Forget whatever you experienced at the hands of your unfortunate ex; Nigerian recruiters are the OGs of ghosting. You’d think you wowed them at all five stages of the interview, only to wait for an employment letter that never comes.
It do usually pain
But there are ways to know when a recruiter is about to leave you on read, and that’s what I’m about to teach you.
The job requires more than three interview stages
Don’t think the fact that they’re calling you back for one million assessments makes you special. Any recruiter who does this is looking for a perfect candidate, and everyone knows that’s impossible. If you doubt me, just make one tiny mistake at stage seven and see if they’ll call you back.
The recruiter wears a suit
They’re too serious. If you make the mistake of showing up without a tie or laughing too much during the interview, it’s all over for you.
They don’t wear a suit
Nine times out of ten, recruiters like this work in organisations that take “work culture” seriously. So, odds are they’ll comb through your social media before even calling you. If they find something off, ghosting straight.
There are more than three interviewers
Even if almost everyone on the panel likes you, one person can decide to be the instrument of your village people.
The recruiter compliments your fashion sense
They think you have money and know that the ₦80k they plan to offer you can’t even pay for your Uber.
After salaries and a desire to NOT live under the bridge, work besties are the major reason many of us remain slaves to capitalism. There’s something about finding someone to gossip about your boss with that makes it all worth it.
But even work bestie-ships sink, so here’s how to know yours is about to hit the rocks.
They stop sending you gist
This is the biggest warning signal. Gist can’t finish at the office, so the only reason they’re not talking about it with you, or locking eyes when someone at the office does something dumb, is because they no longer value being your work bestie, or worse, they think you’ll snitch.
They start calling in sick without telling you
Taking a sick day — AKA leaving you to suffer through work all by yourself — without warning you? That bestie-ship is shaking.
Or they go on leave
How dare they take a break from capitalism when you’re still slaving away? What happened to going on leave together? It only means one thing: They don’t rate you anymore.
They suddenly know what they want to eat
Everyone knows work bestie-ships are like relationships. You both have to weigh the pros and cons of buying Iya Basira’s rice for lunch, even though you both know you’ll end up buying ewa agoyin in the end. Once they start making lunch decisions easily, just know there’s someone else.
They actually start working
If your work bestie starts letting a little thing like a performance review get in the way of hanging out with you at work, sorry to say, but you’re losing your friend to capitalism.
They start getting close to another coworker
That’s the betrayal of the highest order if you ask me. They’re rolling with basic bitches now?
You learn about their resignation when everyone else does
At this stage, you should already know to call them ex-work bestie because a real work bestie knows to send the resignation letter to you for edits even before sending it to HR.
Or they become your boss
Yeah, just forget it. Your friendship is over. How do you gossip about your boss when the person you’re sharing amebo notes with is the said boss? Also, how did they work out a promotion without your knowledge? Just look for another work bestie. Y’all have had a good run.
I’m an extrovert who doesn’t know how to keep friends. I know what you’re thinking: How’s that even possible? I don’t know either. All I know is I can walk into a room and vibe with everyone there, but it never goes past that. I’m terrible at keeping that “vibe” long enough to form an actual friendship.
I’ve always been like this. My social nature means I stand out among my mates, and people tend to flock to me, even during my secondary school days. But then, when they come around, I engage them for a while, lose interest and move to the next thing or person that catches my eye.
In university, I just had acquaintances. We called each other friends but never talked about the important things. I couldn’t just call them in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep, tell them how I was crushing on one guy, or share my worries about my mum’s health. And it wasn’t really their fault. I just didn’t know how to put my energy into being close to people like that.
So when I got into my friend group in 2019, I couldn’t believe my luck. I met Rachael* during NYSC orientation at the Iseyin camp. She’d noticed I always got food in mammy market, walked up to me one day and went, “Are you related to Dangote?” I was still trying to understand the question when she laughed and explained why she said so. We became pretty close, and even when I started to withdraw, she’d come to my bed and talk to me.
Just before the end of camp, my mum passed away, finally succumbing to her long-term heart issues, so I had to leave camp early and return home to Lagos. Rachael kept in touch and even came down to Lagos a week before the burial to be with me. That’s when I officially became part of her friend group. She got her three other friends to call to sympathise with me and made sure they also came for the burial. I hit it off with them, and before I knew it, they’d added me to their WhatsApp friend group.
Our friendship has lasted almost four years now because they put a lot into ensuring we all communicate on WhatsApp and even go on the odd girls’ trip. But I feel like the odd one out. Rachael and our other friends have known each other since university. I can just open our WhatsApp chat now and find 30+ messages of them sharing inside jokes or talking about someone I’ve never heard of.
They even like the same things. Anytime we plan a hangout, it’s almost always at someplace I don’t like because, by the time the others vote, I’m the only one with a different opinion. Let’s not even talk about how I’m a literal odd number. Before I joined, they were four in the group; I became number five. I sometimes feel like the third (or fifth) wheel, watching the others all perfectly paired up. They have this connection even outside our group activities, while the group is the primary thing I have in common with the four of them. It’s hard for me to just pick up the phone to call one of them and talk for hours.
Don’t get me wrong, they’re nice people, but I sometimes feel like I’m outside the group looking in. A perfect example is how, during Moyin*’s — one of our friends — wedding in 2021, Rachael would casually mention on the bridesmaids group chat that she’d discussed with Dara* when she slept over at her place the previous night, and they thought we needed to reconsider one thing or the other about our outfits. Like, aren’t we all in the same group for that purpose? What are these separate conversations about?
Even their parents know each other. It’s not strange to hear that Moyin’s mum called Rachael on her birthday, or that Dara’s mum sent fish to Moyin. But just three months ago, I had to travel to Abuja for work. Moyin’s mum lives in Abuja, so the day before I travelled, I asked Moyin to tell her mum I’d like to stay over at their place. I was told the house was full and that their dad didn’t like impromptu visits. I understood, but I wondered, what if it was Dara who needed a place to stay? Wouldn’t they have found a way to help? I felt hurt, but I know Moyin would’ve helped if it was her house I needed to stay in.
I’ve never told them how I feel because I don’t want to cause unnecessary drama. I know I can do a long group call just to rant, but I think I have to come to terms with the fact that they’ll always be closer to each other than me. They have common experiences I may never be able to relate to, but I guess that’s okay.
This is the closest I’ve ever gotten to real female friendships. I don’t have a best friend, but at least, I have people who look out for me, and that’s better than nothing.
*Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
Even though parents are extra in general, Nigerian parents take the cake. But just how extra are they? We asked people to tell us the wildest, most embarrassing thing their parents have done to or for them. Here’s what they said.
“My dad sexted with my boyfriend” — Amanda*, 20
I’m an only child, and my dad is very strict. I got my first phone at 18 only because I had to leave home for university. Anytime I came home for holidays, my dad would demand I limit my phone usage so we could “spend time as a family”.
One Saturday, during one holiday like that, I was exchanging suggestive texts with my boyfriend on WhatsApp when I had to leave my phone to run a brief errand. I still don’t know how my dad got my password, but he saw the chats. And when my boyfriend asked if I wanted to see how hard he was, I kid you not, my dad typed, “Yes, baby”. My boyfriend sent a dick pic, and my dad was horrified. When I got home that day, he beat me so much, I saw heaven and came back.
“My mum fought me in school over a tampon” — Tina*, 18
My mum and I weren’t the best of friends growing up. Maybe it was teenage rebellion, but we couldn’t understand or communicate well with each other. In JSS 3, I started menstruating and decided to try tampons since my friends always talked about them. I knew my mum would never allow me to use hers, so I just took some without her consent. She discovered they were missing while I was in school, and she searched my room and found the opened wrappers.
She was so pissed she called my school and had them punish me. She also arrived 30 minutes later and jumped me. We literally had a dirty fight on the floor in front of all my seniors and my crush! It was so embarrassing.
She eventually apologised, and we’re besties now that I’m older, but I still call her out for it at least once a week.
“My dad brought my naked baby pictures to school” — June*, 22
I was in Primary Six, and it was Children’s Day. Parents were invited, so my dad came armed with my stark naked baby pictures and shared them with all my teachers. No one asked him to bring the pictures o; he just did. My classmates saw them too, and made fun of me for the longest time after that incident.
Your parents might disapprove, but it shouldn’t stop you from attending Zikoko’s HERtitude — the hottest party for all the hot babes. Get tickets here.
“My mum visited my boss to warn him” — Henry, 27
My very first boss was toxic. He had crazy expectations, and the funny thing was it was an unpaid internship. He’d expect me to be at the office at 7 a.m. even though work started at 9. You also couldn’t leave the office until he left. It was difficult, but I was learning a lot, so I endured.
My mum had other plans. She never said anything suspicious when I complained about work stress, so imagine my shock when she walked into our office at 7 p.m. one day. Closing time was 5 p.m., but as usual, we were still there because of my boss. She requested to see him, and even though they spoke in his office, everyone on the floor heard her seriously warning and cussing him out. Then she told me to follow her home. Of course, I didn’t even try to resume at the office the next day.
I attended a military secondary school where my soldier father worked. Female students had to be on low-cut hair, and people who grew their hair longer than the required length would have their hair cut by the soldiers.
When we were writing WAEC in SS 3, I didn’t shave my hair because I wanted to grow it and just tied a really tight scarf every morning so my hair would shrink and appear low-cut. At home, my dad would remind me every other day to go shave my hair and just start growing it after WAEC, but I delayed, hoping he’d forget.
That’s how I went to school for my last paper after shrinking my hair as usual. And my dad just singled me out during our assembly, put a comb in my hair to stretch it out and proceeded to shave it in front of the entire school. He never apologised.
“She told the entire church about my bed-wetting issues” — John, 24
I had potty training issues and wet the bed at night till I was around 11 years old. My mother tried so many things, including making me pee on hot coals and waking me up at night to pee, but I still somehow peed on the bed.
When I was ten, my church was organising a deliverance for children, and she attended it with me and my siblings. At a point, the pastor said parents should declare their children’s issues so it would end forever, and this woman really took a microphone and announced my bed-wetting. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. All my friends and a couple of my classmates were there, so it spread to school too. The bed-wetting didn’t stop till about a year later, and I attribute the delay to the relentless bullying my mother’s “declaration” caused me in school.
“My mum slapped me in front of my crush” — Princess, 26
My mum had this best friend when I was younger. I naturally became close to her best friend’s son because we practically grew up together. I also started crushing on him.
Unfortunately for me, both mothers started quarrelling when I was 17, and I didn’t know. One day, I was walking with my mother and brothers around a popular T-junction in Port Harcourt, where we wanted to get a cab. My crush saw us and came to me so we could walk together. My mother and brothers were ahead of us. My crush and I were talking, and he soon started asking me out. I started forming hard-to-get, smiling sheepishly as he was toasting me.
When we got to where my mum was, and she noticed the smile on our faces, the next thing she did was slap the living daylight out of me in the presence of the boy and all the people around that busy junction.
Some passersby even had to hold me because I visibly saw stars. It was later I even got to know about the quarrel. That’s how I just received the brunt of other people’s malice o.
*Some names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
For this “A Day in the Life”, we’re chronicling what it means to hustle in Nigeria as Capitalism. Everyone loves to hate Capitalism, but according to him, he’s just misunderstood. Here’s a day in Capitalism’s life.
4:00 a.m.
I overslept today. I typically wake up by 3.40 a.m. so I can check up on my people in Lagos. Everyone claims that the people in Lagos are mad, mostly because of their roads and how they hardly sleep at home, but they’re my good friends. They really buy into my vision of working tirelessly to keep a few people stupidly rich. My enemies say they’re doing it because they’re avoiding my distant cousin, Sapa, but what’s not to love about how I run things?
If everyone had money, wouldn’t I go against the Holy Book that said, “There will always be the poor among us”? Wouldn’t I contribute to millions of beggars losing their job in this country?
I don’t want to think about things that’ll annoy me this morning, so I send dreams of poverty to 9-5ers, in case they think about ignoring their alarms.
12:00 p.m.
It’s just noon, and I’ve already done five presentations on “No matter how hard you work, you still won’t blow”. I don’t get why people just love to hate on me. All I do is burst my metaphorical ass every day to keep the wheels of society going. And what’s the thanks I get? Multiple jokes and complaints about me. This life is really not balanced.
4:00 p.m.
I just know some people will try to close early today — like they try to every day — so I have to put employers on alert. One “Can we have a quick chat?” here and one email there, and that should squash any early closure dream.
But why do people these days just love to be lazy? Before, we had people who took pride in spending all day at work and never taking leave so they could spend more time with me. But now, especially with this new breed of Gen Z, no one even gives a damn anymore. That’s how one told me last week that she won’t talk to me again because of her “mental health”. What’s that?
11:00 p.m.
It’s been a long day, and I briefly consider retirement, but I immediately send that evil thought back into the pit of socialism. Rest is for the dead, and my job is too important. I’m even considering changing my name to “No breaks”. Capitalism sounds old, and everyone has already attached it to something terrible.
But can I be honest? I low-key like that most people are scared of me. Atleast if I’m not loved, I know I’m respected. They know they can’t just ghost me if they want to keep being able to afford to spend all day on TikTok. Even if they ghost me for weeks or months, they always return.
I fall asleep, assured that I’ll always be the main character. I’ll always win. And as those spoiled Gen Z say it, that’s on period.
According to the Zikoko Bureau of Statistics, a week hardly passes on Nigerian Twitter without firstborns being the subject of one joke, drag, hot take or the other.
Everyone always has something to say about firstborns, and as advocates for the common man, we had to give firstborns the floor to share their thoughts.
The ones who are just tired
“I’m the olóríẹbí (family head), and as a Yoruba man from Ijebu, it means I always have to take the lead, especially in finances. I’m at the age when there are a lot of family weddings, burials and namings. But I’m not rich. No one cares if I take loans. Try to send olóríẹbí money too.” — Pa Gbade, 64
“They say I act like their junior mummy, but I can’t help it. They can make it easier for me by not waiting until everything has scattered before reaching out to me. I don’t have money for everything you need, but it’s not until EFCC arrests you for internet fraud that you’ll tell me you need money. Help me help you.” — Janet, 31
“Firstborns need check-ups too. Let us know you’re looking out for us. Not every time billing or thinking we’re fine. Also, sometimes. I need space. It doesn’t mean I hate you.” — Harvey, 25
The ones who want you to know you’re on your own
“I don’t have the solutions to all your problems. Emi gan mo need help.” — Tolu, 25
“I’m not your role model, please. I don’t have it all figured out.” — Uduak, 26
“Don’t do drugs. There is madness in our family, and I will leave you on the road if you craze.” — Stephanie, 26
“The same piece of advice I gave them when they were about to get their first jobs is what I want them to always know: Be responsible for every and anything you do.” — Abisola, 33
The ones who are tired of billing
“Don’t text me to “check on me”. Just ask for the money you want straight up.” — Ore, 26
“There’s no special allowance for firstborns o. It’s like you think money appears in my account as per birthright. Let me be a baby boy, please” — Joshah, 23
“The day I go broke, I’ll come back to you for urgent ₦2k. There’s no law against begging your younger ones.” — Grace, 28
The ones who really want their siblings to stay winning
“My sister is much younger, so I’d tell her to believe in herself. Think about how far you can go, then reach higher. Dare to dream.” — Stephan, 45
“I may be hard on you, but it’s because I know you’re capable of so much. You can do whatever you set your mind to. You can blow, and you will. And maybe then, you’ll stop billing me.” — Harmony, 27
The ones who want you to remember they’re human
“I’ve made mistakes, and I’m not perfect. I’m not always the best sibling, but all I do is out of a place of love. Be kind.” — Anne, 24
“Sometimes, I don’t want to pick calls or respond to your requests. No, I’m not being wicked. I just have a lot going on. You’re lucky to have someone older to rely on. I don’t. But adulthood and capitalism don’t discriminate. There’s only so much I can do.” — Joel, 35
“If I give you advice, and you take it, but it doesn’t produce the desired results, remember I’m not God. I advise because I care for you, but I’m not always right. And I don’t carry respect on my head. I deserve it because my eyes constantly see shege. It feels nice to be recognised for all the sacrifices I make.” — Tosin, 28
Whoever invented the word “literal” must’ve been thinking about Nigerian mums because why do they take everything so literally? Add religion to the mix, and it’s all over.
You: I’m dead tired.
Your mum:
Odds are you’ve never imagined how your mum would react to the concept of spirit animals. But Zikoko’s mind works in mysterious ways, so we did it for you, and this is what it’d look like.
It’s a typical Thursday evening, and everyone is gathered around the TV
Only this time, Daddy isn’t around to force everyone to watch the news. Your sibling somehow convinced Mummy to let everyone watch Nat Geo Wild instead of Zee World. How they did it, you don’t know.
And then it happens
The TV narrator describes how monkeys exhibit traits of intelligence and mischief far higher than their “animal” status, and you open your mouth to say the abominable: “Monkeys are so smart. I really think they’re my spirit animal”.
Mummy looks at you to be sure she’s not hearing things
Mummy: Monkey is your spirit animal? What does that one mean?
You: It’s just a saying o. Like a spirit that guides or protects someone. Most times, it just describes the characteristics that someone shares with the animal.
Mummy, silently looking at you
Wondering where she went wrong
You:
The moment you knew you fucked up
Mummy finally finds her voice
Mummy: So, Sola, I brought you up in the way of the Lord so you can wake up one day and decide it’s spiritual animal you want to be doing?
You: Mummy, it’s spirit…
Mummy: Will you shut up! I’m talking, and you’re talking? Somebody save me. So you want to be a monkey, Sola? Ọbọ!
Meanwhile, your siblings
Mummy (already in tears): Where have I gone wrong with these children? We’re still praying against spirit husbands and wives, and now, there are spiritual animals? Sola, of everything in this world to be, you want to be a monkey.
You:
Mummy: So you can’t say the Lion of Judah is your spirit animal. It’s monkey? Ah. Your father will hear this. In fact, everyone in this house is going for deliverance. The devil is in my home.
You: But, mummy, it was just a joke.
Mummy: That’s how the devil’s work starts. Today, it’s pressing phone. Tomorrow, it’s spiritual animal. And before I know it, you people will start drawing tattoo.
She faces your siblings
Mummy: What are you laughing at? Will you stand up and enter the room? All of you should better go and sleep because tomorrow morning is meeting us at pastor’s house. All of you will explain where this witchcraft started.
Everyone escapes into their rooms, grateful to have been released
Mummy won’t be sleeping, of course. She’ll spend all night praying against spiritual animals, all the while muttering under her breath:
“I didn’t kill my mother. These children will not kill me.”
Most interview questions are unnecessary, but this five-year-plan question is the worst of all. How do you even answer it? Do you lie and say you’d still be in their company while you scream “God forbid” in your mind? Do you say you don’t know?
Worry no more. We’ve got the perfect answers to this question.
“I live in the moment”
They’ll know you don’t bother yourself about things you can’t predict. You focus on solving problems here and now; isn’t that what employers want?
“Only God knows the future”
But honestly, how do they expect you to know? Just tell them you don’t know because you’re not God. Believe me, that’s a plus for honesty.
“Do you people want to fire me before then?”
They should already know you’ll likely still be in their company in five years, unless they already have plans to sack you.
“Five years older”
That’s the obvious answer, but they won’t expect anyone to say this, so you’ll get points for thinking outside the box.
“In a senior position earning a higher salary”
The best thing about this answer is, you aren’t promising to sit down in their company. If they offer you a higher salary, great. If not, you find your level.
“In your seat”
Old-fashioned, but might still work for some Nigerian bosses. It’ll show you’re really ambitious and goal-oriented — words recruiters just love to hear. There’s a small chance they’ll get pissed, but what’s life without a little risk?
“In [insert foreign country]”
So they don’t get blindsided when you eventually japa to the country of your dreams. If they act surprised, ask them, “Be honest. Don’t you also want to japa?” They’ll stop talking and quietly offer you the job.
“Alive and well”
Because living in Nigeria is an extreme sport, still having air in your lungs in five years is a legit accomplishment. Every employer would relate to this.
First of all, the girlies are always right — take it up with your neighbour if you disagree. But every once in a while, we seek advice from others, either because we want to reinforce just how right we are, or we actually want a second opinion.
Every girl is at least one of these ten people when seeking advice.
The one who just wants confirmation
She’s seeking advice, but in reality, she knows what she wants to hear. All she wants is for you to confirm what she already knows — she’s always right.
The O in “opposite”
She has a degree in doing the exact opposite of the advice she just received. Like, girl, why waste both of our times when you know you won’t even try to take the advice?
The last resort
She’ll only reach out for advice when she’s tried everything, and everything has scattered like undone eba on her head. Pro tip: Don’t try to advise this babe because chances are the issue is now unsolvable.
The one who might get you jailed
She’ll only ask for advice on stuff like how to bury a body or plant a tracking device on her boyfriend.
Did you hear about the party we’re hosting for the girlies? Zikoko is bringing all the hot babes to the yard for the hottest babes-only festival. Get your tickets here.
The one who just asks for asking sake
She’s probably asking for advice because everyone has dragged her for never wanting to hear someone else’s opinion. You can tell because she’ll likely stare at you with a faraway look in her eyes as you speak and just nod at intervals. Save your breath; what she wants to do is in her mind already.
She doesn’t have time for nonsense. Give her advice she doesn’t like, and you’ll probably never hear from her again. She’s also really good at throwing subs and ghosting.
The time waster
She comes for advice every two market days, ranting about the same problem every time. You’ve given every piece of advice you can think of, but things never work out as planned. It might be better to just commit her to God’s hands.
The “never mind”
She comes seeking advice, but in the middle of baring out her soul, she slams you with “never mind”. If you check it well, she likely has an ex-friend who spread all her dirty thongs in public when they had issues.
The advice shopper
If she doesn’t ask at least six different people’s opinions on one matter, she won’t rest. Then she’ll get confused about the final decision to take. Why won’t you be confused, Bisi?
