.

Trying to be broke… God, abeg

That was pretty much how uni was. I already knew my dad indulged me, but it hit me again when I was about to enter my second year in uni. I asked for ₦250k to shop, and he gave me just like that.

I grew a conscience and thought it wasn’t fair for him to bankroll me as much as he did, so I reduced my demands.

Also, I started doing makeup for people for money in my third year.

How did that go?

Not great. I did a couple of ₦1k, ₦1500 jobs here and there. Remember my friend who didn’t pay for the palettes? She also did makeup for a fee and had more clients, so I tagged along to assist her. She never gave any cut of the money she made, though. Not even when we made ₦50k on a few jobs in final year. To be fair, they booked her. I just assisted.

I graduated from university in 2020 and began ICAN classes in January 2021. My mum also started giving me a ₦35k allowance to support me during classes.

Any reason why it was your mum this time?

My mum often moved locations because of her job. At that time, she was in a small house I called the “fuck up” house. Like I said, my mum is frugal, so she didn’t subscribe to DSTV, the internet, or any other entertainment. It was simply a place to sleep.

I moved in with her for my ICAN exams because the house was closer to the tutorial centre. Since I was living with her, she took up my allowance.

Sometimes, my mum deducted from the money if I offended her by not attending church early or missing it altogether. I think each transgression was ₦2500. I augmented the allowance by adding a little — between ₦20k and ₦50k — to my ICAN classes and exam fees.

Then, I wrote my first exam in May and went for NYSC in July. My PPA was a fintech/real estate firm, and they paid ₦20k/month, which I wasn’t excited about. But then there was also the ₦33k NYSC allowance and my mum’s ₦35k, bringing everything to ₦88k/month.

Was that good money at the time?

It was enough for me to enjoy myself. I lived with my parents and didn’t pay for anything, so I lived large. I ordered food or got a nice treat at least once a week.

I was saving the ₦20k from my PPA because I wanted to change my phone and take another ICAN exam after NYSC, and I didn’t want to have to juggle it with work. The plan was to relax, write the exams, and then look for a job.

Remember I said my PPA was a fintech?

Yeah

They made me open my salary account with them, so they paid my ₦20k there. I didn’t touch it for months. But then they started having issues. I couldn’t transfer or withdraw my money because the account balance was just figures. There was no cash.

Fortunately, it was partly solved in January 2022, and I used the money to buy a phone, adding ₦60k to make up the ₦180k I needed. But just before I finished service in June, they had more issues, and ₦20k mysteriously disappeared from my account. I don’t even have words to describe everything that went wrong with them.

Anyway, I eventually finished NYSC with ₦80k in my savings. I would’ve had more from my allowance and the money I got from increasing my ICAN fees, but I lost ₦120k to scams during my service year: a multi-level marketing scheme and an agri-tech crowdfunding investment.

How did that happen?

The agri-tech platform absconded with my money, and the marketing people only sold dreams.

After service ended in June 2022, I focused on preparing for my last set of ICAN exams and applying for jobs in November. The job search was pretty difficult because I don’t live in Lagos, and most financial institutions are there. The recruiters wanted me to come to Lagos to interview, and I did that a couple of times. But it wasn’t sustainable. I couldn’t keep asking my parents to pay ₦250k for round trips, and I kept missing opportunities.

While I was job hunting, I learned I had failed one of the three exams I sat for. I’d thought I’d get my professional level ICAN certification, but now I had to retake a paper. I felt terrible.

Sorry about that

Thanks. I finally found an accountant role through my church’s group chat in February 2023. During the interview, the recruiter asked about my salary expectations. I said ₦70k because I didn’t want to be too greedy. I really should’ve demanded more because I got the job, and it was the ₦70k they paid.

I was still getting ₦35k/month from my mum, which brought my income to ₦105k. Ordinarily, I should’ve been cruising on that amount. I even drew up a plan to save and change my phone.

But Tinubu entered some months after and removed fuel subsidy. Cab fares went from ₦1200 to a minimum of ₦2k. I couldn’t take cabs to and fro anymore. I also stopped ordering food from Instagram vendors when they increased their prices. My employer added ₦10k to my salary to help with the hardship, but the salary was not doing what it was supposed to do anymore.

I know, right?

As if my ₦80k salary wasn’t small enough, my employers started deducting ₦500/day from the salary for coming minutes late. So my salary was often ₦77k.

Also, my mum could just deduct from my allowance, so everything was somehow. Saving became something I did if there was any money left or if I wanted to buy something.

In January 2024, my salary increased to ₦100k. I wasn’t pleased about it because my employer had promised a salary review for the longest time, and I expected more. There was also one ₦200k allowance he was supposed to pay that never materialised despite the many promises.

I eventually left in February. In March 2024, I resumed my current role, where I’m an audit assistant.

Better pay?

It wasn’t a significant pay bump. My salary is ₦115k/month — ₦108k after tax. My mum also stopped my ₦35k allowance in December last year because she got transferred at work and had some delays with her salary.

Plus, I didn’t have any more ICAN exams — I sorted those in May 2023 — so we haven’t had a conversation about whether she’d continue or not.

I’m surviving on just my salary. Oh, I got a part-time three-month lecturing gig at my former ICAN tutorial centre last month, and they paid ₦22k. I’m not sure if it was a one-time payment or if they’d pay me again at the end of the third month.

Right now, my 9-5 is my main income, and the economy isn’t making it easy to survive on my own. Things get more expensive by the day and it’s crazy.

I can relate. Let’s break down your typical monthly expenses

My transportation cost is low because I now have a car — my dad bought me one after I passed ICAN last year — and he fuels it. I only take Bolt sometimes. I also do once-in-a-while sacrificial giving in church or online. It’s faith-based and can be as low as ₦5k and go up to ₦100k.

How would you describe your relationship with money?

It’s like I’m running after money, but it’s running two steps away from me. Actually, I think my biggest problem is Tinubu. I’m not earning terrible money, but the country is spoiling faster than I earn.

My savings have suffered a lot because I often dip into it for one thing or the other. Last month, my siblings and I contributed money to get my sister a phone, and my share was ₦76k. I have about ₦50k left in my savings now.

I’m curious about how your parents’ very different money management styles shape your thinking about money

I have a centrist-ish approach. My dad was lax and my mum was very frugal, and I’m more like a balance between them. If I want something — flimsy or not — I believe in saving towards it and working to achieve it. I won’t deny myself or just buy it on an impulse.

How do you feel about moving from chilling daddy’s girl to hustling babe?

It’s due to factors beyond my control. Yes, I’m trying to be more independent, but I shouldn’t be struggling like this. I feel like I’d be in a better financial state if I lived in a system where the president wasn’t actively working against me.

I’m living above my means, but I’m not doing anything crazy most of the time. I once did an analysis of my expenses and realised I was spending ₦64k more than my salary, meaning I regularly eat into any savings I have at the time or money gifts I get from friends and family. I’ve tried to cut down recurring expenses like ordering food at work to make it better but it isn’t doing much.

I was thinking about the whole thing a few months ago and became depressed at how my money was disappearing in the twinkle of an eye. You know what I did to feel better? I did a birthday photoshoot, bought cake, went shopping and essentially wiped out the money I was depressed about in the first place.

What do future plans look like right now?

I’m trying to get better job opportunities, but it’s still this Lagos thing, and I feel stuck. Ideally, I’d have wanted to stay at least a year at my current job to build my career, but constantly stressing about money isn’t allowing me to calm down.

I also plan to do a master’s degree abroad soon. The last time I discussed it with my parents, the dollar was $700 to a naira. I don’t know what the amount will be when we revisit the conversation in December after my brothers are done with uni.

You mentioned looking for better job opportunities. Is there an ideal amount you’re looking for?

My ultimate goal is to be as far away from this president as possible because it’s not possible to outgrind a failing country. But right now, I just want to double my salary. Earning at least ₦200k while I live with my parents and not worrying about rent, food or fueling my car will go a long way.

Is there something you want right now but can’t afford?

A gym membership. The fee recently increased from ₦15k/month to ₦20k and it’ll require a lot of calculation for me to fit it to my monthly expenses. One thing would have to suffer, which is really wild. I also want to change my phone to an iPhone 13 pro max and that’ll cost about ₦800k.

How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1 – 10?

4. I don’t have it the worst, but there are things I should be able to do for myself which are still out of my reach. I can’t be financially irresponsible for a month and bounce back because the country is spoiling faster than I earn.

If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.

Yes, I want to do a Naira Life!

Find all the past Naira Life stories here.

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Kate* (32) moved abroad in 2021 after losing her husband to a preventable death, determined to raise her children in a sane environment. However, her work hours and inability to afford child care make her often rethink her decision.

As told to Boluwatife

Image by Freepik

Five years ago, if you’d asked me if I’d ever leave Nigeria, I’d have said a big no and probably lectured you about the importance of staying to build your motherland. That’s how much I believed in the Nigerian dream.

But look at me now. I’m far away in Canada, with almost no connections to home and the only regret I have is how relocation is affecting my children.

My Nigerian dream died on the same day as most other Nigerians. Oct 20, 2020, the day Nigeria killed her citizens for demanding better from her leaders. My husband, Lanre*, and I had given our all during the #EndSARS protests. We weren’t just fighting to end police brutality. In our minds, we wanted to remove all the rotten eggs that were giving our beloved Nigeria a bad name.

Lanre was just as patriotic as I was, if not more. He would stand at the junction reading newspaper headlines at the vendor stand and argue with everyone else there about politics.

His favourite thing to watch was the news, and we bonded over the latest political events. It sounds weird, but that was our preferred type of gist since we married in 2014.

So, of course, it was a no-brainer that we’d participate in the protests. But then the shooting happened, and everything changed.

I think the first time Lanre brought up japa as a possibility was when the Lagos governor went on air to say he didn’t know who ordered the shootings. We’d discussed japa before, but it had always been about others who chose to leave. It’d never been a possibility for us.

It took me a while to accept his new vision. We had good banking jobs in Nigeria, our two children were under three years old, and our immediate family members lived in Nigeria. My Nigerian dream was dead, but I knew starting afresh in a new place would be difficult.

Still, I followed Lanre’s lead, and we began the Canada Express Entry process in 2021. We even created two individual profiles to increase our chances of getting the Invitation To Apply (ITA). We wrote IELTS and sold our landed properties to raise money.

Unfortunately, Lanre passed away four months later. The bus he was travelling in had an accident, and onlookers thought it was better to film the scene than actually rush the victims to the hospital.

When they finally took my husband to the hospital, the nurses said they didn’t have enough oxygen. My husband was already dead before I heard and rushed to the hospital.

I wanted to die. It was like my whole world had crashed before my eyes. I must’ve suffered functional depression in the weeks that followed because I didn’t want to live anymore, but I still had to turn up for my children. I still don’t know how I managed it.

Ironically, I got the ITA about a month after my husband passed. I was prepared to ignore it, but I told my mum, and she encouraged me to take the opportunity. Nigeria had killed my dream and taken my husband, too. What else was I staying back for? Wasn’t it better to move somewhere that works and secure my children’s future?

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So, with the help of family and friends, I raised money and arrived in Canada with my children in 2021.

We first lived in Manitoba for two years with someone I got introduced to through a church member back in Nigeria. Manitoba felt like a home away from home. Our host was extremely kind and helped look after my children when I had to look for jobs and even when I finally found work.

My children adapted well at first. It was a strange land with no familiar faces around, and they didn’t know why they suddenly had to wear heavy clothing, but we were still together, and they were fine.

But we had to move to Toronto in 2023 because of my new job, and it hasn’t been as easy. I work two jobs and often can’t spend time with my children after they return from school.

I also can’t afford a live-in nanny, so most of the time, I drop my children off with my Nigerian neighbours after school so I can rush off to my next job. My eldest has complained that one of my neighbours’ children is always stealing his snacks, but there’s not much I can do apart from giving him more snacks. I can’t complain to people who are helping me out.

My youngest has also taken to crying for her daddy every time I drop them off. I’m not sure if she even remembers him because he died when she was barely a year old. But every time she’s upset now, she asks for her daddy.

I’m working towards getting a trusted babysitter who can come in for a few hours and leave so my children don’t have to stay out of their home after school. But I also fear it may not be the solution. What if they resent me because I don’t spend enough time with them?

I also had long work hours back in Nigeria, but daddy was also there, and we lived close to family members, so they always saw their cousins. Even in Manitoba, there was always someone familiar with them. Now, they have to deal with daddy’s absence and spend time with people they don’t like.

I try to focus on why I came here in the first place: Securing a better future for my children, but I’m concerned I’m failing in the present. What’s worse, I don’t really have people to talk to. Many Nigerians are in Toronto, but there’s no real sense of community. Everyone has their own wahala to face.

I also can’t tell family back home about my parenting struggles because I’ll sound stupid. Like, how do you have an opportunity people would kill for, and you’re complaining?

Sometimes, I wonder if I should’ve stayed back in Nigeria, but the news I hear daily from back home renews my resolve. I can only keep pushing and hope it all works out soon.

*Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.

NEXT READ: My Parents Separated After 25 Years of Marriage. I Wish It Happened Earlier
On Monday, July 29, 2024, a two-month-long protest by staff and students of the Federal College of Education (Technical) came to a head when the Nigerian Police shot bullets and tear gas at the disgruntled protesters.

The police also arrested 32 staff and students for allegedly damaging five vehicles and the provost’s official quarters.

How did the protest start?

According to a resident of the institution’s staff quarters who requested anonymity, the protests started because the school’s current provost, Dr Ademola Wahab Azeez, was trying to extend his tenure illegally.

Dr Ademola Wahab Azeez

The source also told Zikoko that the protests had started out peaceful until the police shot at protesters at the provost’s orders.

“Dr Azeez resumed office as provost on May 26, 2019, and his four-year tenure should’ve originally ended on May 26, 2023, after which he would’ve been eligible to run for a second term upon election. But, the new act gave him one more year,” she said.

The amended Federal Colleges of Education Act 2023 stipulates a single, non-renewable five-year term for provosts of Federal Colleges of Education. The act came into effect in June 2023, overriding the initial provision of a four-year term renewable upon election (for a maximum of two terms) for the provosts.

The Act partly reads thus, “Provosts with less than five years in office will serve a single term of five years, regardless of their original appointment terms. Those serving a second term at the time the Act was enacted will complete their current four-year term without any extension.”

This meant that Dr Azeez could’ve secured a second four-year term if the re-election had been done in May, before his tenure expired and before the new Act came into effect. However, our source says no re-election took place.

“We expected his tenure to end on May 26, 2024, and an election for a new provost. But he announced that he had no intention of stepping down. That’s why the peaceful protests started on May 28 and happened daily till July 29.”

Allegations of fraud and misconduct

Illegal tenure extension isn’t the only bone staff and students of FCE(T) have to pick with their provost. There are also claims of misconduct, fraud and intimidation.

Oreoluwa, another resident of the school’s staff quarters, told Zikoko that there were several sexual assault reports levelled against Dr Azeez and the Dean of Student Affairs during the initial four-year term, but the provost did nothing.

“Dr Azeez is utterly despotic. No one dares to go against him or utter a word of disagreement with his policies. All sexual assault reports were ignored. He also constantly diverted funds meant for the maintenance and renovation of school buildings. Even the staff of the medical center always complain that he diverted funds meant for the facility, leaving them unable to function effectively.”

Sometime in 2022, staff and students noticed a new building in the school. According to the project details, the building was supposed to be for the “Department of Home Economics.” However, Dr Azeez moved into the building after completion.

During Construction

Now

“It’s illegal. He used government funds to build a residence for himself and his family. His son now uses the flat to host parties.”

A former student also claims they’ve been unable to receive a certificate despite graduating in December 2022 because of the provost’s alleged misappropriation of funds. “FCE(T) runs affiliate programs with some federal universities like UNIBEN. These universities have refused to give graduates their certificates for a while now because the provost still owes them a lot of money. Some people who graduated in 2020 are still in limbo.”

The Minister of Education’s involvement

Some weeks into the daily protests, the Minister of Education, Tahir Mamman, called for a meeting with the warring parties in Abuja. There, he affirmed the legality of the provost’s second term and called for an end to the protests.

However, this was met with resistance, and the protests continued. Oreoluwa claims this led to the arrest of the Deputy Registrar, Mr Chris Olamiju, by officers of the DSS.

“Olamiju has been one of the protest’s most vocal leaders. DSS broke into his school residence on July 11, 2024, between 3 a.m. and 4 a.m. and carted him away amidst the screams of his wife and children. They also shot at the security men and took one of them away too. We even thought they were kidnappers. When we learnt it was DSS, we knew it was Dr Azeez.”

According to Oreoluwa, Azeez denied involvement but must’ve made calls to secure Olamiju’s release that same evening when he realised the situation was getting ugly.

Indefinite closure

The protest came to an abrupt end on July 29 after the police fired shots to disperse the crowd. This has left many students injured, with two reportedly in critical condition at the hospital.

The 32 students and staff arrested by the police were released on July 30 after being made to write an undertaking of good behaviour.

On July 31, the Federal Government directed the indefinite closure of FCE(T) Akoka.

“Step Aside”

According to the Premium Times, the FCE(T) Governing Council has advised Dr Ademola Azeez to “step aside” from his position as provost effective July 31, 2024. This decision was passed through an internal memo with reference FCE/T/AK/RO/IM/2/206 and signed by the College’s Registrar, Mr Rasheed Dada. The Council has now appointed Dr Isaac Oluwatoyin Miller as the acting provost.

This story has been updated to include the provost’s suspension.

NEXT READ: Everything You Need To Know About the Upcoming #EndBadGovernanceinNigeria Protest

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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.

Let’s start from the beginning. When did the hustle start for you?

1998. I was 15 and was in JSS 2 when I started working on my uncle’s farm every morning before school. Sometimes, I’d return to the farm after school to continue working. He grew yam, and his wife processed palm oil, so there was always plenty work.

I made money by setting traps on the farm for bush meat and selling my catch to market women, making between ₦200 and ₦500 on each sale. It was big money in 1998.

How “big” was ₦200? What could you buy with it?

I mostly spent my money on meat. During break time, I’d go to a mama-put to buy pounded yam and plenty pieces of bushmeat for ₦200 and collect change.

The old men in the canteen always looked at me like, “Who is this small school boy eating pounded yam in the middle of the day?” Some even questioned me, but I was stubborn. I once asked an old man to mind his business and tripped him when he wanted to beat me. Then, I started seeing him in my dreams. I thought he had cursed me.

Haha. You mentioned your uncle. Were you living with him?

Yes. My mum sent me to live with him after my father disappeared. I was three years old.

Disappeared?

I don’t even know how to describe it. My mother got pregnant for him in SS 2, and they started living together. He was an inter-state driver, so he only came home during the weekends. One day, he stopped coming home. My mother didn’t have any work, so her brother offered to raise me.

Can you paint me a picture of what things were like at your uncle’s?

My uncle and aunty didn’t have children of their own, but they always had five or six children in their house at any time. They did this to support the children, who were either orphans or came from poor families. I was one of those children.

It’s not like there was money; they were just good Christians. Things were tough most of the time. I only had one pair of trousers, which I wore to church every Sunday until they started reaching my knees, and aunty bought me another one.

We ate pounded yam or amala for breakfast and dinner because that’s what we grew on the farm. I was in SS 3 when I ate cornflakes for the first time. A classmate brought a pack to school, and I thought it was too expensive for the size. Why would anyone use money to buy something that doesn’t even fill your stomach?

You know what? That’s a good question

After some delays because of school fees, I graduated from secondary school in 2004 and knew there was no university unless I wanted to sponsor myself. I didn’t even really want to go. I knew some people in our neighbourhood who had gone to university only to return to teach. I wanted to make big money.

How did you plan to do that?

I was ready to try anything. That same year, I met a man through my uncle. He often came to our town to buy yams from my uncle, and I noticed he came with different cars. He also stayed back in town for a few days before returning. I asked around and heard he was a smuggler in Lagos.

He looked like he had money, so I approached him and told him I wanted to be like him. This man reported me to my uncle.

I’m screaming

My uncle couldn’t beat me because I was 21, but he scolded me. He kept saying, “Upon everything I’ve done for you, this is what you want to do?” I could see he was disappointed in me and that was more than any beating.

So, I decided to get a teaching job instead. I got one at a local primary school in 2005, and my salary was ₦5k/month. I hated the job ehn. The children were always shouting. I’m sure they also hated me because I flogged them very well.

Uncle, why?

Haha. I worked at the school for three years. They didn’t increase my salary until I left because I only had an SSCE certificate. I also helped my uncle and aunty on the farm, and they started giving me money too — ₦2k per week. I occasionally caught bushmeat and sold it to market women. I was comfortable.

I don’t even know what I spent money on. I didn’t have a girlfriend or anything. I just know the money was always finishing. Maybe it was food because I like food a lot. Meat was a luxury at home — my aunty didn’t eat bushmeat, and we couldn’t afford to buy beef or chicken. So, I usually bought it at mama-puts outside. Sometimes, I also loaned my uncle money to buy foodstuff for the house. But I wasn’t spending on transportation, so the money should’ve lasted.

But why did you leave the school?

I was the class teacher for Primary 3, but the school owner wanted me to start teaching the Primary 5 students mathematics. My problem was that he didn’t want to pay me extra, so I left in 2008.

I didn’t want to return to another teaching job, so I told my uncle I wanted to learn handiwork.

Did you have any in mind?

I considered plumbing because I knew a plumber, but my uncle discouraged me. He was like, “Does that plumber look like he’s making money?” Me too, I considered it and gave myself brain.

Shots fired at the innocent plumber

My uncle suggested tailoring, and that’s what I did. I found a tailor who charged me ₦30k to learn for six months. I paid ₦10k, and my uncle paid the rest.

After I finished learning in 2009, the tailor employed me to assist him in his shop. He paid me ₦15k/month, and I worked almost every day. I was mostly sewing clothes and uniforms for young boys. Older men only came to sew clothes during festive periods.

I worked there for two years until the tailor died. I tried to get another tailoring job, but the places I saw wanted to pay ₦10k, and I wanted more money.

I considered opening my own shop, but there was no money to buy a sewing machine. I’d spent all my money as soon as it entered my hand as usual. I tried to convince my uncle to loan me money, but he asked why I had no savings.

Why didn’t you have savings, though?

I don’t believe in saving money. It’s like not wearing your fine clothes because you’re waiting for a special occasion. I don’t even know if I’ll wake up tomorrow, so what happens to the money I’ve kept if I don’t? It’s better for me to take care of the body that works for the money.

One time, when I was younger, my uncle lost some money he hid on the roof in an old tin of milk. He thinks someone stole it, but I mistakenly threw the tin away when I saw it on the floor. It’s possible a snake pushed it to the floor, but I thought it was rubbish and was supposed to be in the pit we burned waste in. I never told my uncle because he’d have beaten me.

I’m telling you this story because see how my uncle lost something he must’ve been saving for a long time. It’d have been better if he had eaten his money jeje.

Hmmm. So, back to your tailoring dilemma

I couldn’t open a shop, so I stayed home for a few months. Then, in 2012, a distant relative of my aunty came to visit, and somehow, we started talking about me following him. He was a mechanic in another state, and I was going to be his apprentice.

How long did the apprenticeship last?

Four years. I realised I was really good with cars, and it didn’t take long to learn about petrol and diesel engines, bodywork and a bit of car rewiring.

There were other apprentices in the workshop, and our oga didn’t pay any of us. Sometimes, he’d give every apprentice ₦1k on Fridays to do weekend, but that was it.

I made small small money by increasing the price of car parts — usually ₦500 – ₦1500 per week. This wasn’t regular because my oga also knew how much the parts cost.

I squatted with another apprentice during those four years and bought food for both of us to appreciate him letting me stay in his room for free. Even after finishing my apprenticeship in 2016, I still stayed with him for one more year.

What did you do after the apprenticeship?

Many of my oga’s customers liked me because they could call me to come and pick up their cars and fix them at the workshop. When I was done, I drove it back to them. They didn’t have to stress at all. I think my oga was scared that if I left, I’d carry his customers, so he asked me to keep working from his workshop and pay him ₦15k/month for rent.

I didn’t have another option, so I did that. Like I said, people already knew me, so I got customers quickly. Sometimes, I met customers on the road when I was driving to drop off other people’s cars.

Between 2016 and 2018, I made at least ₦30k monthly. But the money wasn’t really showing in my life because I was paying my oga. Sometimes, my oga would corner my customers once they came to the workshop, and I couldn’t talk because I was using his space. I just knew I had to leave.

Did you have a plan?

For the first time, I tried to save to get my own workshop, but something always came up.

For example, I had to rent my own apartment at ₦80k/year in 2018 because my friend wanted to get married. My woman also moved in with me, and I had to be dropping money at home.

Fortunately, my friend set up his own workshop the following year and allowed me to work from there for free. That’s still our arrangement till now.

But in 2021, I set up a small container by the roadside not far from his workshop where I sell engine oil and do minor work like repairing okada. When I need to do major work, I use his workshop. I do it like this so we don’t get into arguments about stealing customers or space.

What’s your monthly income like these days?

I make between ₦60k – ₦70k from mechanic work and about ₦10k extra from selling engine oil. I also help people advertise their cars for sale on my WhatsApp and do pre-sale inspections and servicing, and I make money from that too.

If a buyer comes through me, I can make as much as ₦80k – ₦100k. If it’s just a pre-sale inspection I do, that’s like ₦30k. Money from cars used to be almost every month in 2022, but since Tinubu entered, everyone is looking for money to eat, not buy a car. I haven’t sold a car since January.

What do your typical monthly expenses look like?

I take my enjoyment very seriously. I can’t suffer to make money and still suffer myself. God forbid. Every weekend, I go out to drink and eat barbecued fish.

I also like to buy something new every month, like a watch or new palm slippers. People think mechanics are supposed to be dirty and smelling. At least when I’m not at the workshop, I can look good, abi?

That’s right. So, would you say your income is enough for the lifestyle you want?

It’s not at all o. I’m just making myself happy with the small money I make. If I think too much about the things I can’t afford, I’ll just be sad, and that doesn’t solve anything.

My woman gave birth to our child last year, and I know very soon she’ll start asking me for money for baby food and clothes. I’m even lucky because she’s a teacher and hardly bills me, but I know the time will soon come. She’s already complaining that our self-contained apartment is too small, so I’ll need to look for another place.

How much do you think would be great to earn right now?

Maybe ₦150k/month. That will be hard to get from just mechanic work, so I’m hoping car sales pick up again.

What’s something you want right now but can’t afford?

A korope minibus. The plan is to give someone to drive for me and pay me weekly. But the price is increasing every day. A used one is now between ₦3m – ₦4m. Something that was about ₦1.5m last year. Maybe I should even remove it from my mind because it can be ₦10m when I’m finally ready.

How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?

6. Things are hard, but I thank God for how far I’ve come. I just need to find a way to make more money soon to take care of my family.

If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.

Yes, I want to do a Naira Life!

Find all the past Naira Life stories here.

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TW: Emotional abuse.

Deborah* (22) talks about her parents’ troubled long-term marriage, encouraging her mum to leave and why she wishes their separation had happened earlier.

As told to Boluwatife

Image by Freepik

I like to tell people I ended my parent’s marriage just to see the shocked looks on their faces and the silent questions they desperately want to ask. Sometimes, I provide context. Other times, I don’t.

If you ask me, I think their marriage shouldn’t have happened in the first place. My parents got married in 1997 as literal strangers. According to the story I heard, they met because my dad returned to his village to pick a wife after years of hustling in the city. His mother spoke to my mum’s aunt, and their marriage was arranged.

My parents met a week before the wedding and moved to my dad’s place in the city immediately after the bride’s price was exchanged. My mum had to start married life in a new place with no friends or family around. With nothing else to do, she began popping babies out. My mum was either pregnant or delivering a child every year in the first five years of marriage and finally stopped with me in 2002.

To this day, I wonder how that happened — the pregnancy every year bit — because I don’t think there was ever any love lost between them. My mum said they lived like roommates who shared a bed for the first few months of marriage. My dad made it clear he didn’t like unnecessary talk or “women’s gossip,” so apart from normal greetings, they hardly talked.

Becoming parents didn’t change much. Since my sisters and I could crawl, we knew daddy was a no-go area. He was this fearsome creature no one neared or talked to without being asked a question. It wasn’t just that he beat us — that happened often —it was also what he said.

My dad can make stupid money by holding a masterclass in emotional abuse because he’s honestly a professional. He was so quick with the insults and humiliation whenever anyone did something he didn’t like. If he saw us watching TV, he’d lash out and complain about lazy children who only watched TV and didn’t know how to do anything well. If we were in our bedroom, the complaint would be, “Why are you all sleeping like pregnant women? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

One time, when I was 12, my dad asked me to bring him a cup of water. When I did, he dumped the water on my head because, “If not that your head is empty, don’t you know I don’t like this cup?”

My mum got the worst of his verbal attacks. My dad is mean on a typical day but gets downright evil when he wants to. His favourite pastime is telling my mum she’s a disappointment because she couldn’t give him a male child. They’d be talking about something as random as the children’s school fees, and a switch would flip in his head, and he’d just start berating her.

My dad was the one who insisted my mum didn’t work, but whenever he was angry, he’d complain about how she and “her children” were finishing his money and not adding anything to his life. If it wasn’t name-calling, it was asking if she couldn’t see that she was getting fat.

He was also fond of breaking or seizing things whenever he was angry. He once threw a screwdriver at our TV because my big sister accidentally burnt a pot of soup while watching a telenovela. Then he turned his anger on my mum and blamed her for giving him wasteful children.

My dad’s antics aside, I was angrier that my mum didn’t see anything wrong in his behaviour. I was the only one of my siblings who didn’t go to boarding school, so I had a front-row seat to everything. Whenever I asked my mum why she never stood up to his insults, she’d say he had a lot on his mind, and it was just the pressure getting to him.

The first time I suggested my mum leave my dad was in 2018. She’d visited me for my university matriculation, and we decided to return home together. Only, we met a locked gate. My dad was inside, and when we knocked, he came outside and asked us to return to where we came from because my mum didn’t seek his permission before leaving.

We stood at the gate for almost two hours, begging this man, but he didn’t budge. When it became a scene and neighbours started gathering, I dragged my mum away, and we went to sleep at her friend’s house.

It hurt me to see how accepting my mum had become of abuse. She was shaking, fearing what my dad would say if he realised she hadn’t stayed outside all night waiting for him to let her in. It was like I saw her clearly for the first time that night. The woman was literally wasting away. Growing up, my mum was robust. I didn’t recognise the lean woman sitting across from me. I asked her that night why she hadn’t left him. Her response was, “At least he doesn’t beat me.”

But that didn’t discourage me. Over the years, I kept applying pressure and making my mum see why she had to leave. I even sought the help of my sisters also to convince her, but she always refused.

When my mum finally left in 2022, she did it without drama. I’d graduated from uni three months prior and hadn’t been home since. The plan was never to return, actually. I couldn’t bring myself to remain in that environment.

My mum called me one day to complain and try to convince me to visit. I jokingly told her I didn’t think we’d see again if she remained in my dad’s house. Then, she responded, “I’m moving to your sister’s house next week.”

I thought she was joking, but my mum actually did it. When I asked what changed her mind, she said she just decided to accept what I’d been saying all these years. An elder in our church had used my parents’ marriage as an example of a long-standing marriage during one of his sermons, and my mum realised that external validation was the main reason she’d endured for so long. People were looking up to her for staying married for 25 years, but she was literally dying inside the marriage.

My dad didn’t take it so well. For the first time in a very long time, he called me and my sisters on the phone and asked us to speak sense to our mother. Of course, we didn’t tell him we were solidly behind her.

It’s been about two years since they separated, and I honestly think it’s the best thing that happened to them. My mum isn’t lean anymore, and she has peace of mind. I heard my dad has brought one young girl into the house. I guess she’s bringing him the peace we apparently didn’t give him.

To be clear, I don’t hate my dad. If not for anything, I appreciate that he sent us to school and provided — even though he regularly complained about doing it. My parents are the typical example of people who had no business staying together. I wish they’d separated earlier. Maybe I wouldn’t have the anxiety I struggle with now.

*Name has been changed for anonymity.

NEXT READ: My Husband Doesn’t Understand My Mental Health Struggles

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What does failure mean to people, and how do they handle it? Zikoko seeks to understand this by telling the stories of everyday Nigerians and their experiences with failure in different aspects of life. This is a limited weekly series.

I was looking to speak with people with a history of academic brilliance who have, at one point or another, faced failure in school when I found Ini’s tweet.

In this story, he talks about failing for the first time in his life in medical school, spending 12 years in university and why he’s no longer scared of his future.

As told to Boluwatife

Image credit: Ini Amah/X

I was a smart kid growing up.

The first time I got the first position in school was in Primary 1. I was a well-known menace in my class of 20-30 students, and my name was always on the noisemakers’ list. But even with all those distractions, I still got the first position. That was when my intelligence first dawned on me, and I became cocky.

After that, I regularly got the first position, and I took it for granted that I’d always come first. I expected it, and my parents expected it, too. The only subject I wasn’t great in was Mathematics, much to my mum’s dismay. She’s a teacher and was particular about my performance in maths.

I came first all through primary school, but my maths skills didn’t improve until Primary 5. I figured it’d make my mum happy, so I paid more attention to the subject. I studied more, and fortunately, a cousin came to stay with us around that time. He was good at maths, and he tutored me and helped with my assignments. He played a vital role in my improvement.

My first position streak ended in primary school. I attended a federal government college, and there was more competition. My first result placed me second out of about 70 students, and I thought I’d failed. I remember sulking about it when another classmate found me. He asked why I was frowning, and I said, “Because I don’t like my result.” The guy just started laughing. His own position was 20-something. What did I expect him to do if I came second and still felt bad about it?

Still, I resolved to land the first position, so I studied more than ever. I read into the night with candles — literally burned the midnight candle — but it never happened all through secondary school. I always came between the second and fourth. There was always someone better.

However, mathematics gave me a chance to shine. I got even better at it in secondary school. In JSS 3, I became one of the two students selected from my school to compete in Cowbell’s Secondary School Mathematics Competition (Junior category) in 2007/2008.

The competition is televised now, but it was a written examination then. It had two levels—the state and national levels. At the state level, schools sent at least two students to participate. The student who scored highest at the state level got to represent their state at the national level.

It took almost a month of preparation and tests before my school selected me. The school administration first selected students with good maths results, gave us extra maths teachers and put us through extra lessons. Students were dropped after each test until they got the top two — me and one other student.

I eventually came second overall at the state level. Unfortunately, I couldn’t represent my state nationally, but I got a ₦15k cash prize and a certificate.

That same year, I participated in a maths olympiad organised by the National Mathematical Centre. The olympiad was even more intense than Cowbell’s competition because the questions were more advanced than my JSS 3 level, and a negative marking system removed marks for failing an answer. I also came second overall at the state level and got a certificate.

In 2011, I wrote WAEC and had one of the best results in my school. I was in the top 10 out of 300+ students, with seven Bs and two Cs. All was set for me to pursue my dreams of studying medicine and becoming a doctor.

My medicine dream started at age 7 when I read “Gifted Hands” by Ben Carson. I wouldn’t say I had a passion for it. I just bought the Ben Carson dream and looked forward to also becoming a doctor.

I wrote JAMB first in 2011. I passed but didn’t get medicine, so I tried again in the second year. I still didn’t get medicine, but I decided to apply for supplementary admission into microbiology so I wouldn’t just stay home.

I still didn’t give up on my dream, though. I wrote JAMB again in 2013 while in my first year of microbiology and finally got medicine. It was at the same university, so I just switched departments.

I started medical school without any expectations. I just knew I had to be serious because everyone kept saying that anyone who failed a course in the first year would be instantly withdrawn. I studied hard as usual and passed all my courses — 17 altogether.

In year two, we started learning medical courses: anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, and community health. Just four courses, but each had about three to four sub-courses.

I enjoyed anatomy, particularly gross anatomy, but I struggled with physiology and biochemistry. The latter was worse; I just couldn’t grasp the subject.

The thing with studying medicine is that discipline will always beat intelligence.

There was A LOT to study, and you needed discipline to sit down and read. I understood this, and I tried. I’d study for hours, go to night class until 5:30 a.m., rest for an hour and then start preparing for an 8 a.m. class. My whole life was a reading cycle. If I wasn’t in class or reading, I was at fellowship.

I first noticed I was struggling in the second semester of year two. I was studying a lot but still wasn’t meeting the workload. I consulted friends and colleagues, and they helped me study. I managed to pass that year.

The problem started in year three. This was in 2016. Medical students take their first professional MBBS exam in the third year, and all our results from the first year up to then are averaged as part of our continuous assessment (CA) and scored over 40. The professional exam was to be scored over 60 and combined with the CA to make 100 marks. The pass mark was 50.

There was no particular pass mark for the CA, but it’s advised that you score at least 20 on your CA so you can work towards scoring 30 or more in the exam and increase your chances of passing. My CA for anatomy was 20, but it was between 14 and 15 for physiology and biochemistry. I tried my best in the exam, but I ended up failing those two subjects.

The professional MBBS exams allow students to attempt to pass thrice before being asked to leave medical school. Four months later, I made my second attempt and passed physiology. But I still failed biochemistry. That meant I had to repeat year three and resit all the exams, even those I already passed.

My third and final attempt was in 2018. I failed all three courses. I still remember the day I saw the result—14 June 2018. My school posts the results on a noticeboard with a one-word remark beside each name: pass, resit, repeat, or withdraw.

I’d checked the noticeboard the night before, but it wasn’t there. Another classmate checked early the following day and saw it was up. So, they snapped the results and sent them to our class WhatsApp group. The remark beside my name was “withdraw”.

The withdrawal letter

It was tragic. The first person I told was my younger sister because we lived together in school. We both cried so much. Then, I informed my fellowship pastor. We were supposed to go somewhere together that day, so I texted him to share the news.

I didn’t know how to tell my parents. I decided to tell my uncle to help me inform my parents, but he worked offshore and wasn’t in town. I travelled home and stayed with my parents for almost a month but couldn’t say a word. It was eating me up, but I didn’t let them suspect a thing. I didn’t know how to tell them the last five years had gone down the drain.

I kept hoping that my uncle would come to our town so he’d help me. When I couldn’t bottle it any longer, I told my dad and begged him to help inform my mum. She was understandably upset. It was terrible. She lashed out, and her health even declined. All those years of school fees, pocket money and anticipation had just gone like that. She’d even started making plans for my induction. It was obvious I’d shattered her hopes.

My dad took it better. He didn’t say anything in anger and did his best to reassure me of his confidence in my academic skills. But I still felt terrible. Everything I’d ever imagined I wanted to be in life was connected to medicine, and I didn’t see any reason to live after losing that opportunity.

It was a period of severe depression for me. I lost hope and even attempted suicide twice. I’m just grateful that God raised people to help and pray for me. Some didn’t even know why they were praying for me, but those prayers kept me alive.

When I returned to school, I started looking for other departments to join. The school administration had given me a withdrawal letter, which I could take to other departments. If they accepted me, the school would just process my transfer.

I first went to the faculty of pharmacy — I was still hoping for a big-name course — but the dean outrightly refused. I had to return to the microbiology I’d previously run away from. They accepted, and I started 200 level in the 2018/2019 session.

Even though I didn’t make it, I don’t regret the five years I spent studying medicine and surgery. The discipline and training I got in medical school helped me in microbiology. Studying was easier, and I did much better. I even had time to become active in my campus fellowship. I took my final exams in 2022 and officially graduated in 2024 with a 4.34 CGPA — the gap was due to internal delays in processing students for clearance.

Ini’s result notification

It took me 12 years to earn a degree, but I like to see my experience as a preparation for life. I didn’t make it as a doctor, but I learned lessons I’ll never forget. It was the first time I’d ever failed anything in my life. I literally went from winning awards in school to struggling to pass. Thankfully, I didn’t drown.

My fellowship pastor told me something after I shared the news of failing medical school, and I still remember it. He said, “Okay. This thing has happened now. What will it make of you? Will it make a chicken or a beast out of you?”. I responded and said it’d make a beast out of me.

That question he asked stuck with me over the years. Through the months of depression and through other challenges, I kept telling myself I’d come out as a beast. I’m glad I’ve moved on.

I’m not afraid of my future. I can look at tomorrow with hope and faith. The Bible says, “The path of the just is like a shining light which shines brighter and brighter unto a perfect day,” and I stand by that. I’ll never have any doubts about my tomorrow again.

NEXT READ: It Haunts Me That I Never Got to Make My Parents Proud

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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.

What’s your earliest memory of money?

It’s the time I “took” ₦150 from my mum’s purse in Primary 2. I knew it was bad, but I did it. If she found out, she never confronted me.

Why ₦150?

My school had this thing called a check test. It was a type of midterm exam, and each child was to pay ₦150. When I told my mum, she said she didn’t have money. So, I had to collect it myself.

Was “I don’t have money” a regular phrase you heard growing up?

Not at first. My dad used to travel internationally to buy materials for his plumbing business, but he stopped and started doing local trips around the country instead. I never found out why.

I was small, but I noticed the changes. I remember starting primary school in a private school and suddenly withdrawing to attend a government school.

My dad gradually stopped bringing gifts from his trips, too. Then I started hearing, “I don’t have money.” Sometimes, he’d leave the house and not return for a long time.

My mum also moved from being a housewife to selling fruits at a major market in Onitsha, where we lived. I was used to seeing her at home whenever I came home from school, but she, too, started returning late. This was around 2006/2007.

I’d just started adjusting to our new reality when my mum passed away in 2012. My dad also started having issues paying rent, so he sent me and my siblings to live with my grandmother in the village.

I’m so sorry about your mum

Thanks. I was in JSS 2 and continued my secondary school education in the village. When I finished in 2017, there was no money to further my education, so I had to start working.

Sales girl jobs were the easiest options for secondary school certificate holders where I lived, and I found one at a provision store. My salary was ₦6k/month, which I used to fend for myself and provide for my sisters. I’m the second-born, but my elder sibling stayed back with an uncle in the city, so I became the oldest to the rest of my siblings.

I worked at the provision store for a year. Then, I decided to return to the city.

Why?

I was tired of living in the village and wanted to try going to university. My dad thought I was joking when I told him until I appeared in his one-room face-me-I-face-you apartment. I even left my sisters behind.

I told my dad I wanted to resume school, and his response was, “Hmm.” That clearly meant, “With which money?” I had to resort to looking for jobs if I hoped to make my school dream come true.

Did you find a job?

Yes. I found one as a marketer at a microfinance bank in 2019. Basically, we did esusu contribution (thrift collection), and my job was to enter the market and convince people to contribute with us. My salary was ₦15k/month, more than double what I made back in the village.

However, I could only save about ₦1k-₦2k monthly because my dad wasn’t doing great financially. He worked as “oso afia” — a middleman. You know those men you see standing around in the market and asking passersby what they want to buy? Then you tell them, and they take you to the person selling it. That’s what my dad did.

He made money from small commissions. His income wasn’t enough for anything, so I had to contribute to the home expenses.

I also sent about ₦5k monthly to my sisters back in the village. The rest of my salary went into my toiletries and transportation to work. I worked there for a year before I left in 2020.

Why did you leave?

The pressure was a lot. The bank expected me to bring people who could drop ₦1m in fixed deposits. But my customers were market people who used their money to trade, and I always missed my targets.

My bosses kept telling me to “apply pressure” and do what others were doing. When I asked the others what they were doing, it was that some of them were using their bodies. Me, I couldn’t do it, and I was also in a relationship. So I quit before they used pressure to wound me.

My sisters also moved to the city to manage with me and my dad around that time. Responsibilities increased, and then the lockdown happened. Omo, as soon as it was over, I had to look for another job. This time, it was as a sales girl at a clothing store.

How much did it pay?

₦15k/month. I was determined to write JAMB that year, so I started evening tutorial lessons. I told my uncles before I started because I knew I’d need their financial help. They told me to go ahead, and I paid ₦4,500 for the three-month tutorial. I paid ₦5,500 for the JAMB exam itself, and I scored 177.

Uni was out of the question, so I processed admission to a college of education and got in. But I deferred the admission because my uncles gave me stories when I called them to ask for money to pay the ₦8k acceptance fee.

It pained me that I didn’t have any money saved up, or I’d have paid it myself. But then again, the school fee was ₦65k. Where would I see the money for that?

Right

Thankfully, I was still working at the clothing store. But I also left after working for a year in 2021. I was tired and needed space to think about my life. I decided I wouldn’t look for another job. I’d use the time to find a handiwork to earn so I could make something of myself.

But that decision only lasted like three months. Things were so hard at home. My dad would go out and come back without money, and my siblings had to eat. Even if I wanted to close my mind to my own needs, I couldn’t just watch them starve. I was getting a little pocket money here and there from my boyfriend, but it wasn’t enough for us all.

So, I found another job in 2022 at a hospital. I was like an administrative assistant.

Was the pay any better?

Still ₦15k o. That’s the general salary for SSCE holders in my area. Only jobs in the state capital or major cities pay like ₦30k/month.

Fortunately, some of my siblings had started doing small small things to make money, so I could save about ₦6k/month. When we were really lucky, our dad would have enough money to feed us for two or three days, so we shared responsibilities like that. Sometimes, if everyone was broke, we slept hungry.

I actually loved my job at the hospital. I asked questions a lot and joined the other staff to do tests and prepare for operations. I even learnt to read lab results. The doctor was a gynaecologist, and I gained experience in things concerning women, like pregnancy and prenatal drugs.

Ironically, I discovered I was pregnant in 2023. I had to leave the hospital.

Did they ask you to leave?

No, but I was ashamed. The staff knew I wasn’t married, and nurses gossip a lot. I didn’t want to be at the centre of anyone’s gossip.

I only knew about my pregnancy in the third month. I typically see my period for five days, but I saw it for only three days during the first two months. I thought it was an infection, so I started saving money for treatment. One mind just told me to do a pregnancy test even though I was sure I used contraceptives. Alas, the baby was there.

I ran to my aunt’s place in confusion. Then I sent my dad a text to inform him about my condition. After that, I switched off my phone. When he finally got through to me, he asked me who was responsible. He knew my boyfriend, so I told him. He said, “So, what is he saying?” I responded, “I don’t know,” and he ended the call.

Was your boyfriend actually saying anything?

When I told him, he said, “It’s not true.” Then he said he wasn’t responsible. Then he accepted, but he grew distant. At one point, he stopped calling and taking my calls. I think the whole thing contributed to the mental breakdown I suffered.

My aunt took me to a psychiatric hospital for tests because I kept talking to myself and crying. I don’t even know if they found anything wrong; I was just in my own world.

I moved to an uncle’s house in January, and that’s when I started to feel like myself again. The neighbourhood is quiet, and I feel at peace. I had my baby two months ago, and I’ve not returned home since. My dad comes to visit me here. My baby’s father calls once in a while, but he doesn’t send money. I stopped asking when he kept posting me.

Does your uncle support you financially?

He provides most of what I need. I have a roof over my head, and I don’t have to worry about food. In February, I got a ₦15k/month teaching job at a school close to his house. I was seven months pregnant then. The salary is small, considering how expensive things have gotten, but I don’t spend money on transportation and food, so it works.

You have a baby now. Does your salary still cover your needs?

For now, yes. I don’t buy baby formula because I breastfeed. My mum’s family also gifted us thrifted baby clothes and diapers, so I won’t have to worry about new ones for a while. There are also immunisations for my baby, but those don’t cost much. I’m trying to save as much as I can because I know the time will come when my baby’s needs will double.

Oh, my school’s principal also increased my salary to ₦20k in May. I explained to her that I needed more money for my baby before I went on my six-week maternity leave, and she increased it when I returned. That woman really tried for me.

That’s nice. Let’s break down your typical monthly expenses

I have ₦35k saved up right now, and I plan to save more so I can learn how to make money online. I’m considering affiliate or digital marketing before the end of the year. The people I’ve asked told me I’ll need like ₦30k to start affiliate marketing. Then, I’ll still need to look for where to learn content marketing and social media ads as additional skills.

Why affiliate marketing?

I heard people are making money with it. I’d still like to go to the university for my degree, so I can grow and stop earning ₦15k -₦20k. But I need money to make that happen. I hear I can make up to 50% commission with affiliate marketing, and if I make enough sales, I can make ₦100k – ₦200k in a month. That’s really good money.

You mentioned you hadn’t been home since learning you were pregnant. Do you plan to return at any point?

I don’t think I can go back there again in this life. Apart from the fact that neighbours will use gossip to finish me, I don’t have to worry about feeding anyone here.

The pressure to provide for everyone was too much and was part of what pushed me to my baby’s father — he was giving me small small money at the time. Now, see where that’s gotten me. I’m okay where I am, please. At least if money enters my hand now, I can focus on school, not what someone will eat.

I’m curious. Do your siblings still call you for money?

No one calls me o. I guess they pity me now. They know it was the pressure that made me vulnerable, so the highest they bill me is ₦200 recharge card once in a while

Is there anything you want right now but can’t afford?

I learned that I need a laptop and steady internet connection for affiliate marketing. I don’t know what a steady connection means, but I assume it means my ₦3,500 monthly data won’t be enough. That’s why I plan to save until the end of the year. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to cover what I need.

Rooting for you. How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?

1. I would be in a different position now if billing wasn’t so much. Between February and now, I’ve saved ₦35k. Imagine what I could’ve had if I didn’t have so many responsibilities. I’m grateful that my pregnancy was smooth, but I still regret some of the steps I took.

I now ring it in my siblings’ ears that no one should carry burdens the way I did. Everyone should fend for themselves.

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What’s your earliest memory of money?

How so?

What did they do for money?

Ah

Were there other pointers as to when there was money and when there wasn’t?

When was the first time you worked for money?

Just two semesters?

What? Why?

To pursue uni admission, yeah?

Yikes. Sorry about that

Phew

I’m listening

What were your expenses like?

What happened?

What did you do next?

Nice

It already sounds like it didn’t end well

Damn

That’s quite a pivot

I’m screaming. What did you try next?

So, you were juggling both gigs?

How about the $5k savings?

Did He?

Love it for you

Girllll

What do these expenses look like in a typical month?

You’ve had an interesting financial journey. How has that shaped your thinking about money?

Why cybersecurity?

How would you describe your relationship with money?

Is there anything you want right now but can’t afford?

Do you have any financial regrets?

How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1 – 10?

As told to Boluwatife

As told to Boluwatife

Let’s talk about your earliest memory of money

Safe to say you were a daddy’s girl?

What did your parents do for money?

What were you spending all that money on?

How so?

Go on, please

Why makeup?

This is the second time you’ve mentioned “shopping for school”

What happened?

Was that difficult?

Trying to be broke… God, abeg

How did that go?

Any reason why it was your mum this time?

Was that good money at the time?

Yeah

How did that happen?

Sorry about that

I know, right?

Better pay?

I can relate. Let’s break down your typical monthly expenses

How would you describe your relationship with money?

I’m curious about how your parents’ very different money management styles shape your thinking about money

How do you feel about moving from chilling daddy’s girl to hustling babe?

What do future plans look like right now?

You mentioned looking for better job opportunities. Is there an ideal amount you’re looking for?

Is there something you want right now but can’t afford?

How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1 – 10?

How did the protest start?

Allegations of fraud and misconduct

The Minister of Education’s involvement

Indefinite closure

“Step Aside”

Let’s start from the beginning. When did the hustle start for you?

How “big” was ₦200? What could you buy with it?

Haha. You mentioned your uncle. Were you living with him?

Disappeared?

Can you paint me a picture of what things were like at your uncle’s?

You know what? That’s a good question

How did you plan to do that?

I’m screaming

Uncle, why?

But why did you leave the school?

Did you have any in mind?

Shots fired at the innocent plumber

Why didn’t you have savings, though?

Hmmm. So, back to your tailoring dilemma