Sometimes, life puts you in messy situations where you’re not sure if you’re doing the right thing or not. That’s what Na Me F— Up? is about — real Nigerians sharing the choices they’ve made, while you decide if they fucked up or not.
Pressure can push people into choices they never imagined making. For Ann* (25), going from the comfort of her uncle’s home back to poverty pushed her to make a reckless choice she’s still struggling to recover from.
When you’re done reading, you get to decide if she fucked up or not.
My sister and I grew up with our mum in a house where the roof leaked terribly whenever it rained. We hadn’t had electricity in years, and we barely ate proper food. Some nights, we went to bed hungry. So when our uncle offered my sister and I a place in his duplex in 2022, it felt like we had escaped hell.
I’d just written UTME for the second time, and she had just finished secondary school. For the first time in our lives, we were eating meals we’d only ever seen online. We watched TV every day, had unlimited internet, went on fun outings, and even got pocket money from him. He sponsored my Post–UTME lessons, and when I didn’t gain admission, he paid for my JAMB again in 2023. Living with him felt like stepping into a completely different world.
But, as generous as he was, he also regularly threatened to send us back home over the smallest things, like delaying chores or being sluggish. We lived in constant fear that one mistake would send us back to our old life, so we tried our best to be faultless.
Then, in October 2023, we made a huge mistake. My sister and I went out on her birthday without telling him, and we forgot to cook before leaving. He returned earlier than usual and was furious. He told us to pack out the next morning. We cried and begged until he allowed us to stay, but after that day, things weren’t the same. We knew we’d overstayed our welcome.
By January 2024, he told us he was travelling to Canada and asked us to go back home until he returned in February. Deep down, we knew it was his way of chasing us out. We left, and when he finally returned, he cut us off entirely.
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Returning home after two years of comfort was brutal. The economy had worsened, and so had our old living conditions. But what made it truly unbearable was how my mum reacted. She complained constantly about feeding us and pressured us to find money or move out by any means. One day, she called us a burden. Her words cut deeply and made me feel like a failure.
I slipped into depression. I’d written UTME three times and still wasn’t in school. I picked up odd jobs to save for JUPEB, but nothing I earned was enough. That was when my sister told a friend about our situation, and he asked if we were willing to go into Yahoo.
At first, I resisted, but the plan sounded like our only way out. By September 2024, I agreed on one condition: we’d stop as soon as we cashed out enough to rent a small place, furnish it, and pay for my JUPEB. My sister’s friends, who were already in the game, started teaching us.
We tried for months, but little money came in. Meanwhile, we needed money for data, upkeep, and to contribute at home, so we turned to online loan apps, convincing ourselves we’d pay everything back once we finally cashed out. By April, we’d borrowed from over fifteen loan apps and our total debt had crossed ₦700k, with almost double the interest.
When we finally realised that we weren’t going to make big money, we quit Yahoo. But the damage was already done. The interest kept piling up, and the loan sharks wouldn’t stop calling us and the people we knew. I couldn’t save for JUPEB, and with no income at all, I felt completely trapped.
My mum found out about the debt when the loan agents began calling her too. Instead of understanding the pressure that pushed us into desperation, she turned everything on me. She called me a disgrace and said I’d failed her, completely ignoring the fact that she was the one who told us to make money by any means.
Months later, the loans are still hanging over me. I know fraud is wrong, and the way we went about surviving was irresponsible, but at the time, the pressure clouded my judgment. I’m trying to rebuild my life, but it feels like I’m crawling through a tunnel with no light in sight.
We all know at least one person who’s always in need of urgent 2k. Unfortunately, Nigeria is that “person” to every country that has a few dollar bills to spare. With the country’s debt servicing rising from ₦8 trillion in 2024 to ₦16 trillion in 2025 under the Tinubu-led administration, the country can now easily pass as your average chronic debtor.
It’s becoming increasingly difficult to deny that the country may be facing a debt crisis, but the worst is yet to come, as experts have predicted that the country’s overall debt could reach ₦187.79 trillion by the end of 2025.
Here are some of the most interesting loans the Tinubu administration has taken this year and the goals they were supposed to achieve:
$500 million World Bank loan to boost economic resilience
In March 2025, President Tinubu, who is now one of the World Bank’s regular customers, bagged a $500 million loan from the global lender. The money was supposed to ease Nigeria’s growing economic struggles through the Community Action for Resilience and Economic Stimulus Program.
What this money was supposed to do for Nigerians: President Tinubu’s economic reforms have functioned as the weapon fashioned against Nigerians for two years now, and according to the presidency, this loan was supposed to fix that by strengthening the local communities hit hardest by inflation, food shortages, and instability. The plan was to do this by handing out targeted grants and livelihood support to low-income families and small businesses. It’s hard to find any relevant information that confirms how that’s going since the present administration has a history of being slow to disburse funds that were borrowed to sponsor projects.
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$1.08 billion World Bank loan for education
Nigeria started in April 2025 with a $1.08 billion loan from the World Bank. The loan was originally supposed to be a response fund to the COVID-19 pandemic, but since the approval is coming in an economically challenging year like 2025, it is being redirected to fund Nigeria’s other development priorities.
What this money was supposed to do for Nigerians: This loan was supposed to improve education, household resilience, and nutrition, particularly for underserved communities. According to the breakdown by the World Bank, $500 million was supposed to be allocated to an economic stimulus program, another $500 million directed toward enhancing education quality, while the remaining funds were supposed to be used to improve nutritional outcomes across the country. It has also been hard to track the progress of this program, and over 3 million children are still suffering from malnutrition in the country.
$747 million loan for the coastal highway
In July 2025, Nigeria decided to give the World Bank some breathing space by patronising other lenders. This time, it was Deutsche Bank and a crew of other financiers like the First Abu Dhabi Bank, African Export-Import Bank, and Zenith Bank, who stepped in to offer Nigeria a $747 million syndicated loan.
According to the Ministry of Finance, this is the largest infrastructure-specific loan of its kind in Nigeria’s history.
What this money was supposed to do for Nigerians: This loan will fund the first phase of the country’s ambitious 700-kilometre coastal highway, a multibillion-dollar megaproject expected to stretch from Lagos to Calabar over the next eight years. But, it’s worth noting that this initial financing only covers 47.47 km, which is roughly 6.7% of the total route. Even though this project hasn’t hit the halfway mark, it already has its fair share of drama. Oyo State Governor, Seyi Makinde, recently questioned the transparency of the projectbecause the Minister of Works, David Umahi, has refused to disclose the project’s actual cost.
$750 million loan for digital infrastructure and health access
On Tuesday, September 30, the World Bank put on its big lender hat again and announced another $750 million loan to Nigeria. The fund was designed to sponsor two development projects to boost the country’s digital infrastructure and healthcare preparedness, especially in underserved and vulnerable communities.
What this money was supposed to do for Nigerians: According to the Bank, $500 million was set aside for a project called the Building Resilient Digital Infrastructure for Growth in Nigeria (BRIDGE) project. This project, led by Nigeria’s Ministry of Communications, Innovation and Digital Economy, is expected to expand broadband access in rural and remote areas. The other $250 million was allocated to Phase II of the Health Security Programme in Western and Central Africa, with Nigeria as a key participant. The project is designed to help Nigeria strengthen its ability to respond to health emergencies. It’s too early to predict how this loan will be utilised since it was approved a few weeks ago.
$238 million loan for National Grid
In August 2025, President Tinubu took his borrowing business to Japan, where he secured a a $238 million loan from the Japan International Cooperation Agency to strengthen the country’s national power grid.
What this money was supposed to do for Nigerians: According to the president, the loan “will finance the expansion of the national grid. The project includes the construction of 102.95km of new 330kV double circuit lines, 104.59km of 132kV double circuit lines, four 330/132/33kV substations, two 132/33kV substations, and multiple line bay extensions to improve efficiency and reduce system losses.”
$300 million loan for Internally Displaced Persons (IDP)
If you’re thinking “another loan”? Yes, another loan. In August 2025, the government secured another $300 million loan from the World Bank; this time to support Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) and the communities hosting them in Northern Nigeria.
According to a statement released by the World Bank, the loan’s goal was to sponsor the Solutions for the Internally Displaced and Host Communities Project (SOLID), targeting areas most affected by conflict and displacement.
What this money was supposed to do for Nigerians: The project has ambitious goals of benefiting up to 7.4 million people, including 1.3 million IDPs, by improving access to basic services and creating economic opportunities.
$1 billion loan to finance agriculture
In September 2025, the government, through the Bank of Agriculture (BOA), secured another huge loan from a different big lender, the African Export-Import Bank (Afreximbank). The released fund was $1 billion, and according to BOA’s Head of Corporate Communications, Maikenti Akila, it will go toward setting up a National Fund for Smallholder Farmers.
What this money was supposed to do for Nigerians: This fund’s goal is to provide loans for seeds, fertilisers, agrochemicals, and mechanised services to help increase crop yields. Some of it will also go into building out infrastructure for storage, aggregation, and logistics. The status of this loan’s progress is also unknown at the time of publication.
Every country has its loans, but experts fear that the Nigerian government is going overboard with them. Our loan servicing bill for 2025 is much higher than the government’s budget for education, defence, security, infrastructure, and health.
While you cannot fix Nigeria’s debt problem, there are a few things you can do to demand transparency from the government:
Find out which ministry, the agency, or the contractor is responsible for implementing each loan-funded project. Use public records, watchdog groups, or civil society platforms like BudgIT or Tracka. Then ask the necessary questions through social media.
Call your senator or state assembly representatives for updates on the loans affecting your constituency.
Support media platforms that investigate spending by sharing their work, subscribing or donating if you can. If the government knows people are watching, it changes the game.
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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.
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What’s your earliest memory of money?
When I was in primary school, my dad would give my sister and me ₦20 daily for school. We always took food to school, so we usually spent the money on Goody Goody and other sweets.
My parents also gave our teacher extra money weekly in case we needed anything else. It was more like a safety net. They didn’t want us to handle “big” money because they feared we’d lose it, so they gave it to a trusted person instead.
We hardly went to the teacher to collect more money, though. We were too shy to ask, so the teacher bought stuff for us most of the time. That’s the first time I realised you needed money to buy nice things.
What was growing up like financially?
My family was middle-class. My dad was a civil servant, and my mum was a nurse at a teaching hospital. They both had cars, we lived in our home, and I attended private school up until university. There was never a time I felt like we didn’t have money.
The only thing was that my parents never wanted us kids to handle money. They preferred to give us money whenever we needed it, but that idea stopped working for me as I moved through secondary school. Asking for money from my parents usually went like:
Me: “I need money”
My parents: “What do you need it for? Haven’t you eaten?”
Haha. Because why do you need money when you aren’t hungry?
Exactly. They didn’t understand that I needed money as a young boy in secondary school. Sometimes, I wanted to buy airtime for my phone, and other times, I just wanted money to get things without having to explain.
This need drove me to do one of the first things I did for money. My parents had a building project near our house. So, whenever the labourers came to work, I convinced them to allow me to assist in pushing wheelbarrows or picking up cement.
My parents and other people would look at me like, “What is this boy doing?” I didn’t mind. The labourers gave me ₦500 – ₦1k for my work, and I was happy. It wasn’t much money, but it gave me a sense of self-worth and relief.
The next time I did a proper job for money was in uni.
Tell me about it
I got a transcribing gig by chance during my student internship at 300 level, around 2016/2017. A few other students and I were posted to the same place, and one day during break, one of them just asked, “Which one of you sabi write for here?”
The guy was also a graphics designer who used to get random gigs. That day, he got a connect asking for someone who could transcribe interviews. I’d never done anything like it, but I said I could do it. He connected me to the client, and I made ₦5k – ₦10k per gig, depending on the length of the interview. It was a good addition to my ₦30k – ₦50k monthly allowance from my parents.
I got my next job during NYSC in 2019. That’s where my career started.
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What was the job?
Public relations in a PR firm. NYSC posted me to a school, but I didn’t want that, so I searched for other placements. I spoke to a friend who served in a creative agency, and he encouraged me to see his boss.
When I got there, there were no more spaces left for corps members. However, the boss liked how intentional I was about finding an opportunity, so he referred me to his friend, who owned a PR firm. The man hired me on the spot after looking at my practically empty CV and paid me ₦30k/month to do basic PR stuff: write press releases and a little copywriting.
My boss also owned a digital business magazine, and he gave me a few tasks when there wasn’t much to work on the PR side. Three months into the job, he came to the office and said he wanted me to try investigative reporting on the police at the Third Mainland Bridge. He wanted me to find out why they typically stayed there and get them to share their experiences with criminals.
So, I went there, related well with the officers, and got stories out of them. My boss was so impressed when I gave him the final story that he gave me $100 and said he’d retain me. He increased my salary to ₦50k, and then after NYSC, he promoted me to PR officer. The promotion came with another salary bump to ₦100k.
Not bad
It wasn’t bad at all. Within a few months, I got another increase to ₦150k. That job taught me everything I know about PR. My boss also enrolled me in a course with the Nigerian Institute of Public Relations (NIPR) to help me upskill and gain more knowledge. He saw my commitment to the job and was willing to invest in me.
In 2021, someone on the account management team resigned, and my boss didn’t want to hire someone new. So, he asked if I could manage accounts. I hesitated and said, “I can, but I don’t have the contacts of the different media guys I’d need to work with.” He just hissed and was like, “Is that all?” He sent me different media contacts, and that’s how work started.
I became an account manager, interacting with the clients and working on PR and marketing proposals and pitch decks. The new role came with a salary increase: ₦250k.
Was that good money?
Oh, it was. At that point, I was living with my parents and spending money anyhow — I had no responsibilities.
I stayed at that job for two more years and left in 2023 when I felt good enough to chase better opportunities. After I left, I took a six-month contract gig with a new real estate development company as their PR and comms manager.
My job was basically to set them up, overhaul their website copy, and provide PR and communications strategy for their executives and directors. They paid me ₦1m for the six months, which was technically less than what I would’ve earned at my previous job, but I wanted the experience to boost my CV and LinkedIn.
I also started living alone in 2023. I rented a ₦500k/year self-contained apartment and furnished it a bit. After the real estate contract ended, I moved to another agency as a PR consultant/account manager. My pay was ₦300k/month. I worked there for a year until I was unexpectedly laid off.
Darn. What happened?
I had a minor issue with the founder while working on a client’s brief. We’d travelled to another state for the project, and when I returned to Lagos, I saw the lay-off notice. It was three days to the month’s end, and there was no notice period or severance pay.
That’s when it dawned on me how terrible I was with money. I was the “salary is coming, let me spend money” guy. I had zero naira saved, and the money left in my account didn’t last two weeks. It was so bad that I couldn’t afford data and had to rely on the WiFi in my compound. I had to turn off all the lights in the house because I couldn’t buy electricity units.
I also started asking people for urgent ₦2k. These were people who used to ask me for money. I couldn’t tell people I lost my job; I just said salaries were delayed. I didn’t even tell my parents immediately. They only found out because they came to see me after I switched off my phone for three days, just crying and feeling bad for myself.
So sorry you went through that
Thanks. It was very difficult. I also had to deal with neighbours constantly asking, “You no go work today?” I’d just give them lamba and be like, “Oh. I’m working from home today.”
I was jobless for about three months. I kept applying for jobs but didn’t get past the interview stage.
To survive, I relied on loans and whatever my parents sent me. I had to turn to loans because my landlord increased my rent to ₦700k, and the rent was due.
I borrowed over ₦1m in those three months: ₦500k from my bank, ₦300k from a microfinance bank, $200 from my friend in the US and some other small money here and there. It was a whole thing. Thankfully, my unemployed stint ended in February 2024, and I started repaying the loans gradually.
Phew. You got another job?
Yeah. One of many applications finally panned out, and I got the role of PR consultant for ₦400k/month. I still work there today.
My experience changed how I approach my relationship with money and employers. For the latter, I now understand that they can let anybody go whenever they please, so I need to stay prepared for that. It’s one reason I happily took on another ₦255k/month job when the recruiter contacted me on LinkedIn three months after I started the first.
So, I juggle two jobs right now, bringing my income to ₦655k/month. Both jobs are hybrid, and they don’t know I work elsewhere. My mentality right now is to grab as many opportunities as possible. I won’t say, “Oh. I have a job. I don’t need this opportunity.” Employers are funny, and anything can happen, so I need to have as many safety nets as possible. I still plan to sue the employer who laid me off, but let me get my money up first.
So, are you debt-free now?
I still owe my bank about ₦450k. My biggest challenge with the loans is the interest, especially with the microfinance bank. The interest increased whenever I missed any payment, and I struggled to remain on schedule.
Also, when I borrowed $200 from my friend, I got ₦210k after conversion. But the exchange rate keeps changing, so after I finished repaying her, I paid ₦340k in total. I prioritised settling my friend and the microfinance bank first because they were on my neck. My bank has been pretty chill — they just keep adding interest. I’m trying to pay a monthly amount to settle the debt, though.
Let’s break down your expenses in a typical month
After making these expenses, I usually leave the rest of my salary in another account as an emergency fund. I currently have ₦150k in that account. I don’t touch it unless absolutely necessary.
How would you describe your relationship with money?
I’ve definitely become better. I’ve become more curious about finances. I read other Naira Life stories and seek out resources to improve my knowledge. I now know I’m not supposed to spend everything I earn in a month; I need to leave something aside and prioritise needs instead of wants.
My priority this year is to get even more serious with my finances. My sister doesn’t earn as much as I do, but she has really healthy savings. Even people who used to tax me for money before are doing well with their finances now. I need to become more intentional.
So far, I’ve noticed I might be more of an investor than a saver. I currently keep my money in two platforms: one to save for rent and the other for dollar investments. I save ₦58k/month for rent and put around $50 – $70 in my Risevest.
What do you invest in?
I don’t have a particular investment tool in which I put the money. I just indicated I want medium-risk investments, so when I put money in my account, the platform spreads it out for me, and I get monthly returns. My portfolio is worth $250 now. Even if I don’t get returns, I’m happy that my money is in dollars, so it’s safe from inflation.
What kind of life would you say your income affords you?
My life hasn’t changed much between when I earned ₦250k and now that I earn ₦655k. Inflation has messed everything up such that even things I could afford then, I can’t try them now.
Before, I could enter Urban Jungle or Mr Price, a clothing store at the mall on my way home from work and get a nice shirt or pair of jeans. I can’t do that now. To be fair, I lived with my parents then. Now I have responsibilities and bills to pay. Still, things are much more expensive.
That said, I’ll also admit my salary makes me a bit more relaxed. I can repay loans and not worry about how I’ll survive the rest of the month without asking for urgent ₦2k.
Do you think you’d have a different lifestyle if you didn’t have debt?
Definitely. My one-month salary would pay most of my rent, and I’d have a little more leeway. I’d also be able to invest more.
I’m already picturing how my December would look because I’d have cleared my debt by then. I’ve been through a lot, and I just want to relax. I’ll probably buy a new phone and go on a three-day staycation.
What’s an ideal amount you think you should be earning?
I’ll be fine with ₦1m/month. I’m constantly looking for jobs to earn more, partly because of my layoff PTSD and not wanting to ever be in a situation where I’m penniless again.
I’m working towards upskilling and getting more certifications so I can get there. Interestingly, I would’ve gotten a ₦1m/month job a few months ago, but they wanted someone with more marketing experience. I intend to build myself so I’m better positioned for these kinds of jobs in the future.
Is there anything you want right now but can’t afford?
A car. This isn’t coming from a “wanting to be a big boy” angle. Living and working in Lagos without a car is very stressful and frankly unsustainable. I can’t be jumping buses every time. A car would just make it easier to move.
The kind of car I want costs around ₦15m. It’s expensive, but I don’t want a smaller car. Perhaps when I clear my debt, I’ll explore car financing options where I can pay part of the cost upfront and pay the rest over a few years.
What was the last thing you bought that made you happy?
I bought my home appliances in 2023: a TV, fridge, gas cooker, and air conditioner. The whole thing cost around ₦780k.
How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1 – 10?
6. I’m in a better place and no longer need to ask people for small loans. It will increase to a 7.5 or 8/10 when I clear my debt.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
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*Joseph (23) accidentally struck gold when he got a dollar-paying gig as a fresh uni student in 2023. Unfortunately, his new financial status triggered a wave of impulse spending and landed him in a ₦2m debt. It took him losing his job and fighting depression, but he’s finally on the road to recovery.
As told to Boluwatife
My first year in uni was the first time I made “serious money,” and it quickly got to my head.
Before entering university in 2023, I briefly looked for writing gigs on freelance sites. My family’s financial situation had changed for the worse after my parents fell ill and had to travel abroad for treatment, so I became very money-conscious. I needed to make money, and writing felt like a way to do that. But after slaving for hours and making $5 per gig, I decided it wasn’t worth the stress and abandoned the sites.
During the second semester, I decided to give writing another try. This time, I’d read that it was possible to cold-email online blogs and pitch my services to them. So, I started.
Anytime I found a blog, I looked for their email and shot my shot. I created a spreadsheet to track my cold emails, but stopped tracking after the first 100 applications. It was just too much to document.
Luck smiled on me in October 2023. I got a yes from a blog, and in the contract, they offered $600/month for three weekly articles. My initial thought was, “This is a scam.” I’d never received that kind of money before, and it felt too good to be true. When the first payment came in, I immediately converted it to naira — around ₦500k — because dollars didn’t feel like real money to my poor mind.
The first thing I did with my pay was get back at the girl I was dating. I knew she was seeing other guys, but I was broke and didn’t think I had the right to call her out. When people told me she was cheating, I ignored them. But when the money entered, I decided I couldn’t let myself be disrespected anymore.
So, I created the perfect plan. The same evening I got paid, I took her to a restaurant and spent the night at an impossibly expensive hotel. I spent ₦280k that night: ₦80k for the meal and ₦200k for the hotel. Then, I dumped her the following morning. She was so shocked.
In hindsight, it was a pretty dumb plan, but it was an ego trip for me. Also, I figured the rest of my salary wouldn’t finish that fast. Besides, I still had my job. ₦500k was big money, I’d be fine.
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I started walking around like a king. I knew my lecturers didn’t make close to what I earned, and there I was, a fresh student making so much money. I felt rich, and suddenly, I forgot what limits were.
My tastes went up immediately. I stopped eating at local spots because I didn’t like how the food looked. I once called an Uber, and when the ride came, I looked at the car, shook my head and walked away. I didn’t like how the car looked, so I didn’t ride in it.
Another time, my phone fell and the screen cracked. I didn’t pick it up again. I bought another one instead.
I became stupidly picky, and it wasn’t just food or cabs; it was everything. It was the clothes I wore, the people I talked to, and the sort of things I tolerated. I didn’t feel like I needed to respect anyone again.
I also started spending carelessly, mostly on girls. The funny thing was that I wasn’t really interested in sleeping with them. I’d just take them out and spend like crazy for the power trip. I wanted them to look at me differently and know I existed. God, I was so foolish.
My parents knew I was working, but didn’t know I earned that much. They just knew I had gradually stopped asking them for money. I even started sending money to my siblings for no reason.
My lifestyle eventually got me in trouble. I first realised how bad it had gotten in May 2024. I opened my bank app one day and saw I had zero naira. I was shocked, but I knew my salary was still coming. I just needed to find something to tide me over till then. That’s how my next problem began: loan apps.
I started with small ₦20k – ₦30k loans, but my lifestyle became more expensive, and those amounts finished in a week. So, I moved on to larger sums: ₦50k, ₦100k, even ₦200k. I tried to repay the loans, but it was a constant cycle of borrowing again when I settled one debt. By the end of August, my debt had reached ₦2m across seven loan apps. I got up to 20 calls daily from the apps asking for their money back.
The harassment was so much that I became scared to walk around school in fear of loan agents hanging around. I stopped going to class, and my state of mind also affected my work. I couldn’t concentrate, and my output at work reduced.
Then the worst happened. In September, my employer did some restructuring, and I was the first to be laid off. It shocked me like mad. I had exactly ₦300k in my account, over ₦2m in debt, and the salary I banked on suddenly disappeared.
It was the wake-up call I needed.
I blocked all the friends and people I hung out with so I wouldn’t have to spend money. I also changed my number to get the loan guys off my back for a while. My focus then wasn’t repaying them, it was finding a way to survive and get my life back on track.
Interestingly, readjusting my taste back to factory settings was more difficult than trying not to spend money. I went days without eating because I couldn’t stand the sight and taste of street food. When I eventually ate something, I’d buy from a restaurant and convince myself I earned it because I’d gone days without food.
By November, I’d exhausted the last ₦300k in my bank account. I knew it was only a matter of time before I’d be homeless because I couldn’t afford to renew my hostel rent.
So, I packed my load and went to live with my aunt while I looked for another job. I didn’t feel comfortable returning to my parents for money, so I tried to fix things on my own.
For the rest of 2024 and the first few months of 2025, I survived by writing assignments for fellow students and doing odd hustles for money. It’s a miracle I didn’t get carryovers because I totally abandoned school. I just needed money.
March came with a ray of hope. One of the blogs I cold-emailed liked my pitch and gave me a job for $200/month. No one needed to tell me to make better financial decisions this time. My first expense was a pair of boxers, because I couldn’t remember the last time I bought something for myself.
Then, I used the remaining salary to pay for a $120 copywriting course to upskill. I never want to be in a situation where I’m the easiest person to lay off because of skills or performance again.
As for my debt, I’m trying to pay it gradually. The loan agents somehow found my new number and are still calling me. One of them reached out on WhatsApp a few months ago and offered me a discount on my repayment. Instead of nearly ₦400k, they allowed me to repay only ₦150k so that they could clear the debt. I also paid a few others as I was getting money.
Right now, I owe about ₦1.5m, and I want to save enough money to pay them all off at once. I still live with my aunt, so I only take out $20 – $30 out of my pay every month for data and a few toiletries and save the rest. My savings is currently around $300, and when it grows to $700, I’ll clear my debt.
I often think about my financial situation and get depressed all over again. I constantly check my account balance to keep myself in check, and I remember when I earned really well. At some point, due to the exchange rate, my salary was close to ₦900k. Now, it’s barely ₦400k.
While I regret my choices, I don’t think the lifestyle was the problem. It was fun not worrying about money; it just wasn’t a $600 lifestyle. I wasn’t earning enough to be doing all that. I hope to grow to the point where I can comfortably have that kind of lifestyle again.
The goal is to eventually earn so much that I can upgrade my lifestyle without guilt. But for now, I’ll focus on saving my way out of debt and making better choices.
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I was looking to speak to people who got into millions of naira in debt about how they managed to pay it off when I found Tosin*.
In this story, the 34-year-old shares how he spent his life savings, plus a ₦2.7m loan, on a car that was supposed to make his life easier. Instead, it plunged him into debt after an unexpected job loss. It took him 15 months, but he managed to pay off his debt.
Here’s how he did it.
As told to Boluwatife
I got married in December 2021. As soon as my wife and I moved into our new apartment, I started thinking about getting a car. It was all I could think about.
To be honest, we didn’t really need the car. My wife took the staff bus to work, and my commute was pretty straightforward: two danfo rides and an okada.
Granted, public transportation was stressful and often annoying, especially when it rained and bus drivers dramatically raised the fare. But I’d been doing that for years, and it wasn’t exactly unbearable.
Given that I couldn’t afford a car on my ₦120k salary, I really shouldn’t have been preoccupied with getting one.
But I was.
It felt like the right next step after marriage. I kept thinking, “What happens when my wife gets pregnant? Would she be jumping buses?” or “When we have to attend an event together, do we jump okada?”
I also convinced myself that a car was an asset that would make our lives easier. Also, the cost of getting one will only increase with time, so why not get one as soon as possible? So, I started small and began saving ₦20k monthly towards the car.
At the same time, I was praying for one of those “XYZ celebrity did a giveaway and dashed me ₦2m” lucky moments, because how long was I supposed to save to meet the amount I needed? The smallest Toyota Corolla cost ₦2m.
The giveaway dream didn’t come true, but I landed a new job in August 2022, which bumped my salary to ₦300k/month. My wife’s job also increased her salary to ₦250k, bringing our cumulative income to ₦550k. It wasn’t enough to buy a car, but I came across interesting information.
How I got into debt
One afternoon in January 2023, I got an email from my bank advertising their loan service. It looked pretty straightforward. I didn’t have to walk into the bank to apply; I could just open the bank app, request the needed amount, and get an immediate credit alert.
I thought there wasn’t any harm in trying, so I checked and was eligible for a ₦2.7m loan. I was applying from my salary account, which helped with the amount I had access to. The annual interest rate was about 35%, meaning I’d pay back ₦3.2m+ over one year at around ₦270k/month.
It was the best way to finance a car for two reasons: I couldn’t save that amount in 5 years, and even if I could, the car’s price would have increased..
So, I spoke to my wife and we agreed we’d use her salary to repay the loan every month while we lived on my salary. With that settled, I secured the loan and bought a Toyota Corolla 2008 in February 2023 for ₦3.05m. I also used the ₦500k in my savings to settle other car necessities like documentation and registration.
I had no more savings and was in debt, but I felt fulfilled. I thought I’d achieved a dream using the most financially sound option possible, but I didn’t prepare for what happened next.
In March 2023, exactly one month after I bought my car, I lost my job.
My employer was arrested for fraud/money laundering, and everything fell apart.
Unemployment was scary. I had zero source of income with looming debt over my head.
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How I paid off my debt
It was immediately clear that the plan to use my wife’s salary to repay the loan wouldn’t work. We now needed the income to survive.
I started job-hunting. I must have sent my CV to every single job opening in Nigeria, even the ones outside where we lived in Lagos. Nothing came in the first two months. I only managed to meet the loan repayments in those months because my old workplace gave me ₦600k as severance pay.
By the third month, I had no money to repay the loan. The bank informed me they’d add an extra 2% interest per month as a penalty for any payment I missed or delayed. They also threatened legal action, and that’s when I became scared.
As the fourth month approached, I decided job-hunting wasn’t working, so I began exploring other options. I literally Googled “How to make money in Nigeria”, and one of the options I found was to become a cab driver with a ride-hailing platform.
At first, I resisted the idea. Going from wearing suits and ties to driving cabs felt like a downgrade, and I worried about the potential embarrassment of meeting people I knew while driving.
However, after about two weeks of mentally struggling with the idea, I had to accept that the embarrassment of getting arrested or harassed for leaving a loan delinquent was more significant than whatever embarrassment I’d feel driving cabs.
Plus, my lack of income had started to become a problem at home. I had a wife, child, and mother-in-law living with me, and my wife’s salary wasn’t enough to cover all our bills. Our house rent was also about to be due, and I had zero savings.
I had no choice. I signed up to become a driver on a ride-hailing platform and officially became a driver in August 2023.
Unfortunately for me, I started driving cabs at a time when everything had turned upside down. The fuel subsidy had been removed, and the cost of living skyrocketed. While I made around ₦15k-₦25k profits weekly, I learnt from other drivers that it was nothing compared to how much they made before 2023.
But I didn’t let that discourage me. I worked almost 24/7, leaving home as early as 5 a.m. and returning at 1 a.m. the next day. I often worked Monday through Sunday. At some point, I squatted with a friend on the Island so that I’d get more expensive rides frequently.
During the weekends, I accepted long Mainland to Island trips because they also paid really well. After two months on the app, my income moved to ₦60k – ₦80k weekly. This figure sometimes fluctuated, especially when I needed to fix things in the car or fuel scarcity reared its head, but my income was steady.
Every single kobo I made went into repaying the loan. I sometimes borrowed money from my wife when the repayment date was close and I didn’t have the amount needed.
I eventually repaid the full amount in May 2024, three months after the due date, with extra interest due to several delays and a few threatening emails from the bank.
They’ll probably never give me a loan again, but I’m glad I’m finally debt-free.
What I took away from my experience
I don’t think the loan itself was the problem. The problem was that I didn’t have a great backup plan.
I didn’t imagine for one second that I could lose my job, so I didn’t prepare for what would happen if I did. I’m just glad I used the loan to get something that eventually became an income source. That was a lifesaver. Imagine if I’d taken the loan to fund a wedding or party.
My experience hasn’t turned me off loans. I just need to be more calculative with every step I take now.
These days, my rule is: If I can’t afford something outright, I probably don’t need it. But if I absolutely need it and HAVE to take a loan for it, it must be something I can also make money from.
For instance, I can take a loan for a laptop only if I intend to use it for business. Otherwise, it’s just a status symbol, and it’s too easy for things to go wrong.
Also, if you have to borrow money, it’s better to try to get informal loans from family and friends first. I had to turn to a family member to borrow my ₦380k rent in 2023 as I was smack deep in the middle of the bank debt, and the repayment schedule was far more flexible.
The lender allowed me to repay only when I was settled with the bank debt. I’m grateful for that because it would’ve been too easy for me to sink into a debt cycle at that point. If I hadn’t found a family member willing to help, I’d have turned to loan apps and kept borrowing from X company to repay Y company.
That’s why I can never judge people who are disgraced by loan apps for defaulting on payments. You never know what they’re going through or how their situation deteriorated to that level.
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Kike* (27) is no stranger to the loan system. She’s been at it since she took her first ₦50k loan in 2019. It’s 2024, and she just unlocked a whole new risk level — taking out almost ₦80m in student loans to pursue an MBA. How’s that going?
As told to Boluwatife
I took my first loan in 2019. I was fresh out of university, earning ₦67k at my graduate trainee job, and shouldn’t have had money problems, especially since I had minimal financial responsibilities. Still, I somehow found myself on the loan path. Loan debt and I have been together ever since.
A little backstory: I didn’t exactly grow up with money. My dad wasn’t in the picture often, and my mum supported the family with her petty trading business. My mum’s a private person. Even though things weren’t great, my mum hardly talked about our financial limitations or sought help from people. She just did what she could, which was mostly enough to get us by.
I got by in university, even though I only received a ₦15k monthly allowance. I also got by during NYSC. In addition to the government’s ₦19,800 stipend, I received an extra ₦20k salary from the school I taught at for my PPA. Things were going pretty well until I landed that graduate trainee job at a Fast-Moving Consumer Goods (FMCG) company in 2019.
I’m not sure why my employer even tagged it “graduate trainee” because we were more like distributor managers. In addition to selling products to distributors and meeting sales targets, I also had to manage distributors and field executives, coordinate the van drivers, and ensure they had all the tools to work.
Most of the time, I spent out of pocket to repair one van here and one keke napep there. I even sometimes gave these drivers transport money just so there wouldn’t be distribution delays which would affect my targets. My salary wasn’t enough to cover those extra expenses, and that’s when I turned to loans. The first one was a ₦50k loan to float me until my salary came at the end of the month.
Looking back, I could’ve asked my family for help, but I was ashamed. I was a first-class graduate hustling in the market to sell FMCG products, and felt like a let-down. Also, my siblings most likely wouldn’t have given me a loan. My mum taught us not to ask for money and to stay contented with what we had. So, it would’ve been a whole thing trying to explain why I needed money.
The “Don’t ask” mentality extended to my friendships and relationships; I just had to sort out my needs myself, even if it meant taking loans.
In 2020, I left the FMCG for a bank job, and my salary bumped up to ₦75k for the three-month training school period. After training school, my salary increased to ₦300k. It was the first time I ever earned enough to save money.
The pandemic also hit during that period, and I worked from home for a couple of months. Since I didn’t have to spend on transportation, I could afford to keep money aside and even dabbled in stocks here and there.
But then the lockdown lifted, and after navigating Lagos Island traffic for several months, I realised I needed to get an apartment closer to my workplace. So, I took another ₦300k loan to meet the ₦950k rent I needed for a bed space in an apartment in Lekki.
To be honest, I shouldn’t have needed that loan. It’s just that my lifestyle sort of changed with the higher salary. I went from managing to prioritising my comfort, taking cab rides, and just generally having a good time. I still had to spend money on feeding, utility bills, and basic living expenses. So, though I was getting a decent chunk of money, I often returned to broke levels.
In 2021, I decided to learn software development. I thought it would be a good opportunity to earn extra money while working remotely. I needed a laptop for that, so I took another loan and got a Mackbook for ₦730k. I learned HTML and CSS for a bit, but I never got to finish my classes as I was almost always busy with work.
A few months after getting the laptop, I took another loan for eye surgery. That one cost ₦2m. By then, loans had become really accessible to me. I worked in a bank, so it was very easy to get them. I tried to only take loans for major projects, though. It was just a way to get quick financing.
Of course, the downside was that I couldn’t really stop taking the loans. With the monthly repayments and the interest rates, I rarely got my entire salary at the end of the month.
I started dreaming about japa in 2023. Actually, the dream came about a year before that. I wanted to explore my career potential and increase my earning power, so I decided to get an MBA in the UK. I didn’t have the money, but somehow, I knew the money would come. I just needed to get admission, secure a visa and leave Nigeria, and the rest would fall into place.
I got admission in 2023 and needed to pay a £2500 deposit. At the time, a pound was about ₦795, but everyone kept predicting the exchange rate would go down, so I delayed payment by about six months. When I eventually paid, the exchange rate had increased to ₦1k+. I ultimately paid almost ₦3m, which was like the entirety of my savings.
Next were visas and flight fees. I took a ₦2.5m loan from my bank in July and got about ₦2m in financial support from my family and friends — I haven’t repaid the bank loan. In total, I spent almost ₦7m on japa and related expenses and moved to the UK in September 2024.
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At this point, you’re probably wondering how I’m funding school fees. Well, I took a student loan. I found a private company that offered the loan while watching YouTube videos about japa. This was just around the time I secured admission. I only needed to provide proof of admission, and I got the £36k loan (almost ₦80m).
This is how it works: The company pays the balance of my school fees, which is about £24k+. Then, they’ll give me a £10k living allowance for my one-year study — the company will pay this throughout my study in stipends. They’ll also keep £1,400 for administrative charges.
My MBA program will end in September 2025, and I’m supposed to have gotten a job by January 2026 so I can start repaying at least £400/month. The repayment should span 11 years. I’ll be repaying about £70k (with interest) and should be free by 2037. The amount and repayment time will increase if I miss any payment.
Honestly, I know it’s a big gamble, but I’m willing to bet on myself. I’m not worried about the loan because I’m not in the UK to play. Aside from the stipends from the loan company, I don’t have any income right now, but I intend to find part-time jobs and internships as soon as I can. It would be even better if I could get these opportunities at top companies because they offer students as much as £20k/year.
I’m trying to avoid the temptation to apply for care jobs or other menial jobs here in the UK. They’ll pay well, but I need jobs in my field of study to increase my career prospects after I get my degree or even meet people who could form a vital part of my network.
After all this, the goal is to become a consultant for financial institutions. I hear they earn up to £100k/year. I’m keeping my options open, though. Who knows if I’ll find better career opportunities?
I’m trying to remain as positive as possible, considering the circumstances. I’m neck-deep in debt right now and it’s easy to worry, but I won’t do that. I just need to focus on achieving my goals. Maybe then I’ll finally be comfortable enough not to even think about taking a loan.
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?
In Primary 1, I sold my biscuits to my classmates for money. My parents gave me biscuits to school, but I preferred money. Money meant I could buy anything I wanted and not be limited to biscuits.
So, I sold the biscuits for ₦3 even though they were worth ₦5. Then, I spent ₦1 on sweets and saved ₦2. This was in 1993, so there were still ₦1 sweets. I did that till my elder sister found out after some weeks when she saw money with me and snitched.
Yikes. Were you punished?
No, but my parents held a family meeting. They wanted to understand why I sold my biscuits cheaper just because I wanted money. Like, what did I need the money for?
I don’t remember what I told them, but they started giving me ₦3 to school instead of the biscuits. I continued buying sweets and saving what was left. Every month, I’d give my mum what I’d saved and ask her to add money to buy me a shirt or anything that caught my interest. It was a good arrangement.
Tell me more about what growing up was like, financially
I was born with a silver spoon and lost it along the way. My dad was a big-time contractor and businessman; he had a printing press and a real estate business. My mum was a full housewife who also made aso ofi at home.
Unfortunately, our fortunes started to change around 1995. My dad bought a German company that was exiting Nigeria without knowing the company was already going under. He told me much later that the deal had cost him ₦35m — big money back then — and he’d also taken some loans from the bank.
When the company eventually folded up, we had to move to a smaller house, and my mum lost all her aso ofi customers. I must’ve been 8 when it happened, and I saw how we slowly went from wealthy to struggling.
What were some of the things that came with this major change?
First, we didn’t have a driver to take my siblings and me to school anymore. Then we started taking danfo buses. I also transferred to a nearby, less expensive school.
The Christmas clothes also stopped coming, and people stopped visiting us. Usually, during festive seasons, many visitors came to ask my dad for money, but that stopped.
My dad didn’t get as many contracts as he used to. He lost some of his influential friends due to his bank debt. However, he managed to sponsor me and my siblings through school by selling many of the landed properties he’d acquired.
Sounds tough. Do you remember the first time you worked for money?
That happened after graduating secondary school in 2005. I couldn’t start uni immediately because two of my elder sisters were in the polytechnic, and my dad couldn’t afford to send more children to school at the time.
So, I picked up a ₦2500/month teaching job at a small private school. Apart from the salary, I made small change teaching after-school lessons. The school charged each student ₦20 daily for those lessons, and the proprietor shared the money amongst the teachers. Sometimes, I made ₦100 extra, sometimes ₦800. It depended on how many students paid per day.
I worked at the school for two years until I started university in 2007. Because of our financial situation, I barely got an allowance from home. When the allowance came, it was between ₦3k – ₦5k for a month. So, I had to do several hustles to support myself.
What kind of hustles?
I joined the decoration unit of my university fellowship and often got small gigs outside the fellowship. They weren’t paid gigs, but I was fed before and after the job.
Sometimes, I got actual decoration gigs that paid in cash, and I had to share the money with the unit members I took to assist me. My share at the end of these jobs was mostly ₦5k.
When I was extra broke, I’d gather ₦200 each from a few friends and tell them to come eat in my room. Then, I’d buy foodstuff at the market and cook enough rice. It worked out because the portions I served were more than what my friends would get with ₦200 at the cafeteria, and I also got to eat out of the food.
That was how I survived university till I graduated in 2011.
What did you do next?
I worked as a manager at a clubhouse for six months, earning ₦12k/month before I left for NYSC in 2012.
My place of primary assignment was a school, and I wasn’t paid a salary. However, the local government paid me ₦1500/month, while the state government paid ₦5k/month. Then there was the ₦19800 allowance from NYSC.
I supplemented my income by transporting food items for fellow corps members. I served in the North, so whenever I was returning home, I’d ask them to give me a list of things they wanted me to bring back to the North— anything from beans and garri to gadgets.
Some of them even bought on credit and paid me in installments. I didn’t mind because I added healthy profits. I could buy a UK-used BlackBerry phone for ₦25k and sell it for ₦35k. I made ₦30k-₦50k monthly from that business.
Not bad
I didn’t pay for rent as I lived in a lodge, so I saved most of my income after the food and travel costs. I also applied for a master’s program during this time. The plan was to start my master’s degree immediately after NYSC.
I finished NYSC in 2013 and invested in a hire-purchase taxi business just before returning to school. I bought a local taxi for ₦320k and gave it to a driver who paid ₦15k weekly. The agreement was for him to pay ₦650k and then own the taxi afterwards. The weekly payment delivery essentially supported me through postgraduate school, which I finished in 2015.
What happened after postgraduate school?
I became a network marketer at a company that sold nutritional supplements. To work with the company, I registered with ₦36k. I had the option of selling the products or recruiting other people to join, and I chose the latter because I didn’t like the idea of selling products.
I earned ₦9500 for each person I recruited, and there were months when money didn’t come in at all. Then, sometimes, payments would come in quick succession, up to ₦100k. It was tough, but I had no other option, so I stuck with it.
The only positive thing about that job was that I learned to sound convincing and market anything to anybody. I also travelled a lot around Nigeria.
But how did you survive if payment wasn’t regular?
My fiancée had a job, and she often helped me out with cash. I also registered more accounts on the network company to increase my earnings through recruits; I went from having one account to 15, which helped the payments become a bit more regular.
Then, in 2016, I joined MMM. I made a lot of money at first — I already knew how to canvas people and got great referral bonuses. Then, I got carried away and joined a few other Ponzi schemes —Twinkas, Helping Hands, Donation Hub, etc. Anyway, I received sense when I lost about ₦6.5m after the schemes crashed.
Damn
I lost almost all I’d made from the networking marketing job and all the profit from the Ponzi schemes. I lived in a ₦65k/year apartment, but I started owing rent because I couldn’t pay it.
I tried to go into dog dealing to make money quickly, but I gave the dogs out after a few weeks. I was using all my money to feed the dogs, and I was starving myself. I decided it wasn’t worth it and focused on my job at the network company. Thankfully, I’d used some of my MMM money to rent an office space, so I decided to intensify my efforts.
I made reasonable money for a while. I got a car, got married, and things were reasonably okay. But I started having second thoughts about the network company.
What happened?
I started questioning my morality. I was good at what I did; I could convince people to join. But then these people joined and didn’t know how to do the same, so they didn’t make money.
Once, I recruited someone who used his house rent to register after hearing me speak. Unfortunately, he didn’t make money, and the landlord nearly chased him out. Another did the same with his child’s school fees. I became uncomfortable with the whole system; it was starting to look a lot like MMM. So, I quit in 2018 even though I had no alternative.
That’s when sapa hit me full-time. I lost my dad earlier in the year, which affected me mentally, and I couldn’t think of business ideas. I became extremely broke, and then my wife got pregnant. Things went downhill from there.
The baby came, and I sold my car to handle the bills. After some months, I moved my family to my parents’ house when I couldn’t afford rent anymore. Nine months after we had our first child, my wife became pregnant again.
Oh wow
There I was — broke, owing rent and trying to survive with a baby and another on the way. Also, my wife had left her job because of the babies and the fact that we changed locations.
I tried to make money from forex trading and crypto, but it was a series of ups and downs. I’d make money today and lose it the next day. I also had a stint driving cabs on an e-hailing app in 2019.
In 2020, I moved my family to a friend’s family house. It was a four-bedroom house, but we had access to two. My friend lived in one of the rooms with his wife. I lived in another room with my family and another friend who was also squatting. My wife and two children slept on the bed, and I and the other friend slept on the floor.
Later that year, a family member moved us to Lagos and rented an apartment for us. My wife got a small teaching job, which sustained us for a bit.
Were you still trading forex and crypto?
On and off, but it wasn’t profitable. In 2021, I landed a government contract to supply bricks for a project in my home state. I got it through some friends, and it was supposed to change my finances.
This is how these contracts work: the contractor funds the project and gets paid after different levels of completion. The contract was worth ₦40m, and I didn’t have money, so I borrowed it from a finance firm.
Unfortunately, the engineer overseeing the project wasn’t happy with me. He’d expected me to give him a ₦2m bribe, and when I didn’t, he decided to frustrate my payments. I finished the project in 2022 and was in a ₦40m+ debt.
Ah
It was a terrible period. The interest on the loan increased every day, and the finance firm threatened me several times.
At a point, the payments began coming in very small instalments. I had to involve a lawyer to retrieve the money when only ₦8m came in after several weeks. The lawyer’s fee sef was about ₦3m.
It took a year to get 90% of the project payment—about ₦36m. Thankfully, the finance firm understood my plight after I explained and gave me time to repay. I paid the ₦4m loan balance myself in 2023.
How did you do that?
I secured more contracts. I’m a restless person and don’t know how to sit back and watch, so I applied for several government contracts. In 2023, I got one to supply furniture to schools, made ₦2.5m, and used most of it to pay off some of the debt.
I got a job that same year and used part of my salary to pay off the balance until I cleared everything.
Tell me more about the job
The role was drilling engineer at a multinational oil company, a job I got by a stroke of luck. I was at a family friend’s event when someone randomly asked my wife if her husband needed a job. I sent my CV, got the interview invite and eventually got an offer — ₦1.4m/month, including bonuses.
I got promoted a few weeks ago, and my average salary is now ₦1.5m/month.
Whoosh. To think you were ₦40m in debt just about a year ago
It’s such a relief. My experience has taught me a big lesson: never give up. There were days I wanted to end it all, but I looked at my family and lost my nerve. Plus, I’m not a coward. I couldn’t run away from my problems.
However, there were days I tried to run. One evening, when I was still squatting with my friend, my baby was crying out of hunger, and there was nothing I could do. I just told my wife I was coming and walked out of the house. I switched off my phone and kept walking. I slept in a church that night.
I raised some money from a few people before I returned to the house the following morning. I found my wife crying, thinking something had happened to me.
Luckily, one of the guys we lived with borrowed her money that night so my baby could eat. I really felt terrible. As a man, I couldn’t feed myself, talk more of my family.
I’m sorry you went through that
2018 to 2022 were trying years for me, and I’m grateful they’re behind me now. I just kept telling myself that if I didn’t die during that period, everything would be fine. I also developed high blood pressure at some point. How many stories do I want to tell?
I can imagine. Have there been any lifestyle changes with the new income?
Well, I don’t owe rent again, and I can easily pay my kids’ school fees. My lifestyle hasn’t changed much except that I now invest heavily in different business ventures.
Aren’t you worried that some of your investments didn’t exactly do great in the past?
Nope. I face everything believing that I have God and no matter the outcome, I’ll survive. Moreover, business is in my DNA. I can’t do without it.
I’m currently investing in a tech startup designed to connect people globally via digital cooperative societies. My team and I are still in the app development and compliance stage, and I’ve spent over $2k on it.
I also leased some land to cultivate cassava and process garri in 2023, which cost me about ₦1.2m. I’d have started planting this year but couldn’t get farmers because I was busy with work. However, I intend to begin operations next year.
I also regularly pursue government contracts, which require constantly pumping in money. I have over ₦8m tied up in these contracts.
That’s a lot of money tied up in investments
I believe that money is like a Christmas goat. It’ll run away if you don’t tie it down, and your Christmas is gone. I’ll always spend money, so I think it’s better that it’s out there working for me.
That’s pretty much my relationship with money. I don’t believe in holding money; I either give it out, loan it, or invest it.
Let’s break down your typical monthly expenses
Is there anything you want right but can’t afford?
“Can’t afford” is relative, but I want three things: to get my tech startup running, move my family abroad while I stay back to hustle, and build a house. I’ll need about ₦5m to get the startup fully functional, and japa will cost a lot more.
I estimate I’ll need about ₦35m – ₦50m to build a house. I can’t get that from my salary, which is why I’m always on the lookout for contracts and business opportunities.
How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1 -10?
4.5. I’m grateful for where I am, but more must be done. I really want to influence society and help people, which is why I’m keen on the startup. It’ll help me reach as many people as possible and play a role in people’s lives.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
Debt is just like the proverbial shege — it touches everybody. Almost everyone has had to deal with debt at one point or another, either due to money mistakes or urgent needs. I asked six Nigerians to share how they handled debt and what they learned from the experience. Here’s what they said.
I’m a mechanic, and in 2022, one of my regular customers dropped his car in my garage for repairs. His car’s AC system had issues. It wasn’t the first time his car — or even other cars — would spend the night in the garage, but that night, thieves broke into my garage and stole car parts. This customer’s engine — worth about ₦500k — was stolen.
The man refused to hear any explanation and insisted that I had to replace the engine. We finally agreed that I’d pay him ₦300k in instalments over six months. I paid twice but was broke by the third month and begged for an extension. He refused and got me arrested. I spent four nights in jail before a family member borrowed me money to pay for that month.
I still went into more debt during the remaining months because I had to keep borrowing from loan apps to meet the customer’s payment and avoid another prison episode. I finally finished paying all the money I owed to several apps in January 2024.
I don’t pray to experience that kind of situation again. I now try to be careful with the type of cars I allow to sleep over in my garage. If they steal a Benz, what will I do? I also pay for vigilantes in my street for added security. More importantly, I’m now avoiding loan apps. They’re easy to get, but the interest rates will keep you in a borrowing cycle for a long time. It’s better to ask friends and family for loans.
Charles*, 39
I was one of the people who lost their money to MMM in 2016. The worst part was that it wasn’t just my money; I had borrowed people’s money, too.
I was trying to double my profit, so I took my ₦300k life savings, borrowed ₦500k from two other people, and put it into the scheme. When it crashed, I started running away from my creditors. Omo, there’s no swear these people didn’t send to me. I kept blocking their calls, but they always used new numbers to send texts filled with swears and curses.
I only got to pay one of them back in 2019. The other person had died, and I still feel guilty about it today. It’s a bad sign to owe a dead person money. I’ve even seen the person in my dreams a couple of times. I’d have given the person’s relatives the money if I knew any of them. Unfortunately, I don’t, so I just have to live with the guilt.
The experience has taught me never to borrow money for any investment again. There’s always risk in investment, and losing money is easy.
Titi, 24
I borrowed ₦100k from my mum’s ajo contribution money to buy sneakers to sell online in 2021.
Before then, I’d been seeing people post items to sell on their WhatsApp and thought it was a good idea. I didn’t know these people didn’t own everything they posted o. They just posted pictures and only bought the items when people paid for them.
My mum kept the contribution money with me for safekeeping, and I thought I could quickly use it for business before she needed it in about six months. That’s how I bought about ten sneakers and started posting on WhatsApp. The business didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, and when the six months came, I only had ₦40k to pay.
I had to come clean with my mum, and she was very disappointed. She had to borrow money to meet up, and I eventually paid her back after some months, but I know I destroyed her trust in me. I should’ve involved her right from the start. She’d have even warned me about the foolishness of using that much money to start a business I’d never tried before.
Joseph*, 22
I used to have a bit of a gambling problem. I don’t gamble as much now, but the dumbest thing I did was gamble ₦80k out of my school fees on a ticket I thought was “too sure” in 2023.
I lost the money, and instead of telling my parents, I borrowed ₦10k from a loan app and bet it on another ticket to triple the money. I lost that one, too. I was too scared to tell my parents, so I kept going to school like everything was okay. I missed four exams because of non-payment of school fees, but I still didn’t tell anybody.
My parents only found out when the loan app called them and told them to make me repay the loan or risk going to prison. I had to tell them everything. They’ve settled the debts now, but I automatically have four carry-overs. Even me, I know I made a series of terrible decisions.
Lizzy*, 29
I went into debt in 2020 after I trusted a close friend and agreed to stand in as a guarantor for him to collect a ₦700k loan from a microfinance bank. He used the money to japa without telling anyone. We only met his apartment completely empty.
Of course, the bank came to hold me when they didn’t see him. I had to repay that loan monthly for the next two years. Thinking about it still annoys me but I know I’ll catch this “friend” one day. He thinks he’s run away, but hand will still touch him. I can’t stand in as a guarantor for anyone anymore, though. I’ve learned my lesson.
Israel*, 33
I got scammed trying to japa in 2019 and lost about ₦1m. I had borrowed that money from a friend who works at the bank with the promise that I’d repay the money once I started working abroad.
But my agent ran away with my money. I was right back at square one, and I had a debt to settle. Fortunately, my friend was very understanding and told me to pay any amount I was comfortable paying monthly. I used a year to finish repaying that money, and he never once stressed me. He even returned ₦300k to me after I finished paying.
When I later asked him why he was so relaxed, he said it wasn’t the first time I’d borrowed money from him, and I always repaid. He said, “I know this situation isn’t your fault, but I know you and trusted that you’d do the right thing”.
That left me with something. We can’t always avoid unforeseen situations like debt, but having a good reputation might just make all the difference in how your creditor treats you.
As a chronic, unapologetic onigbese, does shame not visit you?
We’ve told everyone, your partner and debtees, what to do when you refuse to pay back your debts. Obviously, that hasn’t worked, so sit down and let us advise YOU on what to do when you’ve been stung by the bug of onigbese-ism.
Break coconut on your head
You’ve refused to pay back the money you owe, so obviously, you have a coconut head. We suggest you go head to head with an actual coconut and hope the impact will reset your brain and nerve endings, and you’ll do what’s right.
PS: If you land in the hospital and you call our name, we’ll deny you like newly elected politicians deny their wicked godfathers.
Wash your head with coconut water
After the much-needed factory reset, this’ll cleanse you of all rubbish behaviour, like holding on to people’s hard-earned money simply because you can.
Print “onigbese” on a t-shirt and make it your uniform
Since you can’t stop kidnapping people’s money, buy a plain T-shirt, print “I’m an onigbese” on it, and wear it around town. That way, people already know you can’t be trusted, and the next time people want to get into business with you or you ask for a loan, they’ll know what they’re getting into and flee.
Find shame
It’s public knowledge that you can’t shame the shameless, and there’s no one as shameless as an onigbese. But please, find shame so when people start dragging your name and everything you hold dear through the mud, you can feel it and finally pay them.
Beg for forgiveness
Make a list of all the people you owe and how much you owe them, and go on an apology tour. Just make sure you take their money with you before they drag you to Kirikiri for wasting their time.
Beg the police to arrest you
Take yourself to the nearest police station and beg them to put you in handcuffs and drag you into a cell. If you’re in the cell, you won’t see the people you’re currently owing money or anyone new to owe. And hopefully, when you come out, the fear of all you endured in the cell will lead you down the right path, one that isn’t filled with debt, shame and embarrassment.
Disappear
We know you. You’re probably not going to do anything we’ve said. Just pack your bags, leave the country, make sure you lay low for the rest of your life and tell your children to get ready to break generational curses. This is because the people you’re owing will swear for you, and at least one will work.
Granted, the Nigerian government owes a shit-ton of people a shit-ton of money. Your employers probably also owe you at work, but none of this compares to the feeling of living, copulating, and doing life with a renowned onigbese that owes everybody around them money.
It’ll be okay, though; we know exactly how you should handle it.
Collect your money small small
Congratulations to you, you fell in love and became a payment plan. Sometimes, the only way to deal with the shame and pay the people your partner owes is by tricking the love of your life, taking their money, and paying their debt little by little.
Report them to their olubawi
What do you do after your partner has been dragged on the internet, your good name has been tarnished, and someone’s begged you to beg your partner to pay them for the fifth time in a row? Take the matter to their family house and table it there. You’re not the first person to fall in love. But if the olubawi and your partner share the same brain cell, then our sincere apologies because nothing will change.
Shame them
Anyone who owes another person has no shame. But for your sake, we hope shaming them works and your LOML feels motivated enough to pay their debt.
Get a savings account
This savings account won’t be taking you away from poverty, but from the shame, disgrace, and ridicule you got yourself into when you decide to fall in love with a chronic onigbese. Why? you’ll need the money in there to pay off some,if not all, of their debt.
You? Have money? God forbid. As far as your sugar plum is concerned, you’re now
perpetually resting in the arms of negative account balances and zero funds.
Leave them
Everyone and their daddy can be owing you outside, but you deserve to have a little peace in your house. So, if you can, we suggest you leave your partner before they stop staining your white and fully drag you into the mud.
Become two onigbeses in a pod
If you can’t beat them, you join them. This way, you and the love of your life can become an onigbese couple: Loved by none and shamed by many.
