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  • A Nigerian’s brain is filled with many concerns fighting for attention. Thoughts like, “Where do I find the shortest queue for fuel today?” or “Which network provider won’t disgrace me today?”

    But the one you’re guaranteed to find close to the top is, “Where can I keep my money so bank charges, exchange rate, rats and snakes don’t send me back to my village?”

    Where do Nigerians keep their money? We’ve ranked all eight spots.

    8. Nigerian mother

    If you’re still keeping money with your Nigerian mother, after all she used your eyes to see when you were younger, you’re very brave. Sure, mothers are great at saving things — remember the nylon bag filled with other nylon bags? — and we’re not saying you won’t get your money back, but if she “borrows” it, how do you ask for it back? Are you ready for a how “she carried you for nine months” reminder?

    7. Thrift savings, AKA Ajo or Esusu

    I get the idea behind ajo, and it’s not bad. You agree with a group of people to put your money together, and then each person “collects” everyone’s money when it’s their turn. It makes sense if you don’t trust yourself not to finish all your money on shawarma, but what if one person decides to pack everyone’s money and run away before paying their share? If it can happen to these people, it can happen to you. Issa no for me.

    6. Under your bed or pillow

    There’s nothing better than sleeping on money, literally; at least you know where your money is. But have you met some rats? In case you don’t know, there are demon rats who’d leave your kitchen and prefer to eat certificates and cash. Just ask our politicians.

    5. Piggy banks, AKA kolo

    Kolos only work when you’re highly self-disciplined, or you’d just find yourself using broom to remove the ₦1k you dropped there the night before. 

    4. Regular banks

    You’ll understand why I’m differentiating the banks later on in this list, but here, I’m referring to the traditional commercial banks where you’ll open a “savings” account with ₦10k and come back to a balance of ₦9,650 in a matter of minutes. The ones that’ll charge “ATM maintenance” fees but will still ask you to wait 24 working days to reverse an ATM dispense error. The good thing is, you don’t have to keep your money in cash, and people can easily send you urgent ₦2k.

    3. The stock market

    You can make a sizeable profit when you keep your money in stocks, but you can also wake up tomorrow and see that all your life savings has vanished. It’s not your village people. The stock market is just volatile. Put some of your money there, not all biko.

    2. Foreign currency

    With the naira’s epileptic state, it only makes sense to want to keep your money in other currencies like the dollar. This would have been number one, but how many people even have access to dollar investments?

    1. Digital banks

    Digital banks are like mobile banks, but without the plenty charges. At least with these ones, what you put inside is what you’ll meet, plus jara.

    ALAT by Wema, Nigeria’s leading digital bank, offers multiple savings features which customers can choose from and grow their finances by earning up to 10% interest on money saved. 

    Even if you want to spend your money — because problem no dey finish — their Spend and Save feature allows you to automatically save a percentage of the transaction amount on ALAT and earn interest on your savings. You can also save in dollars with the Dollar Savings feature. Even if it’s ajo you want to do, the Rotating Savings feature offers a transparent collective savings process for you and up to 12 friends.

    Make savings and investment a lifestyle with ALAT. Check out their website for more information on the available savings features, and get started today.

  • I heard people are complaining, yet again, about the criminal rent prices in Lagos.

    Even if you’re lucky to find a reasonably priced apartment, give it a year, and inflation will greet you in typical fashion.

    But if you want to run away from Lagos because of rent prices, avoid a case of “from frying pan to fire” by crossing these places off your list.

    “Abuja is no better”

    — Debby, 35

    I thought Lagos was bad till I moved to Abuja in early 2022. I only looked for apartments in what we’d call the “suburbs”, like Kubwa and Lugbe. Tell me why I was hearing ₦1.7m to ₦1.8m for two-bedroom apartments?

    “They’ve moved Lagos craze to Ibadan”

    — Torera, 28

    Gone are the days when people move to Ibadan because they can’t afford Lagos. If you have a certain standard of living and want a decent one-bedroom mini flat in places like Bodija, just hold like ₦1m, minus agent fees.

    “Port Harcourt is also pricey”

    — Odi, 27

    Renting here is also pricey, especially well-known residential estates or GRAs like Eliozu, Woji and the like. Two-bedroom apartments in these areas can cost as much as ₦900k – ₦1.2m per annum, but it’d most likely be a new building and really standard.

    “The agents in Ado-Ekiti are in a weird competition”

    — Ope, 33

    I moved here in 2019 when you could still find standard three-bedroom apartments for between ₦200k to ₦250k. Now, you may need to budget around ₦400k if you want a new two-bedroom apartment with basic amenities, especially around areas close to the tertiary institutions. The prices may not be as bad as Lagos, but the business prospects in Ekiti are next to nothing, so it doesn’t make sense.

    Then there are the agents who love to increase rent every year, as if they’re chasing them. 

    “The popular areas in Ilorin cost more”

    — Adetola, 30

    Rent is quite reasonable in Ilorin, except if you’re looking in places like Tanke or the GRA. GRA is the best area in Ilorin, and you can get a two-bedroom apartment for around ₦400k – ₦550k per annum. It’s not as much as what it’d cost in Lagos, but it can also be ridiculous, considering it’s much lesser in the inner towns.

    RELATED: 8 Signs You Are About to Rent a Useless House in Ilorin

    “You won’t even see what you’re paying for in Abeokuta”

    — Dara, 25

    You can get a one-bedroom apartment at around ₦400k in Oke-Mosan — which is one of the nicer neighbourhoods in the city — but my problem is you won’t even see what you’re paying for. It’s either the road is bad, the landlord wakes up and decides to increase the rent or light becomes an issue.

    NEXT READ: 5 Nigerians Talk About Their Struggle With Raising Rent

  • Your December might be detty but have you thought about January yet? We’re giving you this cheat code way ahead of time so you don’t scream “sapa” again early next year, please. 

    Have a budget

    Yes, we know this is the month to prove how much of a baller you are, but don’t get carried away. Plan your money so you don’t cry hot tears next month. If you don’t know how to be a baller on a budget, we’ve got you covered.

    Gatecrash all the parties

    Five minutes of fun before they kick you out is definitely worth it. Don’t sleep on this tactic for your December. If you’re finding it hard to gatecrash any party, show up like this.

    …Or stay in your house

    Maybe just stay in your house and watch people ball on the internet. Or watch the World cup instead. Second-hand enjoyment isn’t such a bad thing, you know. At least, you won’t get a bill in the end.

    Bill your rich friends

    It’s your detty December, but why not have someone else pay for it so you can ball without having chest pain every five minutes? Bill your rich friends and forget your problems this month.

    Avoid family gatherings

    Your village people will come for their annual dues if you attend any huge family gatherings this December. If you must attend, don’t lose guard, for the sake of your pocket.

    Buy yourself December clothes

    You still want to look like your December is detty even though you’re taking things easy. Perception is everything, so use your drip to hide the fact that January winter is on its way. Impress people with your fresh new drip to limit the pressure to spend just to prove a point.

    Or find someone to buy them for you

    You can even rope someone into buying you clothes so you don’t have to spend anything to look suave this December. What’s sweeter than using someone else’s money to enjoy life? Absolutely nothing. Nigerian politicians would know.

    NEXT READ: It’s Not Detty December if You Don’t Do These Things

  • Maybe in the past, it was cool to pay all your bills while carrying the burden of five relatives who call you for money every time. But these days, everywhere choke. Learn to guide your pocket with these tips so you can have some breathing space.

    Don’t be black

    We hate to break it to you, but this was your first mistake. You can’t experience black tax if you aren’t black. So find a solution to that and be free.

    escape black tax with this

    Don’t be the first child

    As if it’s not enough that you’re black and are, by default, obligated to remit funds to your family every month, you just had to be the first child too. Maybe, give up your position and tell them you’re not doing again.

    Tax them first

    Don’t give anybody space to ask you for anything. Preempt it by voicing out your problems and asking them for money first. In this life, you have to be wise.

    Escape black tax with this

    Face your front, and air everybody

    Whether you ignore their messages or switch off your phone once your salary drops, you just have to do something. Else, your ₦200k will become ₦20k before the month even starts.

    Run away

    You can only ask someone you can reach for money. If this thing is getting too much, my dear, disappear.

    Escape black tax with this

    RELATED: I Don’t Enjoy Black Tax, But It’s a Necessary Investment — Man Like Ope Adetayo

    Don’t think of it as black tax

    Maybe it’s the definition that’s making it pinch your body. As they say, everything in this life is about your mindset. So you need to stop thinking of it as black tax and start seeing it as forced philanthropy. That way, you’ll feel better when you do it.

    Be ridiculously rich

    How can you think of it as philanthropy if you’re managing your last ₦10k and food prices are going up every market day? You need plenty of money so it doesn’t feel like stress anymore.

    Escape black tax with this

    Don’t talk to your extended family

    Why is it your business that the Uncle Soji you’ve only met once as a child is having a wedding, and you have to contribute money to cook Jollof rice?

    NEXT RATED: The #NairaLife of a PR Babe Who’s Proud of Black Tax

  • Interview With… is a Zikoko weekly series that explores the weird and interesting lives of inanimate objects and non-human entities.

    With Nigerians buying $1 at ₦680 in 2022, we knew it was time to bring Dollar in for questioning. Turns out Dollar is a Beyoncé fan on a quest for world domination.

    [Dollar has agreed to meet with Zikoko under terms of sworn secrecy. After three days of journeying, our blindfold is taken off and lights come on in an undisclosed location.]

    [Dollar arrives surrounded by his guards.]

    Zikoko: Was all of this really necessary?

    Dollar: When you’re big, you’re big.

    Zikoko: Can we at least get a seat? It took us days to get here. 

    [Dollar snaps his fingers and one of the guards brings a chair.]

    Zikoko: Thanks. So what’s been going on with you? The people want to know why you’ve been so scarce.

    Dollar: Beyoncé already said it. I’m way too sexy for this world.

    Zikoko: By world, do you mean just Nigeria?

    Dollar: Is that why you’re here? I thought you wanted this interview to get to know me.

    Zikoko: You’ve risen more times than Jesus Christ this year. What we want to know is, why?

    Dollar: I’ve told Nigeria that the situation with Naira is out of my control. And I’ve begged her to stop sending me emails and calling me at odd hours. I don’t appreciate her constant interruptions on my off-days.

    Zikoko: But…

    Dollar: There are powers even greater than me in this world.

    Zikoko: You mean Pounds? 

    Dollar: For my protection, I can’t name names. But I can tell you how it all started.

    Zikoko: I’m listening.

    Dollar: [clears throat] You were a child or possibly not even born when Naira and I met on a cold night in 1973. 

    Before then, Naira was almost on the same level as me because Queen Lizzie had Nigerians using pound shillings. Pounds was at the top of the world even in the 70s. And my guys didn’t really like that.

    Zikoko: Jealousy is not a good colour on you.

    Dollar: No, but power is. And Queen Lizzie got in the way of that. I was sick of her.

    Maybe I’d respect Lizzie more if she was Queen Bey. Bey gets me.

    Zikoko: Uhm… Can we stay on track?

    Dollar: I’ve been around since 1792, that’s 230 years on earth, so you better watch your tone. Where was I?

    Ah yes, Pounds.

    My beef with Lizzie wasn’t important because I had to play nice. You know what they say, in the art of war, it’s best to keep your enemies close.

    Zikoko: And the enemies here are…?

    Dollar: My memory fails me. Where was I?

    Ah yes, Lizzie my enemy.

    Zikoko: Why does it feel like Nigeria was a pawn in your sick game of world domination?

    Dollar: At least a pawn plays a game. You guys might as well have been the board. I didn’t have to lift a finger.

    Zikoko: Educate us

    Dollar: When Queen Lizzie got kicked out in 1960, Nigeria decided she was better off taking charge of her financial affairs and officially issued the naira in 1973.


    Naira was rolling with the big boys and trading at ₦1 for 10 UK Shillings and 90 Kobo to $1. But the cookie started crumbling. Without Lizzie ruling, Naira was playing a game of Russian roulette.

    Zikoko: Oshey bendownselect Wes Anderson. Look D… Can I call you D? Feels like we’re buddies now.

    Dollar: I might have bounded and gagged you before you got here, but you need to calm down. I won’t be referred to as a phallus.

    Zikoko: Cool. So D, we’re the biggest suppliers of crude oil in West Africa. That has to count for something.

    Dollar: Do you remember the parable of the 10 virgins waiting for their bridegroom? I am the five virgins that passed the test. Z!, I have reserves.

    Zikoko: Maybe we should unpack why 12 virgins were waiting for one brideg—

    Dollar: Look, you’re basically buying your oil back from countries with the infrastructure to refine it. And that means Nigeria has to buy everything with currencies like me. Word on the street is that you people are still importing toothpicks.

    Do you get the full picture? I’m not the cause of Nigeria’s problems. You people are doing yourselves.

    Zikoko: Wow. Do you have any advice for us?

    Dollar: It’s simple, really. You’re owing the world $45.2 billion, I’m owing $28.4 trillion. But how many times have you seen the world come to drag me? When you act like the best, you’ll be regarded as the best.

    Your celebrities understand this. Maybe they should lead the country.

    Zikoko: Nawa. So the price of sardine will never go down?

    Dollar: The only way is up.

    Zikoko: *Cries*

    Dollar: I’ll take my leave now. And please, no more calls for interviews except you’ve secured one with Bey and me. Or at least, recognise I’m way too sexy for this world.

    [The blindfolds come on again and all we hear is D’s footsteps storming off.]

    READ NEXT: Interview With Twitter Bird: “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings”

  • The Big Brother Naija Season 7 host, Ebuka Obi-Uchendu, tweeted a very valid question asking how people are still eating snails in this economy. And we’re here to tell you exactly how to eat snails without breaking the bank.

    Pepper is expensive, bring your own

    To enjoy the rich and moist flavours of snail, you need to pair it with pepper sauce; it’s best served hot and spicey. So bring the pepper from your house and maybe the chef will reduce the price. But I can’t say eating them raw doesn’t bang as well.

    Start catching them yourself

    If you think the price of snails is too much, you need to start catching your own. You and the chef will have a feast because who doesn’t want free snails? So the more of them you find, the merrier.

    Ask them to serve you with the shell

    You know cracking off the shell of a snail is not like breaking open an egg, right? It’s time-consuming and you’ll almost always end up with a cut from trying to get it off. I’d say the solution is for restaurants to start serving the snails with their shells on. You can’t deny that there’s some appeal to the stress of finally stripping off a hard shell.

    Quit your job and become a snail farmer

    Snails are easier to find during the rainy season, so restaurants charge that much because they’re seasonal. So what you can do is quit your job and become a snail farmer. Harvest as many as you can and start a supply chain. 

    Find a 30+ man that loves local bars and beer

    Snails are expensive because 30+ men love to order them with beer while watching football at their local bars. So to find cheap snails, I’ll advise you to start going to local bars and attach yourself to 30+ snail lovers. Avoid Manchester United fans sha, they don’t have any joy.

    RELATED: 8 Things That Taste Better When They’re Free

    Offer to help the chef clean it

    Another stressful step to prepping snails is getting rid of that sliminess. You can offer your expertise to local restaurants and offer to clean them. Preferably after they’ve at least been steamed.

    Just make more money

    Snail is not a local champion and probably deserves the hype it’s getting. In France, they’re called escargots and 6 – 12 pieces can cost between $15 – $50 (₦6k – ₦21k). So as you can see, snail is a world-class dish and not for the poor. 

    If you read this article with any other thing in mind, I’ll advise you to check yourself.

    ALSO READ: The Chopists Guide To Getting Free Food

  • Like me, you probably come across the “never dating a broke babe or guy” conversation at least once a day on social media. But I was curious about how someone who’s actually had an unemployed partner feels about that hot take. In this article, Dolapo* shares her experience. 

    She opened up about the first real relationship she had after university. Initially, it was all about looks, but the night they finally hung out, Dolapo* realised there was a lot more to his pretty face. My burning question: What kept them together, and would she do it all over again even though their relationship didn’t last?

    My Cute, Resilient and Broke Lover as Told to Ortega

    I was 21 when I got into my first official relationship. Before meeting this person, I was in university, so I’d only dated childhood friends, nothing serious. 

    We met when I was in the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) in 2016. I was working at a radio station in Abuja, and he showed up looking for a job at the time. When I saw him at the reception, my immediate thought was, “This guy is cute!” I noticed he was wearing a Catholic rosary ring, but he looked way too young to be married. Rather than stand and stare, I decided to walk up to him and ask. 

    Turned out he wasn’t married; he wore the ring because of his faith. The conversation went on with how I liked him and thought he was really cute. I wasn’t the kind of girl to shy away from being upfront, so it wasn’t awkward. 

    When he was done submitting his files, I asked my colleague for his phone number. My colleague was a presenter at the station trying to link my new crush with a job, and he didn’t think it was weird to shoot my shot if I liked him. I called that evening and invited him to my house the next day. Of course, we already had a vibe going on, so he showed up. 

    RELATED: 7 Hilarious Ways Nigerian Women Shoot Their Shots

    We shared a lot more about each other when he came over. He was only four years older than me. But that’s when he opened up about being laid over from his job at the bank nine months earlier and had been looking for a new one ever since. The 21-year-old me didn’t think it was a big deal. After all, my previous relationships were with students who were also unemployed. Maybe it would’ve made a difference if I’d dated proper adults with a job back in uni. 

    Besides, I just wanted to have fun. I didn’t think anything would last since I’d be moving back to Lagos at the end of my service year. 

    I can’t even remember at what point we officially started dating, everything happened fast. That one evening he came over turned into seeing him every day after work, and that was it. He showed up at my office a lot because he was keen on working at that particular station as a presenter. When I asked him why he wanted to move from banking to presenting, he went on about experiencing something more creative. And you don’t need to have a specific background to get into a radio station, so I didn’t dwell on it.

    Of course, he also wanted our relationship hush hush so it didn’t ruin his chances of getting in. But in the whole year, we were together, he never got the job. While we dated, I tried persuading him to try another station. But, he was bent on famzing my colleagues, hoping they’d pull one or two strings. 

    RELATED: “My Life Ended When I started NYSC” — A Week In The Life Of A Tired Youth Corps Member

    Asides from the issue of getting a job, I did enjoy spending time with him. He was nice, funny, and obviously, cute. We knew how to have fun together too. The sex was also so great I’m sure we wouldn’t have made it through an entire year of dating otherwise. A part of me loved how available he was. Working at a media company meant I had really long days except during CDS. We didn’t even observe public holidays because we always had to be on air. So, it was convenient having someone who could easily visit me. 

    His availability became an issue when working in a busy environment meant I couldn’t always take his calls or respond to a message quickly enough.  His typical day was calling me in the morning, sending texts during the day and showing up at my house between 6 p.m. and 9 p.m., depending on how long I’m at the office. Trying to match that energy all the time got tiring after a few months. Yet, I needed the company because I didn’t have a lot of friends in Abuja.

    We never celebrated milestones in our relationship. Six months went by without any date out or gifts, and so did our first anniversary. But the major issue was depending on my NYSC allowance to buy food for both of us anytime he came over. I never brought it up though. I understood he relied on his savings from his bank job and allowance from his older brother. 

    There was never anyone to think through the situation with. I didn’t see the need to share it with my old friends. It was just him and I in our little bubble. And that worked for me at 21. I didn’t need much more than the comfort of having someone to talk to, laugh and enjoy intimacy with after a long day. That’s why everything needed to end when it was time to move back to Lagos. 

    NYSC was over. The carefree life in Abuja needed to come to an end. There was no way a long-distance relationship could work because what was going for us was the physical presence; his fine face was my first attraction and the sex was what kept us together. Without the ability to see each other at every whim, there wasn’t much left.

    RELATED: How to Survive a Long Distance Relationship as a Nigerian Man

    I geared myself to break up with him, but he beat me to it. I guess he knew the end was inevitable. I was glad he took that responsibility away from me, but I was sad, really sad. The last time I heard from him, he’d finally gotten a job. But it was with one of the shitty radio stations in Abuja. He actually moved to Lagos this year, so we jam sometimes. But our conversations never go beyond a “hello” or “hi”.

    Nothing about the year I spent dating him makes me feel like I can ever date an unemployed guy. I’ve never relied on anyone for anything, but I’d still want my partner to actively look out for jobs or at least start a business. That was something he never did at the time. He was stuck on one thing, and that’s not how life works.

    Heck, the guy I started dating a year after our breakup, currently doesn’t have a job because he’s relocating soon and had to resign. That’s the kind of unemployed love that eventually works out. We’re both pulling our weight for a better future, so the momentary delay doesn’t matter.

    ALSO READ: 6 Women on the Burden of Being Breadwinners in Their Families

  • When it comes to owambes, Lagos takes the cake with planning things out. But how much does it cost to put together a wedding that actually bangs? In this article, five Nigerian women broke things down. 

    Adeola* , 30, wedded in Ikeja

    April 2022 was when I got married and I planned most of it with my mum. We only hired a planner to handle coordination on the wedding day. The initial budget was ₦20 million and my parents were meant to cover most of the bill because it was a cultural thing. I’m Yoruba while my husband is Igbo. Traditionally, in Yoruba land, the bride’s family is the host. But in modern-day weddings like mine, the groom’s family contributes financially too. 

    Beyond the culture factor, my husband’s family had less than 100 out of the 500 guests we targeted. I had a larger family based in Lagos and coming in from Kwara state too, so we had to cover those expenses. The 500 people were even a gamble because I was the last child getting married. With my older siblings, we ended up with over 1000 guests. It was hard to be strict with such a large attendee list. And Nigerians no dey RSVP invitations; trust me, I tried. 

    Anyway, as a caterer, I was able to cut back our ₦20m budget to ₦15m. It may not sound like a huge difference, but trust me, putting ₦5m back in the bank when you’re getting married is a huge feat. The ₦15m covered both the engagement party and wedding. 

    RELATED: A First-Timers Guide to Attending Nigerian Weddings

    Wedding planner

    The most prominent wedding planners in the game were charging us between ₦1m – ₦2.5m. The not-so-big ones went for ₦500k. But I ended up getting a friend to help out and she took ₦250k for coordinating the wedding day. 

    Dress and makeup

    My wedding dress and other outfits were the same approach. One dress from any big brand was going for ₦1m – ₦1.5m and upwards. Initially, I was willing to rent a dress at ₦200 – ₦300k, but I ended up finding an upcoming designer willing who made a custom piece for a little over that range. The engagement outfit was the same price, and I kept my accessories under ₦50k.

    My husband didn’t also stress. He used an upcoming designer as well and paid ₦60,000 for the suit. He had a shirt he wanted to wear already, but the tie, pocket square and boutonnière all cost ₦11,500 while his shoes cost about ₦20,000.

    We all know bridal makeup and gele are expensive. And for the engagement and wedding, I’d be paying ₦1m upward if I used a premium service. But my friend recommended someone who was doing a promo package at the time and paid  ₦140k for everything.

    Food

    The catering would have been our biggest cost. As a caterer myself, if I was to charge for feeding 500 guests, their bill would look like this:

    And I’d still add a 15% service and transportation charge. All for a service that isn’t premium — no fancy seafood, continental dishes, fancy dorime services or displays. But we only spent half of that amount (₦1.6m)for the engagement and wedding because we catered the event ourselves.

    Venue and decorations

    With all the basics settled, the venue was the next challenge to face. We were planning to get a place on Victoria Island, but when the best deal we found was ₦2.5 m, the reality of inflation dawned on me. And the venues that cost less on the island weren’t good at all. So we kuku went to face the mainland. 

    In Surulere, there were only two options that could house 500 guests. One was already booked for our date while the other was under renovation. Eventually, we found a decent wedding hall in Ikeja for ₦1.5m Luckily, we got a ₦200k discount An engagement venue close by cost another ₦300k. There were cheaper options for ₦100k – ₦200k but each had one issue or the other — there were either no taps, air conditioners or security. 

    The rest of the money went into items like videography, photography, catering to logistics and accommodation. But cutting costs made it possible to splurge on a few things other things, fresh flowers for my bouquet. 

    Faux flowers cost ₦5k in the market. Custom-made faux flowers cost about ₦15k – ₦20k while fresh flowers cost ₦60k – ₦100k or more — roses and tulips are the most expensive. But I paid a florist ₦40k for mine.

    Halima*, 28, wedded in Surulere

    I got married in March 2022. I had my Nikkah ( the religious ceremony for Muslims) and reception at Surulere on the same day. 

    During Yoruba weddings, the lady’s family does the planning for the wedding, but the groom and bride cook separately. I’m not sure how much my husband spent, but the budget on my side was a little over ₦2m. 

    For a start, finding an affordable venue was difficult. And planning everything while I was five months pregnant didn’t make it any easier. After checking through Island locations to fit 1000 people and ending up with quotes from ₦1.6m upwards, we settled on getting an open space in Surulere. It cost us ₦600k with the tables,  and decorations and chairs cost me another ₦800k.

    In between searching for the venue, my husband and I designed our wedding bands — were customised gold rings with our names on them for ₦220k.  We had these done at Ojuelegba.

    The night before the wedding, family members showed up at the house. So we had to plan for food. About 20 guests showed up and we had to buy a carton of turkey and fish, half a bag of semo and 10 cups of rice. I can’t remember exactly how much we paid for food, but the most expensive thing was the two cows that cost us ₦750k.

    RELATED: These Guys Tried to Kill a Cow and the Most Hilarious Thing Happened

    As for my dress and make-up, I made sure to keep it simple. The white material for my wedding dress was ₦25k while sewing it cost ₦18k. My aso oke was a bit more expensive because it was an express order. The material cost ₦35k and we spent ₦24k for sewing. 

    My accessories cost ₦60k. And my nails and makeup were ₦73k. Logistics, accommodation for our family coming outside of Lagos and my hotel room were handled by my husband.

    Amaka*, 28, wedded in Yaba

    We planned for something very small because the wedding happened during the pandemic. Beyond the limit the government put on gatherings, we always wanted something quiet.

    Our court, traditional and white wedding cost about ₦2m in total. The majority of the money went into the transportation to my village in Imo State. My husband’s people had to come down from Lagos. Hotel accommodation and transport alone cost us ₦600k. 

    Igbo people also organise something called Igba Nkwu, a traditional ceremony where the groom performs rites for the bride’s kinsmen. There was a whole list with wine, foodstuff and money requests to cover. They cost about ₦350k.

    The rest of the money went into my wedding dress, food and picking a small hall around Yaba. As a Deeper Life church member, I didn’t need to think about earrings, hair or makeup. Styling my natural hair myself worked fine.

    Ronke*, 26, wedded in Gbagada

    If you don’t have money, your wedding will stress you. Mine was relatively pricey because inflation just makes everything go up by the week these days. The exchange rate was epileptic this year [2022] so planning for 450-500 guests cost a lot. Feeding alone was more than ₦1m. Then the hall was at Gbagada and was to cost ₦1.2m – ₦1.5m on weekends. But I had my wedding on a weekday and paid ₦750k instead. There was really no way to avoid spending that much money on food and venue.

    The next thing that took quite a bit of money was travelling to Akwa-Ibom. Since my father had a house in my village, the cost was on my husband to cover his family’s bus fare and hotel. That alone cost ₦500k. 

    I also wanted to have a lot of memories from the experience, so I really went all out on my media team. I paid about ₦500k to cover the events across cities. It was expensive but worth it for me.

    My most questionable expense was the MC service. He charged ₦250k and I’m sure we could’ve gotten someone for ₦100k for the kind of forgettable experience he provided. That money could have been spent on a wedding coordinator instead, but we move.

    Another thing that takes money is designing the wedding programs for the church wedding, but I did it myself in Canva. Most people just end up leaving it in church anyway. I can’t remember how much it costs to print them, but it was way cheaper since I did it myself.

    Everything eventually came down to ₦6m for other expenses like my dresses and accessories, the live band, drinks, cake and a bunch of other things I can’t remember. Honestly, even if you have a budget, add ₦1m to everything on the list to be safe, and ask yourself what the intention of every item l on your list is. If it’s to show off, remember that everybody will go home, last last.

    Dolapo*, 24, wedded in Isheri

    I got married in April 2022. My husband’s family took most of the financial responsibility, but my husband made sure there was a spreadsheet documenting everything.

    The hall and decorations were the most expensive. We went as far as Isheri, but we still paid ₦1,660,000. The photographer my father-in-law decided to hire was also quite expensive. I didn’t understand why we needed to pay ₦750k. I tried to push back but he decided to fund it. He also hired a live band for ₦700k. I had to give up and let the man spend his money at that point.

    We had about 700 guests, so the food was around ₦2m. There was lots of amala going around, a whole ram grilled in front of the church and lots of drinks. The small chops and non-alcoholic drinks came down to ₦224,700; our wedding cake was ₦100k. 

    The food, venue and media coverage took the most money. I got my wedding gown for free and fixed the weave my sister gifted me for ₦4k.

    Planning my wedding showed me that everyone needs good friends and family for support. It’s been three months since our wedding and we’re still getting gifts from people. It’s the most thoughtful thing.

    Now that we’ve gotten the money talk out of the way, also read: 10 Things to Be Prepared for When Planning a Wedding in Nigeria

  • Ever heard of sapa? Well, it’s that evil spirit that has made so many people resort to desperate — and sometimes, downright hilarious — attempts to get their daily urgent ₦2k to put food on the table.

    I spoke to some people and they shared the most desperate things they’ve done for money.

    “I spent the night in a dark classroom”

    — Tola*, 29

    This was during the 2011 Nigerian elections and I desperately wanted to be a part of the INEC ad-hoc staff. I’d applied but didn’t get selected. I got the bright idea to go spend the night in the school where INEC personnel would be taking off from, just in case somebody didn’t show up so I could replace them.

    I met some other people there as well, and it was a long, cold night. Eventually, some of the selected staff didn’t show up in the morning and I took someone’s place.  They paid me only ₦13k after everything — they even delayed payments by over two weeks.

    I’ve also done ushering service jobs where I’d get paid ₦1k for a whole day, after leaving home at 5 a.m. and returning at 10 p.m. I did this between 2008 and 2011. Sure, I got to eat at the events, but it was horrible — all the insults and stress were just ridiculous. I can never do either of these two “jobs” ever again.

    “I commuted from Ikorodu to Owode-Onirin every day for ₦500 daily”

    — Wendy, 25

    In 2013, I was trying to save up for JAMB, so my neighbour introduced me to a food canteen in Owode-Onirin where they paid ₦500 per day. I’d go there as early as 5 a.m. and try to convince the iron rod sellers near the canteen to buy a plate of food from me. Each plate was about ₦300, and I needed to sell at least 20 plates, retrieve them, wash them and sweep the store by 6 p.m. to get my ₦500 for that day.

    I didn’t get paid in full somedays because madam could just complain that I wasn’t smiling or that I didn’t attend to a customer “well”. My transport fare to and from the canteen was about ₦200, and sometimes I only made a profit of ₦200 after everything.

    I didn’t last up to two weeks there because one of the male sellers slapped my bum one day, and I hit him back in the face. Nonsense.

    “I de-feathered chickens on the road for about ₦200”

    — Charles*, 24

    This was during the Christmas holidays in 2016, and of course, there were chicken sellers everywhere. All you had to do was walk up to a seller, select a chicken, and you could decide to have it killed, de-feathered and cut up for you for a price by the seller’s assistant.

    My friends and I were broke so we decided to try this assistant business out. We suffered. We burnt our hands from the hot water we had to use to de-feather the chickens, and the hot sun beat down on us for hours. The angry and impatient customers yelling at us didn’t help matters. And for what? Payment of less than ₦200 per processed chicken? God abeg.

    Less than a week later, my mum eventually had to ban me from going back when I started looking pale. Fun times.

    “I worked at a construction site”

    — Onyeka*, 45

    This was when I was a broke student at LASU. I think we were on strike, but my roommates and I couldn’t travel home because we didn’t have any money. For days, we depended on soaking garri until one day, I noticed another roommate eating rice.

    Of course, we were all shocked and asked where he got the money. He was reluctant but later told us that he’d show us only if we promised we’d be able to do it. Broke men like us? We had no choice.

    The next day, he took us to a construction site he found, and the site manager graciously hired us. We had to carry cement and sand all day for ₦500. When we got back to the hostel, I seriously thought I was going to die. My body ached like I had been passed through a grinder.

    Ibuprofen came to the rescue sha and we kept going back until ASUU called off the strike. 

    RELATED: Five Things That Happen to Every Nigerian Student When They Are Broke in School

    “I sold my mum’s jewellery”

    — Tobi*, 33

    I’m not proud of this, but I once had to sell my mum’s gold necklace without her knowledge to settle a debt.

    I was in my third year of university, and things were hard at home. I was on the verge of missing out on my exams due to unpaid fees — about ₦30k. I had to borrow money. Not long after, the person I borrowed from started pressuring me to pay back. I kept posting him till he sent cultists to threaten me — apparently, his cousin was a cultist.

    I knew my mum would never sell the necklace because it was a gift from my late dad, but my life was at stake. I think she knows I took it, but she never questioned me.

    ALSO READ: Ten Vital Organs & Fluids You Can Sell to Escape Sapa

    “I wrote exams for people”

    — Dele*, 27

    For about three years, I made a lot of money writing exams for people,  including WAEC and polytechnic exams. It was very risky, and also involved heavily “sorting” invigilators, but it paid well.

    I wouldn’t do it again, though — I have a proper job now, and I don’t think it’s as easy to impersonate students now, compared to 2009-2011. I also can no longer afford to risk getting jailed.

    * Some names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.

    NEXT READ: Eight Sure-fire Ways to Land Your Dream Job

  • Is love really enough or is it all about money? How do you receive either when you had a broken childhood? These are the questions *Kate answered as she shared her story about loving an unfaithful partner she hoped would live up to her expectations of money. But when she finally decided to leave, Kate confronted the reality that a rich lover may not be the key to her happiness.

    Here’s Kate’s story as told to Ortega

    I was so sure I’d leave the moment I found out he cheated. Plagued by the cruel stories my aunties told me about what my mother experienced at the hands of an unfaithful and abusive man, I was sure I’d pack my bags. But there I was, convinced I could “fix things”.

    It all started four months after he’d lost his dad in 2014. I was 18, so I didn’t have the balls to convince my Nigerian mother I needed to travel to my lover’s hometown. I tried to be there for him, but when you’re in different cities, it’s hard to love a grieving partner. I was convinced I was doing a good job though. On the days he couldn’t bear to talk on the phone, I made sure I left a text. I was stuck at home until school resumed. But I tried to push past the distance.

    RELATED: 7 Romantic Ideas For People In Long-Distance Relationships

    When I returned to school, I wanted to give my all to make sure he was okay. Being in the same faculty made it easier. We went to lunch every day, and we walked back home together almost every day. Heck, I was doing assignments for him when I had the chance. But little did I know that grief led him back to his ex during his father’s burial.

    And the worst part? I found out just like the cliché tales you’ve probably heard — the paranoid girlfriend snooping through her boyfriend’s phone. Only this time, I wasn’t “paranoid”. It was completely random. I can’t explain what happened, but I felt the urge to search for his ex-girlfriend’s name on WhatsApp. For the first time in nine months of dating, I questioned his trust. And I found exactly what would break my heart.

    RELATED: 11 Nigerians Share Their Worst Relationship Break-Up Stories

    What came after was, of course, a series of apologies. But while my head was telling me to gather my pride and move on, my heart was fixated on the fact that I’d given nine months of myself, investing in the potential of this guy who could build a financially secure future for the both of us — like I also intended to do l. And although we were just in our third year of school, I believed I was supposed to build the man I wanted. A man who was very different from my father.

    He was kind and sweet, and he also had an idea of what it meant to own a business. I was hoping that the ideas would flourish as time went by. But then, he just seemed to have an idea every other month without any solid plan as to how he’d make a profit. When he made money, he gave it out at the slightest inconvenience any of his friends had. It’s either they needed money for food or to fix a phone. And while that was something I adored, it was something I’d seen my father do too often. To my father, every other person’s needs were always more important than mine.

    But I felt obligated to stay. I wanted to help him think through business plans, manage the earnings from sales and find freelance jobs on the side — I felt it was my job to fix everything.

    I believed I needed to go through a phase of financial struggle with him to truly earn his love. I’d seen it in the movies I watched and heard friends talk about the suffering they went through to get to a point of enjoyment with their lovers. Plus, he was the first person I’d ever opened up to about my family and he was there for me whenever I needed to talk. I felt the least I could do was be with him.

    I also didn’t understand that becoming rich as a couple wasn’t equivalent to how long we’d financially struggled together. And I believed karma would catch up with me for wanting anything materialistic out of love. So I stayed.

    We were together for another six months and to the best of my knowledge, he was faithful during that period. But everything in the relationship became utterly irritating. The lack of spontaneity dimmed my ability to really enjoy the relationship.

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    At first, I thought it was some kind of residual anger from finding out about the steamy make-out sessions with his ex. But then I kissed someone else and told him about it, and we were still both inclined to fight for our relationship. Maybe it was love? Or fear? I summed it up to the lack of passion and his inability to take charge of planning out any of our activities.

    While my friends were going out on cute dates, I spent the entire relationship splitting bills. I love the “Independent woman” title, and I had money from side jobs to take us out. But it gets old when you expect your broke lover to step up after betraying your trust. The apologies and sweet texts were cute, but I wanted a lot more. I mean, imagine two years of dating and not a single dinner date? Not even for our anniversary.

    At some point, I voiced my concerns, but then, I became an “inconsiderate” lover. Still, I was too scared to call it quits because I didn’t want to lose out on when his potential really came through. I didn’t want to end up with regrets about what could’ve been. So I waited.

    Another year went by, and he started to earn money to buy gifts and take us to places, but everything was repetitive. Call me insatiable if you will. But after almost two years together, I expected my lover to know me like the back of his palm. Because I knew him that well. Why didn’t he know I hated getting slippers as a gift because of my enormous duck-shaped feet? Why didn’t he know the place that served my favourite type of fish? Why did I have to repeat how bored I’d grown of having dates at the cinema? The relationship was a boring cycle.

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    I truly believed he loved me. But after university, love wasn’t cutting it anymore. So I decided it was time to break up right before I had to go for my NYSC in 2018. Finding out he was still casually talking to his ex also triggered my decision. He admitted he only kept this from me out of fear, but I was done.

    I couldn’t see myself dating anybody’s son who’s just starting out in life. I wanted someone who had life a lot more figured out financially. But when I got into another relationship the following year, it was hard. He had the money to sort out a lot more things, but I didn’t know how to accept his acts of kindness. To me, I had to go through some kind of suffering with him to really be entitled to the money. I was so sure true love only came from trying to fix each other. So, we fought a lot.

    Since money wasn’t his problem, I wanted to amplify his faults. If he blinked the wrong way, I was going to blow it out of proportion. If we weren’t arguing over the most irrelevant issues, I was making a fuss about him buying me things. But when I complained about something, he’d fix it. If I was too sick, he’d take time off to take care of me. When you spend the better part of your childhood in a broken home, how do you receive love without being suspicious? Especially when it’s the one thing you’ve craved all your life.

    It’s been nine months since my new relationship started in 2019. And it’s the first relationship in which I’m trying to experience love without feeling like I need to work for it. Like, I don’t need to do anything to receive from my partner. All I saw my mum do was give to my dad. Yet, there was never a moment he doted on her. I imagined it needed to be the same for me.

    As I’ve gotten older, I’ve seen that there’s much more to love than what I saw growing up, t. That there’s no karma for choosing to leave or stay with a partner who’s still building their life. If it feels right to walk away, I will. And while I’m growing to believe in love, I’m also starting to take as much as I’m willing to give because I deserve it.

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