• In early 2016, Olaedo Elemuwa woke up to black soot covering every surface of her compound in Iwofe, Port Harcourt. She struggled to breathe, and for the rest of the day, sneezed out blackish mucus. Six years later, black soot still hangs over Port Harcourt like a cloud of impending doom.

    How are Port Harcourt residents living with the health and environmental impacts of illegal oil refining in a city once nicknamed “The Garden City”?

    Port Harcourt Soot

    “You wake up and check the time; it says 7 a.m. You look out the window, and it’s looking like 8 p.m.,” Elemuwa, who has lived all her life in Port Harcourt, says.

    Port Harcourt is a major city in the Niger Delta, the country’s oil-producing region. As home to many petroleum companies, air pollution isn’t a stranger to the city and its residents. In the last six years, black soot has spread dramatically throughout the city due to the indiscriminate burning of crude oil during the illegal refining process by oil thieves and illegal bunkers.

    In 2017, the Rivers State government set up a task force to combat the soot scourge. But the following year, Port Harcourt residents, frustrated that the promises had not yielded any tangible results, launched public protests under the hashtag #StoptheSoot

    A study by the Stakeholder Democracy Network estimates that Port Harcourt now houses five times the number of illegal refineries as it did five years ago. In that time, the total supply chain of illegally refined petroleum increased 24-fold.

    But the government has tried a few things: Nigerian law enforcement and the military have raided illegal bunkers, burning hundreds of them in the process — albeit destructive actions which only further pollute the city

    So how are residents facing life under these conditions?

    Nse-Obot Afaha, a university student at Rivers State University of Science and Technology, cleans her room multiple times daily and rarely wears white clothing. “If I wash my clothes and hang them outside, black soot quickly settles on them.” Blessing Awulotu, though, has a washing machine that spins her clothes almost dry. Then she spreads them in her sitting room.

    Health professionals predict that if the soot situation persists, it could lead to life-threatening consequences for residents in the long term. AirVisual reports Port Harcourt’s particulate matter at PM2.5 concentration, 4.8 times above the WHO annual air quality guideline value. Continued exposure to such poor air quality greatly increases the risk of respiratory infections, heart disease and lung cancer. Doctors warn that more than six million Rivers State residents are at risk of such diseases. 

    Image via Ijaw Nation

    Saviour, a Port Harcourt-based trader, tells me, “We are all smokers in this city. The only difference is that it’s soot we’re smoking.” 

    And while some residents have made lifestyle adjustments to live a little better, others have migrated — but everyone can’t leave their home. 

    Precious Nwadike, a senior nurse, has chosen to stay put after turning down an offer to move to Lagos in 2019. She doesn’t think Lagos is any better. ”It stinks and has a housing problem.” Uchechukwu* is in the second year of a four-year course at University of Port Harcourt. For Blessing mentioned earlier, she can’t just leave her booming businesses as she would have to start life afresh. Olaedo Elemuwa wants to leave the polluted city, but she would feel guilty leaving her family behind — she is especially concerned for her mother, who suffers bronchitis.

    In January 2022, the Rivers State Government put a  ₦2m bounty on each illegal refinery. Some alleged offenders have been caught — In January 2022, the Nigerian Navy arrested five suspected oil thieves after simultaneous raids. But despite the tough-talking by the state government, residents claim that the illegal business continues to boom, which makes them suspect that the state’s leadership is being lenient in tackling the menace. 

    “It’s not a secret,” a respondent who asked for anonymity says. “The governor does not need to promise anybody any money. We see these people every day and we know who they are. If the government wants to catch them; they know where to look.”

    In January 2022, a video surfaced on Twitter showing officers of the Nigerian Police force attempting to resist efforts by the government to destroy an illegal bunkering site.

    Some other residents claim that the same law enforcement agents tasked with nipping the situation in the bud are also being hired by illegal refiners. “So who will they be loyal to?” a resident of Akpajo asks.

    “It’s organised crime. Even fuelling stations buy from the illegal refineries. Drivers charge these people heavily to transport the illegal petroleum products because they know what they’re carrying. These drivers pay off mobile policemen at checkpoints on the highway between Rivers and Imo state, I have witnessed this happen too many times on  my inter-state trips,” he says.

    In the face of peril, residents continue to go about their daily lives. Awulotu tells me that people generally don’t take the situation seriously. While there is the occasional outcry, people have to work to meet more pressing needs like their daily bread. After all, “Na person wey see food chop dey protest.”

    Lack of proper sensitisation also poses a problem: many residents don’t understand the severity of the situation as the soot doesn’t have immediate consequences. “Most people don’t know how hazardous it is,” Awulotu says. “They just know that if e touch your nose, black something go comot. If you carry your leg enter house, everywhere go black. 

    “Because we’re not feeling any immediate effects on our skins, it looks like we can live with us. But I know we really can’t.”

    Public health workers are convinced that there’s been a surge in respiratory and heart diseases cases in Rivers State in recent times. But a culture of poor record-keeping and tracking means it’s difficult to say for sure. 

    In January 2022, the Nigerian federal government promised to establish three modular refineries in the Niger Delta to halt the illegal petroleum refining activities and their impact on residents in the affected locations.

    Meanwhile, Blessing Awulotu looks to the rainy season for temporary succour, as she claims heavy rains disrupt activities of the illegal refineries. Meantime, she’s masking up and hoping that sometime soon, the government will “do something.”


    RELATED: Fuel Scarcity Again? Here’s the Full NNPC Gist

  • Answer the questions in this quiz and we’ll tell you the Nigerian song that best describes your love life. Is it; ‘The Best’ or ‘Lonely’.

    Find out:

  • Did you miss your chance at true love? Or you’re yet to find one? Take the quiz and we’ll tell you:

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


    The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” lives two lives. She’s a trader during the day and a pastor in between/when she’s not trading. For today’s “A Week In The Life”, she talks about her decision not to be a full-time pastor, balancing a 9-5 alongside her divine calling, and the many ways she enjoys herself as a human being.

    MONDAY:

    No matter what time I sleep, my body automatically wakes up at 7 a.m. The first thing I do after waking up is to prepare a light breakfast of tea and yellow crackers biscuit. 

    Breakfast ends at around 7:15 a.m. and I spend some time replying to WhatsApp messages from the night before. At around 7:30 a.m., I’m back in my bed preparing for round two of sleep. 

    Because I live two lives, both as a pastor and a trader, my day starts and ends at interesting times. On most days, I’m up till 3 a.m. praying and so I don’t leave for my shop until around 11 a.m. Luckily for me, the business I’m into — buying and selling of children’s bags, water bottles etc — doesn’t pick up until around noon so I’m good. If I was a full-time pastor my schedule would have been way more flexible. Sadly, I love my independence and I’d rather not be at the mercy of my congregation for money for food, clothing or school fees. 

    That’s why at 7:45 a.m. I turn off my data, put my phone on “do not disturb” and start my second round of sleep. When I wake up from round two of sleep, then my day will fully begin. 


    TUESDAY:

    I’m feeling nostalgic today and reminiscing about the past. It’s funny that there was a time when I wasn’t ready to serve God. At the time I received my first divine calling, I was running a fairly successful frozen food business in the heart of Lagos, and so the idea of leaving enjoyment for God seemed impossible to me. 

    God “called” me almost nine times, through people and directly, and I just let that phone ring and ring. At the time, I was certain that I was built for enjoyment alone. 

    However, calamity struck my perfect life. The abridged version is that the person who gave me capital to set up and run my business collected everything I had built and left me out to dry. 

    And so, like the prodigal son, I ended up returning to my father’s house. Ever welcoming, I was received with open hands where I enrolled into various schools under the church. 

    Since that experience, I learnt to put God first in all my dealings. I didn’t complain when I had to stop wearing trousers and weave on. I also accepted to live by the doctrine of the church. 

    In fact, when I wanted to start my trading business, I put a list of 10 businesses I was interested in with the boutique business at the top of the list. But a spirit kept on telling me that the boutique business wasn’t for me. To be sure, I gave this list to a few pastors to pray for me and a large majority ended up picking my current business. 

    As a now loyal servant of God, I let his will be done in my life and followed suit. I can say without any doubt that following God has been the best decision I’ve made. I’m not wealthy but he always makes a way for me.

    What more can I ask for?

    WEDNESDAY:

    I’ve had an interesting Wednesday. My day started as usual; I slept late, woke up to eat, went back to bed and opened the shop by 11 a.m. 

    However, today was the first day this month where I made over ₦50,000 revenue in one sale. And to think that minutes before the customer walked in I was flirting with the idea of going to the market because the day was slow. I was in the shop from 11 a.m. till 3 p.m. and not a single customer came in. Just as I was about to start packing, the man came to restock new bags, water bottles and socks for his kids. When he paid for the goods, I screamed internally.

    Almost immediately after he left, I got another call from someone in my congregation asking me to send my account number. I told the person not to bother but they kept on insisting and blowing up my phone with calls. According to the man, I was the only pastor who prayed for him without collecting money. Instead, I even gave him transport fare after each prayer session. 

    Reluctantly, I sent my account number to prevent him from blowing up my phone. When I saw the alert, I screamed out and shouted Jesus!

    This person who was having challenges at one point sent me ₦150,000 as appreciation. I still couldn’t believe it even when I called to thank him later in the day.  

    Although the day is ending now, I’m still excited about how much of a good day I’ve had. I hope the rest of my week is also filled with unexpected good tidings. 

    THURSDAY:

    I don’t go back to sleep when I wake up today. In fact, I wake up at 6 a.m., have a bath and leave my house by 6:30 a.m.

    Today is different because I’m going to Idumota market to buy goods for my shop. It takes roughly two to four hours, without traffic, to make the journey from my house at Iyana Ipaja to Idumota. 

    With traffic, I might as well sleep on the road. Out of the many options available to me, I prefer entering a straight danfo from the park to my house. Although it’s more expensive, it’s the most convenient. The other options drop me way off from my intended destination and usually involve trekking. Me, I no dey for Israelite journey. 

    At the market today, I received a shock. The goods I last bought from the market at ₦1,800 and sold at ₦2,500 are now being sold for ₦2,500 in the market. This means that I didn’t make a profit from the last batch of goods I sold. I have no option but to still buy a new batch like that. 

    It seems that nowadays, it takes the grace of God for businesses in Nigeria to thrive. Although I feel a little pessimistic, I’m deciding to trust in God’s plan for me. 

    I’m tired and overspent both physically and financially, but I’m grateful when I finally buy the last item on my list. The next stop is home sweet home. 

    FRIDAY:

    People always ask how I deal with the expectations that come with being a pastor. I tell them that as long as I honour God, respect the doctrine of my church and remain a good ambassador of the religion, I’m fine. These requirements don’t stop me in any way from being myself. 

    I’m not afraid of any man as long as I know that my behaviour is in line with God’s teaching. 

    Let me tell you something, I’m a minister of enjoyment. On days when I decide not to go to church or attend to customers or my congregation, I’ll run to Godly parties where I can enjoy myself. 

    Today is one of those days. For a few hours today, I’m closing my business and pastor life to attend a friend’s 50th birthday party. I’ve been looking forward to this party because my friend promised me that the DJ will play old school classics. Personally, I’m looking forward to screaming “Last night, I dreamt of San Pedro,” followed by  “Hello, is it me you’re looking for.”

    Whether it’s prayer, business or advising people, my guiding philosophy in life is that whatever I lay my hand on shall prosper, even if it’s enjoyment. Whatever I do, I must do it well and enjoy it. 


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

  • Turning 30 can feel like the morning after a wild partying spree; you can still feel the euphoria from the night before, but you realise, “Oh shit. I have to get my life together or I’m die.”

    It doesn’t have to be so serious, though. None of us have totally hacked the whole getting-your-life-together thing. In fact, some of the expectations you have as you get older may very well be unnecessary pressure you don’t have to succumb to; like getting married or having ten kids to carry on the family name. No, mother. Please.

    Still, it’s not a bad idea to know how to do at least five things on this list before you turn the big 30.

    You’ve got this!

    1. Shoot shots (romantic and platonic)

    In this day and age of social media, it all starts with how you slide into DMs. Don’t slide in with bathroom slippers. Go in with your best suede shoes. You have to come correct if you want to find a BFF or love of your life.

    2 Hold conversations

    Sure, this might come naturally to some people, but you’d agree that “Wyd?” could be better off as “I noticed you do/like xyz. Can you tell me about that?” Try this angle and see if they keep ignoring your DMs.

    3. Apologise

    You have to learn to lower your shoulders and genuinely say “I’m sorry” when you’re in the wrong. It will feel uncomfortable, but you won’t die. We promise.

    4. Communicate

    Effective communication saves other people from trying to figure out what’s in your head (how you feel, or what you want, etc). This, too, can feel super uncomfortable, but it’s a skill you will be thankful for in the long-run.

    5. Cook beans without burning the house down

    Unless you want your landlord to come for you. Plus, life is less scary knowing that you have at least one survival skill – whipping up a decent meal.

    6. Cross the road

    Whatever you do, don’t start out by crossing at a T-junction. Start small; from your parlour to your room, a small street here and there. Learn this so your friends can rest knowing you won’t get yourself killed by oncoming traffic. Also, when in doubt, look left, look right, and look left again.

    7. Make semo/eba/amala/pap/custard without lumps

    This has nothing to do with being husband or wife material. It’s so you don’t waste these ingredients. Have you seen how expensive they are these days? Plus, the satisfaction you get knowing you did that shit doesn’t have part two.

    8. Identify a scam message/scammer

    You work too hard for your life savings to disappear in the blink of an eye. Stay alert in these physical and online streets, dear.

    9. Drive on a Nigerian road

    If this doesn’t kill you by the time you are thirty, then you’ll know that you’ve conquered it. Phew!

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    10. Not catch feelings for everyone you talk to

    Do you like “breakfast” served to you on a golden platter? Thought as much. You’ll have to start by rewiring your brain, because you will meet A LOT of amazing people. The aim is not to fall in love with them all, but to experience them as they come and build connections.

    11. Get your finances together

    We don’t mean to sound like your mum, but she’s right. Saving, investing, taking stock and creating budgets are actually important things you should get a hang of before thirty if you don’t want to be an onigbese.

    12. Switch from generator to light with the speed of Usain Bolt

    As a Nigerian, once you’ve mastered this, add: “I am not your mate” to your social media bio.

    13. Say “NO” with your full chest

    You didn’t go through torturous years of adulting to be scared of offending people or establishing your boundaries. Las las , they’ll be fine.

    14. Shake your ass on a yacht

    A.k.a know how to enjoy life, after all, you literally get only one shot at it. And no, bingeing on Netflix for sixty hours straight doesn’t make the cut. Get your best buds and make beautiful memories in the outside.

    15. Give A-class head

    Rule number one: no teeth. Please and thanks. It’s okay to ask questions and figure out what works for your partner. That’s actually a way to hack it and make them call you names that’ll make you blush.

    If this article is giving zen vibes, then you should probably share it right away. T for tenks!

  • Life can be tougher than leather, but the ten things on this list make everything better and bearable. Make sure you hold on to number four and eight.

    And if all else fails, number seven should ginger you to keep going.

    1. Good food

    What would you do without food? In sickness and in health, it never fails. There are some meals you will eat and begin to feel like superman has nothing on you.

    2. House parties

    When life gives you lemons, put on your party cloth, apply lip gloss and get ready to gbe body! Oh, let’s not forget the occasional free drink and cute people at some of these house parties.

    3. Photoshoots

    And…camera, pose, snap! Life’s too short not to dress up often, book a shoot and have banging photographs of you taken.

    Image source: Twiiter

    4. Memorable experiences

    If you don’t have things like bungee jumping, touring cities, hiking, riding in an hot air balloon or even snatching somebody’s bae on your bucket list, are you even ready to enjoy life? Please reconsider dear, you only live once. Besides, memories from these experiences will last a lifetime.

    5. Luxurious houses

    Whether you’re on a business or leisure trip, or even looking for permanent accommodation, you too deserve a luxurious house which reflects your aura. The coolest thing is you don’t need to sweat to find one as Aura by Transcorp Hotels lets you shop for quality hotels and apartments at the best prices in Africa.

    6. Get togethers

    Never shy away from an opportunity to host fun get togethers with amazing people – friends, family or even random travelers. When you add Aura by Transcorp Hotels to the mix, it becomes even simpler and more secure to host these get togethers. You get to choose your own hosting schedule, set your prices, house rules and review guest information before they set foot into your space. Awesome, right?

    7. Credit alerts

    Any amount of credit alert is better than all the scary debits you get the minute you step outside your house.

    8. Friendships

    There’s something about having that one genuine person you can call a friend that adds colour to your world. Good friends pull you up when you are down in the dumps. Better hold them tighter than a belt on a snatched waist or someone will snatch them from you.

    9. Vacations

    You’ve worked hard all year, and cannot come and kill yourself. So, why not plan an end-of-the-year vacation alone or with bae? And with zero stress too! With the tap of a button on Aura by Transcorp Hotels, you can access all the amazing experiences, luxury, food, photos, and parties which await you on the other side of enjoyment. Don’t wait till the last minute oh, to prevent “Had I known?”

    10. Perfumes

    Imagine if everyone walked around smelling like rotten kpomo? Tufiakwa! Thank heavens for nice fragrances that make us smell like a million bucks.

    Is enjoying life to the fullest your mantra? Yasss! Start by getting a taste of the Aura experience here.

  • In today’s world of remote working, where the lines between work hours and personal lines have been blurred, keeping a proper work-life balance can seem impossible. However, striking the right balance between work and play is important because it improves our physical, mental, and emotional well-being. Because all work and no play (and vice versa), makes for a terrible life. Here are 4 tips on how to achieve a better work-life balance.

    1) Set boundaries between personal time and work hours:

    The Importance of Setting Boundaries work-life balance

    This is also necessary to avoid burnout. Avoid thinking about work when you leave the office. Try to have a separate phone and computer for work activities or if that isn’t possible, have separate browsers for work and personals emails. It’ll also help to notify coworkers about the hours you’ve set aside for yourself so they know to not reach out to you during that time.

    2) Make time to spend with yourself and loved ones:

    work-life balance

    You were an individual with a life before you took this job and you should make time for the things and activities that bring you joy. Like spending time with yourself or with family. Your job is important but don’t let it take over your whole life. It helps to make plans on a calendar so your brain makes it official. Remember that no one at work is going to care about you like your loved ones and if you leave today (or die), your colleagues will carry on without missing a beat.

    3) Don’t be afraid to unplug:

    National Day of Unplugging: work-life balance

    Technology has greatly improved life in many ways but it has also created the terrible expectation of constant accessibility. You may turn off your computer but with your phone or tablet synced up, you’ll still get notifications from work, causing stress when you’re supposed to be relaxing and meaning that the workday never really ends. By unplugging or not reacting to work updates during personal time, you build resilience.

    4) Remember to start small

    Think Big. Start Small. Scale Fast. - startupinitiative.com work-life balance

    As with any new change in life, remember to start small when it comes to achieving a better work-life balance. Doing this ensures that that the change won’t be so difficult, which could lead to you falling back into unhealthy life habits.

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


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

    MONDAY:

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

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

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

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

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

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

    TUESDAY:

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

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

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

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

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

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

    WEDNESDAY:

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

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

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

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

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

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

    THURSDAY:

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

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

    Once I’m done praying, my day begins. 

    FRIDAY:

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

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

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

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


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

  • I have often wondered what life is like for adults who grew up as gifted kids, and how they have managed to navigate adulthood. To get an idea of what their lives as adults are like, I put out a call for their stories and experiences dealing with rejection. Here are the responses I got:

    Osasu, 27.

    dealing with rejection as an adult.
    Image used for descriptive purpose.

    I finished top of my class from primary school till university. I even finished my bachelor’s degree with a first-class in engineering, but I severely flunked my masters. After completing my masters, I tried to get a job. I sent out between 40-100 applications, but most of them were rejections and near wins.

    Sometimes I feel like a fraud. I struggle to deal with the rejections. My current job was more like “oh well, at least bad as e bad”. I no longer send out job applications, I have no motivation for them anymore. It feels like I have peaked and there is nothing left for me to do – I feel like I am hanging on because I have to, not because I have something I am actively living for.

    I’m in therapy again, it’s my second attempt, and I really hope it works this time because I have lost faith in myself. Even though the thought of dying has crossed my mind, I can’t afford to die before Dr Strange and Wanda Maximoff fight in the Multiverse of madness.

    Adaeze, 20.

    When I was a kid, I won a lot of awards. I was not just the award-winning child, I was also the child parents wanted their children to be like. I was respectful, kind, funny, witty and smart. I did well in all my art classes, never sciences. Science was not my shit. I got promoted twice, I was doing way better than children in classes ahead of me. 

    I did really well in junior secondary school, I got 13As in my 15 subjects, but then I wrote my junior WAEC and got only C’s. I was not failing, but my A’s had become B’s and C’s. I think I got tired, burnt out probably. Nobody understood what was happening to me, my parents didn’t get it and neither did I. 

    I decided to become a writer, nothing prepared me for the rejection letters. I was getting them so often, like water. My parents started comparing people to me. it took therapy for me to finally start healing – my therapist used to say “failing is not a direct reflection of your worth” and that there are so many things beyond my control.

    With every failure I’d remind myself that it happens, life happens, and then I buy myself shawarma or ice cream. Sometimes I cry because it’s okay to be sad that I didn’t get what I wanted but yeah, eventually, it’s okay.

    I have had some good days. I won a scholarship, got some acceptance and then got a nice job. I also have some bad days- failed some tests, didn’t get into some fellowships, wasn’t qualified for some competitions, but I try to take each as they come.

    Tinu, 24.

    Growing up for me was like living in a boarding house. I didn’t really have a fun childhood like most people who lived with their parents must have experienced. My Dad is a disciplinarian to the core, we were not allowed to watch cartoons like other kids.

    I was an “A” student throughout my secondary school, I couldn’t risk my dad killing me for having poor grades and God made sure that didn’t happen. My brother got beaten mercilessly one time by my dad for having a “C” in mathematics. I remember when I was in  SS1, I got an “E” in economics, I had a panic attack and I was in tears. 

    I am currently in my final year of university and I have found better ways to handle failure and rejection. I have had academic-related rejections recently but I don’t feel too pained about them simply because they are secondary.

    I have a very close older friend I talk to about my wins and rejections. He always knows the right words to say at the right time. So it helps me to be sober for a moment and keep my head high again the very next second.

    Also, I received a lot of career/academic rejections in the year 2020. Now, when I experience one, my mantra is “WE MOVE”, the goal is not to stop moving.

    But low-key to be honest, rejections pain me o. I don’t sulk about it for more than a day.

    Damola, 25.

    I grew up being a smart child. I used to read a lot  and I always represented schools at debate and quiz. I went to JSS1 from Pry 4, skipped JSS2 to SS1, and by SS2 I had already passed Jamb. I was 13 at the time. I  had to wait a year before getting into university and I got done with Uni by 19.

    When I opted to go to art class in secondary school, the school principal contacted my parents to get me to change my mind and go to the science class instead. I took both arts and science in SS1.At home, a B wasn’t acceptable. It had to be an A

    Dealing with rejection as an adult is so fucking hard. One bad feedback or rejection is enough to have your week ruined. The sad part about being rejected is, it makes me play safe. 

    I only go for opportunities where I know that I’m overqualified. I know it’s bad because I’m not fully utilising my potentials but it’s easier than dealing with the pain of “not being good enough”. 

    Growing up, you’re the local champion, smartest in the room and then boom YOU’RE NOT! It’s a tough transition, I’m in my mid-twenties now and I’m still figuring it out.

    Ruby, 23.

    dealing with rejection as an adult.
    Image used for descriptive purpose.

    I wasn’t the typical all-rounder, I was a natural with words and logic, but struggled quite a bit with math. Which I guess made me stand out even more. I’d have the highest class average while I just passed maths, I always had perfect scores in most of the other subjects. 

    Being an adult has taught me to find an identity outside how well I do at work or what I achieve. I think that’s why many people can’t come to terms with rejection. They’ve been told that what makes them matter is what they can achieve. 

    I had to learn how to be happy despite whatever was happening career wise or academically.

    Jasmine, 26.

    Growing up, I was a star child. I was on scholarships for excellent performance. At one point, I was given a double promotion because ‘star girl lomo‘. I was not a local champion. Because of the nature of my dad’s job, I had to change schools every year. I was top of my class consistently in all the schools I went to.

     One time I was second in a new school but the following term, I was back to first position. I was even in a special class called ‘competition’ class. Pupils/students in that  class were trained specially to go for competitions for the school. 

    When I got into university, I started to struggle. University was so tough, I did not make a first class GPA in any semester.I was always ‘almost there but never there’. That was when I gave up.It was very depressing because I started to struggle. 

    The worst happened when I failed a course. A whole me, fail a course?. I couldn’t tell my parents because it was going to break their heart. Meanwhile, my father was always hammering first class into my brain.

    He was not aware of my struggles. Only my mom knew, and she encouraged me all the time and reminded me that I was a star. First class or not. I eventually graduated with a 2:1 which was a miracle because I was scared I was going to fail again.

    Right now, I don’t see myself as smart or anything. If I want to do good in anything, I have to work twice as hard. Sometimes it pays off, sometimes it doesn’t so I really don’t understand how this works anymore.

    I console myself that I am street smart and I can use my words when I need to.

    Tunde, 25. 

    dealing with rejection as an adult.
    Image used for descriptive purpose.

    I was always top of my class, from primary school till university. I was top of my class all through the duration of my degree. After university, I applied for a  postgraduate program in the US. I got on the waiting list. That seemed like a good thing till covid happened and the waiting list was disregarded. 

    I didn’t give up after that happened, it in fact increased my confidence. I applied to 6 more universities, I was certain one of them was going to accept me. When the first school rejected my application, I braced myself and hoped for the best. I was not going to be discouraged. 

    My friends continued to encourage me, they assured me that I was going to get in, but that didn’t happen. The fourth rejection came in and so did my doubt. I started to believe that I wasn’t as good as I thought I was. I hadn’t been able to react to the previous rejections, but the fourth one broke me. I cried. I wanted to pray and talk to god, but instead it was tears i got out. 

    I got on another waitlist and this time I was sure I was going to get in, but unfortunately, someone else got the spot. 

    I haven’t recovered from the feeling of being rejected yet, and I am taking each day as it comes. I recently got into a film school to study screenwriting and that is a big win for me.

  • As told to Hassan


    Let me tell you how it started. I woke up one morning in 1999 and my eyes were itchy. The more I rubbed, the more painful they got. When I eventually stopped rubbing, whitish-yellow fluid stuck to my fingers. Pus. It was supposed to be one of those mornings I ate cornflakes and watched cartoons; instead, I was wide awake, running to my parent’s room. 

    My parents panicked. One minute, I was showing them my eyes, the next, we were at the hospital. I don’t remember the drive. After some eye tests, we were told my eyes were jaundiced, and I needed to do more tests. One blood test later, I was given a sickle cell diagnosis. I was four. 

    My first thought was “what’s that?” I turned to my dad to ask, but his pupils were distant, lost in thought. And while I don’t recall what my mum was doing, I’m sure she must have been praying, hands clasped, eyes closed. 

    My story had started without me realising it. I would slowly come to understand that my life had changed. At first, all I had to do was be careful. But then I attended a birthday party, and because I wanted to feel “normal,” I ended up dancing until I landed in the hospital. 

    That birthday incident changed everything. 

    The first thing to go was my freedom. I now had rules: no playing in the rain, check. No swimming, check. No birthday parties, double-check. My childhood became a recurring theme of sitting out activities. 

    In the rare event that I was invited out, my friends would spend the entire day worrying about me. I was never able to enjoy those outings. 

    This continued until I got into university. As a child, my family took turns taking care of me. But in school, there was nobody to do that for me. I had to look out for myself, in addition to the tedious school work. 

    There is nothing more stressful than living with sickle cell as a Nigerian student. For non-sickle cell people, uni stress was just uni stress. For me, uni stress meant hospital visits, missed tests and exams. In some cases, I had to write exams from the hospital bed.

    Keeping friends was also a private hell. My friends would say, “Precious, do you think you should come out with us tonight, because of your health?” All I heard was “You’re going to slow us down”, “We’re not going to have fun because of you”, “You’ll land in the hospital.”

    Dating was another thing entirely. I’d meet the most interesting people, and the moment I disclosed my condition, I’d get long messages saying: “I think you’re amazing, but I don’t think I can handle this.” 

    The messages broke me and made me blame myself. Then I travelled to the UK for my masters in 2018. 

    The care I received changed my perspective. During hospital visits in Nigeria, health professionals would say, “Weren’t you here last month?” or “See you soon.” I would feel guilty and apologise every time I fell sick. In the UK, health professionals would remind me that I had no control over my health. At some point, they asked if I fully understood my diagnosis. They “educated” me about sickle cell, but more importantly, they made me feel seen by really listening to me. 

    I started to live more freely. I went out if I wanted to. My motto changed from “if I fall sick, I’ll ruin people’s plans” to “if I fall sick, I’ll go to the hospital.” 

    I enjoyed this freedom until I returned to Nigeria. There was a clash between my old identity and my newly-won identity. I had gone from the shielded child to someone comfortable expressing herself. I no longer saw myself as a sick person who couldn’t have fun. This led to friction between me and family members unwilling to understand and respect the new me.

    At this point, it had been more than 15 years since my first sickle cell diagnosis. There was a new Precious. Someone who spoke out against insensitive religious people, people who told me to pray away my sickness or that children of God didn’t fall ill. Or the ones who told me to just declare the word of God: as if it were that easy. 

    For a while, these comments almost made me feel less of a Christian, like my faith was not strong enough. I went from being a religious person to resenting the church. I started to despise the so-called religious Christians. 

    Another set of people believed I was exaggerating the pain. They expected me to be used to it by now. Their insensitivity annoys me, but that’s a story for another day. 

    https://twitter.com/bmtforpreshgaza/status/1403037416571772932?s=19

    I’m choosing to focus on the positives, like making quality friends. Friends who have an unspoken rule: “When Precious is in the hospital, we’ll take turns looking after her. No questions asked.” Friends like Salem King, aka chief caretaker, who says, “Precious, you’re not a burden.” Friends who make my journey feel less lonely by showing up for me. 

    My journey has been bittersweet. Living with sickle cell has given and taken from me. For someone who didn’t start making friends early, I now have the most amazing friends in the world. 

    When you come from a large family [six siblings] like mine, you crave independence quickly. This need is heightened if you’re the only one living with a long term condition. You grow up angry. Angry that your family members don’t understand you. Angry that no one stands up for you. Angry about your search for miracles from one church to the other. Angry that despite everything, you still need your family’s help. 

    Living with a chronic illness means I can’t refuse help from people no matter how independent I get. I teach emotional intelligence for a fee, and the fee pays for my drugs and a few hospital bills. Still, there are things I can’t do on my own. I can’t drive myself to the hospital when I’m having a crisis. I can’t look after myself when I’m on admission. 

    I’m tired of depending on people, but there’s nothing I can do. In the first quarter of 2021, my friends started a GoFundMe. It’s for a bone marrow transplant to give me a new genotype, curing me of sickle cell. 

    Immediately I announced this development, I got heat from two sides. Firstly, from my conservative northern family. They were furious that I embarrassed them by “announcing” my illness to everyone. The Christians were also enraged because they felt I betrayed God by choosing to follow science. 

    They’ll all be fine. 

    I’m doing this for me. I’m also doing this based on my newfound knowledge of God. He’s understanding, kind and he loves me.

    I’m not naive to think that it’ll be smooth sailing. But I’ll pick the pain of surgery and raising money over the pain of surviving sickle cell for 25 years.

    I’m going to fight with all I’ve got — till the end. For myself and my friends who’ve been through everything. For everyone who has suffered with me, held my hands and cried with me. 

    I’m doing this for us. 

    And when I finally get my surgery done, I’ll throw a Precious 2.0 party. I can’t wait to finally start living without thinking I’m a burden to people. 

    I’m going to learn how to swim, how to ride a bike. I look forward to dancing in the rain without fear. Most importantly, I’m going to reclaim my childhood.

    Click here to donate to Precious:


    GoFundMe: https://gofund.me/77dde500

    Flutterwave : https://flutterwave.com/pay/crg78jsohnxo