• Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.


    Nairalife #353 bio

    What’s your earliest memory of money?

    I began to have a strong desire to make money when I was 11 or 12 years old. It was largely due to my family’s financial situation. I didn’t know what having money meant, but I knew what poverty looked like, and I wanted better.

    Tell me more about your family’s financial situation

    I was raised by a single mother who didn’t make a lot of money as a civil servant, so things were difficult. While my friends attended private school and received toys, I attended public school and managed food. 

    I noticed this difference in our quality of life pretty early, so I often thought about making money. The first time I was able to do so was at 15 years old.

    What did you do?

    I taught primary school students. I was still in secondary school at the time — either SS1 or SS2 — but I’d work as a holiday lesson teacher for makeshift schools in the area for ₦4k/ month.

    I also made money running errands for people, mostly in the ₦20 or ₦50 change they told me to keep. There was also an estate beside my street where I’d go to help rich people bathe and walk their dogs for little money here and there. When the dogs had puppies, I helped the owners market and sell them on an online marketplace and earn between ₦2k – ₦4k in commissions.

    I finished secondary school in 2016 and returned to teaching at schools. The first job I got paid ₦8k/month, but I worked there for only two months. I was more of an errand boy and cleaner than a teacher. I moved on to another school that was supposed to pay me ₦12k/month. I didn’t last one month there because the middle-aged proprietor began to move funny.

    How so?

    The man was making some “funny” sexual advances. I ignored him until he started asking me to wait behind after others had left. Ah, I resigned immediately.

    Next, I worked as a cleaner at a school for ₦15k/month. I worked there for three months before I got an admission offer to the university. This was still 2016.

    Did you also try to make money in uni?

    I had to. I didn’t have a specific allowance from home. Sometimes I’d get ₦2k per week, other times ₦5k or even ₦1k if I collected food stuff. Money wasn’t consistent, so I needed to find ways to support myself. I did that by rearing rabbits.

    Rabbits?

    Yes. I love animals. I bought one rabbit, which I reared at home before I got into uni. She gave birth to six kits. Three died, and I took the remaining three with me to school when I resumed. That drew attention to me, and I became the guy who bred rabbits. 

    Gradually, people started to find me whenever they wanted to buy rabbits. I’d help arrange the purchase from a farm and earn commission. Over time, I expanded my operations and used any extra money that came my way to buy a few more rabbits and build a cage. That way, I could breed my own rabbits, sell them, and make a higher profit. I was selling them as pets, not for meat, but I was still making good money. 

    “Good” might be a stretch because I’m talking like ₦3k/week, but for someone who often trekked an hour to school because of transport fare, it was good enough for me to survive.

    You mentioned you were selling the rabbits as pets, not meat. Is there a difference?

    Yes. To sell rabbits for human consumption, you need to sell in large quantities to be able to meet clients’ demands. That’s big man business, which I didn’t have the capacity for. I only had like 7 or 8 rabbit kits a month. So, selling them as pets was the way to go for me. 

    People hardly bought rabbits as pets, but I had a strategy that allowed me to sell them at a premium price. I’d create content about how rabbits were quieter, cheaper to feed and maintain than dogs. I also spread the word that my rabbits were trained. Rabbits aren’t easy to train, but since mine were often in my room, they got used to being around humans. 

    I’d make videos to show how I could call them to come to me. The rabbits came because they knew I probably had food, but to people, it showed that the rabbits were trained and could listen to commands. So, while others could sell a rabbit for ₦1500 or ₦2k, I could sell mine for as much as ₦5k or ₦8k. Guys even bought them to gift their girlfriends. Business was good.

    However, as I was getting money, everything went back into the business. I had to expand and feed the rabbits, and it became difficult to maintain. Then, a bag of rabbit food was ₦3k. Imagine a struggling student buying bags of food every week for rabbits. 

    So, even though the business grew very fast in just a year, it fell off just as fast. The final blow came when I was in 200 level.

    What happened?

    There was an outbreak of the RHD virus that unfortunately affected my rabbits. I had 8 breeding does at the time and I lost them one by one. I tried different remedies, even asked the person I got them from, but nothing worked. 

    So, whenever I noticed one got sick, I’d ask my roommate to put it down, so at least we could eat. I eventually sold off the remaining three for about ₦26k and the cage for ₦1k. I was able to make that much from the rabbit sale because one of them was an imported Angora rabbit I’d bought for ₦30k. I eventually sold it off for ₦20k. That’s how I stopped the business. 

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    Phew. Sorry about that. What did you do next?

    I briefly worked as a hostel agent and reposted pictures and videos of available hostels from another agent. 

    The first day I went for a physical inspection myself, I realised there are some jobs that need you to be mentally and physically fit. I went down with malaria after one inspection waka and decided the business wasn’t for me. ₦4k in commission was the only money I made from that stint.

    During this period, forex had started to gain ground in my city. Someone I knew from another hostel did a giveaway, which I participated in but didn’t win. Then I entered his DM and was like, “Omo, this giveaway you did. I’m broke o. I really needed the money.” 

    He asked me to come to his office to see him. I did, and he told me how I could start a forex business. 

    He explained that I could raise money from people, invest it on their behalf, and collect a percentage of the profit. He gave me ₦4k to start. With that ₦4k, I designed a flyer and started posting about the forex opportunity. 

    To be clear, were you trading forex?

    No, I was just the middleman. I worked with a trader who traded the money for about two weeks before paying out the profit. The profit margin on investments was around 20% – 30% bi-weekly, and my cut was typically 5% or 10% of the total investment + profit, depending on my agreement with the investor (the person whose money I was taking). 

    For instance, if someone invested ₦1m and we earned ₦1.4m after two weeks, I’d only return ₦1.2m or ₦1.3m and keep the balance. Fortunately for me, people trusted me, and it was easy to convince them to give me their money. 

    In the first month, I rallied five people who invested between ₦400k and ₦3m. By the end of that month, I had earned ₦1m in commissions. To give you a full picture of how crazy that was, I’d never had up to ₦80k cash at once at that time in my life. 

    When I saw that ₦1m, I went to the bank and withdrew ₦200k. Then, I took it home, poured the money on my bed and slept on it. I had never seen that amount in cash before. The next day, I packed the money again and deposited it back into my account.

    That’s wild. How did this sudden windfall impact your lifestyle?

    Omo, I didn’t handle money well, and I think that was natural. I mean, I went from struggling to survive to making my first million. It was a big change. 

    Some people say that money can’t change them, but I believe it’s because they haven’t seen the amount that’ll change them. Money changed me, and I didn’t quickly realise that I was losing my head.

    I started making money from forex, and suddenly I couldn’t cook again. Me, who used to cook palm oil rice and slice onions inside tomato paste to make stew, suddenly realised I wasn’t eating healthy. So, I started ordering food. 

    I went from eating chicken once in a blue moon to three times a day. Now, I can’t bring myself to eat chicken anymore because that’s all I ate when I started making money, and I’m tired of it. 

    My lifestyle completely changed. I bought my first iPhone, an 11 Pro Max. Also, I started going to the club, buying expensive stuff and hanging out with friends. 

    You were balling

    I was. People kept investing in the forex business, and I continued to make money. This was around 2019. I even registered my brand as a proper business, employed a graphic designer and social media manager to create content for me. I think I paid the designer ₦15k/month. 

    It was a structured setup, and I made money. At some point, I had up to ₦9m and was even considering buying a car. Then, you could get a small Toyota car for like ₦1.5m. I didn’t go through with the purchase because I couldn’t drive and didn’t really need a car.

    Interestingly, the period when I finally attempted to get a car was when the business came crashing down. This was in January 2021.

    It turned out that the people trading the money weren’t legitimate forex traders. It was a Ponzi scheme, and they ran away with ₦6 billion of people’s money, including mine and my investors.

    Damn. I imagine your investors tried to recover their money from you

    Of course. I nearly died during that period. Interestingly, I had just returned from a vacation and only had ₦32k in my account when everything went to shit. Investors wanted to kill me with calls. Some turned to the police. 

    One time, I had just returned home from settling police officers after one arrest when a police van from a different station came to pick me up. I became a celebrity; the police were just looking for me. I couldn’t stay at my hostel either because of the guys who wanted to beat the hell out of me and burgle my apartment. I had to stay at a friend’s place.

    How did you get out of that situation?

    My saving grace was that I’d made my investors sign an MOU. In the document, I’d set up the contract so that they were essentially agreeing to recover only 5% of their initial investment in the event of a crash. I’d done that after a smaller crash had happened to limit my exposure and how much I had to pay back. Many people didn’t read the fine print of the MOU and simply signed it. 

    So, when that wahala started, I created a group with all 19 investors affected and showed them evidence of what had happened. I’d been clear from day one that I wasn’t the trader; just a middleman. Fortunately for me, most of the people who invested heavy amounts of money chose to let it go. It was the ones who invested little money that wanted to take my life. One of the guys who arrested me invested ₦10k. I eventually returned his 5% as ₦500 data. 

    I sha found a way to return most people’s 5%. Some of them argued that the agreement wasn’t legal because there was no lawyer present when they signed it. It was a lot of back and forth, but that’s how that era ended. 

    I lost everything and went right back to being completely broke.

    Phew. Out of curiosity, did you invest in any safety net when you were making money?

    Hmm. I invested in myself alone. I consider that period the biggest mistake I’ve made, but also not exactly a mistake. There is some money you make in life that only comes with lessons. People say, “opportunity comes but once,” but that’s only helpful when the opportunity comes to someone prepared and mature. 

    Imagine that kind of opportunity coming when I was barely 19 and with the limited exposure I had. I was bound to make mistakes, and I don’t regret it. I’d make the same mistakes again if the situation repeated itself with the same level of knowledge I had then.

    Omo, I lived the life then. Land of ₦1k, I didn’t buy. Instead, I invested in myself aggressively. I went on multiple vacations, started looking good, and bought whatever I wanted. I even bought diamond earrings for the girl I was dating at the time. On her birthday, I used a car to deliver gifts to her. Me too, I know I made mad idan moves. Giveaway dey cry.

    I’m screaming. How did you cope with the lifestyle changes that came with losing everything?

    It was tough. A few weeks after the forex incident, I travelled out of my school area to stay with a family friend for about a week. I just needed a place to survive. That visit unexpectedly provided me with a lifeline.

    When I had money, I’d developed an interest in drones and had bought one for ₦40k just to practice with. When I visited the family friend, I decided to do what I knew how to do: be a middleman. But this time, for drones. So, I got prices from a vendor and began posting drones for sale. 

    My first sale came with a ₦35k profit. When I closed that deal, I said to myself, “Okay. Maybe there’s something here.” That’s how I started selling drones. I also took on a few drone event coverage gigs and got someone to operate the drone while we shared the ₦15k – ₦30k coverage cost.

    Over time, I made enough money to upgrade my drone, which cost approximately ₦500k, then later to a more expensive one. In 2022, I upgraded my business registration to include my drone sales and event coverage business. It’s still my primary source of income today. 

    I also earn random money from real estate commissions on the side, as I served my NYSC year with a real estate company between June 2024 and 2025. However, it’s not consistent. I don’t market it a lot because I don’t want to take attention away from my major hustle, which is selling drones. 

    What’s your income like these days?

    My income is wildly unpredictable. I run a business, and can’t determine when people will buy. I can make ₦300k this month, ₦1m the next and absolutely nothing for the next couple of months. 

    In March 2023, I made ₦2m in one month. The next time I made money from drones that year was in December, and I made only ₦40k. That’s how it is. I’m not selling fish. Drones are expensive, and I tend to only make a good profit when people buy expensive ones. I might only make ₦20k on a ₦200k drone, but I can make over ₦200k from a ₦3m drone. Unfortunately, those deals only come occasionally.  

    Besides the drones, I take on various random jobs to earn money. I can take on a video editing gig today and help someone buy a pet tomorrow for little money here and there. Even if it’s ₦10k or ₦15k, just bring.

    I get it

    I’m also on the lookout for remote cybersecurity internships. I studied a professional diploma course in cybersecurity during my NYSC year after a Twitter contact told me about a scholarship opportunity. The scholarship allowed me to pay $15/month instead of $30 for the one-year program. I was interested in tech and mostly curious about the field, so I joined. 

    The only problem now is that landing my internship might mean rearranging my life. I’m not based in Lagos, and most of the opportunities I’ve found require moving there. It’s crazy because these internships don’t want to pay more than ₦50k/month. 

    Even crazier, I’m seeing jobs requiring three years of experience offering ₦250k – ₦300k. That’s not nearly enough to justify a move to Lagos. So, my goal is foreign remote jobs that pay in dollars. 

    How would you describe your relationship with money now?

    I’ve seen money, so it doesn’t freak me out anymore. It’s safe to say I can’t make the mistake I made when I was touching forex money. However, money determines my mood. I’m happy when I have money and sad when I don’t. 

    That said, I think I’m in a better place. I’m not where I want to be, but I can manage my life with what I earn. I may not like chicken anymore, but I can afford it. I don’t spend carelessly, but I still make sure to buy things that make me happy. 

    I also try to save in a way that my savings can “save” me when I’m not making sales. I don’t have a specific figure I save each month, nor do I lock away money. What’s the point of locking it just to enter debt when I urgently need it? So, I just do what I can.

    What do your savings look like now?

    I don’t think it’s up to ₦1m. My dog has been ill for a few weeks, and I’ve been spending a lot of money on his health. I also recently got some perfumes and am preparing for December oblee and expenses. So, that’ll most likely eat into my savings.

    Let’s break down your typical monthly expenses

    This depends largely on how much money I make each month. I can spend carelessly when I have money, and be extremely prudent when I’m broke. But here’s a decent average:

    Nairalife #353 expenses

    What do future plans look like for you?

    I hope to have a strong and steady business. I would hate to be working a nine-to-five job. If I have to, it has to be remote work. I just want a stable life with a supportive partner and to be able to afford the basic good things of life. Yearly vacations wouldn’t be bad, either.

    Is there anything you want right now but can’t afford?

    A power bike. I ride my friend’s own and would really love to own mine soon. I might need around ₦3.5m to ₦4m for that. I can’t even save towards it because expenses keep coming to take away whatever money I manage to keep aside.

    I can relate. How about the last thing you bought that made you happy?

    I bought my perfume collection a few weeks ago, and my total spend was slightly above ₦200k. I liked that I was able to afford what I wanted.

    How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?

    5. I’m grateful that I can live a good life to a certain extent. However, I don’t have a stable income, and I’m unable to make long-term plans as a result. 


    If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.

    Find all the past Naira Life stories here.

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  • The topic of how young Nigerians navigate romantic relationships with their earnings is a minefield of hot takes. In Love Currency, we get into what relationships across income brackets look like in different cities.


    Interested in talking about how money moves in your relationship? If yes, click here.

    How long have you been with your partner?

    We’ve been together since April 2024.

    How did you meet?

    Lekan and I met on Facebook. We’d been Facebook friends for over a year before he asked me out. I wasn’t surprised when he did. I actually expected it. Most of my male friends on Facebook connect with me because they want to ask me out. So I knew the question was coming. But when it did, I didn’t accept immediately.

    Why not?

    He’d told me he had a child from a previous relationship, and I wasn’t comfortable with it. I feared dealing with a complicated situation where one woman could come later and start claiming rights. So, I needed time to process it and decide if I could go ahead with it. I didn’t give him a yes until about three months had passed.

    What changed your mind?

    Lekan had all the other things I wanted: God-fearing, mature, and we were best friends even before we started dating. So, I decided to go for it. 

    Also, his child wasn’t like a baby. His relationship with his child’s mother hadn’t worked out, and Lekan had opened up to me about it. The child lived with the mother. So, I believed it wouldn’t be an issue.

    Got it. What are your financial situations like?

    Lekan was working as a store manager, earning ₦70k/month when we started dating. Now, he mostly makes money from online tutoring gigs, and since it’s primarily freelance, there’s no specific monthly income.

    As for me, I’m a teacher and I offer catering services once in a while. My actual salary is ₦25k, but when I get catering gigs, that figure can range between ₦35k and ₦40k. I have to say our financial situation is the primary struggle in our relationship. 

    How so?

    It’s not easy to do things on an unstable income. We have hopes for our future. We’ve even talked about settling down, but we can’t make actual moves because of money. I’m worried about Lekan’s unstable income. 

    If he had something, we could plan around what comes in monthly, no matter how small the money might be. It won’t be a case of, “Will money come or will it not come?” 

    Have you shared these concerns with him?

    All the time. He says he’s working towards it. I hope things get better soon. In the meantime, we support each other as much as possible. We talk about our money struggles and what we need to do to improve the situation.

    We assist each other when the other person is broke. I can send him money for food or data when I have, and he does the same for me, too — usually ₦5k or ₦10k. Besides our money challenges, it has been an awesome relationship. We work well together, and I know things will only get better.  

    You mentioned he has a child. How does that play into your relationship dynamic?

    It doesn’t really affect us. I don’t really interfere with his relationship with his child and the mother. I know he has an arrangement with his baby mama’s family to be part of the child’s welfare. He doesn’t send money monthly, but I think he contributes to feeding and school fees. I don’t really know much about their arrangement. I don’t want to get involved.

    Interesting. How do you guys navigate budgeting for dates and gifts in your relationship?

    Hmm. This is another challenge we have. I often tell Lekan that there are some things you don’t wait for the right time to do, you just compromise and make the sacrifice. For example, we hardly go out to celebrate birthdays or buy each other gifts because Lekan says there’s no money. On the rare occasion that we go out, we visit eateries.

    Ironically, he spends more than he saves. Lekan can get some money now and spend it all without putting anything aside. He thinks savings should come from when you have excess, but I think you should save regardless of how much you have. So, we argue about that a lot.

    What do future plans look like for you two? You mentioned settling down

    Yeah. I’m hoping we get married in a year. But we still have to settle our finances first before moving further. I don’t think we can get married while his income is still unstable. So, when that is fixed, we can plan.

    Do you both have safety nets?

    I don’t know about him, but I have a monthly ₦10k ajo contribution to save money. I’m also looking for an investment platform to join and see what investing can look like for me.

    What’s your ideal financial future as a couple?

    I’d like us to set up our own business. Since we’re in the education sector, we hope to have a school someday. Then maybe also invest in real estate.

    Interested in talking about how money moves in your relationship? If yes, click here.


    *Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.


    NEXT READ: He Teaches Me How to Make Money. I Teach Him How to Manage It

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  • When Tope* (24) left Nigeria for Egypt in 2021, she believed she was chasing a better life; one that would allow her to support her family, save money, and return home with pride. Instead, she found herself trapped in a cycle of exploitation. 

    This is the story of how she spent two years working as a domestic worker abroad and came back home with nothing.

    As Told To Boluwatife

    My second time at the Cairo International Airport in Egypt was a very different experience from my first. 

    The excitement and hope I felt when I first set foot in the country had been enveloped by regret and shame. I’d let everyone down: my parents, siblings and even myself. 

    I tried to distract myself by watching people come and go at the airport. I wondered if some of the dark-skinned girls I saw were entering Egypt for the first time. Maybe, like me, they also thought their lives were about to change. I desperately wanted to walk up to one and tell her to turn back and run as fast as possible. To warn her that she could end up like me. 

    But even as I sat there lost in thought, I knew I was lucky to be leaving at all. For weeks, I hadn’t been sure I ever would. My sponsor — the woman who brought me to Egypt — had made it clear that going home wouldn’t be easy.

    She’d threatened me for weeks, insisting I couldn’t leave unless my family paid for my return flight and the balance of her “investment” on me. 

    “You think you can come here to work for free and just go?” she hissed. “Pay, or stay here forever.”

    In the end, my parents took out loans from family friends so that I could return home. When my sponsor finally gave me my passport and flight details, she said, “You should be grateful. Some girls never leave.”

    She didn’t give me a single naira. Not even for transport from the airport. I was returning to Nigeria with nothing.

    Two years before this event, I’d left Nigeria for Egypt as a restless 20-year-old, desperate to ease the financial pressure on my family.  

    My parents are struggling traders, and we grew up poor. Rationing food and surviving on loans were our normal. I can’t count the number of times my dad had to avoid coming home because his creditors were always chasing him for their money. 

    The pandemic in 2020/2021 worsened our financial situation. Business was terrible, and my dad took even more loans. My two younger siblings couldn’t attend school due to unpaid fees, my elder brother dropped out of polytechnic, and hopelessness became a dark cloud over the house. I tried to support as much as possible with the little I made as a hairdresser, but it was clear that we needed something more. 

    When I heard a woman in our area was connecting girls to jobs in Egypt, I didn’t hesitate. She told me I’d be working as a nanny. “They’ll treat you like family,” she said. “You’ll earn in foreign currency. You can send money home every month.”

    To make the arrangement even better, I didn’t have to bring any money. My sponsor would cover everything: my passport, visa, and the entire travel process. In exchange, I’d give them 90% of my salary once I started working in Egypt for two years. I was supposed to keep the remaining 10% as pocket money or send it home to my parents.

    I imagined finally earning enough to save my family from poverty. I even saw myself finding a way out of Egypt to another foreign country after the two years. I had big dreams.

    But from the moment I arrived in Egypt, I knew my sponsor had sold me a lie.

    There was no nanny job. I was a full house girl; cleaning, washing, and taking care of three children under four. The house had five bedrooms and only one house girl: me.

    I worked from 5 a.m. until past midnight. No rest and only one day off in two weeks. No privacy, either. I wasn’t allowed to go outside. The only time I saw sunlight was when I took the trash out.

    My employers took my passport and didn’t let me use my phone during the day. The madam would scream at me in Arabic when she was angry. The man of the house never touched me, but I made sure to never be alone in a room with him. Something about the way he looked at me made my skin crawl.

    My main issue was the pay. The family sent it directly to my sponsor, who claimed my 10% was E£500. She advised me to keep E£100 as pocket money and send the rest home to my family. 

    It sounded like sensible advice to me. I spent all my time at my employers’ house and had minimal expenses, so it was better to support my family as much as possible. My sponsor took care of sending my money home. Or at least that’s what she told me. 

    She never did. 

    Six months into the job, my mum asked if I’d settled enough to start sending them money. That’s how I found out my sponsor hadn’t sent anything home. When I confronted her, she claimed she was keeping the money to send in bulk since ₦14k (The exchange rate was around ₦35 to an Egyptian Pound) was “too small” to send every month. 

    After that, every time I asked for updates on when she planned to send the money, she said it was “processing”.

    I found more inconsistencies in the story my sponsor sold me. I made friends with some other African maids and learnt it wasn’t normal for my salary to go to my sponsor. Apparently, I was supposed to collect my money myself and then remit her share to her. 

    Also, there was no “processing” that should have prevented her from sending my money home. She was obviously stealing from me. 

    I confronted my sponsor, and she told me I was stupid. “Who do you think you are to question me?” she shouted, “You want to collect salary yourself so you can keep my money, right?”

    When I saw that the approach didn’t work, I went to my madam and asked her to pay me directly. She must have thought I was trying to steal from my sponsor because she chased me out of the house and reported me to my sponsor.

    My sponsor welcomed me back with beatings. She beat me so much that I have a small bald spot on my head from where she dragged my hair during the ordeal. It was her way of making sure I wouldn’t try to go behind her back again.

    For the next year and a half, I endured. I went from one employer to another, enduring mistreatment and hunger. I even worked with someone who threw plates at me when she was angry. I told myself I just had to wait out the two years to pay my sponsor back so I’d be free. Then I’d work for one more year to gather money and look for something else to do.

    However, at the end of the two years, my sponsor began to tell me a different story. She claimed I had mostly worked with people who paid low salaries, so I hadn’t fully repaid her investment. She claimed I still owed her a year’s equivalent of salaries.

    At that point, I was just done. Even if I stayed, what was my assurance that she wouldn’t turn around again to claim the money wasn’t complete? I begged her to let me return to Nigeria, where I’d work and pay her back. But she refused. 

    She insisted I had to pay her back and raise money for my return flight before she’d let me go. At the end of the day, I had to involve my parents for help. 

    I hated doing that. I was supposed to go and hustle to create a better life for them; yet I didn’t send them anything for two years, and I was still calling them to help me raise money. I don’t know how they managed to borrow ₦2m to clear my debt and pay for my flight ticket, but they did.

    I’ve been back in Nigeria for almost two years now, and I’m worse off than I was when I left. Previously, I had a small kiosk where I attended to clients, but now I only earn money from hairdressing by providing home services to clients. I supplement my income with cleaning jobs, but my ₦60k – ₦90k/month salary is hardly enough for survival.

    My parents still haven’t fully repaid the loans they took to bring me out of Egypt. I support when possible, but sending ₦30k monthly feels like a drop in an endless ocean. They don’t bother me about the loans. In fact, they’ve told me they plan to sell my dad’s land in the village to clear the remaining balance, but that makes me feel worse. I put them in this situation. 

    Still, I’m grateful to be back. I heard stories of girls who died in their employer’s house, and nothing happened because who even cares what happens to you? I also know of sponsors who did worse than what mine did to me. 

    I regret taking the step to move in the first place, but I thank God I have the chance to start again. I know things will get better soon. Or maybe I’m just hoping. Because hope is the only thing I have now.


    *Name has been changed for the sake of anonymity.


    ALSO READ: 5 Nigerians Share Their Biggest Loan App Regrets

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  • This article is part of Had I Known, Zikoko’s theme for September 2025, where we explore Nigerian stories of regret and the lessons learnt. Read more Had I Known stories here.


    No one wants to look like they’re struggling, even when their account balance is crying for help. The pressure to perform success and show people you’ve “arrived” is very real, and it manifests in multiple ways, whether it’s borrowing money for aso-ebi, planning an Instagram-worthy vacation you can’t afford, or throwing a wedding just to compete with your cousin’s.

    We spoke to six Nigerians who learned (the hard way) that keeping up appearances can cost more than just money; it can cost your peace, your savings, and sometimes your sanity. 

    “I moved into a neighbourhood I couldn’t afford because I wanted to live like my coworkers” — Kunle*, 40

    When I got a promotion at work in 2018, I decided I needed to move neighbourhoods. My office was in Lekki, and I’d lived in Bariga for the three years I’d spent at the job. I thought it was time for an upgrade.

    My house in Bariga was comfortable. In fact, I spent almost nothing on transportation because my office provided a staff bus that took me to work and brought me back home. 

    However, Bariga no longer felt worthy of my “status”. I’d been promoted to senior manager, and most of the other managers lived on the Island. How would I open my mouth to tell people I lived in “Bariga”? I didn’t stop to consider that these other managers were single, and some even lived with friends, with whom they likely shared rent expenses. 

    The promotion increased my salary from ₦400k to ₦650k, and I thought I was a big man. That’s how I carried my wife and child and left our ₦800k/year two-bedroom apartment in Bariga for a ₦1.8m three-bedroom apartment in Ajah. To me, it was a reasonable move. I could pay rent with three months’ salary, and most importantly, I’d be able to network with other upwardly mobile professionals on the Island. The move felt like the next reasonable step for success. 

    Then the bills came. In addition to my rent, I had to pay a ₦500k annual service charge plus other estate dues and security. My electricity bill also doubled, and the worst of all, school fees. I can’t remember the exact amount, but my child’s school fees must’ve increased by at least five times. Food on the Island was also terribly expensive. My wife still worked on the mainland, so we spent a fortune fueling her car every week. I also strongly believe the Ajah traffic cut short our life expectancy by about five years. I used to think the third mainland bridge traffic was crazy in the mornings, but Ajah traffic was worse. 

    Within a year, I started to regret my decision, but somehow, the desire for the prestige that came with saying, “I live around Lekki-Ajah”, kept me in that hell for five more years. My wife eventually talked sense into me, and we moved to Surulere in 2023. 

    I regret not leaving sooner. If I’d saved my money instead of chasing status, I’d probably have my own property today.

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    “My wedding budget broke me” — Niyi*, 36

    I work in entertainment, and everyone expects you to show up and show out. All the weddings around me were grand: multiple photoshoots, outfit changes, a dedicated social media content creation team, an A-list photography and videography team, big food spreads, after parties, and the whole drama. 

    When it was time for my own wedding in 2023, I told myself I had to come correct. Plus, I’m Yoruba, and we have a reputation for throwing the biggest parties. I had to come correct.

    Our wedding planner gave my wife and me a ₦16m budget, but we only had about ₦5m between us. We figured we’d get cash gifts from friends as the wedding date approached, so we went all in. I booked an expensive hall and spent a fortune on decor, outfits, and photoshoots. I think we even went over the budget. 

    Unfortunately, money didn’t come in as much as I hoped, and I eventually had to borrow about ₦6m to make up the expenses. It took me a year to finish paying that debt, and I had to adjust my living standard to survive that period. It’s been almost two years, and I don’t think my finances have fully recovered. 

    That wedding broke me, and I regret spending so much money on it. I would’ve definitely still had a memorable wedding without breaking the bank trying to trend and impress people. 

    “I spent over ₦2m on a vacation for the gram” — Amaka*, 26

    I used to be chronically online, and whenever I saw ladies posting their travel pictures on Instagram, I felt like I needed that too. It felt like the baddie rite of passage. 

    So, I started actively planning for a vacation. I don’t even like to travel like that; I just wanted to take really cool pictures and get the bragging rights associated with leaving Nigeria.

    I saved about ₦700k and borrowed ₦600k from a friend to meet up with the time frame for a package group tour I saw on Instagram. 

    The destination was two African countries, and it wasn’t the most comfortable group tour. The photos looked good, but the hotel was terrible. I still paid for extra tourist activities, WiFi, and food because the package didn’t cover many things. I must’ve spent over ₦2m in total on that trip.

    I returned home with fire pictures but with debt on my neck. I wish I’d just used my money to buy a phone. At least I’d still be using the phone today.

    “I lent money I couldn’t lose because being a ‘respected figure’ meant spending big” — Safiya*, 34

    When I started working and earning money, I believed generosity equalled love and respect. I’m the firstborn child and grandchild to both grandparents, and I thought I always had to give money to “defend” my status as olori-ebi.

    So, I was there if someone needed something — for a party, gift, loan, or wedding. I gave big gifts and paid the biggest share in family events. 

    One time, my cousin asked for a ₦500k loan for a professional exam, and I felt good that she came to me. I loaned her the money, but she never paid it back. I also couldn’t ask because I was “olori-ebi”. That money was a huge chunk of my savings, and losing it affected my finances for a while. Coincidentally, my phone developed issues at the same time, and I couldn’t fix it because I had no money. I think that’s when it dawned on me that I was doing too much. No one sent me to become a Mother Theresa and fix everybody’s problems. 

    Now, I’m learning to form healthy boundaries and avoid giving the impression that they can always come to me for support. I’m also looking for support.

    “I looked fashionable on the outside, but was soaking garri almost every day” — Chika*, 28

    My first corporate job was at an oil and gas company, and when I first started, I allowed the pressure of wanting to look good to get to my head.

    I was comparing myself with people who’d worked there for years and hardly repeated clothes. I wanted to look good and feel among. Plus, I felt like people around me should be able to tell I worked in oil and gas. People equate “oil and gas” with money, so I had to look the part. 

    So, I’d spend almost 60% of my ₦700k monthly salary on clothes and shoes. People always complimented my dressing, and I loved it. A year later, an issue at work delayed my salary for a week. 

    That incident opened my eyes to the fact that I was living from hand to mouth. I constantly spent all my money before the end of the month and relied entirely on salary day. When there was a small shift in the schedule, I found myself completely broke. I soaked garri every day until my salary entered that month. It was so crazy. I was looking fashionable outside but soaking garri inside. 

    I won’t say I made a complete 180 and started making better financial decisions immediately, but I’ve made some progress. I realised I was just overspending to look the part, so now I try to question the purpose of an item before I purchase it.

    “I let the Lagos lifestyle syndrome get to me” — Anita*, 27

    I made some questionable friendship choices when I first moved to Lagos in 2021. I’d moved for work and wanted to blend in quickly, so I attended events and made friends with the most outgoing people I could find. I thought the more I went out with them, the better my social life would be.

    There was somewhere to go every weekend: rooftop bars, clubs, and new restaurants. I always wanted to say yes. Sometimes I couldn’t afford it, but I’d dip into my savings or borrow, so I wouldn’t seem “boring” or “poor.”

    There were times I couldn’t afford to save, postponed repairs in my house, ate once or twice a day, but popped up on WhatsApp status with cocktails. It caught up: burnout, anxiety, little sleep, and massive financial stress.

    One time, I fell sick for two weeks, and none of my so-called friends reached out to me. I realised I wasn’t building the connection I wanted. I was just turning up, and it was taking too much out of me. So, I slowly cut off those friends and the urge to live a certain “Lagos lifestyle”. My life is more boring now, but I’m not pushing myself trying to keep up with anyone.

    *Names have been changed for anonymity.


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    Nairalife #334 bio

    What’s your earliest memory of money?

    Two events come to mind. When I was around 10, I started helping my dad keep stock records at his factory, and he paid me ₦20 or ₦50. I can’t remember how much exactly; I just know it was a very small amount of money.

    The second event is also within the same period. My dad sat my brother and me down and gave us a book he titled “Be wise.” Then, he taught us about the Book of Proverbs and how to manage money. I think he saw how I was blowing money anyhow, and wanted me to be more intentional about how I spent. He talked a lot about saving. To be honest, I didn’t really care.

    Ah. So his speech didn’t have any effect on your life?

    Well, it did a little. At least, in secondary school, I saved for weeks to get my first phone: a Tecno L3 for ₦13500. I remember printing out the picture of the phone and putting it on my locker so I could see it when I woke up every day. I saved all my ₦1k/week pocket money and any extra money I got from relatives to get that phone. 

    Saving for the phone may have been an isolated event, though. After secondary school in 2014, I got a job working for my cousin. She was in a different state and needed someone to follow up on her clients for some training programs she organised. My job was basically to call the clients and schedule the training. 

    She paid me ₦10k/month and recharge card. I did that for three months and blew all the money on parties and other random things. See why my dad was trying to get me to make better financial choices?

    Haha. I see. Speaking of, what was money like growing up? You mentioned your dad had a factory

    Yeah. He made and supplied fragrance across the country. It was like our family business; my mum worked there, too. I was a nepo baby growing up. There was no stress about money or anything like that. 

    At some point after secondary school, things changed a bit. The insurgency in the north — apparently, northerners buy fragrance the most — and the fluctuating exchange rate affected business. My dad had to switch business models, and our living standards reduced slightly. But it was nothing major. We moved from about 17 cars (including personal and commercial) to about four. 

    I mean, there were still cars. Let’s go back to the stint with your cousin

    I did the job for three months and didn’t do anything again for money until 2016. By then, I was in 200 level at uni. Does this classify as working for money, though? That was when MMM and its cousins were popping, and I used most of my ₦60k allowance to get in on the action too.

    I actually made a lot of money in those Ponzi schemes. Money flowed in, and I lavished it on clothes, food, outings, and my babe. She was in Ireland, and I’d regularly send her money in Bitcoin. I had no plan for the money, so I didn’t even take note of how much I was making and spending. After the schemes crashed that year, I still had about ₦200k. I spent that one, too. 

    In 2018, I started getting a little serious about money. I was in 400 level, and decided to try some businesses with my friends.

    What kind of businesses?

    The first one we tried was importing electronic shisha pens from China. I told my parents, and my religious mum wanted to lose her mind. But my dad said, “Abeg, let’s run this thing.” He gave me the initial capital I used to import the first set of goods. 

    The profit was high. Each pen cost ₦500 and we sold it at ₦5k – ₦8k. It would’ve been great, but we sold too many on credit and getting paid became a hassle. Plus, shisha doesn’t hit like weed does. It’s just like puffing flavoured smoke. So, the pens weren’t too popular. Overall, we had a lot of operational inefficiency, and the business didn’t kick off. We did it for six months.

    The next business I tried was a total failure. 

    What happened?

    I went to school in a state that isn’t as developed as Lagos, and my business idea was that people could pay me a percentage to get them gadgets from Lagos. The first client I got wanted an iPhone 6. 

    He gave me ₦40k, and I found someone willing to sell me the phone on an online marketplace. I paid the person and never saw the phone. Long story short, I had to pay off the ₦40k gbese. That’s how the business ended. 


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    Phew. Did you try another?

    No abeg. After uni in 2019, I returned to Lagos and chilled for a bit. I felt NYSC was a waste of time, so I didn’t go immediately. Instead, I took advantage of Buhari’s N-Power scheme to learn mixology. I didn’t pay for it; they still paid me ₦10k/month. My dad also supported me with pocket money that year.

    To finish the training, I did a three-week internship at a hotel. I suffered in that hotel, sha. Imagine standing for hours to fold towels. I just kept thinking, “So people actually do this?” It was really depressing. It took me going to NYSC camp in November and blowing all the money I’d gathered — about ₦100k — for me to leave that depressive state. So, if you’re ever in a shitty head space, the key to recovery may be to blow money away. 

    Skrim. Results may vary. What did you do after camp?

    I didn’t want to return to the hotel, so I called my cousin and told her I wanted to do digital marketing. I first learned about digital marketing in university when I attended a seminar on the topic. I liked its flexibility, and I continued gathering bits of knowledge about it over the years. 

    So, when it came to looking for a PPA, I knew that’s what I wanted to do. My cousin helped me land a ₦25k/month social media management internship with a design agency. This was in addition to NYSC’s ₦19800 stipend and the ₦10k from N-Power. The N-Power payments lasted a year. After about two months, the NYSC stipend also increased to ₦33k, bringing my total income to almost ₦70k.

    Was this good money?

    It was. I didn’t have major expenses; I lived with my parents and drove to work. My dad also paid for fuel, so my life was chill.

    Things changed when COVID hit. My job slashed my salary to ₦20k, and the lockdown affected my dad’s business. By then, he’d switched from producing fragrance to running event centres, and no one was going to events. No money entered that house during that period. Omo, I touched suffer. For the first time in my life, my brother and I had to contribute money to support the home’s expenses.

    Thankfully, things looked up towards the end of 2020. I got my first big boy job as an account executive at a marketing agency.

    How much was the pay?

    ₦150k/month. I deployed paid media ads for national and international brands. It was a huge deal, but it was also stressful. At least the money made up for the stress. My family’s situation had improved, so I didn’t have to pick up bills. I was just sending money on outings and food.

    You were balling

    Yes, and it gets better. My brother is an ethical hacker, and he managed to find a loophole in the betting system. 

    I can’t really break it down, but it involved depositing naira and withdrawing the higher dollar equivalent before converting again at the black market rate. The exchange rate meant we made far more than we put in. We also kept the money in USDT and Bitcoin. Essentially, we were betting without losing money. In a day, we could make up to ₦500k.

    You say?

    See, there was money. We balled for five months before the loophole closed. We’d go for long drives, stock the fridge with chocolate and do whatever we wanted. My brother was the brains of the operation, so he had a higher share of the loot. While he used his money to buy lands, I was just balling mine. 

    I had a girlfriend, and we could just wake up on a random day and decide to chill at hotels. I still saved a little sha. I had ₦1.2m saved when the operation finally crashed. Losing that income source pained me, but it is what it is. I also quit my job. This was in 2021.

    Wait. Why did you quit?

    The job stressed me too much. Agency work is a lot. My blood pressure consistently spiked, and it was too much for me. So, I quit and crashed at my friend’s place.

    For about two months, my routine was to wake up, smoke, spend the day lying down on my friend’s couch, and eat noodles. After I got that out of my system, I turned to freelancing. I figured it’d give me more control over my time, and I could still do digital marketing without an agency breathing down my neck.

    How did that go?

    I had a good start. A friend I’d made at the agency called and offered me a gig. It was for a brand I’d worked with before, so the campaign went well. The downside to freelancing was the pay, which is based on the campaign budget. 

    For instance, the campaign budget could be ₦10m for a quarter. The agency takes 10%, which is ₦1m. Out of that ₦1m, my pay is 30%, which is ₦300k, and that’s it for the quarter. Sometimes the agency won’t even pay on time and pile up payments for months. 

    On a good month, I was averaging ₦75k – ₦100k/month. Other months, I was poor as they come. I had the time I wanted, but money? That was another story. After freelancing for about 10 months, I decided it was enough. I applied for my current job at a government-owned agency and got the role.

    What was the role?

    Digital communications manager. When I joined in 2022, my net salary was ₦350k with allowances as high as ₦100k/month. I just got promoted this year, and my net salary has increased to ₦460k. Allowances are an extra ₦140k-ish monthly, but it’s paid in bulk at the beginning of the year. This windfall is around ₦1.6m/year.

    Not bad

    I won’t even lie; I live a comfortable life. I mean, I still want far more than what I currently have. I want to drive a Mercedes-Benz and travel to Casablanca. But I have the basics. I live in a shared apartment and pay ₦450k for rent. My transportation costs aren’t too crazy.

    I also don’t have any black tax nonsense. I still get financial support from my dad and brother. For instance, they just increased my house rent, and I’ll probably have to leave. I know I can rely on my dad and brother for support. He also readily sponsors my personal development plans. 

    I’m a part of the Toastmasters community, and my dad paid the initial ₦145k fee for me to join. He also sent me ₦100k for my birthday. My dad randomly sends money to my brother and me. We don’t ask, but he does it. Who am I to reject free money?

    I understand like mad. How would you describe your relationship with money?

    Very chaotic. I just know that money can never finish. If it does, I have people. I believe in borrowing money from friends to make considerably large purchases. So, instead of using 100% of my funds, I can borrow like 50%. That way, I don’t stretch my account too thin and can easily pay it back. I can’t spend my money and then start soaking garri. That’s nonsense.

    I started this “strategy” when I was freelancing. When I noticed I could make money this month and make nothing the next, I borrowed. The money would help me guide until money came again. I also stretched the repayment plan so I could afford to repay without stress. 

    I don’t borrow often, only strategically, and my creditworthiness is very high. People know I always pay back, so they don’t have problems loaning me money. I recently borrowed ₦600k from a friend to buy an iPhone. I spaced the repayment into three months, and paying back was easy. 

    Interesting. 

    Also, still on my relationship with money, I’m the worst at keeping track of my expenses. I’ve tried, but it’s not working. So, I don’t overthink it. Once I’ve paid for a few necessary things, I lock my money in a separate account and keep it as a backup for rent or emergencies. It’s not really savings because I still take from it, if necessary. 

    What do these expenses look like in a typical month?

    Tracking isn’t my strength, but I’ll try.

    Nairalife #334 expenses

    Is there anything you’d want to be better at regarding your finances?

    I want to be better at managing it and having a tracking system so I know where my money is going. 

    Do you have any financial regrets?

    Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten a 9-5 job. Freelancing would have given me more self-control because I’d know I don’t have a set amount of money coming every month.

    Besides that, I don’t have any regrets. I’m comfortable. It can be a softer life, but I dey okay.

    How much do you think would give you a softer life?

    ₦4.5m/month. I’m not necessarily expecting that from a salary. I’m thinking more in terms of starting my own business or joining the family business. I have a few ideas in mind, but I’ll wait for them to happen first before I share. But I definitely want to go into business. Let me have some free time and money to loaf around and allow the devil to use me small.

    Screaming. Is there anything you want right now but can’t afford?

    A Toyota Camry. I haven’t even checked the price.

    How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?

    7. I’m doing pretty well for myself. I don’t lack or want anything. I’m single, so no Nigerian babe to give me unnecessary expenses. I can be better, but I’m doing okay right now.


    If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.

    Find all the past Naira Life stories here.

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    Nairalife #326 bio

    What’s your earliest memory of money?

    I have plenty of memories of not having money in my childhood. Once, in JSS 2, I couldn’t participate in my school’s Christmas carol because my mum couldn’t afford the clothes. 

    I remember thinking, “How much is a white shirt or red skirt that you can’t get?” My mum insisted that she didn’t have the money, and it was frustrating. I also often missed school because I hadn’t paid my school fees. Sometimes, my aunties and uncles had to pitch in.

    Did situations like this happen often?

    They did. I was raised by a struggling single mum who tried petty businesses for money. She moved around a lot to hustle, so I had several stints living with relatives and friends. Our financial situation also played a part, though.

    Things stabilised temporarily when I was 10. My mum got with someone and had my sibling. She also had a small shop that brought in money, and we all lived together: my mum, stepdad, and sibling. The only problem was that my stepdad depended on my mum, a factor that eventually led to their separation. I know my mum was often like, “You’re a man. You can’t depend on me for money. Go and make money.”

    That incident and the whole dynamic shaped my relationship with money. I knew I wasn’t like the other people in my school, whose parents were stable and had money. I had to make money because I constantly experienced what it was like not to have money. 

    How did you go about trying to make money?

    I did some things I’m not proud of. At 15, I started having sexual relationships with men for money. I didn’t even think there was anything wrong. 

    The men I dated were my mum’s customers when she sold barbecued fish. I think it was one of the effects of poverty because when they showed interest, my mum didn’t go, “Oh, she’s a child”. Instead, it was more like, “This person likes you? Fine, go ahead.” 

    She knew they gave me gifts and money. At this point, my mum and I lived alone. Some of these men even paid our rent. 

    Hmmm

    In 2018, I got into uni and had to find another way to make money. My mum hardly made enough to pay my fees, and I often went hungry. 

    So, I reached out to a Facebook friend who sold vintage shirts. I asked if she could send me pictures of the shirts so I could market them, add a little money to the price, and take a cut for my efforts. She agreed, and I started posting them on social media. 

    I made sales, but the profit wasn’t significant; usually ₦1k here or ₦2k there. It was basically survival money. Sometimes, I saved up to sort out my ₦60k school fees. Other times, my mum rallied around to raise money, but my school fees and living expenses were primarily my responsibility. 

    I did the business until my second year in uni when I dropped out.

    Why did you drop out?

    First of all, I was depressed. Secondly, I didn’t like my course at all. I couldn’t concentrate in class, and it showed in my grades. My first-year CGPA was one point something and the school was going to make me repeat the year. That’s when I decided school wasn’t working.

    My mum was upset when I told her my decision, and I understood. We’d gone through so much and begged people for money to pay my fees. It felt like wasted effort. However, I didn’t think it was fair to continue studying something I didn’t like and couldn’t see a future in. 

    So, I officially became a dropout in 2020, packed my bags and moved to Lagos.


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    Why Lagos? Did you have any plans?

    I just knew I wanted to find a job and fend for myself. In Lagos, I lived with a male friend from Facebook who encouraged me to stay with him while I figured things out. 

    I finally found a job four months after my move. It was an administrative intern role at an energy company, and I was paid ₦15k/month. Interestingly, the same day I landed the job, the guy I was staying with sent me out of his house.

    Wait. What happened?

    He expected sex in return for allowing me to live with him, even though we never talked about that. I initially refused when he demanded it after I first moved in. Then I relented because I desperately needed to find something to do, and I couldn’t return home. 

    However, just before I got the job, I told him I didn’t want to have sex with him anymore. I appreciated him for his help and promised to contribute my quota. He wasn’t happy with that, and after several attempts to get me to change my mind failed, he sent me packing. 

    Phew. Where did you go?

    I don’t know if it was luck or divine orchestration, but I met an old family friend in the area that day. I told her my situation, and she allowed me to move in. 

    She was a baker, so after I returned from work, I had to help her till midnight, whether I was tired or not. Sometimes, I wouldn’t sleep. I couldn’t complain because she was literally putting a roof over my head.

    I see. Back to your job. Was ₦15k enough for anything?

    It wasn’t. To supplement my income, I began helping to sell the company’s solar products on Facebook marketplace for a ₦1k – ₦1500 profit. This typically brought me an additional ₦6k – ₦7k weekly. 

    But my accommodation issues were far from over. After living with the family friend for a month, she told me her mother-in-law was coming to stay. In other words, I had to leave again. I went online and put out a post looking for places to rent. I didn’t have money; I was just telling people to look for houses for me. 

    A random person saw my post online and asked if I had found anything. The question came when I saw an apartment for ₦100k/year. So, I told this person, and he just sent me the money like that. I didn’t even know him. I still don’t know what he looks like.

    Mad

    After I moved in, my problem changed from accommodation issues to “How am I going to pay my next rent?” ₦15k wasn’t going to cover it, so I began searching for a skill that could earn me money.

    I knew I could write, and I heard people could get writing jobs from foreign companies online. I decided to do the same, so I started writing on LinkedIn. This was in 2021. Three months later, I got my first job from LinkedIn from a Nigerian guy who lived abroad. 

    He said he could tell I was enthusiastic about writing, so he hired me to write five articles weekly. My salary was ₦12k/month. I did all three hustles — writing, my 9-5, and Facebook marketplace sales — until 2022, when I quit the 9-5.

    Why did you quit?

    They refused to increase my salary, yet they kept adding to my responsibilities. I’d even “graduated” to the front desk. I couldn’t do it anymore, so I left. This meant I also had to stop selling the products on Facebook. I only made profits because the company gave them to me at a discounted rate as an employee.

    So, I focused on writing. By this time, I’d grown a considerable following on LinkedIn and had started charging ₦5k for LinkedIn optimisation and classes to teach people how to grow on the platform. Quitting was scary; I didn’t know if I could bank on LinkedIn alone. But I figured I’d just make it work. I was also job hunting.

    Two months later, I found an intern content writer role, but there was no pay. It was only a ₦5k/month stipend, but I learned much in that job. I did content strategy, social media management, and writing. 

    But ₦5k though

    The money wasn’t commensurate with my work, but I saw it as an opportunity to learn and gain writing experience in an actual organisation, not the self-taught thing I’d done before. Now, people who understood writing better than I did critiqued my work, and it improved my skill. 

    It also helped that I was still making money here and there writing on LinkedIn. In fact, the job grew my LinkedIn efforts because my writing improved, and more people began to follow me. 

    I left the job in 2023 for my mental health and freelanced for the rest of the year. I increased my LinkedIn optimisation service to ₦20k and sold ebooks about growing on LinkedIn. I was a proper LinkedIn influencer.

    What was your income like during this period?

    I made an average of ₦100k/month. I also got occasional invitations to speaking engagements, and those brought in like ₦10k – ₦15k. I wasn’t super rich, but I could sustain myself. 

    By 2024, I started considering moving my focus away from LinkedIn. I was tired of posting online and needed to start thinking long-term, so I dusted off my CV and went job-hunting again. In May 2024, I landed my current administrative executive job with an event company. 

    My salary is ₦100k/month, but I usually get an additional ₦60k for event coordination. Also, my dad returned to my life in 2024 and put me on a ₦200k monthly allowance, so my total income is around ₦360k.

    Curious, is there a reason he put you on an allowance?

    We’re just trying to have a relationship again. 

    Also, I returned to uni via a distance learning program around the same time my dad returned. School doesn’t afford me the time to pursue side gigs. Plus, my tuition fee is ₦300k/year. I need as much support as I can get. So, I negotiated the allowance with him, and he’s been paying it.

    Do you still make money from LinkedIn?

    It’s once in a blue moon. I don’t pay as much attention to it as I used to. I can’t remember when last someone came to me for profile optimisation. But I’m very fine with it. I feel like I’m finally moving forward.

    It’s part of the reason I returned to school. I want to build real-life skills rather than be that one person on LinkedIn who always does “aspire to Maguire.” LinkedIn was a lifeline for survival, but I’m past that now. 

    I’m currently studying a business-related degree, and with my admin experience, I think I’m on the right track to a solid career path. I also plan to get a master’s abroad after this degree. 

    Rooting for you. Let’s break down your typical monthly expenses

    Nairalife #326 monthly expenses

    I often borrow money from loan apps in the middle of the month when my account has turned red. The funny thing is, I repay loans every month and still borrow again because I don’t have money by the time I pay them back. It’s a continuous cycle.

    One thing I don’t do, though, is touch my savings. I prefer to borrow and pay the money back. I save consistently all year round and lock it in my Piggyvest because it eventually saves me when rent comes along. My plan for my savings this year is to repaint my room, pay rent, travel with my friends, and buy myself something nice at the end of the year. 

    How would you describe your relationship with money?

    I used to struggle to spend money, but now I see it as a tool to cater to my immediate needs and care for myself. I want to make money to save up to do something nice for myself. I don’t believe in just working and working. I want to hang out with friends and travel, even if it’s within Nigeria, because I’ve not reached abroad level yet. 

    Is there anything you want right now but can’t afford?

    It’s just one thing: to leave this country. 

    What’s an ideal amount of money you think you should be earning?

    With how this country is going, I should be good with ₦1m/month. I believe I’m not earning that now because I don’t have the skills. That’s why I’m investing in school and learning technical skills so I can get that soon.  

    How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1 – 10?

    5. I’m not doing badly, especially considering where I’m coming from. I’ve achieved some stability, and it’s great. But I also don’t like having to borrow money because my income doesn’t take me to the end of the month. 


    If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.

    Find all the past Naira Life stories here.

    Subscribe to the newsletter here.

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  • With inflation biting hard at Nigerians, more citizens are saying painful goodbyes to some household expenses. Even with gainful employment and thriving businesses, the daily needs of these subjects are outgrowing their income bands at an alarming rate.

    Johnson* | 33 | Digital Strategist | Lagos

    Salary: 300k

    I calculate every kobo before spending these days. I focus on my needs, and I’ll say foodstuff takes the hit.

    I can only afford half of what I used to stock in the house in 2022. I can’t remember the last time I bought clothes. I’m constantly checking my account balance to see if it will last till the next payday. Not a good way to live at all.

    Janet* | 39 | Academician | Ado-Ekiti

    Salary: 180K

    I’m not doing badly with my finances at the moment, but I really wish it was better. Living in Ado-Ekiti has been really helpful. It has curbed my frequency at clubs and parties  and my  impulse buying rate, unlike when I was in Lagos.

    In 2021, I owned a car, could comfortably go on vacations and even jump on domestic flights . I sold my car in 2022 in high hopes of relocating overseas. But I’m using part of that money to further my studies in Nigeria. And I can’t even think of getting a new car because things are so expensive. I have to pause one need for the other every time. It’s so sad!

    Kareem*| 51 | Businessman | Osogbo

    Income range: 15m – ₦20m per annum

    Things have been challenging. I’m sure my kids know something is wrong even though they don’t talk. My last born is still seeking admission to a government school. It was hard to tell her she won’t be attending a private university like her elder siblings. In fact, I couldn’t break the news to her. It was my wife that told her, and surprisingly, she took the news well. I hope she doesn’t hate me if strikes delay her. It was a painful but necessary decision. Business has slowed, and it will be a financial trap if I insist on putting her in a private university.

    Efosa* | 31 | Businessman  | Location: Lagos

    Income range : 20 – 30m per annum

    My income and lifestyle have been consistent, so I can’t complain. I can afford everything I want — well, except for property in Banana Island. The whole fuel scarcity situation won’t have a lot of bearing on my finances. I’ll likely commute less to conserve fuel. Besides that, everything else will be okay. I’m quite prudent with my spending,  so no significant or unmanageable financial exposures for me. I’m also considering getting a bicycle for short runs, like to the nearby supermarket.

    Davina*  | Age: 32  | Project Manager  | Lagos

    Salary: 350k

    Between 2021 and 2022, I could comfortably blow 100k in a month and not feel it. But if I try it now, I’ll call a Town Hall meeting; EFCC should even arrest me.

    For the better part of the last two years, I ate out almost every day. But now, I’ve had to cut down on eating out. My daily spend used to be 8k per day and 5k for the weekend. I’ve reduced it to 30k per week. I’m struggling to maintain the hard limit sha. Getting paid in dollars is the goal. I sometimes pity low-income earners because there’s no way they won’t be neck-deep in loan debts to survive in this economy.

    Korede* | Age: 32 | Businesswoman | Abuja

    Income range: 1.7m per annum

    It hasn’t been easy this year. In fact, I’m always scared of going out because of the expenses involved.

    I find myself drawing a detailed budget for everything. Before, I’d go to the market once a week, but I’ve had to change that to once a month. The prices for food items have drastically changed, and I can’t afford to spend as much as I used to on food. It’s also affecting my business. I used to import nothing less than 50kg of goods before, but now, I can hardly do 20 kg due to the increase in dollar rate. I pray it gets better because there are places I’d love to go but can’t because of this crazy hike in fuel prices.

    Kunmi* | 28 | Journalist | Lagos

    Salary: 180k

    I don’t go out as much as I’d like to anymore. The fear of taxi fares is the beginning of wisdom. I also used to buy and spend a lot more on food than I currently do. In 2021/2022, I was spending an average of 30k – 35k ordering food in a month. That has significantly reduced to about 15k monthly in 2023. I just stick to whatever is available at home. I’m anxious about how things might still change for the worst.

    I’m considering learning how to ride a bicycle or scooter. I also know for sure that outings to the island will be less frequent. It’ll make more sense to go out with a group so we can split the fare. In short, just stay at home.

  • Be a trust fund baby

    The easiest way to have money in this life is to have rich parents. If you’re a trust fund baby, vex money is your birthright and you don’t need to stress to get it. But if you’re not, you’ll have to swallow your pride and look for another option.

    Have a second 9 to 5

    It’s remote work season, and everyone is working more than one job to survive. If one job is stressing your life, ditch it and focus on the other one. In many ways, it’s very similar to having a side chic or side guy.

    Collect a salary advance

    If your job has decided that it wants to stress you, isn’t it only appropriate that you should be getting paid upfront for it? Once your job starts vexing you, collect a salary advance and ghost them.

    Have a sugar daddy/mummy

    Find a sugar daddy or sugar mummy that’ll date you in a way that’ll please God. They’ll be sending you money when you need it and providing moral support when your job stresses you out. 

    Or bill your partner

    If you have a partner, rub their head, cook for them, shed crocodile tears, or even shed real tears so they can pity you and dash you vex money. Just do whatever you need to do collect money from them.

    Have a side business

    You need to have a side hustle that’s not just another job. Because, what if both of them start to move mad at the same time? Where will you run to?

    Trade crypto

    Yes, yes. We know crypto has dipped, but that’s exactly why you should buy it. Remember when you said you’ll buy the dip? Better start doing so now  so you can have “keep your job” money by the time it pops. 

    You can easily buy cryptocurrencies and trade them on the Bundle app. They have over 80 cryptocurrencies from Bitcoin and Ethereum to SHIBA. Download the app and sign up to get started.

  • For this fashion designer, it’s the people that come through for her.

    Vol 18 | 20-02-2023

    Good morning, 🌞

    Can you guess how much cash I’m currently holding? ₦100.

    I’m not going to lie; the note is a prized possession at this point. I randomly catch myself reaching for my wallet to confirm it’s still in there. I’d never thought this day would come, but here we are.

    It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t a chaotic situation.

    Speaking of chaotic situations, the fashion designer in today’s #NairaLife is no stranger to those. In the past 10 years, she’s had to deal with a few financial struggles. Some were out of her control, and others were a consequence of her decisions. But somehow, she always finds a way out of them.

    On #LoveCurrency, the theme is “love will always come through”. To mark this year’s Valentine’s Day, six people share details of their relationships and how much it costs them to celebrate special occasions with their partners.

    In this letter:

    • #NairaLife: How Does This Fashion Designer End Up in Tough Financial Situations?
    • HustlePrint: From Studying Agricultural Engineering to Working at Spotify
    • #LoveCurrency: Valentine’s Day Spending Across 6 Different Relationships
    • Money Meanings: “Collateral”
    • Game: #HowMuchLast
    • Where The Money At?!

    #NairaLife: How Does This Fashion Designer End Up in Tough Financial Situations?

    This 25-year-old fashion designer has had a fair share of tricky financial circumstances. But the consistent pattern in her story is how she always finds random people to get her out of them.

    This is what her #NairaLife looks like

    Some other great money articles you should read:

    From Studying Agricultural Engineering to Working at Spotify

    In 2016, Zainab Ayodimeji began her transition into tech after realising that her agricultural engineering background may not give her the career and income growth she wanted. Now, she’s helping Spotify teams make important decisions for users. In this story, she shares how the journey was a mix of vibes, strategy, and pure luck.

    Read her story here

    Valentine’s Day Spending Across 6 Different Relationships

    In case you missed it: last week Tuesday was Valentine’s Day. And while we were in the spirit, we explored how lovers across different relationships came through for one another and the cost of doing this. From a student’s first Valentine with his girlfriend to the long-distance married couple and the writer receiving gifts from three different partners, this special edition of #LoveCurrency is one hell of a sappy read.

    Read the stories here

    Money Meanings

    Game: #HowMuchLast

    #HowMuchLast is a game where we show you an item and you tell us (and the world) the highest amount you’d pay for it.

    Some weeks will be Okin biscuit, some others will be SUVs.

    This week, let’s test how much you’re willing to pay for what everyone swears is fast internet. So, #HowMuchLast for a Starlink device?

    What’s the most you’d pay? Tweet at us here.

    Where The Money At?!

    We can’t say we’re about the money and not actually help you find the money.

    So we’ve compiled a list of job opportunities for you. Make sure you share this with anyone who might need it because in this community, we look out for each other.

    Again, don’t mention. We gatchu.

    Share this newsletter

    All good things must come to an end. But not this good thing. We’ll be back next week.

    In the
    meantime, keep reading Zikoko’s articles and be sure to share the love.

    Till next week…

    Yours cashly,

    Toheeb,

    Zikoko’s ‘OG’ Mr. Money

    Did someone awesome send this to you?

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    Nigeria

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  • Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.

    This 25-year-old fashion designer has had a fair share of tricky circumstances. But the consistent pattern in her story is how she always finds random people to get her out of them. 

    This is what her #NairaLife looks like.

    What’s your earliest memory of money?

    I lived with my aunt and her husband from when I was three to ten years old. I didn’t think about money during those years, but on some level, I thought we had it. My aunt’s husband regularly changed cars, but I later realised it was because he was a driver for transport companies and private individuals. I went to a private school, but I was sent out of school a couple of times because I owed school fees.

    The reality was we lived in a face-me-I-face-you apartment and shared our bathroom and kitchen with a few people in the compound. But credit to my aunt and her husband because they protected me from having to worry about money. I wasn’t aware of it until I was in secondary school — which was a catholic-run school.

    What changed?

    I had a second cousin in SS 3, who took me under her care. She handled my pocket money (₦‎1k) and provisions. During my first mid-term break, she returned what remained of my pocket money to me, and it was ₦‎950. She’d been taking care of me with her own money. 

    I had to start taking care of myself after she graduated the next year. This was when I really became aware of money and economic classes. 

    How?

    I struggled during the first term of JSS 2. I finished my ₦1k pocket money within the first week. I’m not sure how I survived until the mid-term break. When school resumed for the second term, I latched myself to a teacher, which was easy to do because I was intelligent. This teacher became my guardian and kept my pocket money for me until I needed it.

    By the time I got to senior secondary school, I stopped needing a guardian. I moved on to the next best way to maximise my resources. 

    What was that?

    My best friend and I started living on the food supplies we brought. It was a smart way to stretch our supplies, but it showed me the financial gap between my friend and me. She always had more money and contributed more food supplies. I also started noticing how other students lived. Most of them brought a lot more provisions from home than I did and were driven to school in their parent’s cars. I couldn’t compete.

    Fast forward to 2013, I graduated from secondary school and got into university. My first year was another reminder of how little we had. 

    Tell me more

    My parents struggled to pay my acceptance fee, which was ₦75k. When they finally sorted this and my school fees, there was nothing left to pay for my rent. The plan was to rent a room with someone and split the cost. So I was supposed to pay ₦55k out of ₦110k, but we couldn’t raise the money. Thankfully, my roommate allowed me to move in until I could raise my quota of the rent. 

    My allowance wasn’t set in stone. I got what I got whenever it came. I trekked a lot in my first year. I was dating my course rep, so he covered for me a lot of times, especially when I couldn’t buy textbooks and materials. Sometimes, he bought me lunch or gave me transport money. He was a huge help.

    In my second year, I couldn’t cope with how broke I was, so I got a job at a restaurant. 

    How much did it pay?

    ₦15k, but I only got the full amount once. In my second month, the restaurant changed the pay structure and reduced the base pay to ₦5k. The rest was commission-based. I was there for three months and struggled to combine it with school. Luckily, someone gave me a lifeline.

    What do you mean?

    One of the customers took an interest in me. During one of his visits to the restaurant, he asked why I was working there, and I told him it was to support myself through school. He was empathetic and offered me a flexible job: I’d clean and take care of his house whenever he was out of town and do grocery runs when he was around. I accepted the offer without agreeing on an official salary, but I got ₦20k – 30k from him per month. Also, if any school expense came up, he took care of it. This man paid my final year school fees and bought me a laptop for my final year project. According to him, he was taking a chance on me, and the only way I could repay him was to ensure I didn’t fail out of school. 

    That must’ve been a relief 

    It was. He also bought me my first sewing machine when I decided to take up tailoring. My mum and aunt sewed, and I learnt the craft from them but never took it seriously. In my final year, I registered for a six-month course. By the end, I was almost done with uni and had only my project to sort out, so I launched my fashion design business. I made about ₦100k – 120k after the first two to three months. 

    What year was this?

    2018. After graduation, I was posted to the north-central for NYSC. I had a cousin there; the plan was to live with them for the year. I thought it’d allow me to save as much money as I could, and I’d get a job that’d pay me at least ₦100k per month. None of that happened.

    What happened?

    My service year was my first full taste of adulting. On the day I left the orientation camp, my cousin stopped picking up my calls and didn’t show up. I followed a friend from the camp whose boyfriend came to pick her up, but I wasn’t comfortable staying over with them, so I found a hotel. I had about ₦50k in my account and paid ₦15k for a night. My cousin called later that night, but I was too mad to pick up. I took their earlier ghosting as a sign to sort things out myself. They never called me back.

    Then my Place of Primary Assignment (PPA) rejected me, claiming they didn’t need a corps member. I had no job or place to live. 

    What did you do?

    I don’t even remember how many offices I went to the following morning, but they all rejected me. And I was burning money to get to these places. 

    My frustration grew, and I couldn’t hide it because one staff member called me back and asked what was wrong. I burst into tears as I narrated everything that had happened in the last 24 hours to her. 

    I didn’t expect what came after — she asked me to fetch my stuff from the hotel and offered to let me stay with her until I figured things out. 

    Did she say why she wanted to help?

    She said she didn’t want her two young daughters to be in the same situation. 

    I had somewhere to stay. But I still needed a job. It took two weeks to find an admin role at an outdoor advertising agency. My salary was ₦20k, and the government paid ₦19,800, bringing my monthly income to ₦39,800. 

    In the first few months, the lady didn’t ask me for anything. However, I tried to pull my weight around the house and bought groceries when I could. 

    How long did you stay with her?

    Three months. I left in June 2018 because I wasn’t comfortable living with her anymore. I was in a relationship, so I moved in with my partner and started looking for my own place even though I had less than ₦150k in savings. 

    But how did you even raise that?

    ₦39800 for three consecutive months, and my PPA had a culture of giving out money. It could be anything from ₦10k to ₦20k in a week. During this time, my combined income was higher than my expenses. 

    Gotcha

    Eventually, I found an apartment for ₦150k/year. It completely wiped out my savings, and I couldn’t even move in because I couldn’t afford to furnish it. 

    I continued staying with my partner and living on whatever money gift I got from work, while slowly setting the place up. My partner bought a new mattress at some point, so I took the old one. I think this was when it occurred to him that I didn’t have anything in the apartment, so he bought the basic things I needed. 

    The timing was perfect because the relationship ended the following month.

    What went wrong?

    I found out that he had a fiancee. He said he’d broken it off, but I didn’t wait to find out for sure. 

    How did living alone impact your finances?

    My biggest expense was transportation. My apartment was on the outskirts, so it cost ₦1,400 to get to work and back every day. I was spending close to ₦30k/month on transportation alone when my income was ₦39,800. 

    How did you make that work?

    I picked up sewing clothes for people again. Another friend I made from camp had a bit of clout and directed people my way. Slowly, I started growing a client base, making an extra ₦30k per month. 

    By the time I settled my basic expenses and miscellaneous bills, I had nothing left. I decided to get a grip and join a savings programme at my place of work. Each person saves ₦20k/month and takes everything at the end of the year. I couldn’t afford it alone, so me and a co-worker agreed to both drop ₦10k/month. 

    For the savings arrangement to work, though, I had to be retained at the end of my service year. 

    Were you retained?

    Yes, but the promotion to full-staff barely reflected in my salary. They bumped it up to ₦45k gross, ₦39k net. After saving ₦10k, I had only ₦29k to live on. By the end of 2019, I’d saved ₦120k. I received about ₦90k in bonus and ₦50k in money gifts from work.

    2020?

    Nothing major happened until the lockdown, which helped me cut down on daily expenses like transportation. I only had to sort out my rent. A friend had started living with me, and we’d moved to a bigger apartment, which cost ₦500k. When it was time to renew in June 2020, it took some doing to find the money. I figured it out, but it wiped my savings once again. 

    I decided to quit my job in March 2021. 

    Why?

    I was done with how little the job paid. Plus, there was no room for growth. I didn’t even have a safety net. I was just exhausted. I wanted to face my fashion design business full-time. But I needed capital to do that. And everyone I told I was quitting my job to start a business had something to chip in. I raised about ₦1m from money gifts.

    Omo 

    Between renting out a space and miscellaneous expenses, I was out of money again. I didn’t have a solid client base by this time because I hadn’t been consistent with the business. It took about three months before it picked up. 

    What changed?

    I started attending trade fairs. I either sold the ready-to-wear clothes I made or offered custom services to people who didn’t find what they liked or their size. I’d collect their numbers and call them later to pick up the conversation. Slowly, my clients increased. 

    I wasn’t making enough profit to live on, so what made all the difference was the money gifts I got from friends who’d left the country and my bosses at my former workplace. 

    Then something else had to set me back. 

    What was that?

    I entered a new relationship in 2020 and fell pregnant in July 2021. I was barely surviving on my own, so I went to a fertility clinic and got some abortion pills for about ₦50k. After two weeks, I still had pregnancy symptoms. When I returned to the clinic, they suggested another procedure, and I went through with it. But in August, I still felt bloated. One day, on my way to the shop, I started feeling sharp stomach pains. I had a feeling something was wrong and went back to the clinic. After a scan, the doctor referred me to another hospital. 

    Did they say why?

    They didn’t understand what they saw, so they sent me to another lab to get a clearer image. I paid ₦24k for a transvaginal scan, and all hell broke loose. The radiologist said they couldn’t get a good view of my reproductive system because there was a lot of fluid in the area due to a rupture between my fallopian tube and ovaries. They concluded that I was carrying an ectopic pregnancy

    When I returned to the fertility clinic, they said they couldn’t handle the surgery it required and referred me to a government hospital. After waiting at the hospital for hours, I found out the doctors were on strike and didn’t have enough doctors around to carry out the procedure. This was a huge blow because doing it at the government hospital wouldn’t have cost more than ​​₦200k. 

    What did you do?

    It was now a medical emergency, so I was referred to a private hospital. They wouldn’t let me see a doctor until I registered with the hospital and got a card, which cost ₦40k. And there was no guarantee that they’d take my case even then. I also found out that the surgery would cost about ₦1m.

    How much did you have?

    I had ₦200k left. The doctor referred me to another clinic where the surgery cost ₦450k. And my boyfriend sent me ₦150k. 

     ₦100k to go. 

    I’m not sure why, but every time I put myself in silly situations, someone randomly comes through. 

    How did it manifest this time?

    Out of the blue, my former boss called to check up on me later that night. When I told him I was in the hospital and being prepped for surgery, he promised to do something. The following morning, he sent me ₦250k. 

    Phew

    The recovery was hellish. I couldn’t work for three weeks, so my income dried out, and I was back to living on money gifts. My friend and I were struggling to pay our rent. In October 2021, we were served a quit notice. My friend was leaving the country in January 2022. Because of this, I started thinking about japa too.

    In January 2022, I started applying to schools abroad while living with a friend. In February, I found another apartment for ₦400k. I had about ₦100k and borrowed ₦300k from my friends to move.

    One month later, I was offered admission to a school in the UK. The tuition was £14,800, and they requested 50% upfront.

    What did you do?

    I called my parents and asked them to find the money for me. The plan was for them to borrow it, and I’d pay back when I got to the UK. I went ahead to borrow ₦9.5m for the proof of funds, so I could go ahead with the other processes. But I had to pay 4% of the money for every month it took me to return it. I locked it in my account for two months while the school and visa people confirmed. In the end, I paid the lender ₦760k extra.

    You want to know how I found the money, don’t you?

    I do 

    My former roommate who left in January borrowed me ₦500k from the money she planned to use to balance her tuition, which was due in August 2022. I raised the rest from my business proceeds. 

    Did your parents find the money for your own tuition?

    They found someone who promised to loan them the money if they could provide some collateral, so they put down some of their property. But the person ghosted when it was time to fulfil their end of the deal. 

    This put an end to my japa plan. I returned to face my fashion design work, but there were lots of pieces to pick up. I had to return the money my friend loaned me and renew my shop rent. I haven’t recovered from it. I worked twice as hard before I managed to pay her back in September 2022, but we fell out for a bit because I missed her deadline. Luckily, the school didn’t throw her out. 

    My shop rent has been due since last month. My house rent was due earlier this month. I need ₦900k for both, and at the moment, my cash at hand is ₦390k. 

    What’s your plan?

    I’m a little at rest because I have enough to cover my house rent. But I’ve been asking myself recently how I manage to push myself into sticky situations. I’d probably be in a better place financially if I didn’t go through with the whole japa thing last year. But I have more clients now, so unlike the previous times I’ve been in tough spots, I have a clear pathway to making money in the near future. 

    Can I ask what you make in a good month?

    Between ₦300k – 500k. About 40% of that goes into expenses. 

    What do your recurring expenses look like?

    I struggle to keep the records, so I can only give you ballpark monthly figures. 

    Is there something you want but can’t afford?

    I wanted to expand my business with about ₦3m in 2022, and someone was going to put the money down. Unfortunately, they pulled out at the last minute. I’m confident it’ll happen by the end of 2023. 

    How would you rate your financial happiness?

    It’s a 5. I’m not comfortable with where I am, but I’m no longer that girl who had to live on handouts. I may not have all the things I need, but I’ll always be good. I have people around me who have my best interests at heart. That’s good enough for now.