Days after early detection of a new COVID strain in the UK, the deadly virus may have found its way to Nigeria again.
An internal memo from the National Obstetric Fistula Centre, Abakaliki, dated August 22, 2023, urged members of the hospital community to embrace safe social distancing practices. “Sore throat that resembles strep throat, and of course, is more virulent and with a higher mortality rate. It takes less time to go to extremes. Sometimes without symptoms. Be more careful,” the memo read.
While we await official directions from the Nigeria Centre For Disease Control and Prevention (NCDC), here are a few things we should do in the case of a pandemic or another lockdown.
Make the test centres affordable
Getting tested in the heat of the 2020 coronavirus pandemic was pure chaos. Apart from the limited test centres, the prices weren’t encouraging for the average Nigerian. As of January 2022, the Lagos State govt announced a reduction of test fees from ₦50,400 to ₦45,250, but most people can still not afford the test. The consequence is infected people moving around with no diagnosis, dismissing their symptoms as common cases of flu.
Jail term for palliative hoarders
People are dying and starving, but Nigerian politicians would rather hoard Indomie in secret warehouses and gift them as owambe souvenir? God, abeg. We know Bubu gave zero shits, but Jagaban needs to liaise with the relevant authorities and push a law that mandates jail term for erring politicians.
Price control on pandemic essentials
I remember painfully handing out my last ₦1k to a hawker who inflated the prices of her nose masks simply because she was the only seller available. Other pandemic essentials like hand sanitisers, anti-bacterial wipes and toilet rolls were inflated just for the sake of it. We need Jagaban and the relevant authorities to take proactive measures against the capitalists looking to profit from general suffering.
Make public handwashing permanent
Pandemic or not, handwashing should be a common practice because Nigeria is dirty. Our public hygiene is appaling, to say the least. And while handwashing was mandated during the pandemic, the practice has since been shelved. Banks and other public spaces have packed up or just abandoned the makeshift wash-hand basins stationed at their entrances.
Include condoms in palliative care packages
We already have enough people in Nigeria and don’t need couples bumping up the populace with more pandemic babies. The ministry in charge of palliatives should please include sufficient packs of condoms. You can mekwe, but let the babies stay in heaven with God in these sensitive times.
Designers should step up
Imagine showing up in your wardrobe’s best and having to ruin your drip because of the surgical face masks. This was the case for many people in 2020. Now that COVID is raring its ugly head again, we need the Mai Atafos and Ugo Monyes to get creative. You can prevent yourself from catching the virus and still look fly AF. Two truths can co-exist, or how do they say it?
Prepare to blow
The 2020 COVID lockdown blessed us with a new wave of celebs like Omah Lay, Enioluwa, Khaby Lame and hundreds other influencers who were completely unknown before then. Do you see where I’m going with this? Now is the time to perfect all your content ideas so that opportunity can meet you prepared.
Love Lifeis a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.
Audio: He Ghosted Me For three Months
*Godwin, 20, and *Tope, 19, dated for three months after which Godwin ghosted Tope for three months. Today on Love Life, they talk about what went wrong in the relationship and what they could have done better.
What’s your earliest memory of each other?
Godwin: I met Tope last year, during the lockdown. I rarely use Facebook, but because of the pandemic and boredom, I got on it. There was a post where someone was asking people to comment with their Twitter handles. Tope was the one who posted it. I followed her, and she followed back, and that’s how our conversation began. From there, we exchanged WhatsApp numbers and took the chats online.
Tope: I asked him how he got his followers. I don’t use Twitter frequently, and so to see someone excel at it was quite fascinating.
What was your first impression of each other?
Godwin: To be honest, I have a thing for dark-skinned girls, and fuck— sorry for the f-word— she had the complexion. I just couldn’t resist. I didn’t let her know my impression though. I stayed lowkey. Until we began talking.
Tope: You used the f-word.
Godwin: I apologised.
Tope: I can’t really remember my first impression of Godwin, but when we started chatting he was cool and sounded like he was going to be smart. Also yes, he was my spec. To be honest, if he wasn’t, we wouldn’t even talk.
So, when you both connected online, what did you talk about?
Tope: We talked about a lot of things. One of them was that he wanted me to come to his school, but I couldn’t. I’m in Ghana and he’s in Nigeria. The trip wasn’t very feasible, especially with the lockdown. We also spoke about his exes — it was part of our many conversation threads; we spoke about anything that caught our fancy.
Godwin: We talked about lockdown experiences: how it was going in Nigeria versus Ghana. We talked about school life too. And the talk about my ex: you know that moment when you’re chatting with someone and they begin to ask you questions like, “So how’s your boo/babe?”
That was what prompted the talk. Our conversation was already becoming interesting and I told her about my past relationships and exes. I also told her I was done with love, but I guess she pitied me and gave me some sort of assurance about finding love. Even when the chats stopped being intense, it was this assurance that brought me back to her. This plus the fact that she’s my spec.
The chats stopped being intense?
Tope: Yes. We moved to WhatsApp and the conversation died. But then one day he responded to my WhatsApp status.
Godwin: Lockdown was getting lonely and I kept seeing her status updates even though we weren’t talking as much. One day, I replied to a status update that she posted, and we picked up our conversation again.
Tope: And then, a few weeks after that, he asked me to be his girlfriend.
Oh?
Godwin: Her WhatsApp updates have a large part to play in this. Yes, she’s my spec and our conversations had stopped for a while, but seeing the updates again, the desire came afresh and I just did it.
Tope: I cleared him straight up. I told him I wanted something that would last long, a relationship that I saw a future in.
Interesting. What was your reaction to this, Godwin?
Godwin: I understood what she meant, so I assured her of my love in what little way I could. But despite all I said, she was bent on a long-term relationship.
I had never been in a long-term relationship before, but because she wanted one and she sounded convincing, I was willing to give it a try.
You’re in Nigeria and she’s in Ghana. How did you plan to make it work?
Tope: We thought we could, but the distance was a major issue.
Godwin: She was supposed to come to Lagos after the lockdown, but the government didn’t do things the way we expected.
Tope: We weren’t allowed to fly or travel by road. When they finally opened the Nigerian border, Ghana’s border was still closed. We were hoping we could see each other by the end of the year, but because it took too long for the lockdown to be lifted, it never happened.
And how did this affect your love life?
Godwin: We were feeling each other for the first few weeks, but things soon got a little bit tedious. She was attention-demanding, and because it was a lockdown, I understood how she must have felt and I tried to give her the attention to an extent. But we soon had minor fights that became quarrels.
Tope: He was always busy, and because it was a lockdown, I understood. But he wouldn’t pick my calls sometimes and he wouldn’t call back too. And then later, I’d see him post pictures on his status while my messages were still unread.
So how did you resolve this?
Godwin: I ghosted her.
Come again?
Godwin: Look, I don’t like facing quarrels or confrontation. Everyone I have dated knows this. So when I sense that something is coming up which would lead to a dispute, I suddenly ghost the person for a few days as a means to run away from the fight. I’m a very chilled and calm person. I hate stress.
With Tope, I didn’t really want to ghost, but Tope was so blunt.
Tope: Tope is still very blunt.
Godwin: I can’t remember her last insult to me, but that was it. I ghosted her for three months.
How old was the relationship by then?
Tope: Three months, but frankly, I wasn’t feeling his vibe anymore. I wasn’t as interested in him as I was in the beginning, and there was also the fact that we hadn’t seen each other. Plus, he was always talking about going to visit one girl or the other.
Godwin: It was a guy.
Tope: No, it was a girl. I saw the pictures you posted.
Godwin: But each time I told you I was going to visit a girl, it was actually a guy I was going to see.
Wait. So you went to see a guy but you told her it was a girl?
Tope: Please ask him.
Godwin: I lied to make her jealous. She was constantly seeking attention and we were already having one of our fights then. It was just once or twice, and at the end, I’d tell her what I did. But the picture she’s talking about, I went to see my best friend, a guy, and we went together to see a lady.
I think Tope takes things too personally and too seriously. The lockdown was a lot on everyone, but sometimes, it felt like she was taking out the frustration on me. So one day, I told her that she complains a lot and maybe she should try praying that the lockdown would be lifted. The next thing I got was an insult. This was why I ghosted her. I’d already reached my limit.
How were the three months of the relationship?
Tope: Stressful. Yes, it was nice at the beginning — it’s always nice at the beginning.
Godwin: For me, it was beautiful. All the things I experienced, I consider as the normal things that happen in a relationship, so I used them as an opportunity to work on myself.
How did the relationship end?
Tope: We just stopped talking.
Godwin: I ghosted her. We dated for three months and I ghosted her for another three months after which I reached out to apologise.
Why did you feel the need to do that?
Godwin: I do it to people I ghost. The main reason why I ghost is to avoid confrontation or insults. When I feel like the dust has settled, I return and apologise for ghosting.
I reached out to Tope because I still wanted her around, if not as a lover, but as a friend. I still miss her. When we got back to talking after I reached out to her, I told her I wished we were back together, but she said I was not someone who seemed serious.
What do you love most about each other?
Tope: I love how Godwin doesn’t argue. He keeps a calm head, no matter the situation.
Godwin: I love Tope because I think she’s wife material.
Tope: What the — ? Clearly you have jonzed.
What do you mean, “wife material”?
Godwin: She knows what she wants, and puts God first, and I love her for that. She’s also very encouraging, and she prays for me. I’m not a religious person — I’m a bad guy — but frankly, I don’t think there’s anything better for a man than a praying woman.
Yeah, she’s blunt. But I fuck with that too, at least to an extent.
What would you say you’ve learned from the relationship?
Godwin: Patience. Dating Tope taught me to see things from other people’s point of view. It also helped me value communication more. I also don’t think I’ll ghost anyone ever again.
Tope: Patience for me too. Dating Godwin taught me to be calm in situations. While we were together, I wasn’t exactly patient. If anything went wrong, I used to take it to the next level. But it wasn’t really worth it because that was one of the things that destroyed our relationship.
Now, I have learned not to lose my cool.
Do you think there’s a chance of you both getting back together?
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It is not uncommon to witness Nigerian graduates talk about emigrating. A good number of young Nigerians you’ll encounter are either already making tangible plans towards leaving, or giving it some (read: a lot of) consideration. However, it can be quite disheartening hearing the same from undergraduates whose short-lived exposure to the dysfunctional system has formed their resolve on the subject. It threatens that this brain drain we’ve been discussing for ages is only going see an upsurge in coming years. Who go remain for Nigeria?
During the earliest days of COVID-19, all attention was diverted towards the pandemic, away from the ASUU strike action and the cries of Nigerian undergraduates. For some, leaving the country had been always been in the mix. For others, the ten-month long pause was an awakening to their decision. I interviewed some Nigerian students and here’s what they had to say:
1. Ejiro- “I left my private university admission for greatest gba gba.”
Just yesterday, I saw a post that read, “Na mumu dey go Federal University”, and everything about it points to me. I am a mumu. I’m in my 4th year in school, but I have spent nearly six years in FUT Minna.
After secondary school, I was offered admission into two schools: ABUAD and my current school. I was insistent on attending a public university because of the perception that they have more experienced lecturers, and because “public school graduates are considered higher in the labour market”. Those are lies. My father was a staunch supporter of that idea. He’d always say private schools are too comfortable. My siblings warned me, but I wanted “greatest gba gba.”
That choice has been dealing me gbas gbos ever since. I haven’t scaled through a class successfully without ASUU interrupting. But this last strike was the last straw for me. Beyond school, jobs are hard to come by. Current situations (Buhari) are not looking bright. There is no end to it. As for me, staying in Nigeria is not an option at all. Why would it?
2. Chimdiya- “I don’t mind starting all over abroad”
Prior to 2020, I’ve never really nursed thoughts of leaving the country. And no, that didn’t come from a place of patriotism. I’m not proud of this place, not anymore.
The lockdown and afterwards have been trying times. I was so lost, confused and angry. My family’s income is tied to daily trading activities, so when the lockdown was announced, I knew we would suffer financial hits. And girl, did it happen!My mother would unravel anytime I asked for money.
I didn’t even know when I started researching scholarship opportunities abroad with Opera Mini free data. At first, I hoped to discover one that would allow me transfer seamlessly to their equivalent of 300 level. Nothing satisfactory popped up. As it stands now, I don’t mind starting all over somewhere better abroad. I’ll gladly leave UI to take it.
3. Karen- “It a gift to my children”
Leaving the country is a gift to my children. They don’t deserve to grow in this environment. See, my mother had all of my siblings in the US except me- I came too early. Again, I happen to be the only one of my siblings to attend a public university in Nigeria.
Throughout last year, I watched my friends climb up beyond my level and saw some graduate while I remained at home. This past year was depressing. It is a different kind of anguish knowing your predicament could have been averted if you had made informed decisions earlier. My SAT scores were great, but instead, I opted for Unilag.
Leaving here will release my mental health from shackles. It is now an unskippable talking stage question– right after genotype. I mentally check out when the guy starts hinting about contributing quotas to Nigeria’s growth. I have nothing to give.
4. Tunji- “Nigeria is a correctional facility”
Nigeria is a correctional facility –that’s the only way to make sense of this hellhole. I see this place as a punishment for some heinous crimes I committed in a past life. I mean, who shuts down schools for a year?
School is the only sane place I have, and I didn’t experience it for ten months. I still won’t for the next few months. I can’t be a student in peace, I can’t be gay in peace. Nah! I deserve to live in a place where all of me can flourish.
5. Luqman- “Nigeria neither cares about my education nor my life”
I’ve been a disaster since March when the strike began. I lost my father in June. Every time I struggled out of one depressive episode, I fell into another one. All those months kept going, and the government and ASUU were negotiating our future like it is ordinary ponmo.
The most hopeful I’ve felt in a while was during End SARS. Twitter was bursting with hope and support, and that buoyed my mental health slightly. I even dragged myself out to protest because I fit into every tech bro stereotype; dreadlocks, laptop, iPhone. After the Lekki incident and Buhari’s speech, I realized once again that Nigeria neither cares about my education nor my life.
6. Omeiza- “Ngige said I can go”
Chris Ngige said I can go. He said we have a surplus of medical doctors and my eventual departure won’t affect the country. If anything, it will increase foreign remittance. That means I can pay my dues from a saner clime. It is a win-win situation. Provided there are no interruptions, I should be out in three years.
7. Derin- “I need my degree to japa”
My degree has been on the line since last year because of school lockdown and the strike. My colleagues have moved onto the next phase but I’m yet to be inducted. It pains me how disconnected relevant stakeholders are from our plight. I’ve toiled six years to get here but somehow other people’s disagreement has me roped in. I’m tired of being optimistic. I need my degree to japa.
8. Kene- “I’m trying my hand on everything”
This break showed me pepper. My school finally announced that we will resume soon. Because I don’t know how soon “soon” is, I’m experimenting with new skills. I’m trying my hands at everything. In the end, I might pivot completely to one of these or blend them together.
Canada must accept me. Whether as an animator, a data analyst or a doctor. I’m adding more skills to my portfolio and in due time, they will work out in my favour in Jesus’ name.
9. Millicent-“What I don’t pay for in Naira, I pay for in time”
Omo, it was a tough decision to come to. My friends were shocked to know my stance because I would usually preach to them against travelling out. All I know is nothing can change my mind. I’m not allowing anyone to blackmail me with “Nigeria gave you free education”. It isn’t free, it comes at a very huge cost.
What I don’t pay for in Naira, I pay for in time–years wasted. I can’t regain time wasted which is worse. Frankly speaking, I don’t see myself returning in future unless situations improve
10. Praise- “They said schools should be locked up for 3-5 years”
I decided long ago to leave as soon as a dignifying means comes along. My resolve grew stronger over the break when ASUU or FG (can’t remember which party) was saying schools should be locked for 3-5 years so they can be fully developed. I was so shook.
I pray to meet that ASUU chairman some day and ask him why he was always smiling in newspaper reports because from where I stood, nothing was funny.
Names have been changed to maintain anonymity of contributors.
Since August 2020, Nigeria’s Government Enterprise and Empowerment Program (GEEP) and 60 decibels with the support of the Rockefeller Foundation have been administering a survey to GEEP clients to understand how COVID-10 impacted their personal and economic situation. An interim report has been published, and it shows that the Nigerian informal sector was adversely affected by the outbreak. 9 out of 10 GEEP clients recorded drops in their income levels, businesses struggled to stay afloat due to government-imposed closures, low footfalls and constrained supply chains. To survive, GEEP clients had to rely on their savings, borrowed heavily and reduced percentages set aside for household and business savings or stopped outrightly. The data also showed that 35% of GEEP respondents had to close down their businesses, 66% recorded fewer customers and 84% have been using their savings to cope with current hardships.We decided to examine how everyday Nigerians, particularly small business owners were affected by the pandemic. One story every week for the next six weeks.
The subject of this week’s Coping In A Pandemic is a widow with three children. She talks about starting her businesses, how Covid-19 has affected her income and her current struggles with paying her rent.
Do you remember when you started this business?
15 years ago. I started as a salesgirl for someone at the mammy market in a barrack. My pay was ₦4k per month. The good thing about the job was that it was a good way to learn the business, and I almost always made more than my salary per month.
How?
My boss had his price, and I had my price. I could add a little to the price of cartons of frozen foods I was given to sell. And we sold hundreds of cartons every month, so it was easy to make my own money. I think I got up to ₦1k on every carton I sold.
So, you were making up to ₦100k per month?
On a good month, yes. I’ve always been good at saving, so I was always putting money away. The job was good, and I was learning and understanding how the business worked. We brought the goods in from Seme and sold them here. I was with him for six or seven years. By the time I was leaving, I’d saved enough to buy a shop in the same market and a car I could use for business — a Golf 3.
Wow. How much did you buy the shop and the car?
I bought the shop for ₦200k, and the car was about ₦700k. Now that I had everything to go out on my own, I left the job and started going to buy the frozen goods, mostly chicken and fish.
That’s great.
My husband and I would drive to Seme for the products, and because I had a shop, sales were good. I also supplied people. Life was really good. At least, I could conveniently pay my kids’ school fees and house rent. No wahala at all.
Then I went to Seme one time, and they seized my car and goods.
Ah, why?
Customs oh. After some back and forth, they released my car, but they held onto my over ₦200k worth of goods. I had used all the money I had for business on that trip.
Ah.
As if that wasn’t enough, my husband decided that we had to sell the car.
Why?
He said he wanted to travel to the US. I think he sold it for ₦450k. I don’t even know how he got the rest of the money. I guess he travelled to the village and sold a few plots of lands. Do you want to know what happened after?
Tell me.
He came back home after some time. It didn’t even take long. He said one paper was not correct, so he had to come back. And he came back empty-handed. All that money went down the drain.
I’m so sorry about that.
It didn’t end there oh. He started talking about how disrespectful I was to him. He packed and left. I heard he went to Abuja first, then went to the village. He left me with three kids. My last daughter was one year and three months at the time. I couldn’t reach him — his number was always switched off.
He didn’t come back till he died about six years ago. It’s been me and my kids since that time.
Wow, I’m so sorry.
Life became harder for me. I was not doing any business, and I had no money to do it. Since my husband died, his family has never checked up on me or offered to give me ₦5. They made it clear that my girls and I don’t matter to them, and we would have to figure our lives without them.
I didn’t have money to go back to the business until 2016.
How did you pick it up again?
I joined Mamamoni, and they gave me a ₦100k interest-free loan to start my business again. I went back to my shop and picked up where I left off. Whatever I made from it, I put it back in the business. And I was there until I had to sell the shop in 2018.
What happened?
I was going through another rough patch and couldn’t make rent. The pressure the landlady put on me was a lot, and I couldn’t let her kick us out. I had to put my children first. Rent was ₦200k, so I sold my shop to get the money. With the shop gone, I moved my freezer home and continued my business from there.
How much did you get for the shop?
₦300k. What remained after I paid rent went to their school fees. Two of them were in secondary school already at the time, and their tuition was ₦37k each.
I’m curious, how much did you make in sales every month at the time?
At least ₦50k. It never went below that.
Did you have enough to save after meeting your basic needs?
I’ve always been very particular about saving. You know what I used to do? Ajo. I put ₦500 in every day and ₦100 for each of my kids. I don’t touch that until the end of the year, and that’s what I used to settle rent. But it didn’t work out in 2018. That’s why I had to sell my shop.
What about loans? Did you have access to those?
Ah, I fear loans a lot. The mere mention of loans with interest gives me a panic attack. I’d rather borrow money from people and agree to a payment plan. Those kinds of loans where you will pay excess money in interest put people in trouble. I can’t touch it.
Anyway, I didn’t need to take those kinds of loans. I was managing just fine with my savings until Covid came.
2020.
Covid did a lot. Sales declined rapidly during the lockdown. I couldn’t go out to supply and the light wasn’t good, so most of the goods I had in my freezer spoiled. Thank God for Mamamoni; they took care of food and supplied foodstuff for me and my girls. They also gave me another ₦50k interest-free loan to start another business. This was lifesaving. I travelled to Ogun state to buy cassava, and I also bought a gas cooker. That’s how I started selling fufu. And I’m still doing it now.
How much has this been bringing in?
I have small small customers I supply to, but It depends on the market and the number of people I can supply in a month. But on average, I’ve been making about ₦20k per month since I started last year.
That’s different from what you used to make every month. How has this affected things?
I couldn’t continue my Ajo last year. What this means now is that I may not meet this year’s rent. And the landlady has increased it to ₦250k. I told her that I cannot afford that, and she was like, “If you cannot pay, move out.” I don’t know how it will work out because I have only ₦50k. I’ve asked her for more time to do what I can do to find the ₦200k. I believe in miracles. One of my daughters is writing an exam this year, and I had to pay school fees — about ₦50k. When finding the money to pay for school fees was becoming a problem, God sent someone to give me ₦70k. I don’t know the lady. Someone just told her about me, and she decided to help.
That must have been a huge relief. Do you ever want to go back to selling frozen food items?
Yes, I was making more money from that. Also, the stress of selling fufu is too much. It takes a lot of strength to turn the cassava, and the pain that comes with it is too much. I got sick one time, but I couldn’t stop because I needed all the money I could get.
How much do you think you need to go back to it?
Everything is expensive now. A carton of chicken used to be as low as ₦8k, but it’s almost ₦18k now. A carton of fish is even more expensive. And also, I can’t go on that Seme road again because of Customs. They treat you like you’re carrying cocaine and seize your goods. I can’t deal with that stress. Although things are cheaper there, I’d have to buy locally. I also need a generator — Nepa has shown me a lot. I’d need at least ₦200k to return to the business.
As it is now, won’t a bank or microfinance bank loan be helpful for you?
As I said earlier, these loans that come with interest are not for me. Some people will add interest so high that the thought of paying it back will give you high blood pressure. I don’t want to be one of those people who take a microfinance bank loan and start hiding when the collectors come. I cannot do it. It will kill me.
It’s not like I don’t have the power to collect a loan, I just don’t want to. If I had a shop now, I might consider it. I’ll just concentrate on this fufu thing I do for now and hope things open up soon. I know how to do business very well and make the best use of money, so my children and I will be fine.
What aspect of your finances do you think you could be better at?
Savings, maybe. I couldn’t save last year, and that’s affecting a lot of things now. If I can save more, that can help prepare me for something like Covid. That being said, It’s hard raising a family alone. I don’t know how I’m taking care of these responsibilities. But God has been helping me through a lot of people.
With everything that has happened in the past year, would you say you’re happy?
Why wouldn’t I be? There’s life, and there’s always hope. Also, I’m watching my kids grow, and that means everything to me. My house rent is the only problem now. When I settle that, I’ll be happier.
COVID-19 threw a well-aimed spanner in everyone’s plans this year. Nobody escaped unscathed. Some of Miss Rona’s victims were people who wanted to tie the nuptial knot and spend the rest of their lives together. Instead, they found themselves donning Sanwoolu face masks.
However, some brave couples decided to go ahead with their weddings. I wanted to know what it took to get married during the pandemic, so I reached out to a few people who said their vows despite the coronavirus.
Mojola, 26
We initially planned to get married on April 18 and it was supposed to be massive. We had paid everyone; the vendors, the venue, everything. When we tried to get refunds, all the vendors refused, saying we should let them know when we’re ready to do the wedding.
Our parents were meant to sponsor most of the wedding. Nevertheless, my husband and I had spent more than 3 million already before the government announced the lockdown.
We later decided to get married in a private registry ceremony. We still plan on having the ceremony later in the year, when everything has cleared up. Our families and friends are still on our necks to have a proper wedding ceremony, so that’s what we’re going to do. Besides, all our money cannot just go down the drain like that. So we’ll wait.
Zipporah, 25
“My husband didn’t even get time off work. We got married during his break. Even during the wedding, he was replying to work emails.”
We originally planned to get married in April and we had planned a huge ceremony. We already paid for everything; the hall, the caterer, the band. Everybody was ready for the wedding, flights had been booked from all over Nigeria, clothes had been sewn, everything was set.
We tried to get refunds from the vendors but you know you can’t get all your money back from Nigerian vendors. The venue and decoration guys still haven’t refunded any of the money till date.
After waiting for a while, we decided to go ahead with the wedding in a much smaller way.We finally married on the 4th of June in a small ceremony. Because the state government hadn’t allowed places of worship to open fully yet, the pastor placed a 20-person limit on the ceremony. We didn’t even use microphones, just to avoid attention; police had been arresting whole weddings at the time.
My husband didn’t even get time off work. We got married during his break. Even during the wedding, he was replying to work emails.
Right after, we had a small reception for guests. The number of guests suddenly ballooned because tons of people in the area got wind of the wedding. Many of them were without work due to the pandemic so they came for the food.
This really increased the cost of the wedding. Added to the fact that the pandemic drove up the price of everything, it ended up being more expensive than a regular wedding.
Muyiwa, 32
I proposed sometime in November 2019 and planned our wedding for April 4. Two days to our wedding, the Lagos State Government imposed the lockdown.
Of course, everything had been paid for, people had come into town and everyone was set. We waited to see how long the lockdown would last for. When there was no end in sight, we opted for a very lowkey wedding on May 27, which we had at my wife’s father’s house.
There were only 20 people in attendance. Everyone was wearing a facemask, even in the wedding photos. Interestingly, we never planned to hold a reception for our original wedding. We were just going to go to church. So we didn’t pay any money to vendors or anything, lucky for us.
My wife is from Delta and you know how expensive Delta weddings are. We spent about 2.5m for the traditional wedding, and most of that was on feeding. The traditional wedding list from the bride’s family also took a bulk of the money. For the revised wedding, we spent less than 300k. We didn’t even have to spend on food. The smaller wedding was ideal for me because I personally don’t like being around crowds. God just worked it out for us and it was perfect.
Imade, 27
We set a date in April to allow ample time for his family, who lived in the US, to come down and prepare. Then COVID happened. We had no idea what to do. We didn’t know if or when we were going to do the wedding.
Eventually, we decided to just get married anyway in July, when the lockdown was finally eased. His parents still couldn’t make it down because of the international travel ban. They were represented by his sister and uncle.
We had our traditional wedding on the 1st of August. Every single person was wearing a mask. Even when we were dancing, people were coming to spray us one by one, not like you usually find at weddings, just so they could maintain social distancing.
We couldn’t get much of the money back. Most of the vendors all insisted on taking a service charge out of the refund, mostly about 30%. And even at that, they are all saying they don’t have the money.
There was no reception at our white wedding on the 8th of August. We just received church blessing and a small reception for friends who travelled and that was it. We had about 150 people in attendance in all.
For our original wedding, we had spent about 10 million. For our scaled wedding, we ended up spending about 2.7 million, in all.
Dami, 24
“I’m the firstborn and he’s also his parent’s firstborn, so that wedding has to happen. Besides, we’ve already spent about 25 million. And I just want to dance on my wedding day, abeg.”
We set our wedding for April 12 in Lagos and it was going to be huge. Unfortunately, our flight to Nigeria was canceled in March.
We were supposed to have over 1300 guests in attendance. People had booked their flights to Nigeria from London. We haven’t even attempted to get refunds because we decided to wait till December or next year to have the wedding ceremony.
We already had a court wedding here in London. We had a few people as witnesses and that was it.
I’m the firstborn and he’s also his parent’s firstborn, so that wedding has to happen. Besides, we’ve already spent about N25 million. And I just want to dance on my wedding day, abeg.
Does having a community make worship easy? If so, how have people been surviving in this lockdown where gatherings have been restricted?
6 people share their stories with us.
Taiwo – I pray all my solats at night.
Before now, I used to be proud of the fact that I didn’t miss my daily prayers and that I also prayed at the right time. Having a mosque at work helped with this. So, it was easy for my colleagues and I to stroll for prayers.
However, since I started working from home, that has changed. It’s difficult to pray or even work. So, I end up combining all my prayers late at night after internally gassing myself. I know this is not good but I just can’t shake off the lethargy.
I guess all that uncertainty is making me apathetic. I just hope that on the day of judgment God forgives depression as a reason for missing prayers.
Kene – I have to perform belief.
It’s not like I don’t believe in God but I would rather watch Castlevania than wake up for night vigil. It’s just more interesting. Since I got home, my parents have been waking me up in the middle of the night to pray against Corona. Apparently, as the first child, I have to learn how to start praying for my family. It’s somehow. It feels fake because I am just performing the motions.
Kachi – It’s weird.
I don’t think anything has changed for me. I still tune in for mass during the week and over the weekend. I miss the smell of the church with the incense and all of that. Sometimes, I don’t get that buzzing feeling when I am done with online mass.
I haven’t gone for confession in a while and I feel uncomfortable. I also can’t confess over the phone because it breaks the secrecy chain as there is a third party; network provider. It’s all so weird. So so weird and uncomfortable.
Tope – It’s eye opening.
I realized that without the routine that church provides, my parents aren’t religious like that. Away from the judgmental eyes of church members, my parents are like me. It’s all a performance. We don’t even stream service or anything. All of us just press our phones and mind our business.
I am sure our bibles are wondering if we died.
Remi – I can’t stop praying.
Every night, I wait up refreshing NCDC’s Twitter account. The wait makes me very restless because I don’t know what to expect. Especially with all the news that Nigeria is not prepared to handle this situation. So, what do I do? I control the only thing I can control which is prayer. Any small thing, I find myself praying these days.
The other day, I went to the market to restock my provisions and I kept on saying the “blood of Jesus” whenever someone came too close. Even with my nose mask and hand sanitizers, there’s no way I don’t see myself not getting this thing. It’s actually only God that can save us in Nigeria.
So, I had better start calling him, maybe he will spare me.
Habeeb – I am anxious.
Ramadan is coming and I am worried. The beauty of Ramadan for me has been the communal feeling among Muslims. Everyone is usually so supportive and nice. With that absence, this Ramadan will be difficult. If I don’t see people around me fasting and praying, I am worried I may not be able to complete it. My iman has been low for a while.
For the first time since I was 7, I am scared I will not complete the 30 days fast.
This one goes out to all my brothers and sisters in the house who can’t cook for shit but like to eat. So, that’s technically still everyone who can’t cook because humans need to eat…
I’m digressing. Let’s just get into this.
1) Bread
The food of the gods.
2) Noodles
For when they want to feel like they can cook.
3) Eggs
Something has to go with that bread or noodles.
4) Hotdogs
For when they need something else to go with the bread or noodles.
5) Cereal
You can’t screw up cereal.
6) Pasta
For when they’re tired of noodles.
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COVID-19 Dreams
Since the lockdown started, I’ve been having strange dreams. I didn’t think too much of them at first because my dreams are usually bizarre. But as the lockdown went on, they got even more batshit. This got me wondering if this spike in the weirdness of my dreams had a connection to the mental effects of the lockdown (it totally does). And because I’m an amebo, it also got me wondering what kind of weird dreams other people were having.
So I went ahead and asked around. I’ll start.
Astor, 1#
“Two weeks ago, I had a dream that I was watching an R-rated version of the 2020 movie, ‘Sonic the Hedgehog’. And because of the way dreams work (where you’re sometimes in them as opposed to just observing), I was IN the movie, running around frantically with everyone else as Doctor Robotnik violently killed people in a bid to draw Sonic out of hiding. Why is this a weird dream? I haven’t even watched Sonic the Hedgehog in real life!”
Nnamdi, 30
“I was at a house party, watching myself dance when someone ran up to me (not me exactly but the version of myself I was watching), grabbed me, and screamed, ‘YOUR EYES ARE HURTING BECAUSE YOU HAVE CURRENT EYES!’. Immediately after this, I woke up in a haze. I picked up my phone, googled ‘current eyes’ to see if it meant something (it doesn’t btw), and went back to sleep.”
Victoria, 25
“I think the strangest dream I’ve had in the last few weeks was the one where mop hairs started growing out of my crotch in place of pubic hair. Yeah, like the mops for cleaning floors. It was horrifying! The more I cut them, the more they grew. I shaved so hard until I began bleeding. It was just like that scene in ‘X-Men: The Last Stand’ where Angel’s father walks into the bathroom and finds him frantically cutting off his wings with a knife. It was so random and disturbing. I still haven’t been able to look at mops the same way.”
Bimpe, 21
“I was going on vacation with my family to London. To show you how detailed this dream was, I knew in the dream that we were flying with KLM. Got on the plane and fell asleep. Next thing I knew, I woke up in Accra. Before I could find out what was going on, I fell asleep again and woke up in Kinshasa. We went straight from the airport to a nice big house where a wedding was taking place. I wandered off during this wedding and got lost in the house. As I was trying to find my way out, I woke up.I’ve never been to the Republic of the Congo or Ghana.”
Dapo, 32
“I had sex with 8 men on the same night. Look, I’m not a child. I’ve had sex dreams before but not on this level. What made this weirder is that it wasn’t at an orgy or something. It happened in quick succession. It was like a series of dreams. Every time I woke up from one sex dream and went back to sleep, there would be another guy (my spec) waiting to rock my world. I messed up my hip IN THESE DREAMS because of all the thrusting. Best sex of my life (real or imaginary)! I would not mind one (or all) of those guys returning at some point sha. I can’t go out because of Corona but body no be firewood. And there’s only so much your hands can do, you know? Lol”
COVID-19 Dreams
COVID-19 Dreams
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With each passing day in lockdown, we are realising just how important little things like a hair cut or a hug can be. That’s why this meme of Bob-Manuel praying is all of us asking God to give us anything we can manage during these stressful times.
1. “God, even if it’s just a peck on the cheek, I’ll manage.”
I just need some kind of physical contact, abeg.
2. “God, even if it’s just the sound of my barber’s clipper, I’ll manage.”
Even if he will shift in my hairline, I will take it.
3. “God, even if I have to sit in traffic for 5 hours, I’ll manage.”
Stagnant traffic would be better than this prison.
4. “God, even if the club is dead, I’ll manage.”
I don’t even need alcohol. I will still turn up.
5. “God, even if it’s a Vic O concert, I’ll manage.”
I will sing “After Party” with all my energy.
6. “God, even if it’s just N3k someone will dash me, I’ll manage.”
Please, no amount is too small.
7. “God, even if it’s my yeye ex, I’ll manage.”
I’m ready to forgive you.
8. “God, even if it’s just a football training session, I’ll watch.”
I just want to see someone kick a ball.
9. “God, even if the sun will roast me, I’ll manage.”
Fuck my skin. I just miss outside.
10. “God, even if they’ll take hours to reply my text, I’ll manage.”
I’ll take whatever scum I can get.
11. “God, even if it’s just the tip, I’ll manage.”
