For years, Gabriella*(30) spent all her income providing for her family of eight. Things changed when she hit a rough patch in 2024, lost her life savings and had to move back home.
In this story, she shares how her family turned on her because of her reduced financial capability, which has taught her a valuable lesson.
This is Gabriella’s story, as told to Boluwatife
My family situation has always been somewhat unusual.
As a child, I grew up with my grandparents because my parents had separated. I only started living with my dad and his family when my mum passed away in 2007. Then, he lost his job in the civil service a few years later, which signalled the beginning of a financial struggle that lasted for years.
Things nosedived quickly, and even feeding became difficult. My dad’s job loss was due to some fraud allegations, so he spent all his time fighting to be reinstated into the civil service. When he wasn’t doing that, he took on menial jobs while my step-mum tried to foot the bills.
I would’ve been a secondary school dropout if not for relatives from my mum’s family who periodically stepped in to pay my fees. Their goodwill pushed me to the university in 2012, but I knew that was where it ended — I needed to find a way to fend for myself if I hoped to get a university education.
I found a job marketing for a laundromat, but my ₦10k/month salary barely kept me afloat. During school holidays, I travelled to help my aunt with her boutique so she’d give me foodstuff and clothes when it was time to return to school.
Somehow, I managed to pay myself through uni and NYSC. Then, in 2018, I returned home and took up a ₦22k/month receptionist job. That’s when my responsibilities started.
My dad still hadn’t gotten a stable job, and the number of mouths to feed at home had increased. I have four siblings, and one of my sisters got pregnant and had a baby, so everyone had to support her. By “everyone”, I mean me. The whole house lived on my ₦22k salary. Tips usually brought the total figure to around ₦60k, almost all of which went into providing for the home.
The only bill I didn’t pay was rent, and it was because we lived in our own house. Every other thing was on me. I even gave my step-mum my ATM card to withdraw money at will. My workplace didn’t allow staff to use phones at work, and I didn’t want to be unreachable if they needed to buy baby food.
It’s not like I was excited to give all my money away. I felt drained, constantly telling myself I couldn’t afford anything because my family needed the money. I didn’t like being unable to move out or afford a master’s degree, but I had to consider my nephew. If I didn’t take care of the family, he’d starve.
However, I knew I had to move out if I hoped to reduce my responsibilities at home. So, I started deliberately keeping money aside for a new apartment. My tips grew my income over the years to an average of ₦100k/month, and I stopped depositing the full amount into my account. My stepmum still had the ATM card, so I ensured the account always had at least ₦50k.
By 2022, I’d saved enough money to move out. Fortunately, my dad also got reinstated into the civil service that year, and things started looking up. I left the hotel and did a two-month stint as an executive assistant at an NGO for ₦30k/month before moving to a travel agency for ₦80k/month.
My responsibilities at home reduced — I also collected my ATM card back — but my siblings still often called for money, and I always answered. By January 2024, I decided I was tired of working for people. Up until then, I’d always worked in toxic environments. I thought starting a business and being my own boss would be better.
Join 1,000+ Nigerians at The Naira Life Con by Zikoko for a day of real, raw conversations about money and financial freedom. Click here to buy an early bird ticket!
I had ₦800k in savings, and I decided it was enough to move to Uyo and start an interior decoration business selling raffia mats and designs. The idea of moving states came from two reasons.
First, I wanted to rebuild my life from somewhere new. Secondly, Uyo was better for my business. I could source raffia materials there at a cheaper price and maximise profits. I just needed to relocate, buy a few samples and post them on social media to get clients. It felt like a solid plan.
My sister stayed in Uyo, so she helped me get an apartment. I paid ₦250k for the rent and total package, and another ₦60k to move my things from our state to Uyo. The rest of the money was supposed to get basic furniture and start my business. But things didn’t exactly go as planned.
First of all, the apartment was completely terrible. I didn’t see the house before paying; I only got pictures. It was also after the issues started that my sister said she hadn’t visited the house either. She just saw the pictures and told me to pay.
It rained the first night I spent in the house, and the whole place leaked all night. The rain destroyed all my properties. When I tried to get a refund, it turned out that the previous tenant had inflated the rent by ₦100k and run away with the money. I tried every means to locate him, but he’s still at large. Even the ₦150k actual rent, I didn’t get back because the landlord claimed he didn’t do refunds and that he’d fix the roof. He never did.
I spent about three months in that house, during which time I had to arrange my mattress in one corner because of the terrible leaks and wake up several times during the night to pack water to stop the room from flooding.
There was also no electricity in the whole area, and I had to spend ₦500 almost daily to charge my phone and power bank. The lack of sleep and stress soon began to tell on me, and I was constantly sick and spending all my money on medication.
I couldn’t even push the business because I was always tired and frustrated. My phone was also constantly low because of the power situation, and customers couldn’t reach me.
Ultimately, I lost motivation, packed my things and moved back to my dad’s house in September 2024.
I came back with zero naira to my name. Since then, I’ve been trying to get into remote work. I’ve taken a few courses and gotten a few remote customer service gigs, but income hasn’t been consistent. My finances aren’t how they used to be, and my family’s new behaviour is a constant reminder.
My dad’s finances are stable now, and while I’m glad no one has to depend on me anymore, I can’t help but notice my family treats me differently now that they don’t “need” me. The respect is gone.
Besides my dad, everyone looks at me like someone who prefers to depend on them rather than go outside to work and make money. They don’t grasp the possibility of making money from home.
Last month, I travelled to my sister’s school to check on her because she was ill. One night, she left her phone charging on the floor, and I accidentally came across some messages between her and my other sister in Uyo.
I couldn’t believe what I read. My sisters were discussing me and saying things like, “If she had a job she was doing, would she leave the house to come and look after you in school?” They said my mates were travelling out and having something stable in their lives, while I was comfortable sitting in my father’s house.
They also said I hadn’t done anything for them, forgetting that at some point, I literally carried the burden of the whole family. Despite my financial situation, I still sent them money sometimes, but I guess it stopped being enough.
I’m really pained by how my family turned on me so quickly, but it’s also fuelling my determination to get something stable again. I’m working hard to improve my skills and land well-paying remote jobs so I can afford to move out again — permanently, this time.
I spent my 20s looking after family, and in just a few months of financial hardship, they turned their backs on me. I’m working towards improving my finances, and when that happens, I don’t intend to be responsible for anyone ever again.
I’ll never take on anyone’s bills anymore because ultimately, they’ll throw my help to my face if anything goes wrong and make it look like I never did anything. They’ve taught me a lesson, and it’s good I know where I stand now. My breadwinner days are over.
*Name has been changed for the sake of anonymity.
NEXT READ: My Family Resents Me for Becoming the Breadwinner After My Parents Retired
