Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
5:03 AM
It’s Sunday. The first Sunday on camp, and as soon as I wake up, I know that I’m going to drown myself in a river of sleep. Activities such as morning parade, devotion and meditation, are not going to take place today. I cannot be more glad. We are free to dress as we like until 12 when we are to return to our whites
Fellowship hour is 7:30 till about 11 am. I spend those hours doing laundry, cleaning my side of the bunk and rearranging my things. I do not go for breakfast.
1:01 PM
I visit the staff canteen for breakfast which has of course become lunch. I settle for bread, fried eggs and tea. Lunch comes not long after; Jollof (concotion, really) and chicken, can you believe it? I’m partly full when it arrives, so I eat only half of it before I get tired. I spend the hour arguing about what university is the best while telling myself I should get up and do something better with my life.
3:45 PM
We are back on the parade ground. This begins my show of shame. We are asked to march, but I keep messing up the commands, keep forgetting how to halt. I swear, it’s the chicken they gave me. I know that I am not entirely useless. I know it deep down within me. So you can imagine my deep hurt when the soldier drags me out and casts me on the rubbish heap with the rejects who cannot march. Later, he says we should go to the field and clap for the footballers. Just imagine.
My God will judge you, Mr. Soldier. MY GOD WILL JUDGE YOU.
6:10 PM
The bugle has just been blown; Nigeria has been laid to rest, no pun intended. I am supposed to join the other rejects in their clapping and cheering duties, but God forbid. A whole me, clapping and prancing like something inside hot oil? Again, God forbid. I spend the rest of my time filling in my redeployment/relocation form.
A brief information about the relocation form: it is the form that facilitates your relocation to another state. The form was given to us and is to be submitted today, with a handwritten letter requesting relocation to xxx state on security grounds. In the form, you fill in your name, course of study, call up number, state code, reason for relocation, and the state you’re relocating to. I’m relocating to Canada, just in case you want to know.
7:03 PM
Did I tell you I signed up for OBS and got in? If I didn’t, then I did. And tonight is our first meeting. I am assigned to the programs department, for current affairs. We are drilled: be punctual, think of how to generate income, drive people’s attention, make them listen to you. We are reminded that we have only two weeks to shake things up, and we better make the most of it. By the time we are done, dinner is over. It’s yam pottage and fried fish. I like pottage, but sadly, I missed it. I end up scooping powder milk into my mouth for dinner. Didn’t they say eat dinner like a beggar?
10:15
There is another social night again. And like you must have guessed, it is another show of shame. It’s like a children’s birthday party, a primary school’s end of the year party, only with people twerking and bored people loitering around and trying to make connections. Sunday has been a slow day anyway, why not have the party? But rather than speed up things, it only drags the day even further. Drags it terribly. It’s a shame that we are forced to attend it.
In all honesty, this NYSC is starting to tire me. I hope my time at OBS will bring fun. I really do.
Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
5:40 AM
It is Friday, and now, all our activities have started to become routine. Wake up, make a dash to the tap for water, go to the bathroom, dress up, head to the parade ground for devotion and morning drills.But now there is more, and it’s because we have been sworn in.
Now, Nigeria has her own sleeping and waking hours, our dear country whose citizens work tirelessly. We are told that every day, whenever the bugle goes off at 6:00am, we are to stand still. When the same repeats itself at 6:00pm, we are to stop and stand still. I want to ask, “But what if I’m in the middle of dying?”(I will not die in Jesus name *eyeroll*) Orisirisi has started to happen in camp, but I don’t even know it yet.
8:00 AM
One of the orisirisi that is happening is the fact that we have now been left to ourselves. Not in a completely independent way though, we have soldiers who act as our platoon leaders. I am in Platoon two, and you won’t believe all the drama my eyes have seen.
But wait first, let me tell you about one orisirisi: lectures. Yes, being bonafide members means that we will be “killed”with lectures. The first one is something on security and protection of lives and property, how to safeguard yourself from attack, how to help corps members develop adequate sense of security. It is an interesting lecture, if I will be honest, but I really just want to sleep.
We head to the parade ground for the drills. Now that we do things according to platoons, it is a little more informal, not the kuku kill me drills that will have you questioning if you’re receiving punishments for sins your ancestors committed.
Being left alone means that everything is now a competition. Everything. And every eye is on the lookout for the platoon that will emerge as the best. You know Nigerians na, everyone is now attempting to outdo themselves.
A brief gist about my own platoon: a guy was voted in as the head. A lady wanted it first; she is the one who has been in charge of everything platoon related including creating a WhatsApp group, handing out kits to people, etc. Long and short of it, a lot of us already saw her as platoon head.
Only for soldier to say that we’d have to select/vote in our leader. When lady came out, soldier said no, that a lady cannot be the head. Because why? Because she is a lady, and ladies are the ones who faint the most since they cannot handle the pressure and heat of the sun.
My people, na so kasala burst o.
Okay, maybe not exactly sha, but we dragged it for long. Asked soldier if there was a rule stating that a lady cannot be head and must be assistant alone. Soldier said no. Then why can’t we vote her in? No cogent reason. When it was time to vote, our lady had four votes. The guy had over twenty five.
Only ladies faint, only ladies faint, but today during evening drill, about five guys fainted. A number of these guys faked it, but doesn’t that tell you something?
Breakfast was bread and tea (as usual) and a boiled egg. I keep my egg for lunch, and pay N50 to have an egg fried. I add Milo and Peak powder milk to my tea, and each time I sip it, I remember that it is only one life I have and that I must chop it properly. Na Borno dem post me to, no be kill I kill person.
12:45 PM
Another lecture. This is how we don enter am. We gather at the parade ground, under the pavilion. It is hot, cramped. This lecture is one we are delighted to hear. It is about how to redeploy. Just imagine the joy that erupted from us when the man began to speak. In a way, I feel for those officials. I imagine them thinking, “Look at these ingrates. We feed you, accommodate you, and this is how you repay us? Corpses are scum!” But duh. It will take only God to keep some people from not relocating out of this place.
He informs us that being posted to a state is called DEPLOYMENT, and changing that state to another is REDEOLOYMENT. There are two major reasons for re-deployment: Health and Marriage. For health reasons, he mentions that some ailments are manageable, meaning that you’ll probably not get redeployed based on those ailments: headache (and let’s be honest sef, who’d claim headache as a reason for redeployment? Is that headache a Chinese one?); asthma (can’t remember if he mentions this as manageable, sha). The ailments they consider are those in the category of HIV/AIDS (he says and I quote, “Some of you have HIV, but you don’t know it yet.”), Tuberculosis, etc etc. And don’t think about faking it, because their own doctors will test you too.
For marriage, you need to provide a marriage certificate, newspaper publication declaring change of name, handwritten statement (I think), and a photocopy of your husband’s driver’s license or the biodata page of his international passport. Also, he says that men do not get to redeploy on basis of marriage (Eskiss me sah, but what if I am a househusband married to a sugar mummy?)
And then, to the part we have been waiting for the most: redeployment on basis of insecurity. At this, we hoot again, we ungrateful humans. He warns us though: we should not think of working the posting to Lagos or Abuja, because the people at these places say that they already have enough. Even Port Harcourt. We should not think of paying anybody, because we will be redeployed by a person from Abuja who does not know us at all. And we should not think that we can redeploy to our state of origin or the state we schooled in. No way. Also, redeployment means that we automatically get disqualified from carrying out a personal project for whatever state we are redeployed to.
Sad, but then do a lot of people care about anything else except leaving this camp?
Other lectures come in: about the culture of the Borno people, things like marriage, etc. But I zone out some minutes after the speaker says that some people will find love in NYSC camp, that some people will fall in love with officials (which I took to mean soldiers).
1:43 PM
I head back to the hostel. Muslims are preparing for Jumat which means extra sleep hours for me. In my hostel, the boys are in a heated discussion: Tacha was an Instagram olosho before Big Brother Naija. Look at the stretch marks on her body. The fact that she, an “Instagram olosho”made it to Big Brother Naija is why many ladies are also olosho today.
Jesus be the shield, abeg. Be the fence, be the covering and the umbrella. Me I cannot handle this type of thing. E big pass me.
Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
2:41 AM
Strange things are happening, good things are happening.
A flurry of movement wakes me. Today is the swearing in. I tap O., but he does not stir. I go alone to fetch my bath water. When I return, I go to bed again, but it’s hard to sleep. I drift in and out until I finally stand up some minutes before 5 am.
And then it begins.
A voice in the room says he has something to tell us. He says we should hear him out. Everyone is busy with preparation, but ears are cocked. And the voice gives his message: we should pray. Muslims in the room should please not take offence.
He is from NCCF, he says, and I think, “Wait, are NCCF people now in our room?”
NCCF is Nigerian Christian Corpers Fellow by the way.
He begins with a song of worship. We sing, cold mouths opening up heavily, slowly. He persists. Tells us to shout Halleluyah. Prayer is important, do we know? Giving thanks to God. We have not had any case of theft, shouldn’t we give thanks?
In the middle of this, I head to the bathroom so I can get a spot before it becomes crowded. I am wrong. In the end, I take my bath in a doorless bathroom, so much for keeping myself.
7:57 AM
Parade begins about this time. This is after morning devotion where brethren from fellowship bodies remind us of our duties to God, after the morning mediation titled Obedience. Parade today is a little humorous, never mind that today is the swearing in, that monumental event that will transition us from prospective corps members to bonafide corps members. Humorous, in that the new intakes keep messing up the commands, being unused to the actions accompanying them.
“Stand attention!” and some people still have their hands by their sides rather than the back.
We are warned: this event will have dignitaries in attendance, we better not misbehave. Our conduct will determine the overall tone of the camp experience, either good or bad.
We are told how to dress: in our khakis, jungle boots, crested vest, everything, sans the jacket. No water bottles, no sunglasses, no waist pouches. Come the way you are.
We go over the commands again, march of the flag parade, signing of the oath form, salute of the officials.
Hours later, we are dismissed for breakfast, and told to go prepare ahead for the swearing in.
10:55 AM
We are back on the parade ground for the official swearing in. We are all clad in khakis. My khaki smells like engine oil, but I am afraid to speak out. Finally I do, and B. confirms it. It’s the printing ink.
Let’s be honest, some people deserve tiri gbosas. The sun is hot enough, but some ladies are in full make-up and faux eyelashes. I’m pretty sure that by the end of the parade, such an affair will end in tears. All that makeup, all that sun. One thing must give way for another.
The parade is as you might expect: hot sun cooking us all, dignitaries ably represented by someone else. But there is more: people are fainting. It is expected, but it quickly goes beyond the expected and soon, Red Cross officials begin to dart across the camp to pick up people. It is a believable fainting, yet also so highly staged. At least that one I am sure of. A guy in the queue next to mine is tapping his knee and laughing, laughing, laughing. Two minutes later, Bros is on the ground yelling muscle pull.
One of the members of the flag party faints on her way to sign the oath form with the Chief Judge. Entertainment is suspended because of the extreme weather. We become rowdy, mimic the Chief Judge’s pronunciations as we recite the oath after him. We are carefree, and there is hardly anything the soldiers can do to us but look on in horror.
11:46 AM
I return to bed to get some sleep. I am extremely exhausted. Since I got here, I sometimes catch my dozing on the parade grond. I fall into bed with relief and it welcomes me home.
2:50 PM
I slowly return to my default settings after sleep loosens me up. For a few minutes, I stare at people like I’m not sure what I am doing amongst these people. F. keeps asking if I’m alright.
Lunch is Jollof rice and boiled beef. The Jollof tastes like premature Jollof: concoction. And I think it still needs a tiny pinch of salt, but it tastes nice. And I devour it with gratitude.
4:15 PM
This may or may not be the beginning of good things, but I don’t know it yet.
We return to the parade ground where we are told that we are to abide strictly to the rules, now that we are bonafide corps members. The camp commandant addresses us. “A lady was caught wearing bum shorts to Mammy Market yesterday night, where do you think you are?! If we get hold of you, you will be dealt with severely. Discipline is needed!”
In other words, we must always be dressed in whites. Rubber slippers will be confiscated. Phones must be silenced or switched off on the parade ground or it will be seized and returned when the camp ends. Do not smoke elsewhere but the smoking corner at Mammy market. Ladies, do not carry hairstyles that will be too much for you to handle. Do not wear shades unless they are recommended, and you must provide a paper to this end.
Me attempting not to zone out:
B. is a fellow platoon member, but so far, we have a connection. I know what you are thinking, but I have not found love yet. B. has a positive energy, one I really like. Since we line up according to platoons, I often find myself before or behind her. And we often talk about random things. But this evening, we roll different. I tell her about the
“Is Ashimolowo a bad bitch?”tweet I found once on Twitter, and that provokes a bout of laughter. Soon, everyone is a bad bitch. The soldier with his new fancy hat. Me when I decide to talk in defiance of orders. A fellow corps member in sunshades. Bad bitches everywhere.
But the most interesting part comes when a fellow platoon member is being bullied and called Bob (meaning Bobrisky) in a condescending manner. I know how this feels, and this manner of toxicity irks us to no end. We decide to fight for him/talk to him at the end of everything.
His name is G., and contrary to what we think, he is actually tough and able to defend himself. From him, I learn (again) that not obviously reacting to whatever people do to you will show them that you’re not bothered. It is different from taking offence which will show them that they are definitely hitting home with you.
And believe me, G. is full of life, full of light. He is the life of the party. And I like this kind of energy instantly. The field empties and we’re all still talking, happy, getting to know eachother. B, the girl I may or may not have a crush on wants me to meet her friend O. who is also my friend and bunk person. O. introduces us to R., and we introduce him to G. The atmosphere is full of all round love and we’re all kumbaya-ing when I realise that someone, we’re all connected and NYSC is the thing that brings that connection to life.
I remember that B. finished from Babcock. G., from Kwara State University. Me, from University of Ilorin. And I realise how true it is that NYSC is a place to meet different people from different schools and different worlds.
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.
The subject in this story had his started out in lab coats as a Health Sciences student, but now he seems to have a keen interest in Data Sciences. One thing stays consistent though, his love for enjoyment.
Tell me about the first work you did for money.
JSS 2. Technical drawing class. I used to charge people because they didn’t know how to use compasses. My classmates would go out on break, and I’d make ₦1200 for 6 technical drawings. Then I’d buy ₦100 rice and uncountable meat. Add Tampico.
Hahaha.
Ah, I still sabi book that year o. This was 2006 – I was 11. But the very first hard work I did for money was about a year later. I was on holiday at my uncle’s house, and he wanted to fix his gutters. So he asked my sibling and I if we wanted to make money and we were like yeaah yeah!
Ginger!
That’s how we started carrying cement and mixing. And after all the work, he gave us money, I looked at it and asked, “What is this?”
How much?
₦500. My uncle gave me ₦500 to carry cement for 6 hours in the sun. Inside life. Maybe that’s when I knew I had to stay in school and not become a bricklayer. I didn’t do any work till I entered 200-level. Someone reached out for a job in a startup.
Tell me about that.
They wanted me to write product descriptions for listings on their website. The goal was to write 10 per day, at ₦100 per description. I did 10 on weekdays, which summed up to ₦20k a month.
But I also had school to worry about – tight deadlines, long reading nights, making class attendance so I could write exams.
I started chasing money, and school work suffered. The problem was that I was not even making my ₦20k per month, more like ₦18k, ₦15k,₦10k. It got tiring. Really nice people, but the job was monotonous. I think I was just excited that someone was paying me to write.
I get you.
Then the “500 words for ₦10k” jobs started coming. The company managing the product website upgraded my deal. They starting paying ₦40k per month.
See, my friends thought of me as the rich kid o.
Why?
Because whenever my ₦40k landed, ground dey full. You would see me shopping for provisions. See, I had this idea:
“When you have money, chop it before you die, make next of kin no chop am.” The money also made me confident to borrow. One time, my phone broke, and I needed money, because that was what I was writing with. I asked my sibling for money – and got a ₦60k loan.
“Are you sure you’ll return it?” I was like relaxxxx, I’ll pay back. I did.
How did your sibling have money? Work?
Scholarships. That one faced books squarely. Anyway, I was living fast! I didn’t go home frequently, and my dad was like, if you don’t come back home, I’m not going to give you allowance!
In my head, I was like, who do you think you’re talking to?
Hahaha, what?
At this time sef, he had already cut our allowance to ₦20k per month from ₦42k. At some point, he read me a proper Riot Act, then sent me money. I think he was suspecting that I’d started earning.
When my dad slashed my allowance, I had to double up on looking for money. You know when they say people go to school and lose their way.
Yeah?
Na me them dey talk about bro. To make it harder for me, my sibling was best in class. My dad wasn’t checking our G.P.A and all that. His own was, “Once your 5 years is over, I’ll stop giving you money.”
Anyway, in 400-level, I had to be serious so I could graduate – all books, no work. I had to survive on my allowance. I cut out all my excesses. I used to dry clean my shirts, but I had to start handwashing.
My dry cleaner would be like, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Don’t see me please.
When people saw my results, they were like woooow, so you sabi book? Soft.
I knew that my dad would make my life miserable if I had an extra year. I had already collected ₦100k from him for project, and he had told me that was the last money he was giving me. Recession had started to affect his businesses so the guy was austere.
2016?
Yeah. I wanted to buy something on ASOS at $1/150, then I decided to chill small. Had I known.
All of us man. So, what happened after school?
In January 2016, I moved from school back home. My dad came to pick me. I remember that my dad was just smiling as he and my sibling packed everything into the car. Welcome to reality.
In a hostel, we had 24/7 light, water, accessible ATMs etc. On my first night back home, there was no power — no generator? I went to meet my dad. He said, “If you have money for petrol, put it on.”
That’s when I knew.
My money kept reducing. When I hit my last 2k, I knew I had to get a job. I got a job in a lab – Mondays to Saturdays. Guess how much they were paying
How much?
₦40,000. It was a small and new lab, so I had to do everything, from turning on the generator to settling fights between couples arguing over who gave who an STD.
I was counselor, gateman and therapist. I used to get home 10-11pm, because of work.
My running costs – transport and food – was ₦23k. So I had ₦17k left. And because “fresh outta school now” you and your friends want to link up and everything, that’s 5 or 6k. Internet also took money. So I had next to nothing left. It was like I was chasing a cycle, and my spare was in case of emergency. And there was always an emergency.
Standard
I did that job for three months and I realised I couldn’t continue. I didn’t have money and I was working my life out. But my boss was like the most amazing person. We still keep in touch. He too knew that the money was shit. But na condition make crayfish bend.
I get that.
Remember that company website I was working for? My line manager moved to another startup and they were hiring. I went for the interview and got hired. It was an internship role, but I was so excited – so excited I didn’t ask how much.
It will end in –
– Tears. It was ₦55k, but I didn’t even mind. I did get a raise to ₦80k though.
In all this time, I was applying for my professional internship to properly get certified and all that. I really loved working at the startup, but I had to resign towards the end of 2017. Then I became super broke
Did you have any savings?
While I was working at the startup, I took a loan to buy a laptop. I had to repay that over the next few months, so I couldn’t save. Also, I couldn’t ask my dad for money.
Are you still like that?
Yes. I’ll rather die than ask him. He’s the kind of person that if he does something for you, he requires you to do certain favours.
He’ll always bring up how he did this and that for you. So I already promised not to ask him. That month was brutal I used to take ₦150 bike to go see my babe before. Omo, I started walking.
My babe was very supportive. She used to sense that I was cranky. So sometimes she’d randomly send me some change and buy me stuff, like airtime or pizza.
She could smell the brokeness my guy.
Guy, the odour was potent. I knew all the cheap data plans. All the ₦500 for 1GB plans. All I was doing was sleeping or trekking if I had to go somewhere.
Anyway, it all lasted for one month. And then I resumed at my internship. Then there was another problem. I didn’t have clothes – I hadn’t bought those for over a year. So I went back to my one true saviour, my sibling. And I promised him that I was going to be more sensible with money. My clothes got paid for, and we created a repayment plan.
That Red October was good for me, because I entered my Internship with red-eyed discipline. My net salary was ₦127k. I told myself I was going to have ₦1 million in savings by the end of the Internship. I’m saving up for when it’s time to start chasing Permanent Residence in the Abroad.
That’s steep.
My target was to save ₦90k every month for a year. I remember they didn’t pay me for like the first 3 months, because of government. But man was already used to suffering. So when they paid everything all my guys were going to buy phones. I first transferred ₦180k to one account that had no debit card or Internet banking. I bought stuff for my folks.
In the end, I had ₦20k left. I started trying to make money on the side – like the old days. And I could earn enough to help me save my entire salary on some months.
That’s impressive.
But you see the thing with money. When you start to enjoy, you go forget say you don suffer. So after the first four months, I told my self guy you can’t kill yourself. Have you not tried?! So I started to buy expensive wristwatches, expensive perfumes, my babe did birthday too, I spent money!
Hahaha, noooo!
I kept on buying randomly and I ended up spending ₦60k. I look everything wey the babe don do. This babe follow me when I dey trek.
Like she’ll be like is it not enough. I’ll be like you no say money no be problem hahaha.
I didn’t save in that month.
After two more months, I was like guy no spend this thing finish – NYSC was coming and I didn’t want to carry last. In the end, I missed my millon naira target by ₦122k.
But you see, I had money in my account, but I wasn’t happy with my life. Imagine having all that money and your phone is bad.
So, NYSC?
Yeah, I shopped for camp and everything. That was like 40k. Because deep down I don’t like suffering, I took ₦63k for camp I used to eat pancakes with syrup and eggs, sausages, and chicken.
In fact, I had only ₦3k by the time I received my first NYSC allowance. This was 2018.
I left camp in November. I had to change my PPA because I was trying to get an NGO, instead, I landed in a Government Hospital – ₦43k.
One woman there was saying, “Don’t be chasing money. It’s a learning experience.” In my mind I was like, people that learn with money do they have two heads?
Hahaha.
My first month there shocked them. I was always the first person to get to work. The next person always came 1 hour 30 minutes later. So I’m always manning the lab from 8-10:30 am. And it’s a fucking general hospital. I’m always overworked.
It’s interesting, going from a startup to civil service.
It’s like a crash landing. Startups require a level of commitment to work ethic. Startups tend to be understaffed, so when you’re not pulling your own weight, it’ll show. But Civil Service, I’m doing the barest minimum and they think I have a work ethic.
I’ll get to work at 7:50am. I’ll not leave till like 5. I’ll attend to every patient. I’ll go out of my way for patients to go and meet doctors.
At the startup, the fact that I knew there were performance reviews made me step up. Things that would have been difficult for me to know, I learned. And the six months I spent there had actually transformed my life. The kind of people that I’ve met. The way I handle a lot of things. If I had not passed through then I would be thinking of opening a community lab or pharmacy or hospital. I wouldn’t be able to dream big. I learned there that if you’re too comfortable where you are, you won’t gbebody.
I’ve not expended half of the energy from where I’m coming. My bosses at work are always like oh my God. He’s so hard working, he’s so principled. Oops!
My head o.
If I don’t do that barest minimum, I’ll die from boredom. Patients will be saying they’ve not seen anybody like you.
Because it takes nothing. At my other place I used to work like 8 till 5. But it felt like 8 till next year.
Now I’m working 8 till 4. And the work is mostly muscle memory. If I don’t take time to exercise my brain, trouble.
What’s your current running cost?
I get paid about ₦43k. NYSC pays me ₦19,800 so I save ₦35k to my Japa funds. I live on ₦29k. I’m living in my dad’s house. So I’m not paying rent, and I don’t eat out very much. Data is my big expense.. And my girlfriend is considerably understanding. We go for outings like once in 3months.
Same babe?
Same babe my man. We’ll marry.
What’s something you really want right now but you can’t afford?
Permanent residency in the Abroad – okay that’s taking it far. I want to pivot into the data sciences after Nysc. And I can’t keep doing free courses – one course I want to take, for example, costs $200. My funds are limited. Let me tell you why I bought phone too.
Oya
I went to donate blood in January 2019. I had donated blood six times before but on that seventh time, I almost fainted. I’ve never fainted in my life.
Why?
I don’t know. That’s the first time it happened to me. So they had to rush me back, and I had to do something where I’ll put my head down and put my legs up. In that moment, I had an epiphany. I had a fucking epiphany.
Hahaha.
Na so person go just die, next thing, next of kin will collect all my savings. As they released me from that place, I just went to buy an internet modem. The next day I called a phone seller. He told me the price of the phone I wanted and I told him, “Guy, I’m coming. Don’t close your shop.”
How much?
₦250k. I felt light after but, I kept on repeating eyan le ku any fucking time. At this point, I had only ₦500k left in savings.
Also, random, in as much as my babe is understanding, I try to do nice things for her.
Yeah
Also, from time to time, I do stuff for the people around me.
It’s kind of nerve-wracking, the longer I stay in Nigeria, the more I’ll deplete my savings. The more life will happen. Maybe I’ll want to move out, pay for rent.
Then I’ll now be telling my children ah! You guys would have been Canadian citizens.
I see the guys in Civil Service, 15-20 years of service. I see their pay slip. I know it’s emotionally draining for me because of my work ethic.
I’m always the one that goes the extra mile for mothers and their children. I help them chase doctors. Every other person is always like oh he’ll do it. So at the end of the work day, I feel very emotionally drained and still broke.
You know how they say empathy kills. It drains me.
Empathy is draining.
You’re seeing poor people. At the General Hospital, you’ll see things that’ll baffle you. I once saw a woman who was diabetic, and she had neuropathic pain. Pain from her waist down, and it was stinging.
They were supposed to give her an injection that cost ₦50. And this woman could not afford ₦50. She was crying The problem with having a lean budget is that you’re always with your last card till payday. But that day I thought, this woman doesn’t have any money anywhere, I have ₦500k somewhere.
I had like ₦150 because that money takes me home, while she still had to buy other drugs. So we just crowdfunded. I first bought her the injection, and we bought her other stuff.
Man.
The thing is, it’s not a one-off. It’s recurring. I’ve lost count of the times it’s happened. You’ll see people that can’t afford the most basic things. It’s tough, trying to save people when I am not centred enough.
Like trying to save drowning people from a sinking boat.
Argh. I sent someone my last ₦2k. ₦2k will solve the immediate problems of someone who has no money. On the other hand, I’m looking for ₦1 million.
2019 is showing me pepper, but it doesn’t feel as tough as 2017, because I have money, even though I try not to look at it as my money. But knowing it’s there makes me feel better, a safety net.
Let’s talk about Financial Happiness.
I think I’m unhappy because Nigeria is making me unhappy and I’m trying to leave. If I had no plans to leave, I think I’d be happier, even if I earned ₦60-something-k. But all my money and energy is pivoted towards leaving.
I’m not poor, I’m just broke a lot. Because I want to go to Canada.
So, I don’t think I’m sad because of my finances. If all else fails, I know I can go and beg my father. If I ask him for money now, he’ll give me. But you know what? I’d rather die. Maybe, in the end, all my strong head is just because I want to outdo him.
Every week, we ask anonymous people to give us a window into their relationship with the Naira – their secret Naira Life.
When was the first time you earned money?
A scholarship when I was in 100-level. The money wasn’t coming to me – it was going to my dad’s account – but it was in my name. That’s the first money that’s ever come in my name. 220k a year.
But besides that, I didn’t make any money in Uni or anything like that. No businesses and all that.
But my first salary was in NYSC – ₦9,775 – in 2009. Then the state I served was paying us ₦40k quarterly.
After NYSC, I travelled for Masters and so I was also working. This was 2012. My first job was paying £7/hour and I worked and I worked 8 hours a day – 40 hours per week. I was a cold-caller at a Utility company. Also, students were restricted to 40 hours a week. I changed jobs twice after, but by the time I was coming to Nigeria, I had about £3,000 in cash. I already invested £1,200 of the money in Nigerian stocks, mostly oil company stocks.
Why did you come back?
Marriage noni. I actually proposed not coming back, but my fiancee didn’t want to relocate. My family was like “Oh come back, don’t worry you’ll get this and that.” So I came back.
Marriage plans kicked off immediately. I think only the bridesmaids’ dresses and my wedding gowns. But I really didn’t have to spend much. My family paid for the whole thing.
After marriage, I was just chilling and getting into the job hunt vibe, then one morning, two things happened.
What?
I got an email from an auditing firm – one of the biggest in the world – emailed But then, something else popped.
Whatttt?
Bẹlẹ́. I found out I was pregnant. I really wanted to continue with the application, but when these guys interview you, there’s always the screening exercise where you run all kinds of tests. The tests were definitely going to come back with a positive for pregnancy. So I just let it go.
Also, there was some comfort in the fact that I hadn’t exactly run out of my small stash of money, so I focused on carrying my baby full term. The baby came in 2015. When my baby came, I wanted to give the baby some time before going back to job hunting.
I committed the next year and a half, and so I started job hunting in mid-2016 again. Then the recession hit.
What was your biggest struggle at this point?
First, I was doing the usual blind applications online, sending in CVs and all. My partner hustled for jobs and opportunities too. The ones that invited me for interview were like, “you’re married. How are you going to manage both? Will your husband be comfortable with late nights?”
Tragic. How were you getting money to get by all this time?
I was throwing the little money I had into a bunch of things. I invested in a family member’s poultry farm that brought in some stipends. For every ₦200k I invested, I got a profit of ₦80k in 4 months. Then allowances from my partner.
I tried experimenting in stuff. For example. I started helping small businesses with their bookkeeping and projections. Only 3 gigs came that year, 2016, and they were at ₦30k each. I tried starting a business to keep busy, but the margins weren’t good enough to earn anything from it. It really was just to keep me busy.
2017 was a drought for me. There was this company – a small financial services company – they hired me on a contract basis. So I only got paid when there was work, but I really just wanted the experience. There was a lot of free time, and I was like, “might as well drop another baby since I’m at home.”
Another one.
I kind of knew how many children I wanted to have, so might as well. I went on to have my second baby in 2018. Some months after my second baby, I got a fulltime job now paying ₦60k.
What’s happened to your perspective between 2014 and now?
Not like marriage is bad, but growth might be harder when you have to carry people along, somehow. If I wasn’t married I wouldn’t have had a child. If I didn’t have a child, I’ll most likely be earning more.
The job market, especially at entry level, has a prejudice against married women and mothers because they assume you’ll be making excuses for family and all that.
That period also showed me that I’m not a “buying and selling” person. I’d rather spend my time providing services. There’s also the part that I grew up really comfortable – there was always money. But you see this period? I learned frugality.
Let’s break down that monthly ₦60k.
First, because I’ve started working, I’m having to restock on work clothes. My partner provides for most of the big bill needs, but he still gives me money for the kids’ care. He pulls in all his weight, but to be honest, baby care money is never enough.
Then there are small debts from when I didn’t have a job. Transport is cheap because my workplace is not too far from where I live, so it’s almost negligible.
How much money do you feel like you should be earning right now?
Hahaha. ₦400k, at the very least. And that’s because of the experience I would have gained between then and now. Plus the qualifications I now have – ICAN.
Okay, realistically how much money is good money right now?
As per Frugal Master now, I’ll have enough to meet my needs and have enough to save at ₦200k.
What’s something you want but can’t afford?
A good phone, a powerful computer, and a good watch.
Do you have a pension?
Hahaha. Pension ko, pension ni. The company I work at is really small. To be honest, they can’t even afford it.
What’s the last thing you paid for that require serious planning?
My ICAN induction. I had to plan for that ₦100k because it’s not like I had any money at the time. Also, I’m currently paying for graphic design classes – ₦70k.
Design?
Yeah. I love design, video games, animation and all of that. I’ve been enthusiastic about them for as long as I can remember. When I was Abroad, I spent a lot of my money on buying game CDs – GTA V, Far Cry, God of War, Assassins Creed, Driver, etc.
Anyway, paying for it took a big hit on my finances.
Sounds like an important investment. Tell me about your other investments.
I invested in stocks, and although it made some decent dividends, it took a hit in 2016 during the recession. At some point, I had to liquidate the stocks for an emergency.
Also, there’s that farm that the family member has. But Oga farmer is no longer receiving outside investment. So I have no active monetary investments.
What’s the most annoying miscellaneous you paid for recently?
A bridal shower. Ugh. It was ₦10k, but that money was unexpected at the time.
Do you have an emergency plan for health and all that stuff?
My father. My father is my 9-1-1. I mean, my partner always comes through, but I can also be sure of my father.
What’s the scale of your happiness looking like right now?
7/10, and it’s mostly because of my kids. They’re the reason I still keep fighting and pushing to be better. They are the reason all those years don’t feel wasted.
What do you think you’d have done differently about the last few years?
I’ll use protection, first of all. I don’t regret my first child, but I’d have conceived that baby much later when I’m already working. In fact, this is the order I would have done it; get a job, then marry, then have kids.
Still grateful.
If you’ve been reading this every Monday, you know the drill at this point. If you haven’t, now you know that Zikoko talks to anonymous people every week about their relationship with the Naira.
Sometimes, it will be boujee, other times, it will be struggle-ish. But all the time–it’ll be revealing.
What you should know about the guy in this story: He’s a 23-year-old Youth Corps member working at a decent place of primary assignment in Lagos.
When was the first time you made money?
I was in SS1, and a day student too, so I used to sell noodles. This is how it worked; boarding students were getting served horrible food, so selling a better alternative to them meant an instant hit.
I’d wake up early – like 5am – prepare the noodles based on orders I’d received. Then take everything to school. I was fulfilling a real need, so it wasn’t hard to charge them ₦500 per plate.
In SS2, PTDF – that Petroleum Technology Development Fund thing – they donated computers to my school, about 100 of them. Bu you know what was crazy? The school wasn’t allowing us use them, something about us not being tech-savvy or so we don’t spoil them. They literally just locked them up like they were furniture.
So imagine that one day, we’re all just chilling in the hostel, me and my friends, and someone just said, “what if we took these parts of the computers from the lab, you know, the ones easy to replace. And then we sold them?”
And that’s how we started, we managed to get the key from the prefect in charge of where the computers were kept, then we’d sneak in, take a couple of things, a hard drive here, a mouse there, etc. Then we’d sell them at the side of town where everyone went for the computer parts and Tokunbo phones. There were about four of us, but any time we sold anything we used to get over ₦30k, then we’d split it.
In typical fashion, the others boys found out in the hostel, and it became an absolute mess. They were moving entire computer monitors and stuff.
That is absolutely crazy.
You know what was even crazier? The school had external visitors, and in typical fashion, they wanted to “show off the computers to being used to prepare for our digital future.” A madness. Then they just opened the lab, and bam, missing computers here and there.
We never got found out.
What would have happened if they caught you guys?
Expulsion, most likely. There was always the fear of getting caught, but the money kinda balanced out that fear. That time, I’d just jump the school fence and go deposit it in my Kiddies Bank Account – I already had a bank account then.
How old were you?
16 – a proper Juvenile Delinquent.
Anyway, it was a mostly dry patch after that. I tried out buying and selling stuff, like clothes. That’s when I realised that this version of buying and selling, where I didn’t create the product, sucked.
I started writing, and learning graphics, and getting paid to do them, but the gigs were far too few and far in between for it to be called a real gig.
Then my allowance from home got sparser and sparser – my folks were having money struggles – and I had to do something about it. So I had this friend who was cashing out like mad selling weed – Loud specifically.
I invested ₦35k that should get you a quarter ounce, and you know how much I got back in 2 weeks? ₦50k – that’s a 43% return on investment. I threw more money in, and that’s how I survived my final year in school, mostly feeding off dividends.
You were trafficking drugs?
Basically. I mean, I dunno what the constitution says about that, but I know if you get caught, you’re going to pay.
I wasn’t directly in contact with any clientele, because I really was just an investor, but the market was mostly working class people and anyone who could pay. Students couldn’t afford to pay ₦5k for a bag.
When I was leaving school, I exited at ₦200k. But in total, I think I made up to half a million in like 11 months. The money never came in chunks, except for when I exited.
Then post-school, I reconnected with a previously distant relative, who kind of stepped up, and the random cash boosts were helpful. But it wasn’t consistent, and you don’t want to depend on that kind of money.
What was your solution?
Finding multiple streams of income. I even tried to secure posting to some company that was willing to pay ₦80k, but it didn’t work out.
Currently, money just comes from NYSC and my place of primary assignment. I’m trying to figure shit out while trying not to get screwed over with the law or something.
How much do you get in a month currently?
I get up to 55k now every month – enough for a few Uber trips, transport and food.
What’s the most interesting NYSC season has taught you about money?
Everybody lies about money. Parents lie about money. Friends lie about money. NYSC people lie about money – a corper told me he was getting ₦100k. It’s not impossible to earn that, but I found out that it was a lie. Like, he had no reason to lie, yet he did. Guys at work will never tell you how much they earn. Also, everyone seems to be living beyond their means.
Looking at your skillset, how much do you feel like you should be earning right now?
I feel like I should be earning between 100 and ₦150k. But getting good money right now, that would be about ₦3 million a year. Still, this number will not help me pay rent where I’d like to live. I won’t be able to consistently handle family emergencies when they come up, because they will come up.
What’s your unpopular opinion about money?
Money is amoral. I understand the importance of money – don’t get me wrong – but people try to moralise money. Like, this is how you should earn etc, and I don’t get it. As long as I’m not hurting anybody, I don’t see a problem with the method.
It’s why I never dabbled into Internet fraud – I was surrounded by it in school – but you literally had to take money from someone who wasn’t willing to give you by manipulation. That’s fraud.
Also, I now realise that money really is the biggest motivator. If you pay people, they just tend to act right.
How much do you imagine you’ll be earning in like 5 years?
I was on Complex.com the other day and they pay about $2,500 monthly to their writers. So if I’m earning that, using today’s estimates, I’ll say I’ve done pretty well with the piece-of-shit degree that means nothing to me.
Forget the 5-year question, where do you imagine you’ll be financially in 30 years.
30 years might be too much for me, my imagination tends to run wild. But 10 years, I feel like I would have figured out a lot of it, not all of it. Wherever I’m at, I’m just going to try to be content. Because it’s not about how much you earn, but how happy you are with it – or some shit like that.
If you can’t think about 30 years now, then you clearly haven’t thought about a pension.
Nope. I’ve never really seen myself as someone that would need a pension. I just feel like if in 30 years, I can’t afford the life I need, maybe I didn’t do life right.
What’s something you really want right now but can’t afford?
A very long list of tech that keeps getting longer. Mainly a good Mac, a Sony mirrorless camera, GoPros, etc.
What’s the last you paid for that required serious planning?
A website. Setting it up cost me roughly ₦50k.
What about the most annoying miscellaneous you’ve had to pay for?
Apple Music. Paying for music. Like, I miss 2006. You download music now and everybody thinks you’re archaic. But that’s just the way things are now.
Do you have an emergency plan for when you fall sick and –
– I’m fucked. That’s probably why I never fall sick. Life is very much in limbo right now. But I’m working on plans to prepare an emergency fund. Maybe in a small buying and selling-ish business.
Do you feel like NYSC is a financial hindrance for you or…?
Not really. I needed time off. I was burned out after University. Even if there was no NYSC, I might have had a gap year or something. I just needed a break from chasing and all of that.
Sometimes, I wish I didn’t even get a job, but then I can’t complain. I have job experience – valuable business development experience.
NYSC is ending in less than a year, what’s the money thing looking like?
I’ve not even really planned everything to the letter, to be honest. But the best case scenario is that I get retained at my current place of primary assignment. That might give me up to 150k for a starting salary. Do that for a year or two, then I go back to school to get another degree.
The goal is to attempt to grow my income enough to cater for two people at the minimum. Not because I intend to become the sole provider or anything, but as a personal target. I just want to be able to help out. I’ll consider it a successful three years if I can go to school and juggle work.
Worst case scenario, none of this happens, and I end up looking for a job. Or find a small gig, while doing stuff I truly give a shit about on my own time.
Despite all of this, how would you rate your happiness levels?
I’ve never really been the happiest person. But I’m alive sha, I don’t worry a lot.
I’m trying to enjoy the impermanence of my situation, and not think too much about it.
Check back every Monday at 9 am (WAT) for a peek into the Naira Life of everyday people.
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Also, you can find every story in this series here.
So, you just got done with your service year in the NYSC. You’re at your Passing Out Parade, taking pictures with all the friends you’ve made in the last year. Friends that you might never see again because you all live at opposite sides of the country, and visiting them would seem like the journey from the Shire to Mordor.
But that’s not even the focus here.
Now the time has come to dive headfirst into the “real world” to look for a job that pays well enough for you to not have to moonlight as a stripper. But this is Nigeria. The job market is a mess, which means that there most likely will be some time (give or take, a few months) between the end of NYSC and when you get your first job that’s going to feel a lot like limbo.
That’s the period we’re here to talk about.
There will come a time when you’ll need money to survive.
You managed to save a substantial amount of money from the N19,800 allowee. (A paltry amount). Post-NYSC, it’ll last for some time while you run around looking for a job, but eventually, it’ll run out. You’ll have mini-panic attacks whenever your bank sends your end-of-month account statement because it serves as a reminder that it’s only a matter of time before you have to ask your parents for money.
You’ll eventually start getting invited for job interviews.
Which of course means that you’ll have to invest in some professional interview attire (suits, blazers, shoes etc). Basically, you have to look like this when arriving for any job interview:
Even if the company isn’t about the corporate life, dress like this still. Because “dress how you want to be addressed” or whatever. These things cost (a lot of) money, though. Then there are transport costs for all the running around you’ll be doing. You start soliciting for funds left and right.
After multiple interviews spread out over the course of a few months, you finally get a job offer.
And you accept! Which of course means you’ll need even more money. For what you ask? Well, now that you’ve gotten the job, you’re going to need more clothes, transport money, a computer (for if the office doesn’t offer one), food etc. And seeing as most companies don’t give salary advances, you’re on your own for that first month.
Then you’re informed that there’s a professional certificate you have to have before you can legally work in the field you’ve gotten a job in. Your new employers are sympathetic and give you one month to get it or they’ll have no choice but to let you go. The course takes 2 weeks of night classes so you have the time, but it also costs 80,000 naira. More costs.
That’s a thing no one tells you. Getting a job automatically means you’ll have to spend money. Think of it like your back-to-school preparations in secondary school, but for the workplace.
However, what if we told you that there’s a way to make sure your limbo period isn’t as hard as the scenario we just described?
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In the immortal words of Wizkid, don’t dull.
Welcome to this Episode of “This is Nigeria”. Today, we would be placing our focus on our Minister of Finance.
Mrs. Kemi Adeosun
For those who aren’t Nigerians. Let me quickly explain something to you. There is a program called NYSC.
National Youth Service Corps (NYSC)
In Nigeria, after your university education, it is mandatory that you serve your country through this said program.
Without doing this program, you won’t be qualified to get a job or run for political posts.
Now, let me give you a brief history on our Minister of Finance just before we connect the dots to this story.
She went to school in the Polytechnic of East London where she graduated at the age of 22.
She didn’t move back to Nigeria immediately, so obviously she couldn’t serve her country immediately.
Oh, I forgot to mention that as long as you graduate before 30 you are mandated to serve at any time.
She got a job after graduating and changed jobs over 5 times from 1989 when she graduated up until 2000.
Wow, she must be really hardworking.
She moved back to Nigeria in 2002 when she got offered a job in a private company. Finally, she gets a chance to serve her fatherland.
But no, she came back and didn’t partake in the program.
Her career skyrocketed to the point where she became Nigeria’s Minister of Finance.
Such goals!
Nigerians have ears everywhere and know everything. I promise you. Because they were able to dig out the fact that Mrs. Adeosun never served Nigeria.
But she is serving as the Minister of Finance? How?
For some reason, she has a certificate. And a lot of people have come to the conclusion that its a fake one.
At least until Mrs. Kemi can prove otherwise.
Its very important to talk about it because the average Nigerian can’t get a job without having done NYSC.
And you can even face jail time for not participating in this program. It’s that important.
With all of this in mind, I just want you to know that there is a high possibility our Minister of Finance did not serve her fatherland.
But no worries, once she speaks up about it. I’d let you know.
You’ll never be exposed to a crowd of people as diverse as those you’ll meet in NYSC camp. Although the living conditions are appalling these people almost make the whole experience worth it.
There are the ones who just came back from the overseas and will start stressing everybody with ‘that’s not how we did thing in the States’ and accent.
Even the ones who went to Cotonou will have British accent.
There are the ones who were only interested in getting exeat so that they could go home.
They didn’t come to suffer with you commoners.
The ones who just came to drink their destinies away at mammy market.
But on a serious note, they might have actually needed professional help.
Then there were the ones who belonged to the school of hard knacks and only came to have as much sex as they could.
It’s just three weeks, it’s that how the konji is doing you?
The ITKs that were always volunteering for everything.
They didn’t rest until they became platoon leader.
The ‘do you know who my father is’ people?
If you don’t geddifok out of here.
The ones who were somehow so excited to be in camp.
Have you seen the toilets? What’s making you happy?
We can’t leave out all those promise and fail soldiers.
The ones that’ll tell you don’t worry if you march well you’ll get posted to the capital and you ended up getting posted to a village without light.
The ones who were only there for the food.
All the food sellers at mammy market knew them.
The ones you are pretty sure were old enough to have been in the first ever batch of NYSC.
They might have even been your father’s age mate.
The ones whose life mission was to never step foot on the parade ground.
They did whatever it took and were always in the clinic.
There was the friendly soldier everyone liked.
They didn’t have any wahala.
And the one who was only interested in making people miserable.
But who offended you?
The ones who came to camp to find love.
And they found it o.
The ones who secured their exeat with doctor’s report as soon as they stepped foot into the camp.
Only you asthma, cancer, bronchitis and HIV. Take your wahala and go.
So who did we leave out and which one were you?
If you are about to start NYSC or you’ve even started already we know you’ve probably heard a ton about how the whole program works. But there are some things nobody will tell you, and we are here to help you out.
All the Uncles and Aunties that told you to wait for NYSC to finish before you bring your C.V. will suddenly disappear.
It’s only God that can judge them.
Don’t die on the line trying to get Lagos, have you seen Ibadan or Abeokuta?
At least there is no traffic there.
If they tell you to come at 8 a.m for anything that means you should come at 12 p.m
Don’t waste your precious time.
It’ll frustrate you like everything else in Nigeria is designed to do but it’s really not a bad experience.
If you are lucky you’ll get retained at your PPA.
If you get posted to an unfamiliar state just stay there and explore a different culture.
Are you not tired of seeing yellow buses and Lekki-Ikoyi link bridge? You want to spend your whole life in Lagos that’s why you think there are only three tribes in Nigeria.
Don’t let anyone you don’t know collect money from you to ‘work’ anything.
All those ones that’ll tell you not to go for monthly clearance that they’ll help you work it, you’ll be there looking when your mates are passing out.
Camp is a pretty great place for you to meet people that can epp your life.
Better don’t dull it.
The khaki they’ll give you is not loyal any small rough play and the thing will tear and disgrace you.
So you better sew a backup at mammy market before you leave camp.
And finally when it’s all done you’ll actually miss it a little bit.
At least you were collecting 19,800 every month instead of sitting at home.
