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Hustle | Zikoko! Hustle | Zikoko!
  • #Hustleprint: From Studying Agricultural Engineering to Working at Spotify

    Every week, Zikoko will share the hustle stories of Nigerians making it big in and out of the country. With each story, we’ll ask one crucial question in several ways: “How you do am?”

    So Zainab, how you do am?

    The story is long.

    I never had one dream. At some point, I loved mathematics and wanted to study that, but by the time I finished secondary school, I wanted to study chemical engineering — it was the most interesting option for a science student who didn’t want to go for medicine — but I didn’t get in. West African Examinations Council (WAEC) did me dirty.

    What happened?

    My Senior Secondary Certificate of Education (SSCE) results were delayed. I had to use my General Certificate Examination (GCE) instead. But who really aces GCE? Of all the subjects, biology was the one that messed me up. Without it, I couldn’t apply to the chemical engineering department at the University of Ilorin.   

    By the time WAEC decided to release our SSCE results, the department was full. I wasn’t ready to stay home for a year. And that’s pretty much how I ended up in Agricultural and Biometrics engineering. I had no clue what it was about.

    I relate to the madness of WAEC, but this interview isn’t about me

    Studying agricultural engineering wasn’t a horrible experience though. I took some helpful courses from other engineering departments and there was some programming involved. In 200 level, I took a programming class called Visual Basic, which was a third-generation and old programming language. Nevertheless, it sparked an interest because I was super interested in programming in general.

    The issue was what job I’d be able to get in Nigeria. When I got to 400 level, that question became even more difficult to answer. While my guys in other engineering departments were able to get internships in big oil companies,  I was stuck working at a government ministry in Ilorin. No shade to government workers, but I knew I wasn’t interested in working there.

    So you didn’t know where you would work after school?

    Not exactly. But like my mates in other engineering departments, I wanted the flexibility of choosing big organisations in the private sector. I didn’t want to be stuck at a job because I didn’t have any other choice. 

    After my internship, I was sure I’d transition into another field of engineering. I considered mechanical engineering because I took a lot of courses with the mechanical engineering department, and I could relate more with that. It also seemed interesting, and that’s how my transition began.

    And to the meat of our gist

    After my NYSC in 2016, I applied for a master’s degree in advanced mechanical engineering with management at the University of Leicester, UK. I ended up deferring my admission because my visa was delayed.

    I just took the delay as a gap year and used the free time to learn coding. I couldn’t take the programming classes in uni as seriously as I’d wanted because there was no time. Now, I had all the time in the world.

    I started with coding courses online, but I wanted to try out for an internship. So I searched for internships and found a tweet from Hotels.ng calling out for interns.

    I got in, but the it was too fast paced for me as a complete beginner.

     Nevertheless, I’m grateful for the community the program gave me. I had the opportunity to meet and connect with people of different level of technical skills both online and offline, some of who I’m still connected with today.

    A few weeks after the internship, I applied for the first Andela Learning Community sponsored by Google at the time. The program’s structure was hybrid, so I had more access to people in the tech community in Ilorin. That was a plus to the Twitter community I discovered from my Hotels.ng internship.

    At this point, what tech skill were you focused on building?

    Android development. It made me consider switching my master’s degree to computer science. But I didn’t want to flop. 

    When I finally went for my master’s in 2017, my interest switched to artificial intelligence. We were taking a modelling and statistics course that covered how algorithms make it easy for computers to classify and recognise objects. I was curious.

    I read more about artificial intelligence on my own, and that’s how I stumbled on data science. It seemed like the perfect mix of my interests. The programming aspect I’d learnt before my master’s degree and the data part covered statistics and mathematics. 

    So the best of both worlds?

    Exactly. It only made sense to branch out into data science and start taking courses online.

    Sweet. When did you land your first role?

    Towards the end of my master’s degree in 2018. At first, I was applying for any kind of job. Whether it was consulting or banking, I applied because I didn’t want to leave the UK after school. But I wasn’t getting feedback. Eventually, I realised I had to stay focused on my initial goal to work as a data scientist. 

    I started applying for analytics roles aggressively. I must have sent at least 300 applications before I got my first interview invite. The initial chit-chat with the team went great, but the technical assessment made me nervous – it was my first job, and I didn’t know what to expect. I hadn’t worked on a real-life data set. Essentially, I wasn’t very confident in my skills for these reasons.

    The whole room started spinning in my head. And I flunked the test.

    But you still got the job?

    Yeah. On my trip back home, I sent an email to the team and thanked them for the opportunity. But I also added in an apology for messing up my test.  I explained how nervous I felt, and the pressure from writing my dissertation while preparing for the test. I guess they understood.

    Surprisingly, the team asked me to take the test again. This time I had two weeks to submit the test like a take-home assignment. I still didn’t ace it though.

    And you still got the job, Zainab?

    LMAO. Yes. They felt the email demonstrated my willingness to learn. At least that’s what their email said. My job at the company was assisting the team with analysing market research surveys. 

    This was my first taste of the corporate world was great. At least for the four months, it lasted.

    What happened?

    I couldn’t sort out the extension on my UK visa, so I moved back to Nigeria. 

    The company allowed me to work remotely, but between the horrible internet and frustrating generator noises at many meetings, keeping up was impossible. I decided to leave.

    I’m sorry. How did the Nigerian job market compare to the opportunities in the UK?

    It was next to zero. I searched for data analyst roles on LinkedIn and there was nothing available. I reached out to my friends in tech for help. I remember one texting me about my salary expectations for a particular role. I said ₦500k. I’m sure the guy laughed because, thinking about it now, I had barely a year of experience to offer. But still, how was I to know? I didn’t understand the jobscape in Nigeria.

    A month later, I got a job with an energy company. I was doing everything data and engineering-related at the company. I’d go to sites to set up energy metres and still spend time analysing the energy consumption of all our clients. The workload was a lot. I needed something else. 

    Fascinating

    But while I was still at the energy company, a friend started a data visualisation community. The goal was to connect and learn how to present information visually with graphs. But I didn’t have time to dedicate to learning and practising this until the lockdown.

    During the pandemic, it was easier to attend classes. Tableau was one software people in the data industry talked about, so I dedicated more time to practicing. Every project I did went up on Twitter, and I started gaining traction. I was just everywhere at the time plugging my work.

    Nine months into my job at the energy company, a friend directed me to a fintech company searching for product analysts. I applied, got the job and spent the next year there.

    The next stop was Spotify.

    How did the Spotify offer happen?

    The weekly Twitter posts became my portfolio online. I didn’t know it at the time, but people were watching. In 2021, a senior data scientist at Spotify sent me a DM on Linkedin. He was recruiting for his team and asked me to apply for the job. I went through a five-stage process, and that was it. 

    I got the job and relocated to Sweden in April 2021. It’s been a year since I joined the Sweden team. Now, I’m looking forward to a new experience at the London office in May. 

    Nice. How has the experience been so far?

    Spotify is a cool company. At first, working in a big company was overwhelming, especially after coming from a startup but I’ve eased into it. There’s more structure than I was used to, and everyone’s role is defined and clear. 

    Speaking of roles, what exactly do you do at Spotify?

    I help product teams make informed decisions with data. One aspect is through visualisation. For instance, if there is a goal to reach x billion user streams, I build dashboards where people can go to monitor the progress. I also do exploratory deep dives into certain trends and patterns observed and test different hypotheses based on data observations. These analysis are presented to products teams and other stakeholders who then make decisions based on them.”

    That’s huge. What’s one thing you think has prepared you for this role?

    I’d say consistently learning and moving forward. My career journey never looked put together to me. I went from engineering to programming to data science and now, data visualisation. I think by now you should know I work with vibes. 

    The funny thing is, when I went to the UK for my master’s, Spotify was one of the first apps I downloaded. I’d never experienced anything as good as their recommendation engine. The algorithm knew the exact songs I’d want in a playlist. As a tech enthusiast, that was insane. I wanted to understand how it worked.  

    At that point, I couldn’t have believed I’d end up working at Spotify. Every decision I made about my career was vibes, a little bit of strategy and a lot of luck.

    What do you think is next for your career?

    Right now, I want stability. I’ve spent the last two years moving companies, so I’m focused on building at Spotify. At least for another year or two.

  • Everything You Should Know About Becoming an Actor in Nigeria

    Every week, Zikoko will share the hustle stories of Nigerians making it big in and out of the country. With each story, we’ll ask one crucial question in several ways: “How you do am?”

    We recently shared Jemima Osunde’s hustle story — how she broke into acting while in medical school and what it’s like as a newbie in Nollywood. Now that you know how she did it, this guide will take you step-by-step on how you can become an actor in Nigeria.

    Image source: Pexels

    So, how do you get started?

    There’s typically no age requirement — no need for football age here, dears — but you’ll need to show you have a good grasp of acting to get the opportunities that’ll help you kickstart an acting career. How do you show you know what you’re doing?

    Consider taking acting classes:
    There are no formal educational requirements for actors, but a great place to start if you’re willing to spend money is to explore acting schools for professional training.

    Also consider local acting opportunities — think school plays or church-setting type short dramas — and memory exercises to help you remember your lines. You know how you can recite CKay’s Love Nwantiti word for word? That’s what you want to achieve with memory exercises. Something as simple as listening while you read may help you memorise scripts better.

    Attend auditions and casting calls:
    A great way to stay informed about audition opportunities is by following other professionals in the acting industry on social media. Even if you don’t start getting callbacks immediately, it’s a prime opportunity to mingle with crew members and other actors, and grow your network.

    Prepare the necessary media:
    By necessary media, we mean headshots or even a recorded monologue. They’ll want to know what you look like to confirm you have the right “look” and charisma for the role. So, keep them high-quality and natural-looking.

    And no, it’s not superficial. The movie industry thrives on the “believe-ability” of the actors. Would you pass for a hustling mechanic? Do you give off the bad bitch vibes required for the role you’re auditioning for? These are the questions that need to be answered. 

    Gain experience:
    The more people see you, the better it is for your acting career. Your performance after landing your first role, and the strength of your network will contribute to your landing more roles and gaining experience.

    What if you don’t have experience?

    Most people start without experience. You need to get roles to actually get the experience. So, as a newbie, it’s important to focus on improving your skills and giving it your all at auditions.

    Do auditions cost money?

    No. In fact, this is the only appropriate response to anyone asking you to pay before you can audition for a role.

    How to get your first acting gig

    There’s no one-size-fits-all approach to getting your first acting gig. Once you’ve done your bit in finetuning your skills, attend as many open auditions and casting calls as possible. Don’t forget to network as well.

    Do beginner actors get paid?

    Yes, although payment may depend on the production size and available budget. Some actors even take unpaid acting opportunities just to build their portfolio. As a newbie, you may need an extra source of income to support your finances when you’re in between acting gigs.

    How many hours do actors work?

    According to Jemima, movies require you to be on set for about two weeks, and this involves several hours of shooting per day. For a more extended series, it might take longer. 

    And according to another actor, who wishes to remain anonymous, there are no specific work hours. You only know your call time which is typically between 6 a.m. to 7 a.m. Cinema film sets can be as long as 2 to 3 weeks, while IrokoTV or AfMag film sets take like 5 days.

    Sometimes, travel is required if the movie has different set locations. So, if you’re unlucky to work on a set that isn’t close to your house, you might have to leave home even earlier to beat possible traffic. Lagos residents can relate.

    Remember that part about no specific work hours? It also applies to closing times. There are no closing hours on sets in Nigeria. Sometimes, you could get off set before midnight; other times, you’ll shoot till dawn. It’s the price for fame.

    How much do Nigerian actors even make?

    Payment can be a real hustle for beginners, TBH. It’s either the producer goes, “Abeg abeg, there’s no budget”, or if your Nigerian mother taught you how to price meat in the market, you could earn between ₦30-80k per movie role. It could also be higher, depending on how much they want you.

    B-list* stars earn between ₦100-300k depending on the film’s budget and their negotiation skills. A-list* stars and veterans can command between ₦400k to ₦1.5m per role on an average. It could also be more, again depending on how much they want you.

    Some productions also pay per day the actor is on set. Beginners on TV films, like IrokoTV, get paid between ₦15-20k per day. B-listers* usually get ₦50-100k per day. Per-day payments usually don’t apply to A-listers*, though.

    The income may not always be great, but focusing on quality over quantity of films you shoot is necessary. How do you define quality in Nollywood? Well, from the script, you should have an idea if it was put together in 20 minutes, or if it’s something that can hold its own against international standards.

    So you don’t have abominations like this on your record:

    You may just be starting out, but it’s not every role you’re offered you should take, please. Focusing on quality may just be what sets you apart from the hundred other actors out there and set you up nicely for your big break.


    PS: We also broke down everything you just read in this TikTok video.


    *A-list/A-lister: This describes a group of people considered to be the most famous or successful at their crafts. You could say Zikoko is an A-lister. 😉

    *B-list/B-lister: This describes a group of people who are also successful at their crafts, but not as famous as the A-listers.


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  • What Happens When You Can’t Withdraw Cash for Two Weeks Straight?

    One day, you’re wondering where to find the shortest fuel queue. The next, central bank decides to change its currency, fix a short deadline on old notes, then goes ahead to make the new notes scarce and force everyone to go cashless.

    I didn’t think it’d be an issue really, until my bank started acting like the weapons fashioned against me, and I couldn’t even go cashless in peace. 
    So, I tried to survive on only ₦500 cash at hand for two weeks, and I’m still alive. It’s very likely you don’t have cash too — or you don’t have enough for the necessary small transactions — so let me teach you how to survive this period.

    Stay at home

    Whoever invented introverts knows ball. I’m not much of an outside person, but this period has further taught me the wisdom of sitting at home and eating whatever I have in my kitchen. If work makes you leave your house every day, I sympathise with you.

    Do online transfers for EVERYTHING

    When they work, at least. A friend told me how she transferred ₦300 to a pepper seller. Thing is, you won’t know who accepts transfers unless you ask. Ask that okada man for a transfer option today.

    Become interested in fitfam

    Do you really need to take a bus when you can walk? Do you actually crave shawarma, or are your village people just working overtime? You can always tell yourself you’re pursuing your fitness goals.

    Sleep

    You can’t spend money while you sleep.

    Shop at supermarkets

    Since the major problem is cash, do your shopping at places where POS transactions are readily available. Of course, your bank can still disgrace you, but what’s life without a little risk?

    Date a POS attendant 

    Who knows, you might get free new notes as a relationship privilege. Plus, imagine dating one of the hottest set of people in Nigeria right now.

    Just give up

    Even if you survive the two-week mark, what’s the assurance that the cash situation would’ve improved by then? God, actually abeg.


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  • Doctor by Day, Nollywood Sweetheart by Night, How She Do Am?

    Every week, Zikoko will share the hustle stories of Nigerians making it big in and out of the country. With each story, we’ll ask one crucial question in several ways: “How you do am?”

    Jemima Osunde is a 26-year-old physiotherapist and actress. Fed up with the chaos of medical school, Jemima decided to pursue acting on the side. She called her big break pure luck, but through her story, we found out what it’s like to hustle as a newbie in Nollywood.

    Jemima Osunde Hustleprint
    Jemima Osunde – Hustleprint

    So Jemima, how did you do it?

    I always tell people acting happened to me randomly. Physiotherapy was what I wanted to do. Things started in my first year at UNILAG in 2013. Post-JAMB messed up my grades, so I took a diploma program to get into 200 level the next year. Anyone who knows what UNILAG’s diploma is like knows it can be chaotic.

    How chaotic was it, on a scale of 1-10?

    Hmm. We’d be like 200 in one hall with no power. Lecturers would yell at the top of their lungs at the front of the hall, doing their best, but only the first 50 people could hear them. The rest of us were just there to sign attendance and fulfil all righteousness by being there. 

    So it broke the scale? 

    LOL. Yeah. 

    I did that for a few weeks and knew it couldn’t be my life for the rest of the year. That Christmas, I was at an uncle’s party, and we talked about how school was going. He suggested I consider acting since I was always talking everyone’s ear off. He felt it was a good way to make some money or just occupy my time.

    What did you think?

    It made sense actually. His words got stuck in my head for weeks. And after my next horrible day at school, I decided to experiment with acting while I was trying to get into the College of Medicine for my second year at UNILAG. 

    What was the first thing you did while experimenting?

    I started following Nigerian production houses on social media and discovered that they usually posted open audition calls. It just made sense to me that to start acting I had to audition for roles, so I followed everyone from Africa Magic to EbonyLife. I followed producers too; from one producer’s page, I’d find another to follow. 

    Then, I followed young actors of that period. When I started, there was Olumide Oworu, Owumi Ugbeye who’d been on MTV Shuga — I just kept following everybody so I’d see every audition notice going out. Even though I didn’t immediately get roles, I learnt a lot from attending auditions and mingling with other aspiring actors who knew more than me. They’d give me the gist on what to do, what to look out for, who to meet and so on.

    How did all of that play out in landing your first role?

    I saw an audition notice for Tinsel in 2013. I didn’t get the part, but I got called back for Africa Magic Original Films [AMOF]. 

    When I saw the email, I actually thought it was a scam because I hadn’t heard of AMOF or attended an audition for it. I had to call one of my uncles in the industry to verify. Then I had my mum come with me for the first few reads — till today, crew members at different sets still ask me about her. 

    I worked on five or six AMOFs. And through them, I got on The Johnsons, guest-starring in a few episodes as the character, Abby. These first few acting experiences were an exciting adventure for my mum and I. My parents used to drive me around to set locations.

    What would you consider your big break into the acting industry?

    MTV Shuga in 2014. I was 18 at the time so bagging my role as Leila on a show that big at the beginning of my career was significant for me.

    How did that big break happen?

    One of the actresses I followed at the start of my career and I were working on a film together. In passing, I said I really liked her character on MTV Shuga, and it’d be nice if it had a new character I could play. Like two days later, she texted about an audition and asked me to send my details to an email address. I did that, got a reply and went in for a reading. In a matter of three or four days, I was cast as Leila. 

    Just like that? Did you have any formal training as an actor?

    No. Honestly, I was lucky.

    That’s pretty much how things started for me. I only had to do three or four open auditions after Shuga.

    Wait first. How was school going?

    For some reason, most of my auditions were in Surulere, Lagos, so it wasn’t hard to go for them from the College of Medicine. Max, one bus, one okada, and I’d be at any casting.

    It sounds like you were living a soft life

    LOL. Not on the days I had to find my way to Ikeja or Lekki though. I’d get to Ojuelegba underbridge and be clueless. Or sit in a bus and wait for it to get full before my 10 a.m. call. That’s when I started to get frustrated. I had to beg my parents to drive me to auditions until I could afford to take Uber.

    What’s the average amount of time you’d spend on set?

    For movies, two weeks at most, and I’d be on set ten out of 14 days. We’d shoot until we stopped, which meant several hours of shooting per day. 

    Only Shuga took longer than a month to shoot. I was in one season each, on the Naija version and on Down South. I was on set every other day for three weeks for the first, and in Jo’burg for five to six weeks for the second.

    How did things change after Shuga?

    I kept grinding in between filming. I had a 9-to-5 as a researcher at One Music, and I was still a student at the College of Medicine. It was really hard to keep up. I was also just figuring out my life as a teenager, making friends — which didn’t quite work out because I don’t have many friends. Then I was always sending emails and DMs to every big director and producer I admired, even Shonda Rhimes!

    But I got to a point where people would send me emails asking me to audition. A few months after we finished shooting Shuga, one of the producers cast me in her short film. Some months after that, I got calls from people I’d worked with on the set or I’d emailed earlier, who realised they had a role I was a good fit for.

    I moved from needing to attend open auditions to being invited for table reads or screen tests. Instead of walking in with 500 people hoping to get a role, I scaled through to a more selected phase with maybe 20 people. 

    Were the chances of getting a role much higher in a table read or screen test?

    Pretty much, but other upcoming actors get this access too. That makes it more competitive because you have to show what makes you special. Like why should it be Jemima and not the 20 other girls they know could play the character well too?

    And did you have an answer to that? 

    For me, it was talking to the right people. People you work with mention your name in the right rooms. 

    Every time I got on set, I made sure I interacted with the crew members, not just the actors. There’s a vast amount of knowledge you can get from them because production typically uses the same crew. These people have gone from one project to another amassing experience. I always stress them out with questions about things like cameras and lenses. And that’s one way to get informal training.

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    What’s another?

    Imagine being on a set with Kate Henshaw or Stella Damasus and not learning anything. I don’t have any shame in asking for help when I can’t connect with a character, for example. I remember meeting Adesua (Etomi-Wellington) on the set of MTV Shuga. We instantly clicked, and she’s been a strong support system ever since. She saw I was a young girl just trying to navigate the industry and could sense my silent cry for guidance, so she took me under her wing.

    She was fairly new to Nollywood, but she’d been doing theatre and a bunch of creative projects in the UK. She’d ask things like, “What do you think should be a priority at the beginning of your career?” “What are you trying to do?” and just genuinely be a friend I can call anytime. It’s necessary to surround yourself with good people who’ll keep you grounded and remind you of your purpose even when you forget. That’s who she is to me. Our relationship has just evolved and metamorphosed into many different things over the years. 

    I don’t think I could’ve come this far without the older women in the industry TBH. They tell you what they went through in old Nollywood and ways to skip all the stress. 

    And younger actresses?

    There’s a bunch of us that know we fall into the same criteria. If they’re not casting me then it’s Sharon Ooja, Tomike Alayande, Ini Dima-Okojie or maybe Efe Irele and a couple of others. It’s an unspoken thing, but we know ourselves. When a job comes, and one person isn’t available or interested, we refer each other.

    How do you manage the competition since you all fall into the same category?

    Being friends helps. My girls know how to stick together. And to make sure no one is getting the short end of the stick when jobs come. We know that for certain gigs within a certain duration, there’s a flat rate. No one goes below it. We basically set the standard for ourselves.

    Beyond networking, what skills did you have to pick up fast as your career took off with MTV Shuga

    Omo, so many things. I didn’t get a representative until 2020, so I had to learn how to multitask on a large scale. Sometimes, I had classes from 8 a.m. to 1 p.m., with a call time at 2 p.m. and Lagos traffic to beat. So if I allocate one hour to something, and someone shows up 30 minutes late, that’s not my business. In my head, I have 30 minutes left. Till today, I’m still my own manager.

    With the way things were going, why not just focus on acting?

    In Nigeria, acting can’t be the only thing you do for income and fulfilment. How many good films do we make in a year compared to the number of actors we have? You can’t be busy from January to December.

    Fair point

    Yeah. Getting to MTV Shuga took a year. For me, it didn’t feel like such a long time because school kept me busy. If acting were all I had, that would’ve been difficult.

    What happens when absolutely nothing works?

    That happened to me during the pandemic. I had to find ways to keep myself busy. That’s why I started a music trivia game on Instagram. But I also tried to get roles on TV series so I could shoot weekly, like a monthly subscription to being an actress.

    Let’s move to the medical side of things. Are you currently practising?

    Not for the past two months. I finished my NYSC in the first quarter of 2022 and took a break. Medical work in Nigeria is the ghetto. If you know people in the medical field, check up on them. Na them need mental help pass.

    LOL. What’s doing them?

    It’s so much work for such little pay and zero recognition. I’m at the point where I want to do it voluntarily, pick a few hospitals I’ll work at on the days I’m not filming. But for now, I’m on a break.

    I’m curious: how has being a health worker made you a better actress?

    Outside handling financial stress, the toughest part of being a health worker is seeing people die every day. Somehow, that’s helped me get into character without being so attached to the trauma I play, since it’s all fiction. It’s much more difficult when you actually know the person in reality.

    And how does it work the other way around?

    I’ve never thought about that. I think acting makes me a lot more sensitive and empathetic. Treating someone is very different from being able to become that person in your head and possibly picture your life like that. 

    Best in acting

    LOL. So even when I want to lose my cool with their family members — because patients are never really the issue — I can somehow put myself in their shoes. I guess that’s one of the ways being an actress helps my medical career.

    How do you manage to keep both careers apart?

    I don’t keep them apart o. My self-given nickname is “one true self”. I’m an acting physiotherapist, doctor-actress, health worker-entertainer, whatever version people prefer. I’m one person living the best of both worlds, that’s what makes me who I am. I’m currently doing a Master’s in Public Health, and people like to ask me what I need it for. I don’t have an answer for them. They should just watch and see.

    And how do you handle people recognising you when you’re in hospital mode?

    I actually prefer when people recognise me in the hospital than outside, on the streets, in the supermarket. It helps me cheer my patients up. It makes it easier to find a common ground with them, which is important in my line of health work. Apart from that, I’m a very public but private person. You’ll see me banter a lot on Twitter, or post random things when I’m in my lover girl stage, but I’m very deliberate with the details I share.

    What’s a trick every newbie needs to learn in the film industry?

    Characters become more challenging when you realise they’re not fictional. Anyone can read a script and have a flow. But sometimes, you have to create a backstory that helps you connect more with the character. That’s not something on a script. And that’s what some directors tell you to do, to actually become a character.

    What were some roles that put you to the test? 

    There was Nkem, the sex worker I played in The Delivery Boy in 2018. But one of the toughest characters I’ve played is Ranti from Rumour Has It in 2016. The babe was mean and controversial. I couldn’t play her until I could come up with a reason why someone could deliberately publish horrible stuff about their friends on a blog. Though there’s no justifiable reason to hurt people, giving her a defendable backstory helped me embody her character better. And that process makes it easier to get into challenging roles.

    I have to ask: what does it take to get to the level you’re at in the industry?

    Quality over quantity of films you shoot. And that’s why you need an extra source of income. But the best advice I received as a newbie was, “Never be afraid to take multiple cuts.” Because even when you think it’s perfect, a scene can always be better. 

    How do you know when to stop then?

    Sometimes, you just need to take multiple cuts to give the director different portrayal versions to choose from. You know when to stop by reading the room. People on set — the director, cinematographer, DOP — are very honest. If the cut is just there, it’d show on their faces. Or you could get a standing ovation because the take was just that good. You don’t have to wait for an ovation, but make sure everyone is satisfied before you stop. They’d even be the ones to reassure you that you don’t need another take.

  • The Best Place to Keep Money in Nigeria? We Ranked Them All

    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.

  • How to Argue Like a Nigerian Boss

    As a Nigerian living in Nigeria, you should be certain of two things. One: If you have light for three consecutive days, look for NEPA’s office and beg them to take the light. There’s a problem somewhere.

    Two: Typical Nigerian bosses are never wrong. Like, never. 

    The key to winning every argument is by using Nigerian boss tactics, and this article will teach you how.

    Make a decision

    For top points, pick the most unreasonable decision or opinion possible. For example, of course, one person should be able to do the work of five people without complaining. Are you asking for too much, or are they just not putting in the effort?

    Stand by it

    Channel your inner mountain and absolutely refuse to change your stance. It doesn’t matter if everyone around you is crying. You’ve made your decision, and changing it means you lose the argument. We don’t want that.

    Never accept defeat

    Even if the points against your argument are as bright as the Kaduna sun, refuse to be defeated. If they do too much, tell them, “I’ve been an expert in this field since before you were born”. That’ll show them.

    Intimidate others into silence

    Directly or indirectly threaten to show them shege if they dare question your authority. They’ll accept your every word as law.

    Play the boss card 

    If it looks like you’re losing, just say, “Do you know more than me?” but don’t even give them the space to answer. Just keep repeating that question.

    It’s like you know more than me, abi?


    RELATED: 9 Appropriate Responses to the Frustrating “Do You Know Who I Am”?


    Tell them you’ll consider it

    If the person has coconut head and still insists on making their opinions heard, tell them you’ll consider it. Then proceed to never think about it again.

    Say, “It’s against policy”

    And don’t bother to explain what policy you’re talking about. The point is, you know more than them, and they need to shut their face.

    Or just sack them

    How dare they question your irrational ways? If you can’t sack them because you’re not a Nigerian boss in real life, sack them from your life and keep it moving.


    ALSO READ: 9 Unmissable Signs That Your Nigerian Boss Is Clueless

  • Be Like Mudryk. Choose Money

    If you happened to stroll into football Twitter this past weekend, you’d know Mykhailo Mudryk went viral for his impressive €100 million (£88 million) Chelsea signing from Shakhtar Donetsk. 

    Another reason behind the plenty talk is Arsenal initially approached Mudryk’s club, Shakhtar, with £55 million, and then £62 million— the footballer had even accepted salary terms with the Gunners. But Chelsea swept in like a rich Nollywood sugar daddy, his club agreed, and the rest was history.

    Sure, all the money isn’t going to him, but Mudryk accepted his club’s decision and chose money. I may not know much about football, but I’m proud that he did. To my fellow 9-5ers, here’s why you should do as Mudryk did and always choose money.

    Account balances don’t recognise passion

    If it’s not the work of your village people, why would you have passion for a job that pays you ₦30k?

    It’s better to cry inside AC

    Every job will stress you. It’s better to cry inside an air-conditioned office and clean your tears with dollar bills than to motivate yourself with, “I love my job”.


    RELATED: Believing in Dream Jobs Is a Capitalist Trap


    Your coworkers don’t like you like that

    You think your team is your “family”, but even your work spouse would leave you in an instant if another job promises to 2x their salary. Don’t play yourself.

    Neither does your boss

    Especially if they always motivate the team to “believe in the collective dream”. Let someone else shove money in their face first.

    The economy is economying

    Everything is expensive. The noodles you bought for ₦100 yesterday can be ₦500 tomorrow. Do you get where I’m going with this?

    Bad bitches are rich bitches

    How do you want to reach the full extent of your bad bitchery with only ₦5k in your account two days after payday?

    Don’t you want to be a baller?

    Because why are you even choosing anything over money? 


    NEXT READ: Now That You Have Money, Do These Things to Stay Humble

  • Believing in Dream Jobs Is a Capitalist Trap

    If there’s one career advice we get all the time, it’s either, “Do what you love, so you never have to work a day in your life” or “Follow your passion”. These statements are tied to the notion that people should do anything to get a particular job that’d make them happy and fulfilled — the proverbial “dream job”.

    I’ve always thought the concept of a dream job is just another ploy to keep you shackled to the chains of capitalism. Why should you dream of working every day of your active life for fulfilment? 

    Don’t take it from me. These Nigerian professionals share similar sentiments as they tell us why they stopped believing in dream jobs.

    “I do love my job, but it’s just not enough.”

    — Damian*, 32

    I grew up in a typical Nigerian home, where the dad was always working and the mum was a stay-at-home carer. My dad took great pride in his work, and we didn’t lack anything, so I grew up believing all I had to do as a man was my best work and everything else would fall into place.

    My dream job was to be a banker like my dad, and I did everything possible to make sure I achieved it. I’m the assistant branch manager at a commercial bank now, but I feel like I’m living my life for someone else. 

    I work so hard every day, telling myself I chose this life. I do love my job, but it’s just not enough. I hardly have time to even think about other things I might enjoy, and at the end of the day, no one gives a shit about you. You can drop dead one minute, and work will continue the next. Is that life?

    “Every job fuels capitalism”

    — Clarissa*, 27

    I’ll admit I once believed in a “dream job” that had to be the end goal if you wanted to feel like you’ve achieved a successful career. Mine wasn’t a specific role; it just had to be something that paid me in dollars.

    I got the dollar-paying job in 2021 and felt good for a while, but capitalism is still capitalism. It’s still the same mind-numbing work that takes over your life. Every job fuels capitalism. The only difference is the amount of money you choose to sell your freedom for. 

    “Dream jobs don’t necessarily pay the bills”

    — Obed*, 29

    When I hear “dream job”, I think “follow your passion”. I followed my passion for a while by studying veterinary medicine in university, but omo, I came out and saw that the economy wasn’t smiling. There aren’t enough opportunities for vets in Nigeria. Me, I’ve changed my passion to what can feed me, please.

    “The idea just benefits employers”

    — Olanna*, 25

    I believed that for someone to enjoy working, they had to really love their jobs, so any job that’d make me absolutely love working was meant to be my dream job.

    But I have better sense now, and I realise that idea just benefits employers. They encourage you to put in your all to gain “fulfilment” and “change the world”, but they’re the ones who largely benefit from your hard work. No one really loves working. We just do it because we have to.

    I’m not saying, don’t like your job. Heck, you have to, or else you’d be miserable all your life. But just do what you can and throw away any notion that you’re indispensable. To your employer, everyone is dispensable. 


    RELATED: I Love My Job, But I Hate The Fact That I Have to Work


    “Not everyone has the luxury for it”

    — Dana*, 32

    Not everyone has the luxury of pursuing their dreams or jobs they supposedly have passion for, especially in Nigeria. I believed in dream jobs as a young university leaver, but life has shown me we don’t always get to choose what we love. So, what’s the point of believing in it? 

    Employers don’t even care whether you love the job or not. As long as you’re doing what they paid you for, it’s not their business.

    “A job is just a job”

    — Anita*, 26

    Just like characters in romance novels, I used to believe there was a career path that was “the one” for me. But I’ve pivoted from health to human resources and now administration. I’ve realised there’s no one job that makes me feel fulfilled. As long as I keep doing good work, and my salary helps ease my stress, I’m fine. A job is just a job. We weren’t put on this earth to focus our energies on finding one dream job.

    “Money is my own dream”

    — Dotun*, 36

    I was guilty of telling people to follow their passion, but getting married and having children made me realise money is my own dream.

    I followed my passion by starting my career in journalism, but the work environment and challenges that came with it aren’t for the weak. Plus, it doesn’t pay too well.  When I got the opportunity to move into tech, I did. Now, I tell people not to be boxed into a corner by the idea of a dream job. Dreams can change, and they can be fuelled by anything. 

    What if your “dream job” is killing you or can’t pay your bills? Better dream again.


    *Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.


    NEXT READ: How to Work When Work Is the Last Thing on Your Mind

  • 11 Sure-fire Ways to Make Any Work Meeting Awkward

    Work meetings are mostly unnecessary. Why do we need a 30-minute meeting to discuss the number of meetings we have in a week? Why do we need to do daily standups to talk about what we’re doing that day? Why do we need to meet to discuss my performance over the past six months? All these things can easily be said in emails. 

    If you want to ensure nobody invites you to meetings anymore, do these things. 

    Note: You might get fired. But at least, you won’t have meetings when you’re unemployed, so win-win. 

    Interrupt and talk over others

    Don’t let anyone complete a sentence without butting in to say something off-topic. Once you do this five times in 30-minute meetings for one month straight, nobody will invite you to meetings again. This one is tried and tested.

    Unmute your mic and share nasty office gist in the background

    Don’t forget to shout, “Oh my God. I was unmuted?” after someone brings to your attention that you’ve just told the entire team the CEO has been sleeping with interns. 

    Use porn as your video background

    If it’s an online meeting, and they insist everyone has to put their videos on, just use porn as your video background and say you don’t know how to change it. Nobody is inviting you to meeting again. 

    Make up words and use them repeatedly

    When they eventually ask you the meaning of the word, insist that it’s industrial jargon. The fact that they don’t know it means they’re not up to date on industry standards.

    Eat noisily during the meeting

    If it’s an in-person meeting, fufu and efo riro is perfect. If it’s a video call, messily eat shawarma. But whatever you eat, eat loudly. 

    Bring a pet and treat it as a “co-worker” participating in the meeting

    When you’re done speaking, look to your dog and say, “So Jack, anything for us?” Then laugh for like one minute straight. Nobody will call you to a meeting again, walahi. 

    Randomly share personal information

    When it’s your turn to speak about your weekend, go into detail about how it was a bad weekend because you couldn’t last more than three minutes in bed even though your therapist said you should think about your dead grandma while having sex. That’ll be a great way to start the meeting. 

    Use a voice changer

    Imagine you’re at your appraisal and you sound like one of the chipmunks from Alvin and the Chipmunks. Sounds fun, no?

    Share your screen and open a video that’s loud and inappropriate

    May we suggest sites where you can find these?

    Speak in a poorly-done accent throughout the meeting

    How’s your Russian accent? Work calls are a great time to practice. 

    Put your camera on then leave the room

    Let your coworkers speak to a chair. 

  • How to Work When Work Is the Last Thing on Your Mind

    Unfortunately for you, work has resumed. Since you can’t manufacture a public holiday, it’s time to do the job you’re paid to do.

    God, abeg

    But how do you work when every cell in your body either wants to rewind time so it’s December again, or fast-forward it to payday? Just use these tips.

    Start counting the days

    Anytime you get tired of work, remember you’re a few more hours closer to salary day. 

    Throw in pointless office lingo

    Because what says performance-driven employee like throwing words like “bandwidth”, “circle back” or “drill down”? It doesn’t even need to relate to the subject matter. Just say it so it sounds like your mind is on your job.

    Look serious

    Even though you aren’t currently doing anything, everyone will think you’re brainstorming the next big idea. 

    Blame MTN and their cohorts

    I’m not saying you should use bad internet as an excuse for not doing your work o. But it’s not within your control, abi? 

    Set up meetings

    You don’t even need an agenda. Everyone knows most meetings are just a waste of time. You can even say the purpose is for everyone to share what they learnt during the holidays. That should knock at least two hours off the day.

    Just look busy

    If you need to @channel on Slack for no reason, or walk up and down your office to look busy, just do it. Others may call it eye service, but you’re just protecting your job.

    Remember the state of your account balance

    Can you really afford to leave your job? We’ll leave you to answer that yourself.

    Beg God to let you blow this year

    At the end of the day, who even likes working? Just blow so you can tell your oga to eat their job.


    NEXT READ: How to Play Nigerian Office Politics and Win

  • This One Will Hit Close to Home if You’ve Already Resumed Work for the Year

    If you work at a capitalist evil enterprise and have already resumed for the year, I stand with you. Today is JANUARY 5th. Tell me, why I’m hopping on a quick call with Dammy to discuss (admittedly exciting) plans for Q1. I’m meant to be in the bosom of my lover, reminiscing on the past few weeks of holiday. What happened to resuming on the 9th, an actual Monday?

    If you too have already resumed, you’d relate to these a bit too much. 

    This was you in December when they announced what date you’d resume in January

    January 2nd? No wahala. When we get to that bridge, we’ll cross it. Let’s close for the year first. 

    Then the day drew closer, and you began to realise

    Wait o. January 2nd??? These people don’t even want us to enter the new year properly. 

    This was you the night before

    God, abeg, don’t let tomorrow come.

    And the morning of resumption 

    What am I even doing with my life, oh God?

    You trying to remember your Gmail password

    ÏHateCap!talisM101″

    When you hear your Slack notification sound 

    This thing can give someone PTSD.

    This is you in traffic, wondering if you’re really going to do this for the rest of your life

    ​​

    The answer is yes.

    When you look at the Calendar and see there’s no public holiday until April

    We actually need to discuss this. 

    On top of that, you’re broke, and salary is still three weeks away

    Time out, abeg. Is this money thing even worth it?

  • The 8 Stages of Resuming Work After the Holidays

    The time every capitalist slave dreads is finally here. The holidays are ending, and your owner, capitalism, is about to take over.

    Let’s take you through all the stages and emotions you’ll experience in the coming days.

    At first, you’ll be indifferent

    You’ve just been sleeping and eating for a while now, and work is the last thing on your mind… if it’s even on your mind at all.

    Then, reality starts to kick in

    Your office is already sending you season’s greetings and “can’t wait to see you at the office” messages. How many days was the holiday sef?

    You start considering your options

    You start thinking of excuses to stretch your holiday as much as possible. What if you tell oga that the only filling station in your village burned down and there’s no fuel for buses to travel back to your city? They should understand.

    Before realising you have no choice

    Because no matter what excuses you give, capitalism always wins. Unless you don’t have issues with poverty or sleeping under the bridge.

    Cue in anger

    Then you start blaming everyone and anyone for your predicament. Who even decided people have to work to survive? Whose ancestor invented work, and why do we have to suffer because of that?

    You finally resume

    And paste on fake smiles when the office oversabi starts talking about how much they missed everyone at the office. Stop it, Sandra. We know you’re lying.

    And embrace fake humility

    Have you forgotten it’s January? No buying of unnecessary amala at lunch. Better hide somewhere and drink your garri in peace if you want to survive the coming days.

    Start counting down to the next holiday

    How can the next holiday be all the way in April? Why isn’t Valentine’s Day a public holiday? Don’t we all need time off to celebrate the power of love?


    NEXT READ: Why the Federal Government Needs to Give Us More Public Holidays

  • 7 Business Ideas to Consider This December

    It’s December, and there’s money to be made. Become a sinzu money yourself by starting a business around one of these ideas.

    Sell bangers

    How will people in the neighbourhood know December has arrived if they don’t hear the sound of bangers? It’s banger month once again. If you can supply neighbourhoods with bangers, you’d make some of the December funds you need.

    Sell Christmas caps

    If the violence of bangers is too much for you to handle, you can start selling Christmas caps and balloons on the side to complement it.

    Become a Father Christmas

    Offer yourself as a Father Christmas at a bunch of schools, and you’ll find yourself with a booming business. All you need to do is dance leg work in your costume to impress the kids.

    Become a Bolt driver

    Lagos traffic will deal with people this December, but you’ll eat good if you start your career as a Bolt driver for the month. Drive people to their December hangout locations and fake sympathy for them when you run into traffic, even though you know what it means for your pocket.

    Resell concert tickets

    Even though people are screaming that concert tickets are expensive, we all know they’ll still pay. Buy all the tickets now and start selling them to people at higher prices. If you don’t know how to start, here’s a guide.

    Sell chicken

    Christmas chicken is still all the rave for some people, so you can start your own cashout by raising and selling the. Carpe diem.

    Boyfriend/girlfriend-for-hire

    Nobody wants to be alone during the Christmas holiday, especially not for crossover night, and that’s your business opportunity. The only problem is you can’t be in many places at once.


    NEXT READ: 8 Ways to Make Next Year’s Rent This December


  • December Is a Bittersweet Month for 9–5ers, According to Yetunde

    It’s the end of the year, and while some of us are trying to figure out how to detty December on a mechanic’s budget, 9-5ers are experiencing a different kind of hell.

    Don’t get me wrong. The average 9-5er looks forward to the holidays — just imagining meeting-free days and festive hampers can make one go weak in the knees — but most also agree December is the most scattered month of the year.

    I spoke with Yetunde Dada, a business consultant at a human resources consulting and recruitment firm in Lagos, and she gave me the lowdown on why the season isn’t so jolly for 9-5ers.

    The work never really stops

    You’d think the year ending means work will reduce and everyone can coast into the new year. Heck no. If anything, work seems to have doubled because bosses want to end the year with a “big bang”. Whatever that means.

    But many people start closing mentally

    If you think about it, maybe it’s just the Detty December state of mind that makes it seem like the work has increased. Imagine putting Christmas funds calculations and work in the same head.

    “We’ll revisit this next year”

    This suddenly becomes everyone’s motto. Faulty water dispenser at the office? “We’ll revisit it next year.” We need to settle the contracts for the new hires? “Oh, next year!”

    You begin to wonder who’ll do all the work we pushed to next year.

    Gift planning is the ghetto

    Of course, you have to send gifts to the clients who worked with you throughout the year, and deciding on what gift to give will take approximately 50 wasted meeting hours. Add that to the regular work you’re still expected to do.

    End-of-year parties nko?

    Don’t get me started on the parties and “team bonding” sessions. Sure, it’s great to eat and enjoy your life at your employer’s expense, but God help you if you’re part of the planning committee. By the time you use three meetings to decide on the party’s theme, you’ll be tempted to punch something. Or someone.

    Closing out for the year… or not

    Most offices do this thing where they close for the year but only close the office. You can be cooking Christmas rice when you’re suddenly called into a meeting. Anything for the client, right?

    It’s too damn brief

    After all the wahala, you only get like one week of sanity before the madness starts again. Is it really worth it?

    January poverty

    Most importantly, everyone tries to ignore the fact that their salary might not smell January, and January has two million days. Because if you think about it, you’d just cry.


    NEXT READ: Capitalism Wrapped: How’s Your Work Life Been This Year?

  • What’s Stressing These New Lawyers About the Call to Bar Process?
    Image Source: NAN

    It’s law school graduation season again. Every year, thousands of new lawyers graduate from the Nigerian Law School to begin their careers, after at least six years of hard work and grit. You must’ve seen all the beautiful pictures of people in lawyer outfits accompanied by congratulatory messages. 

    But do you know what they go through to register for the call to bar?

    These lawyers tell us.

    Toluwani* — Nothing prepared me for it

    Nothing prepared me for how horrendous my Call to Bar registration was. The processes were way too many and unnecessary. We had to take a slip to some office to stamp, make photocopies, visit the supreme court twice, and so much more. Thinking about it now is even stressing me. These things could’ve been done online na. 

    I couldn’t finish the entire process in one day because of the queues. Not queues, crowds. Everything was disorganised. At some point, I saw myself climbing a gate just so someone on the other side could attend to me and stamp my slip. There was broken glass on the floor at some point. After like two hours, I left the crowd to go and cry in a secluded place. I had a moment of reflection like, “Na me be this?” Was I really going through all this because I wanted to be called to bar? Well, yes. 

    In the middle of my tears, my boyfriend called me, and I couldn’t even hold myself together. I was just crying to him on the phone. After sitting for another two hours, I decided to go back to the crowd and saw they’d attended to a few people who were standing around the the gate I climbed. It pained me because if I was still there, maybe they’d have attended to me. But I decided I couldn’t stress myself again — it was time to go home. 

    But God did a miracle. As I was leaving, I saw a guy and asked if he’d got his stamp. He said yes, so I asked him if he could help me submit my slip for stamping. In my mind, I was going to collect it the next day. But ten minutes later, on my way home, he called me to collect my slip. How he did it, I don’t know. People who’d submitted their slip three to four hours earlier hadn’t collected theirs yet.

    Chigoziem* — After all the wahala, you’d think there’d be a benchmark salary for practising lawyers

    Let me start with the expenses. After you’ve managed to survive law school, which in itself is a miracle, the billing starts. First, we pay a ₦30k registration fee to the Nigerian Body of Benchers. Then there’s the ₦10k alumni fee, ₦5k practising fee, flight ticket money, photoshoot money and the cost of a wig and gown — ₦30k for the ones with terrible quality. Everyone also has to house themselves in Abuja for a couple of weeks. Think of the people who struggled to afford the ∼₦300k law school fees. Now, they have to spend at least ₦250k to be called to bar. How do they want to do it?

    Kenny* — I want to advise anyone willing to listen: don’t go to law school in Nigeria

    Bro, it was rough. I don’t even know what other word to use. I don’t understand how they don’t have a more effective way of passing people out of the Nigerian Law School after all these years. I saw people get injured, man. It was terrible. 

    You know what crossed my mind as I went through this ordeal? “And some people will still enter Law School this year. This is what they’ll face when they’re done? God forbid.” See, if you can, don’t study law in Nigeria. And if you’re already studying law, don’t go to Nigerian Law School. From the school itself to the process of graduating, everything is 0/10. I don’t recommend. 

    Tolu* — I don’t think it was rowdy. It was just stressful

    The amount of travelling I’ve done within Abuja in the past couple of days, ehn? It’s plenty. Law school, where we did all our processing and stamping is in Bwari, on the outskirts of Abuja. You’d have to travel almost two hours to get there from central Abuja, spend the entire day there, and if you’re not done, come back the next day. Then after you finish, you take a slip to the Supreme Court and return to collect the final certificate.

    In my experience, there were lines and many people attended to us, so it wasn’t rowdy like I heard others say, but I was stressed because of the many processes. And it was expensive — flying to Abuja on such short notice and paying many fees. 

    Isa* — Can they do better with information?

    First of all, there isn’t readily available information about what we should do and where. They released the Call to Bar registration schedule on November 22nd, and I was scheduled for November 28th. I had to be in Abuja in six days. Have you seen the flight prices? I pity people who had to do theirs on the 26th. 

    Another thing that stressed me was we had to pay the Body of Benchers fee over the bank counter. Why couldn’t we just transfer to the account? When I got to Abuja, I heard I could’ve done it over POS anywhere. If you see the number of people who were disgusted to find out they’d wasted their time. 

    I got to Law School on November 28th to submit documents we’d already submitted online, and they told me I was scheduled for 26th, so I’d missed my date. Ehn? I showed them the schedule that showed it was 28th, they showed me their own that said 26th. That’s how we started back-and-forth. I had to go to Student Council office; they were clueless. ICT said they were working on it. I went to Bwari from town everyday till December 2nd. Do you know how far Bwari is?

    They sha finally said I could start processing because it was a problem from their end. The process itself? Very rowdy. The Nigerian in me had to come out. We pushed, struggled and did all sorts. I had to throw “fine girl” out the window. 

    At various points, you’d see people sitting in corners, looking defeated. It was a lot, but I sha got my qualifying certificate in the evening, after getting there in the morning and went to submit it at the Supreme Court before returning for my invitation to the call to bar ceremony. In truth, most of it could’ve been done online. 

    The Call to Bar — the ceremony where we’re officially qualified to practice law — itself was okay. We weren’t allowed to big earrings or makeup, and we had to dress “modestly”. 


    *Names have been changed for anonymity.

  • These Are the Next Best Jobs After Being Paid to Sleep

    TBH, no normal person looks forward to being bound by capitalism. But mans gotta eat, and since we all can’t get paid to sleep, these jobs are the next best thing.

    Local government chairman

    This will just be like you’re being paid to sleep. When has your local government chairman ever been “on seat”?

    President

    Imagine being the number one citizen. You can even decide to eat jollof for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Side effects include being dragged if you don’t do your work sha.  

    Tech person

    Sure, your neighbours may think you’re jobless if you work from home, but you’d have the account of a baller and the bragging rights only a tech career can give. Sounds like a win to me.

    Zikoko writer

    What other job allows you to wake up and decide to ask people what type of bread they are?

    Bank official

    Just so you can walk around the banking hall for no reason, and play Solitaire on your computer, while ignoring angry customers.

    Owambe food server

    You haven’t tasted real power until you get to decide who eats at an owambe.

    Twitter CEO

    Forget working up from the bottom. Make sure you start right at the top as CEO, so you can bag the most coins.

    If that doesn’t work out, you can always just choose the become-a-tech-person option we mentioned earlier.

    Moringa School is offering soon-to-be techies the opportunity to learn the fundamentals of front-end web development. If you’re interested in software development and improving your tech skills, then they’ve got the perfect option for you. 

    Apply now to get your tech career started.

  • What People Don’t Get About Your Job — A Week in the Life Special

    In this special edition of the A Week in the Life series, we ask professionals what people don’t understand or appreciate about their job. 

    We explore the common stereotypes around certain jobs and celebrate the hard work people put in to win their daily bread. These are our favourite replies.

    Banker

    People think [Nigerian] bankers are broke, but we aren’t. You earn fairly well if you’re not a contract staff. A week in my life involves meetings for our digital products, business and marketing meetings, reviewing designs, sending out briefs and endless marketing strategy documents. The first thing I do during salary week is settle my PiggyVest and splurge on my mum.

    Pastor

    People expect me to be an assistant God who’s always available and perfect. They can’t deal with the fact that Pastor can’t always come to name their child, visit them at the hospital, pick up their calls at odd times, heal them of sicknesses, meet all the financial needs they discussed with him, etc. They also find it awkward that Pastor can get angry, tempted and broke. 

    There was a time my wife had a miscarriage and needed to be admitted for days in the hospital. Members still called me for prayers and assistance. All I got was, “Heeya. Sorry, sir. It is well.” Nobody thinks pastors need prayer, encouragement or financial support. 

    A typical week involves meetings, prayers and services. On Sundays, I fast and host Sunday service in church. I rest on Mondays and enjoy quality family time. For the rest of the week, I visit members and prepare my sermons.

    Human resources manager (HR)

    People often think HR’s primary job is to hire and fire people, so if you want to get a job in a company, just send them your CV and the job is yours. They also believe HRs are superhuman and emotionless people. But since  we’re exposed to many issues that require us to keep secrets, we can break down just like others employees.

    Also, we don’t hire and fire. We guide hiring managers through the process of identifying the best candidates and support them along the way. HR has no authority to hire or fire anyone; that’s usually a joint conversation between two or more parties.

    Chief Executive Officer (CEO)

    People simply don’t understand that we never have time.

    Tech Journalist

    People always think the media should be a PR extension of the tech ecosystem. But the ecosystem is still nascent and the media is expected to be its cheerleader, so I understand. A typical week in my life involves way too many calls and meetings, chasing deadlines and pursuing people who’d rather not talk to me.

    Salesperson

    People just think salespeople are naturally extroverted. Outside of work, I’m an introvert. I don’t like being in positions where I need to ask people for things. But because I’m a salesperson, I have to create a separate character while at work, be friendly and light rooms up. All the while, I really just want to make money, go home and take off my mask.

    I’m a team leader, so a typical week in my life is defined by planning, management meetings and team check-ins. I also spend a lot of time pitching to clients, chasing after people who’re ignoring me or owing me. I’m usually drained by Wednesday because I’m always working extra hours.

    Graphic artist

    One thing people don’t understand or appreciate about my job is the extensive research that goes into creating a logo or drawing an illustration. Most people think it’s just to “press computer” or it takes less than a day to complete, but nothing could be further from the truth. To work on a design project, I often have to spend hours researching and gathering source materials. Sometimes, I pay for information if Google or Wikipedia doesn’t have enough. I also travel a lot, especially if I need to experience an environment, culture or architecture. One time, I went to Timbuktu while I was drawing backgrounds for an animated project.

    People greatly underrate the amount of work a single design or illustration can take. And a few people believe I need money to start a project just because I’m designing on my laptop. A typical week in my life has me working three days of intense focused work then lazying around playing video games, watching anime and just chilling. This life na one.

    Data analyst

    You’d think my days involve sitting in front of multiple screens, analysing and visualising large data sets or doing some complicated maths shit. Sike. About 45% of my working hours go to mundane stuff like attending meetings. Some days are exciting; many, not so much.

    People also underestimate the amount of time analysts spend doing research, especially in Nigeria because most times, na you go find the data you wan analyse. You’ll also need to know how to write and speak well because we do a lot of communication.

    People think I’m a baller, but in my first data analyst role, I was being paid ₦‎60k. This was around 2019. My last salary was around ₦‎750k (I’m in between jobs now). So the idea that we get paid loads of money is not entirely true. You can land a good gig from the first go or you can progress through roles to get to one.

    Public health worker

    Many people expect because I work in a non-governmental organisation, I touch people’s lives and change the world. The truth is a huge part of community development is drudgery, boring repetitive administrative tasks. People over-glamourise the work. Leading policy formulation and getting the Nigerian government to enact helpful policies reads well on paper. In reality, it just means dealing with politicians and government officials who don’t give a shit.

    There’s also the idea that we have plenty money. Na lie. Because it’s an extremely specialised field, you must’ve worked for many years and gotten advanced degrees before you start to touch money. Will I confess this on LinkedIn? No. A typical week in my life involves planning and a shitload of meetings with government officials while keeping my temper in check.

    Computer Village vendor

    People think we make huge amounts off each gadget sale, so we have a lot of money to throw about. Shey you dey whyne me? I won’t blame them sha. It’s the people who are “carting” I blame. Carting is when Yahoo boys get iPhones through their “clients”, and since they’re only after money, sell them to gadget vendors at a low cost. The vendors then sell to buyers at market rates, so you can imagine the profit.

    I heard that a Computer Village vendor was killed at a party early this year [2022] because he was carting. The market is filled with fraudsters. Sellers don plenty pass buyers. 

    A week in my life involves selling gadgets, tracking orders, surviving the chaos of Computer Village and praying to God to avoid problem customers. 

    Thrift vendor

    People assume thrift clothes are bad quality. But I’ve managed to change my customers’ perceptions. They can be clean and classy, as some of the clothes come with tags while some are in branded packaging.

    A typical week in my life goes like this:

    Mondays: I travel from Abeokuta to Lagos to stock up on new arrivals. Then, I go to the park to dispatch previous orders nationwide. 

    Tuesday: I sort the clothes I’ll sell for the week and iron them.

    Wednesdays: I take photos of new arrivals, attach their prices and post them on my social media pages. This process takes about six to eight hours.

    Thursdays: I send out new orders for deliveries. Later, I iron the clothes I’ll post on Friday. 

    Friday: I snap the remaining clothes, attach their sizes and post them on my page.

    Saturday: I take inventory, balance my books and sort out new orders ahead of Monday.

    Sunday: I post more new arrivals. In the evenings, I rest or go out to catch my breath.

    Creative strategist

    “Ah, so you design and make videos. Like, the ‘creative’ things”. In reality, my role covers everything from market intelligence and research to program design, stakeholder engagement and more. When I try to explain stakeholder engagement, people reduce it to “public relations” or “Na just PR na”. I facepalm every time.

    I work from home except on Tuesdays, so a typical week in my life is simple. Monday to Friday: work, work, work. Saturdays: movies, washing, cooking, and  sometimes, more work. Sundays: church, cooking and work.About a year ago, weekends were my opportunity to take photos for fun and edit them for fun. But I’ve found going out more tedious than usual. But what I never skip is listening to music at night. I’m an audiophile, so listening to good music on good devices matters.


    Check back for new A Week in the Life stories every first Tuesday of the month at 9 a.m. If you’d like to be featured on the series, or you know anyone interesting who fits the profile, fill out this form.

  • How to Play Nigerian Office Politics and Win

    If you haven’t noticed already, typical Nigerian offices are mini Nigerian governments — everyone’s trying their darnedest to be the top players of the game.

    To play office politics and win, you need a particular set of skills, and we’ve got you.

    Embrace passive-aggressiveness

    God forbid you’re upset and are actually upfront about it. You want to lose your job? It doesn’t matter if Amaka asks you for a document you’ve already sent 200 times before, or your oga keeps fixing pointless meetings. Hug passive-aggressiveness. It’ll save you.

    Just smile

    Especially if you have nothing to be happy about. Do you want to be accused of having “low energy”?

    Do oversabi once in a while

    Forget whatever you believe. Eye service is very important in a Nigerian workplace. How else do you want to show you carry the work on your head?

    Learn to keep quiet

    You want to be visible, not known as the office “radio without battery”. 

    …and mind your business

    Don’t go about announcing how you saw oga looking for ants inside his secretary’s mouth, or how Banke was watching “Blood and Water” with office WiFi. 

    But not all the time sha

    Not when you need people to know you helped oga prepare the presentation everyone’s raving about. Blow other people’s trumpet too. Everyone likes whoever makes them feel good.

    It’s all in the balance

    Be serious, but not too serious. Your boss needs to know you’re working, but your colleagues shouldn’t hate you for being too excellent. Figure it out.

    Keep your personality at home

    If you’re an introvert, better borrow a sprinkle of extraversion when it’s time for work. If you’re an extrovert, learn to hold your mouth small. You don’t want your superiors to think you’re hoarding the spotlight.

    And finally, don’t care about money

    Because aren’t you working because of “passion”? Don’t join others to agitate for a salary increase. Even if you get promoted, don’t even mention salary. Use the “employee of the year” award you’ll get after following these rules to buy bread at the market.


    NEXT READ: 8 Ways Working in Local Government is Better Than Tech

  • 8 Ways Working in Local Government is Better Than Tech

    Don’t think because all your mates are working in tech, it’s the only way to make money in this life. We’re here to tell you to shine your eyes. No need to have all that burnout when you can be relaxed. 

    Nobody will lay you off

    Whether you do nonsense, there’s a change in government, there’s inflation, the stock markets are crashing or the world is burning, your job is your job. Abi, don’t you like job security?

    Working hours are whatever you decide

    Have you ever been to a local government office at 2 p.m.? Nobody is ever on seat. They just show up by 11 a.m., send someone to buy amala, and when they’re done eating, go home. But you’re there working from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m. because you’re “building”. Okay o. 

    You always have someone to send on errands

    There’s always a youth corper you can send to buy food for you. Always. Can you send your tech colleagues on errands? Do you want them to drag you on Twitter for being a bad boss? 

    You don’t work remotely

    Let’s not lie: we’re all tired of remote work. Being at home alone and in front of your computer all day is boring. Humans were not created to live like this. Local government work will have you entering public transport like it’s 2013 again. What a way to feel alive. 

    You don’t really need skills

    What skills do you need to sort files and tell people to come back tomorrow? Zero. And you’ll collect a salary. Seems like a win-win to me. 

    The office politics is sweet

    Today, you’ll hear someone jazzed someone because of a promotion; tomorrow, another person is sleeping with oga’s wife. Stories for days. What stories do you hear in your startup? 

    You can make more than your salary 😉

    We don’t support corruption and misappropriation of funds o. We don’t even know how this point entered our article. 

    KPIs and OKRs? What’s that?

    Nobody is setting any smelling goals and reviewing them every six months. What’s that, please? Just come to work, vibe and go home. Peace be unto you. 


    These Are the Only Jobs That Should Require More Than Two Interview Stages

  • How to Actually Make Money on YouTube, According to Eric Okafor

    YouTube is a different world. What other channel allows you to study a full-on degree right there on the site and gives you mad laughs at the same time? 

    Funny accents aside, you can’t deny there’s mad money to be made on the social platform. In an economy which has its currency fighting for its life, more people are seeking ways to make money online, and YouTube is one such legitimate avenue. 

    We spoke to Eric Okafor, AKA Knewkeed, a YouTuber who specialises in tech reviews, and he shared pointers on how to get that YouTube money.

    First of all, have a niche

    Don’t just create a YouTube channel for the sake of it. People will watch your videos and come to your channel because you’re providing something specific, solving a problem and creating value. 

    Starting YouTube without a niche will force you to rely on your personality outside of YouTube. This might work if you have the right vibes or are already well-known because of your lifestyle. In this case, people come to you because you pass a vibe check. Of course, this won’t work for everybody. So, find something you’re super passionate about, and say what you have to say in your voice.

    Small note, though: Having a niche doesn’t mean you’d be the first to do something in that line. Others will have done it, but what’ll help you stand out is your unique way of delivering the content. Do you, boo.


    RELATED: In Just Two Years, This UI/UX Designer’s Income Has Gone From ₦120k to Over ₦3m


    Pay attention to the algorithm

    Many people assume YouTube is exclusive to big-shot production companies, or professional content creators who can afford excellent production or sound quality. It’s not.

    In fact, Youtube is moving rapidly to Shorts — short-form video content typically shot with mobile phones — and it’s all the rage now. 

    Understand your audience

    Yes, the algorithm favours YouTube Shorts more now, but for someone just starting out on YouTube, you’ll need to find out what your audience wants before churning out any type of content.

    For a particular niche, your audience may prefer long-form videos.

    Interestingly, long-form content is more likely to get you a hard-core audience who’ll actually get to know you.

    Get into the YouTube Partner Program

    To get monetised on YouTube, you need to hold consistency tight. 

    Hold it oo

    The YouTube Partner Program specifies that long-form content creators need to have at least 4,000 watch hours and 1,000 subscribers before they can get paid for their content.

    YouTube will monetise short-form content (AKA YouTube Shorts) around January or February 2023, and you’ll need about 10 million views in the last three months to qualify. It sounds like a lot, but a tip is to choose one of your video content that people like, then cut it into bite-sized content and share one at a time to keep people expectant.

    You can always check your analytics to keep track of how many watch hours you need to complete and the needed subscriber count to get there.

    Start getting paid

    Once you cross the requirement hurdle, you start getting paid for the ads run in your videos. PS: You’ll still get ads in your videos before you’re monetised. You just won’t get paid for them.

    You say what?

    Once monetised, the amount paid per ad differs based on the party pushing out the ad, whether your subscribers watch the ad to the end or click a link. 

    To receive your money, you’ll be required to fill out a form with your naira or dollar account details and fix a threshold for when you want your money to be sent to you. The least threshold is about $100, so you won’t get paid until your earnings accumulate into that amount. It’s quite straightforward.

    There’s tax on it, though, if you have people watching from the United States. You’ll fill out something called a W-8 tax form, and they typically take out 38-40% of your monetised US playback.

    Other ways to get your YouTube bag

    Super Likes and Super Thanks

    YouTube is doing this new thing where viewers can show they really enjoy your content by giving a Super Like or Super Thanks. They do this by buying a fun animation to make their comments stand out on the creator’s page, and YouTube gives the creator a revenue percentage (around 70%). 

    Brand sponsorships

    Once you’ve cracked viewer engagement and show up every day, brands will notice you, and this is a major revenue stream. Brands that advertise on YouTube most likely have a lot of money to spend, so secure that bag.

    Membership

    You can also get your subscribers to become paid members in return for exclusive access to premium content. Of course, you’ll need to have a fully engaged audience for this to work.

    Don’t forget merch

    Multiple websites allow creators to design and sell merch, giving these creators a cut of the generated revenue. Now, though, people just create their own websites to maximise profit.

    Learn, learn and learn some more

    At the end of the day, almost every content creator is self-taught. You have to be deliberate about learning. Make YouTube your number-one resource for learning how to make your channel work. If you’d rather pay to be a pro at your craft, it’s much better to seek out those who’ve made a name for themselves on the very platform — in this case, YouTube — you want to succeed in. 

    You may get offers from Multi-Channel Networks (MCN) to help you grow your channel — and get a revenue share — but I haven’t found them to be very useful. Some other creators have said the same thing. So, if MCN comes, make sure to read between the lines and enter with your eyes wide open.


    NEXT READ: 5 Nigerian Women Talk About Making Money Online

  • These 10 Things Should Be Added to the Coworker Code

    Since there’s the sibling code, bro code, and we even pitched a girl code, it’s time we made the coworker code a thing. These ten rules absolutely need to be in the code. 

    You shall not be a busybody

    Happiness is when everyone knows how to mind their business. Believe it or not, asking your coworker why they’ve been in the toilet for the last two hours won’t always be interpreted as you being “caring”.

    You shall respect your coworker’s time

    The work is urgent, we know. But don’t go messaging someone at 2 a.m. on a Sunday and expect them to shine teeth with you.

    You’re coworkers, not their boss

    In other words, no go dey do pass yourself. 

    Don’t expose anyone’s white lies

    Even if you’re sure they’re calling in sick just to attend another interview somewhere, it’s not your business o.

    Your friendship ends at the office

    Unless they show they’re open to being close buddies outside work, just satisfy yourself with being the office bestie.

    Don’t ask for their social media handles

    If y’all aren’t close like that, just maintain your lane. Many people like to have a safe space where they can shade their office people when they need to.

    You shall not eat beans in the general workspace

    Or any extremely… fragrant food at all. If your office doesn’t have a cafeteria, just starve. Just don’t bring beans and egg to work.

    Thou shalt not steal ideas

    Never pass off someone else’s idea as yours if you don’t want thunder to fire you.

    Block until proven cool

    Find them on social media before they find you, and block them. Only unblock when you’ve confirmed they have sense.

    Don’t call a meeting when it could’ve been an email

    Just don’t do it. Sincerely, your past, present and future coworkers.


    NEXT READ: Corporate Speak 101: How to Insult Your Coworker Without Losing Your Job

  • These Are the Only Jobs That Should Require More Than Two Interview Stages

    Have you ever applied for a job as say, a writer or product designer, and the company says you have to first submit your CV and then portfolio before jumping through six interview stages that involve tests, meeting with executives and so much more wahala? Because of ordinary writing or Figma? This needs to stop. 

    These are the only jobs, as far as Nigeria is concerned, that should require more than two interview stages.

    Signed, Zikoko.

    President

    It’s not like we’re saying Bubu is an incompetent president o, but we’re certain he didn’t go through any interview stages. They just gave the whole country paper and ink, and whoever’s name came out as most voted was crowned Grand Commander of the Order of the Federal Republic. With the results we’re seeing, something is wrong with that hiring process, abi what do you think?

    The person flying you to your japa destination

    You see the pilots flying from Lagos to Winnipeg? Please let them study to show themselves approved. Let it not be that it’s when it’s someone’s turn to japa that the pilot now didn’t know road again. May our enemies not see our underwear. 

    Wole Soyinka’s barber

    Wole Soyinka’s hair itself is a national treasure. Whoever is the barber in charge of it needs to know this and treat it with respect. But it seems like Wole Soyinka already knows this, and his hair is in good hands

    People that do herbal mixtures

    As a person who likes your life, why would you drink a “herbal mixture” advertised to cure COVID and cancer while making you the richest person in the world? And you bought for ₦120 o at Iyana Ipaja. Why? 

    The person in charge of food at owambes

    You need someone who’ll be able to look your guests in the eye and say food has finished while sitting on one jumbo cooler of untouched jollof rice and chicken. It requires a high level of skill and witchcraft that many do not possess. 

    Mechanics

    If you’re ready to buy AC compressor for ₦120k three times a year, then sure, go ahead and pick any roadside mechanic and let them do things to your car. A smart car owner would request the MIT engineering certificate of his potential mechanic to avoid unnecessary billing. 

    Your wedding makeup artist

    My sister in Christ, you have only one wedding. Imagine your makeup artist… fucks up. God forbid o. 

    Amala bukka people 

    These are the things the government needs to take seriously. Imagine someone opening a bukka for amala, and it’s bad amala they’re selling. The butterfly effect could topple governments. Bad amala equals bad stomachs equals bad moods equals angry people equals wars, and so on. 

    Intro-tech teachers 

    At the first stage, they need to prove that they can actually teach intro-tech. The next stage is a test of their flogging abilities. Then the final stage is finding out if they have a happy life. Of course, as a rule, intro-tech teachers have to be sadistic men who derive pleasure in flogging students like their lives depend on it. 

    Government hospital nurses

    You can’t just hire any nursing school graduate to work at a government hospital. There are requirements. Do they like gossip? Is their name Titi? Are they rude and wicked to all and sundry? These are the issues. 

    Tattoo artists

    If you don’t verify that a tattoo artist knows their onions and they do irreversible nonsense on your skin, there’s only one person to blame: you. 


    You might enjoy this: #NairaLife: She’s 22, and She’s Changing Careers for the Third Time

  • 10 Signs a New Job Will Take Your Life

    So, you just got a new job — or you’re considering accepting one — and you’re happy to finally get something to cushion the effects of poverty. Don’t get too excited. You need to watch out for these signs.

    The office is at Ikeja

    Ikeja is like the epicentre of Lagos hustle and scam activities. Remember Computer village and those fake job interview invites? Do we need to explain further?

    HR is too motivational

    “We’re all one big family here” or “We’re all rockstars”. Run for your life.

    They have a banging social media page

    You’d be trying to complete your one million deliverables when Oga sends a memo that every staff member should report to the conference room to do TikTok video. What if I don’t want to dance?

    The office has a recreation area

    They have a gaming area, and you aren’t scared? They’re indirectly telling you they’ll give you headaches that’ll make you avoid reality.

    Office is at Lagos Island

    They use fine office and aesthetics to cover up for the fact that they’re about to suck your blood.

    You have too many Gen Z co-workers

    Your biggest headache with them may be deciphering all the slang they use every day. Who sent you work?

    Your co-workers are old people

    These ones are just typical Nigerian parents raised to power infinity.

    You don’t have a clear job description

    If they say they want someone who can “hit the ground running” and “make things happen,” they want to stress you.

    Your coworkers are too happy

    It’s giving “smile through the pain”. Don’t fall for it.

    They’re sad

    This one is self-explanatory. Carry your mental health and run away.


    NEXT READ: Kill It at Any Job Interview With These 8 Hacks

  • Why Does Sports Betting Have Such a Strong Pull? 8 Nigerians Answer

    Growing up, I had this wild idea that bet shops were like social clubs for men — think school JETS club type— because no day would pass without my finding a crowd of sweaty men throwing terms like “over 1.5” as if they were trying to solve a math problem.

    Obviously, now I know what sports betting is, and that it isn’t limited to a particular gender. I also know it can be a problem. A documentary on sports betting recently started an online conversation, and I just had to ask: why does it have such a strong pull on Nigerians?

    I spoke to eight sports betting lovers, and here’s what they had to say.

    “I have nothing to lose”

    — Dare, 32. Male

    I work in a school and only earn about ₦18k monthly. My salary never lasts a week, especially with a wife and two kids at home. It’s better for me to set out like ₦5k to bet because even if I don’t, the money will still finish. At least with betting, I have hope of multiplying my money. I sometimes lose, but I sometimes win the odd ₦10k.

    “I can get lucky at any time”

    — Kola, 30. Male

    No one knows what’ll happen tomorrow. Even if I lose ₦10,000 today, I know it’s very possible for me to win ₦100,000 tomorrow — which will even cover what I previously lost, so I just keep trying. Who knows when my luck will shine?

    “I do it for fun”

    — Ope, 27. Male

    It’s a way for me to relax after a hard day. My favourite hangout spot is a bar with a betting shop close by, and it’s normal for us guys to talk about games and place bets. Sometimes I get carried away and bet more than wisdom allows, but it’s like a bonding thing with my guys.

    “It’s just something you do”

    — Wumi, 23. Female

    Almost everyone I know plays Baba Ijebu. What else is there to do when you struggle to make ₦1k last a whole week? At least, if you remove ₦150 to play a game, or even the lotto game we call “two sure”, there’s hope you can make more. Even if you lose, it’s just a part of life. I’m not sure I can stop.

    “I usually have a good chance at winning”

    — Sunday, 29. Male

    I spend a minimum of ₦15k every week on sports betting. I’m a good football game analyst, so I started as a way of putting my predictions to good use. I used to win a lot in the beginning, but now the thrill has taken over and made me lose more. I think it’s also because I hardly think it through these days. But when I focus more, I usually have a good chance of winning.

    “I’m not sure why I do it, honestly”

    — Joe, 31. Male

    I typically play virtual games, and if I’m being honest, I’ve lost far more than I’ve ever made. I’ve been betting for six years, and the most I’ve made at once was about ₦80,000. The money finished the same day I won it because of previous debts and the compulsory drinking with friends to celebrate.

    I don’t know why I bet, honestly. I just know that any day I don’t visit the betting shop doesn’t feel complete.


    RELATED: The #NairaLife of a Gambling Addiction


    “The search for a big win never ends”

    — Nonso, 28. Male

    I know betting is bad for you, but for me, the search for a “big win” never ends. Imagine booking live matches, and only one game spoils the ticket. You never stop thinking about how close you were to winning something huge. The only big win I’ve ever had was in 2019 when I won ₦120k. I’ve seen people win ₦500k, even ₦1 million. It can be me one day, so I keep playing.

    “I love the thrill of it”

    — Peter, 22. Male

    Every bet I place increases my excitement level because you can never tell the one that’ll change your life forever. And with how things are in Nigeria, one will just die of depression if you don’t do things that get you excited.

    Of course, losing money doesn’t excite you, but I try to reduce my loss by not being too greedy. Some people will place bets up to 20 times at a go, hoping to recover the money lost. But if I play and lose like seven times at a shot, I give up and try the next day. I’m not sure how much I bet monthly because it really depends on how the games look.


    *Responses have been slightly edited for clarity.


    ALSO READ: “I Was Asked to Pay ₦450k for a ₦55k Job” — 5 Nigerians on Job Racketeering

  • A Week in the Life of a Fine Artist Who Refuses to Be Disrespected

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


    Fine artist Renike Olusanya has always excelled in art, but several years ago, when she got her first commission of ₦25k, she didn’t realise her life was about to change. In 2022, she’s illustrated for international brands and publishing houses and sold a tonne of remarkable art. She tells Zikoko how she navigates work-life balance as a freelance fine artist, her frustrations dealing with clients and how she’s focused on building friendships. This is her life in one week.

    MONDAY

    I used to sleep around 3 a.m. — which is normal for artists because we’re all messed up — but I don’t want again. These days, I try to sleep between 12 and 1 a.m. I believe in gradual changes as it’s more realistic to go from sleeping by 3 a.m. to 1 a.m. than 10 p.m. I usually wake up around 9 a.m, but today, I woke up at 6:30 for some reason, and it was hell.

    I like to respond to my inquiries and emails on Sunday nights so I won’t be under too much pressure on Monday. I also schedule emails for different times of the day depending on the time zone of the recipient. First, I write a to-do list, eat breakfast and get to work. I just started eating breakfast two months ago because I’m trying to build lean muscle and maintain healthy habits.

    I like to eat overnight oats, which is funny because I used to hate [cooked] oatmeal until I discovered the beauty of overnight oats. I make it by soaking rolled oats in oat milk with chia seeds, Greek yoghurt, grapes & peanut butter and storing it in the fridge overnight. So in the morning, I just wake up and eat. Sometimes, I eat it with fried eggs. 

    I work from home as an artist, so it can be difficult to get into work mode. I like to act like I’m going to work. When I’m done with breakfast, I freshen up, dress up formally and head to my home art studio for the rest of the day. By midday, I’m fully in work mode, and I work until 5 p.m., only pausing to stand up every hour when prompted by my Apple Watch. While working, I love listening to podcasts like The Archetypes by Meghan Markle and No Stupid Questions by Stephen Dubner and Angela Duckworth.

    By 5 p.m., I get out of my work chair and change into gym clothes. I recently bought a treadmill I put in my studio because I neither have the strength for Lagos gyms nor a car to make daily trips. I also don’t like going out. I used to work morning till night without standing up. But that’s unhealthy, and I recently decided to become more physically active, I bought the treadmill and some dumbbells to work out in the evenings. I also do yoga until 7:45 p.m. 

    Renike's home art Studio
    Renike’s home art Studio

    Afterwards, my Mondays can go either of two ways. I either eat dinner, read articles or a book, scroll through Twitter and TikTok and watch a movie, or I go to Obi’s House at Hard Rock Cafe — but this is once in a blue moon. Tonight, I’m staying in my house. Before I go to bed, I love those quiet moments when I just apply skincare products to my face.

    TUESDAY

    It’s funny how people only notice you when you’re out there and seem to be doing well. Sometimes, I get so caught up in trying to move forward I forget how far I’ve moved from the early days of my career. But today, I woke up thankful. And while eating my overnight oats — I can’t get enough of it — I took a few moments to meditate on my journey. 

    In 2016, when I was in Unilag, someone reached out and asked me to supply prints of my artwork to a guest house. When the money entered my account — ₦500k — I was just looking at the alert like, I’ve used talent to escape the trenches o! Which is funny because my first commission was so random. I had a mentor — a pastor who used to encourage me. He commissioned me to paint his wife and paid me ₦25k. 

    My first book cover was also a commission from a friend. She paid ₦30k for the illustration, and I was more than happy to work on it because I loved everything about her poetry collection, from vision to execution. I kept creating and putting out my work and not long after, I got a gig that paid £500. Just imagine the gap. And then, the gigs just kept coming….

    As I finished my oats and prepared for the day, I knew I was going to absolutely slay it. 

    WEDNESDAY

    As a freelance fine artist, the nature of my job lacks structure, so I have to consciously decide to stick to a routine every day of the week, and a to-do list is my greatest tool. Knowing what to do before I start each day has helped my artistic process a lot because I track my activities and progress on projects for the day.

    As a full-time fine artist, I draw what I like and sell them. Sometimes, people want me to draw things for them, and for a fee, I do. I get book cover commissions from either a self-published author or publishing house. When a house reaches out to me to design a book cover, it could be because the author saw my work somewhere and liked it. Like when I designed the cover of Nicola Yoon’s book Instructions for Dancing, one of Penguin’s creative directors reached out to me and said Nicola Yoon saw my work on Instagram — it’s always Instagram — and thought I’d be a great fit. Of course, I was interested. There’s usually a process that makes collaborating easy: a creative director reaches out, I do my work and get paid. 

    A photo of a woman Renike posing with some books she designed covers for
    Renike posing with some books she designed covers for

    But with independent authors, there’s a lot of back-and-forths because I ask a lot of questions, and sometimes, they don’t really know what they want, so I have to guide them through. I’m the illustrator as well as the consultant. I can ask for a non-disclosure agreement to protect their work if they feel reluctant to tell me certain details of their story.

    I used to have a fixed price list, but not anymore, because I often sold myself short, especially when the projects evolved or derailed. Right now, I have a base fee and add extra depending on the complexity of the project. Painting someone’s head will be different from painting someone’s hand, for example; the same goes for half-body vs full-body portraits.

    When I do personal art, I start with an idea, roll it around in my head for a while before I start painting. Which reminds me, the last time I did something personal was in July [2022]. I worked really hard between 2020 and 2022, putting out a a lot of work and building my reputation — and that’s why I can afford my lifestyle today. I still have ideas, but it’s been hard to find space to create personal work. Funny, I never struggle with commsioned work.

    I’m thinking this as I step out of my studio at 5 p.m. today. I make a note to paint something personal soon.

    Renike the fine artist posing with her artworks

    THURSDAY

    Today was just annoying; payment wahala here and there. The biggest headache I have these days is accepting payments. Most of my clients are outside the country so anytime I need to receive a payment, I always have to manoeuvre one issue or the other as a Nigerian living and working in Nigeria.

    I’ve put my name out there to the point that people now trust me. All you need to do is Google my name and see I’m legit. But it wasn’t always the case. When I was still coming up around 2019/2020, it used to frustrate me that some international clients would just air me after seeing I’m Nigerian. 

    There was a time one of these traditional banks that recently went digital kept restricting my account until I threatened to sue. I was getting paid, but I couldn’t get my money. It’s not like the money was plenty o — didn’t even have the money to sue — but I couldn’t take it anymore. 

    I’m also struggling with inflation, and it’s affected the kind of projects I take on. My foreign clientele typically commissions digital art and book covers while most of my Nigerian clients prefer portraits. But right now, I don’t take as many portrait commissions or get as many requests as I used to because my base price is in dollars. With the way the naira is moving nowadays, I can’t charge Nigerians in Nigeria. It’s ridiculous to convert what was, say, ₦100k at the beginning of 2022 to more than double that. 

    It’s such a struggle, and I’m tired mehn. When does one get a break?

    Renike the fine artist posing with her artwork
    Renike posing with one of her works

    FRIDAY

    A younger artist reached out to me today, complaining that they did work for someone, and the client refused to pay. I discussed with the person on how they could prevent it from happening again.

    I’ve worked with too many problematic clients than I’d like, but because I’ve had a few years of experience, I can spot them from a mile away and run for my life. They always have a crazy long list of things they want done — things that’ll normally cost an arm and a leg — but never have the budget for it. 

    No matter how big you are, you can’t escape problematic clients. These days, what I do is if there’s something they want and their budget doesn’t match it, instead of chasing them away, I try to compromise to find middle ground. For example, if you really want a full-body portrait of five people, and you only have enough to cover a full-body portrait of three, I can suggest a half-body portrait of five people instead. But the problematic ones don’t even want to make concessions; all they do is stress me out, so I just run away.

    A few years ago, there was this lady who reached out to me for a painting. I was still charging around $500 and above at the time. We moved to the consultation stage, but after hearing all the details she wanted, I was like, ehn? This thing you want — with the whole world including heaven — is how much it would cost. Omo, this woman started ranting. What really annoyed me was when she said I’d wasted her time. I had to clear her — respectfully — on the spot.

    Clients are always right o, but they should also respect people who work with or for them. She wasted my time too when she was describing heaven and earth. People need to understand that they’re paying for a service and we’re doing it in return for the payment. Our work as artists is to bring your vision to life, so you can’t disrespect us because you only want to pay a certain amount of money. I won’t accept disrespect just because I’m providing a service.

    I’ve had to evolve my process in a way that demands respect, so right from the beginning, you know you’re not dealing with an anyhow person: 

    1. I ask a lot of questions and sign contracts from the get-go, so nobody will say something, and then later, say that’s not what they said, because I have the receipts. 
    2. I don’t attend to inquiries over the phone. I prefer emails so there’s a trail of communication.
    3. When people divert from the original agreement or add something or the other, I charge extra.

    I always set boundaries from the beginning. I don’t work for people who refuse to respect these boundaries because my peace of mind is important to me. Once people realise that after two revisions, they have to pay extra fees, they sit up and tell me exactly what they want.

    But you see clients who treat me well? First of all, they offer me good money and are polite. Sometimes, they’re even ashamed to offer the money. To me, it’s big money o; to them, it’s like, “You have all this talent, and I can’t afford you, but please, take this money. And I’m like, “Yes ma’am.” 

    After I did the book cover for my friend’s poetry collection, I kept posting my work on social media, and the next people who reached out offered me £500 and were telling me they knew it was lower than what I usually charged. The way I screamed. Me that my previous job was ₦30k? Me that used to beg people to pay ₦50k, and they’d refuse? Me that didn’t even think I was good? That was my turning point.

    SATURDAY

    On weekends, I like to work out in the afternoons rather than in the evening. I also spend time watching and making TikToks of my art — and some fun dance routines too. Weekends are when I let my hair down and dance. But not at parties because, these days, if I do legwork in public, they’ll say Renike is razz. I do my legwork in my house, please. Dancing makes me feel really active and happy. 

    Weekends are also for hanging out with friends. I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. I’m only starting to make them — especially female friends — in my adulthood. I love them so much and love hanging out with them. They make life worth living. When I’m sad, I know I have this group of people I can talk to, who won’t judge me. They listen to me, hype me up, dance with me, crack funny and dead jokes with me, etc.

    I like to read books too. Today, I finished Colleen Hoover’s Verity, and I’ve still not recovered. Tomorrow is Sunday, and I’ll sleep like my life depends on it. When another Monday comes, I’ll eat overnight oats, dress up and face the week.


    Check back for new A Week in the Life stories every first Tuesday of the month at 9 a.m. If you’d like to be featured on the series, or you know anyone interesting who fits the profile, fill out this form.

  • Teen techie dreams of an Africa that is technology-driven

    David Kamau made his first prototype robot when he was 14. Now, as an engineering student, his schemes are for a robotic dog to keep soldiers safe. Kamau’s dream? An Africa that is tech-driven.

    By Jackson Okata, bird story agency

    Hunched over scrap metal, a slender teenager is busy at his workbench. Some distance away, a woman stands, keenly following what the young man is doing. The young man is so engrossed in his work that he barely notices people coming or going through the compound gates. Some just want to stand and watch him at work.

    David Laurence Kamau, 19, was barely a teenager when Kenya experienced its worst terror attacks, after the country engaged in a war to help rid neighbouring Somalia of deadly al-Shabaan militants.

    Today, in a temporary workshop in front of his mother’s two-roomed rented house, the teenager spends most of his time working on a design for a robotic dog that could help, as he puts it, “keep my country safe from al Shabaab terrorists”.

    Images and tales of the country’s security agencies putting their lives on the line to keep citizens safe are what inspired him to seek a solution that would minimise casualties on the frontline.

    “Seeing our soldiers die on the battlefield pushed me into doing something. I wanted to make a robot that could help in saving lives,” Kamau explained.

    Despite the busy surroundings of the compound in Mzee Wa Nyama estate in Nakuru City, 158 kilometres west of Nairobi, the area around the workshop is hushed. It’s almost as if the neighbours have signed a silent pact to give him the peace and quiet he needs to work on his “dog ya chuma” (“metallic dog”). Only when Kamau’s mother, Rose Kimani, welcomes visitors with a loud “karibu” (“welcome”) does Kamau rise to welcome them.

    The last-born in a family of four, Kamau said that since childhood he has always loved toys, which led him to his passion for robots.

    “If not working in the workshop, I would probably be looking for raw materials, doing research or in school,” said the soft-spoken robot enthusiast.

    “I think creativity and curiosity have been in me since I was a child. I loved playing with toys and slowly that turned into a passion. While playing with toys, I would carefully study a toy and do some modifications on it to enable it to perform certain functions.”

    Childhood friend Kevin Kamau said that Kamau was always the go-to techie in the neighbourhood.

    “He would repair broken radios, bicycles and would make all car models using wires and old rubber. He would fix any problem that any phone had around here,’’ he said.

    It was during Kamau’s high school years that he really fell in love with robots, a passion he vows to pursue until “I achieve my dream of becoming a robotic scientist”. His teachers noted his enthusiasm and offered him support.

    Father Ezekiel Ngaruiya, a former principal of the school, said he noticed Kamau’s love for science in his first year.

    “Most of the time he would hang around the computer and chemistry laboratories. Whenever his class went for practicals in the laboratories, he would stay behind after the lessons and you would find him either working on the computer or mixing some chemicals,” Nguruiya said.

    His enthusiasm would see Kamau given unlimited access to the school computer lab, a place he says became his research centre.

    Valentine Luvembe, Kamau’s former biology teacher says the young robot guru’s passion for sciences made him a darling of science teachers in the school

    “He combined all the three sciences and when we spotted his talent we offered him all the support we could, including helping him with research work. He was the only student who could access the laboratory without the supervision of a teacher,” he said.

    According to his mother, Kamau’s journey as a budding robot engineer started in childhood.

    “He was an independent and quiet but curious child who wanted to make his own toys to play with. For instance, he would use cartons, wood and scrap wires to make toy cars and dolls in his childhood,” she said.

    “While his peers were busy playing football, Kamau would be busy playing with wire, making toy cars which he would later gift his friends.”

    Kamau said he has always been curious. As a child, toys would often become objects of investigation.

    “Like any child, I was fascinated and loved playing with toys and slowly that turned into a passion,” says the soft-spoken robotic enthusiast.

    “While playing with toys, especially those that would be emote operated, I would carefully study them, and sometimes, I would dismantle, reassemble repurpose them to operate differently. That is what would give a sense of satisfaction in my playing with toys or any other electric gadgets.”

    “Of course, I was always accused of destroying a toy, and at times, earning me reprimand from other children.”

    At 14, using wires from cloth hangers, he developed his first model robot.

    “I wanted to try something out and I liked the outcome of it. That is when I decided to actualise my passion for developing robots,” he said.

    Kamau, however, was not sure of what type to make until he saw on television the death and devastation in Somalia and later in Lamu, in an attack on north-eastern Kenya, by al Shabaab militants.

    This is when he started working on a model for a “robodog” in earnest. He would like to ensure that a “robotic military dog” would have the capacity to disarm, detect and detonate explosives, which could save scores, if not hundreds, of human lives.

    “It is easy to replace a machine that is destroyed on the battlefield, but you cannot replace human life,’’ he said.

    The robodog would use AI to improve efficacy.

    “The computer programme that runs the robot enhances its intelligence thus reducing the margin of error compared to when a human is tasked with defusing a bomb,” he added, noting that once the design and structural works were completed, a military robotic could be “weaponised” to enable it to execute its functions fully.

    With the schematics for the electronics and mechanics work “largely done,” he said, he is now in the process of designing software that will aid the functioning of the robot.

    A lack of money to buy the requisite components for his robotic dog model has forced him to work with any available materials, including items recycled from waste. His mother has been a great supporter, helping him wherever possible.

    “When I realized he meant what he was doing. I have been supporting him with little money from my small retail trade business to finance his data bundles for research and welding of his robots,” she said.

    While Kamau has so far designed six models – including one for assisting people with visual impairment – he is aware he still has a long journey ahead of him. But he can already see his goal.

    “In the next ten years, I believe my dream of becoming a full-fledged robot manufacturer will come to pass.”

    And how does Kamau see the future?

    “I want to be part of that Africa that is technology-driven. I dream of a future where robotic science will take its rightful space in African manufacturing and security sectors,” he said.

  • Are All These Bank Requirements Really Necessary? — A Bank Official Explains

    We’re in the days of 5G and cardless ATM withdrawals, yet somehow banks will still ask you to take out a newspaper ad just to correct the arrangement of your name on your own bank account. 

    We listed some of the requirements we consider quite unnecessary, and got a bank official to explain why banks need them.

    Why do prospective current account holders need references who already have current accounts?

    To start, we’ll need to clarify what a savings and current account is meant to achieve. The savings account was designed initially to deposit funds, with limited withdrawals. This is very obviously not the case on our side of the continent. LOL.

    A current account accommodates more transactions, which is essential for the business person. The bank doesn’t accept references from a savings account holder because it’s believed that, unlike a current account, the savings account holder doesn’t make use of their account regularly, may not be easily reachable, and can’t be a reliable guarantor if yawa gas.

    Why do banks require proof of address? Can’t a homeless person have a functioning bank account?

    They can have a tier 1 account. In this case, the bank marketers may just write down the address of the place they met the customer since it isn’t really necessary.

    The challenge with this is, such type of account will have restrictions on the amount of money they can receive, and if an amount above the limit is received, the account is immediately restricted. Think of it as a fraud measure — the bank should be able to account for the legality of its customers.

    The proof of address is required when the customer wants to upgrade their account to higher tiers and fewer restrictions. So why not just fulfil the requirements from the beginning?

    Utility bills too. What if I owe NEPA; does this affect my ability to open an account?

    The accounts that require a utility bill are the tier 3 accounts — the highest level of savings account in Nigeria. In simple terms, you can have as much money there as you like.

    And honestly, the bank doesn’t care if you owe NEPA or not; that’s your wahala. They just want to make sure the address you gave them exists, and you actually live there.

    Why’s it necessary to take out a newspaper ad just to make a small name adjustment? Isn’t the affidavit enough?

    You know how the country only recognises your marriage under the law when you have a court wedding? The newspaper ad shows you’ve officially changed your name under law, and the country now has your new name on record. The affidavit is legal too, but the newspaper ad is an additional public notification.

    Is my mother’s maiden name really necessary to make changes to my account?

    It’s not entirely necessary. It’s just more of a security question to prevent unauthorised persons from accessing your account. It’s not foolproof, which is why other documents and your signature are also required.


    NEXT READ: 6 Working Mums Tell Us What They Wish They’d Done Differently in Their Careers

  • A Week in the Life of a Brand Designer Who No Longer Accepts “Exposure” as Payment

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


    The subject of this Week in the Life is Joboson Chisa, a brand designer. He designs across a broad spectrum: brand identity, perception, sales, marketing, communications etc. He tells about his design process, how he made his first million as a brand designer, his frustrations negotiating with clients and why he’s no longer choosing “vawulence” on design Twitter.

    Graphic photo of a designer Joboson China

    MONDAY

    I always wake up at 6 a.m. thinking we should scrap Mondays. So I don’t get out of bed until 9 a.m. During those three hours, I browse Twitter and think up ideas, to start the week. Sometimes, I tweet motivational stuff, the occasional “we gonna make it #Wagmi” — as if I have energy to start the week — right from my bed. The lies we tell…

    Anyway, by nine o’clock, I finally get out of bed and open my laptop. Mondays are for stand-up meetings and admin work — sending and responding to emails, receiving and analysing feedback, etc. I get the most rejection mails from organisations about my pitches on Mondays, and I don’t eat breakfast until 12. 

    After work, I catch up on all the “vawulence” on Twitter. There’s always someone being ratioed for a bad design opinion at the start of the week. If you’re looking for hot takes on +234 design Twitter, you’ll find them on Monday. It’s like designers had too much time on their hands during the weekend and the gist spilt into the new week. 

    TUESDAY

    I know it’s just Tuesday, but please, the week has been crazy already. As a freelancer working from home, Tuesdays are usually my busiest days, when I actually open my design software and get to work. When I have deadlines, I beg MTN to have mercy on me.

    I’m very busy these days, juggling several client projects. And as if that wasn’t enough, I carried myself to take on community work. That’s the curse of being a freelance designer — taking on more projects than you should. But I’m a bad guy, so I’ll just wait until those deadlines are due then the panic monster will pressure me into slaying them. 

    After seven gruelling hours at my work desk, I have new designs. They’re so beautiful — even though I know I’m going to hate them tomorrow. But it’s been a hard day’s work, and I’m satisfied. Work hasn’t ended though, only client work. 

    Around 6 p.m., I turn my focus to a personal project. I’m trying to build 234 Brand Street, an online community of designers like myself, and even though I don’t have a clear roadmap, this thing has me doing things out of my comfort zone. I’m editing videos, learning new software, making templates for a live event — mehn, it’s been crazy motivating and crazy stressful. Who send me work?

    WEDNESDAY

    Someone reached out to me on LinkedIn, and I was so excited because that would be my first client from the platform — I’m mostly active on Twitter. This person told me they needed a designer and promised so many high sounding jargon — except payment. What would I use a “founding designer” title to do when it’s not coming with money? Is that how they say they’ll pay in “exposure” these days?

    Once I told him I wasn’t comfortable with the offer, he stopped responding. I was really disappointed because I felt like LinkedIn had better to offer.

    People like this stress me out. But I’ve made my peace that money conversations will often be weird. Just as I was rounding up work for today, someone emailed me from Behance to ask for my rates. When I asked for their budget, he asked what I wanted. He now said it was out of his budget. But didn’t he say he didn’t have a budget?

    I finished the first iteration of a brand identity I’d been working on for the past week for a US-based client and sent the files over. I expect to get their feedback by next Monday. So it wasn’t an unproductive day.

    After all the stress, I called my boys out to hang in the evening. As a remote freelancer, I try to invest as much time as I can in my social life. I felt like having cocktails, so we went for drinks until 11 p.m.

    THURSDAY

    The weekend is almost here so bored designers usually start dropping hot takes and fighting on Twitter today. I didn’t have urgent projects immediately pressing my neck, so I decided to indulge a bit by spending a little too much time on the app, calling out designers for their problematic takes. Thursdays are usually my freest days anyway.

    The thing is I’m a very outspoken person, and I feel very privileged to be in the design industry. But in +234 design Twitter, some people want to feel more important than they really are. There’s this worrying trend of people trying to position themselves as better than others rather than solving problems for people who can pay for their services. 

    The design community on Twitter used to be very different from what it is now. It was once a melting point of shared ideas and innovation, but these days, you’ll just see someone who hasn’t done any notable work, but because they got into tech from a random gig and bought fancy gadgets, nobody will hear word again. 

    One thing about me is I’ll always call out bullshit when I see it. Sometimes, I keep quiet, expecting people to know better — don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the good things design money can get one, but it’s becoming a pattern to detect those who breed on vibes, controversy and empty show off — I’ve saved some of their lit workspace pictures, though.

    After today sha, I’ll be keeping quiet. I don’t want to build a brand on “vawulence”. I just hope younger, less experienced designers won’t fall for the empty hype of people who don’t really care about them as much as they see newbies as stepping stones to their own goals. 

    FRIDAY

    I’m always excited about the weekend. It gives me a sense of accomplishment, and I also get to do fun stuff. Earlier today, I completed a major design project, handed it over and got paid. The money was up there with the highest I’ve charged this year, so I’m in high spirits.

    I’ve had a weird money journey, especially with charging clients. When I started out, I charged ₦5k for logos — and sometimes, I didn’t even get paid. But I’ve come a long way. In December [2021], a friend asked me how much I charged for designs. At the time, I was charging ₦500k – 700k for a full brand package, which included logos, social media and marketing templates, merch and many more. When they told me I was too good to be charging that amount, I didn’t believe them

    But later, I did research and saw designers charging $2k for brand identities I didn’t think were all that, so I decided to raise my rates. When a client reached out to me shortly after, I decided to ask for more money than I normally would. I pitched an idea, held my breath and asked for ₦1.7m. I didn’t know where I got the audacity from. The company accepted, and I wanted to run mad with excitement. That was my first million. Since then, I’ve not looked back.

    When I received my credit alert this evening, I knew it was time to have fun. I’m going to hit up my squad so we can decide if we’re going to a concert, bar or any fun event in Lagos. I try to go out every weekend, but this one will be special.


    Check back for new A Week in the Life stories every first Tuesday of the month at 9 a.m. If you’d like to be featured on the series, or you know anyone interesting who fits the profile, fill out this form.

  • 6 Working Mums Tell Us What They Wish They’d Done Differently in Their Careers

    As a firm believer in women’s ability to succeed at whatever they set their minds to, I’ll always argue that raising children doesn’t have to stop a woman’s career or professional dreams.

    Of course, there are always counter-arguments about how rare it is to combine the two — motherhood and career — well, without one hurting the other.

    So, I asked six women who currently live in this reality about the things they may have done differently, knowing what they know now.

    “I’d have waited just a bit longer for kids”

    — Olamide*, 39. Educationist

    I absolutely love my kids, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but I think I had them too early.

    I got married in 2012, and though my husband and I agreed to wait two years before having kids, so I’d have time to pursue my master’s degree, I started getting impatient after the fifth month. It didn’t help that womb watchers started to put pressure on me.

    I eventually had my first baby the following year, and it was harder than I thought. My children are still young, so I haven’t had time to go back to school. Further education is important in my field, and since there’s a limit to how far I can go in my career without an advanced degree, I’ve settled for teaching in a secondary school, for now. I also provide educational consultation for some clients, but my goal is to lecture and I need an advanced degree for that. I may eventually find the courage to do it one day. 

    I just wish I had been patient enough to just wait out the two years.

    “I wish I explored more”

    — Ehis*, 43. Business analyst

    I’ve only ever worked in one organization, and I’ve been working for about 18 years. I guess I feel indebted to them in a way, since they believed in me when I was still a bright-eyed, inexperienced graduate, and also supported my wedding financially when I got married 12 years ago.

    By the time I started having kids, I got comfortable and didn’t think to consider better job offers. I was scared of working with someone who wouldn’t understand if I randomly needed to take sick leave because my child developed a toothache.

    I know if I had overcome my fear, I’d have better industry experience, a great personal brand and essentially a much higher salary by now.

    “Please, don’t be afraid to ask for help”

    — Yetunde*, 38. Nurse

    I’m a bit of a perfectionist, and I like to do things myself. It got so bad that when I started having kids, and my husband suggested getting a nanny to help out but I refused. I wanted to handle everything myself.

    Even at work, I had the opportunity to ask my colleagues to help cover certain shifts, or even speak with my supervisor, but I didn’t. I guess I was trying to prove a point: that I could balance my career and family life.

    Of course, the pressure got to me and my job suffered. I didn’t get fired, but was passed over on some promotions. I know better now so there’s no use beating myself up. But prospective mothers, please ask for help.


    RELATED: 5 Nigerian Mothers Share What Pregnancy Did Not Prepare Them For


    “I wouldn’t have allowed myself to get guilt-tripped”

    — Rofiat*, 41. Personal assistant

    I was working as a customer service officer in a bank when I had my first child in 2010. My work was still stellar, if I do say so myself, but my team lead was always dropping snide remarks about how my attention was now divided.

    I started feeling guilty about speaking up, even if it was to communicate that I was running a few minutes late, and I decided to quit to save myself the stress.

    I started a business for a while before caving in and going back to the corporate world in 2019. It was tough because of the large career gap but I eventually got my current job.

    Looking back, I could easily have looked for another job because I had an amazing support system, but my former boss already made me believe I’d not be giving it my all. I’d have been in a much better place in my career now.

    “I’d have stayed at my job”

    — Kiki*, 35. Teacher

    I resigned from my research assistant job immediately after I got pregnant in 2014 because I wanted to be a full-time mum. I love my kids, but I underestimated how much I needed to work in order to feel like I’m doing something with my life.

    It took me almost falling into depression and a family intervention for me to see that I was already turning into someone I couldn’t recognise. I got a primary school teaching job in 2021, and though it’s not where I could have been, I can live with it for now.

    “I wouldn’t change anything”

    — Iyabo*, 48. Accountant

    I had to take a three-year career break in 2006 when it seemed like balancing two kids and a demanding job would be the end of me.

    Luckily, I have a supportive husband who understands how much I love what I do, and he’s the one who encouraged me to try going back into the industry. It was difficult, and I job-hunted for close to two years before I finally got a job in 2011.

    I’m not where I’d have been if I didn’t take a break, and I understand age isn’t really on my side for career prospects, but I’m grateful I get to have both — a career and a loving family.


    *Names have been changed, and answers slightly edited for clarity.


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

  • What You Should Know About Managing Older People at Work

    If there’s one thing that’s infinitely funny about workplaces, it’s how you can be a Gen Z leading a team of baby boomers and millennials. Like an unknown wise woman said, “Skill is seniority at work. Keep your age in your pocket.”

    Even if you aren’t currently in this situation, you may experience it one day, so you should prepare your mind for these things.

    So, you just got a fantastic new job with a salary that looks like it can last two months

    Finally securing the bag. Purrr.

    Only for you to resume to see old faces everywhere

    Wait first, these people look like they can give birth to me o.

    You start getting used to calling them by name

    Even though your Nigerian mother’s by-force home training makes you feel like you’re committing a sin.

    You may be lucky to work with the cool ones…

    The ones who are more interested in ensuring the work is done and couldn’t give a rat’s ass who’s older than who.

    Or the ones who’ll carry it on their head

    These ones will forever have a hard time understanding why oga is a “small child” and will try multiple ways to undermine you.

    They’ll try the “I’ve been working for 20 years” card

    Yes, we know you’ve been working here even before I was born, but kindly work on this task I’m delegating to you. You know, a job you’re being paid to do?

    They’ll play the age card

    Nobody:

    Them: Oh, you’re 25? My last child is 27 years old. 

    How’s that my business?

    They may try to teach you your work…

    Sure, it’s great to learn from more… experienced colleagues, but there’s a reason you’ve been hired to bring innovative ideas. So, innovate.

    Or they make you feel like you don’t know what you’re doing

    Nobody:

    Them: You want to cut down on hard copy reports? I hope this won’t lead to complicated processes sha.

    But you should never doubt yourself

    It’s very easy to develop imposter syndrome when you’re the youngest person on a team, or managing a bunch of older people. Don’t. You’re darn good at what you do, and don’t stop believing it.


    NEXT READ: How to Kill It on Your First Day at a New Job

  • A Week in the Life of an Apprentice Tailor

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


    18-year-old Susan* is learning to sew to keep herself busy during the ASUU strike. But in Nigeria, apprentices are at the mercy of their bosses. And Susan’s typical week is full of more downs than ups. Find out why tailors lie and how she’s making the best of the ASUU strike in this week in her life.

    Graphic design with image of a sewing machine for an apprentice tailor

    MONDAY

    I like Mondays because they’re the most chilled days of my week. People have collected their dresses during the weekend, and even though sometimes, we receive clothes on Monday, it’s not plenty like that. I was looking forward to a chill day as usual, but my day started badly when I was harassed by street boys.

    My dad asked me to help him cash a cheque on my way to work. The bank isn’t far from my house, so I decided to trek. On my way, I saw some men loitering around and thought it was the regular street boys that’ll leave you be as long as you mind your business. But these ones started catcalling me. It wasn’t my first time being catcalled — that one is normal in Lagos — but these guys were very aggressive to the point of touching me. I managed to break away.

    I thought I’d be able to shake off the experience, but by the time I got to work, I was still shaken and I felt dirty. I hoped to just get through the day. 

    Things were going fine until a woman brought in curtains and my madam assigned the work to me. I started on it, but there was a part that was very tricky. 

    The thing about sewing is that it’s better to leave something alone than to redo it after making a mistake because mistakes only make the material worse. I’m still an apprentice so I decided to show my madam that part, but she was talking with the person that brought the curtain outside and I didn’t want to interrupt them. So I waited for her to be done with their conversation. 

    But when madam stepped into the shop and saw me idle, she started shouting at me — she didn’t even give me space to explain myself. I was so embarrassed.

    My day went from bad to worse. When I got home and showered, I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about how if there was no strike and I was in school, something like this wouldn’t happen to me. It’s not like school isn’t easy but it’s just easier for me to blame it on ASUU.

    TUESDAY

    I’ve not recovered from yesterday’s incident and I didn’t even sleep well. But work continues, abi? So I went to work. 

    Tuesdays are only slightly busier at the shop sha, because that’s the time people come with their materials and take measurements and we start working. So since I didn’t have much to do today, I had a lot of time to think about my life.

    Even though I like fashion, I didn’t plan to learn the trade this soon. I’m only doing it because ASUU has been striking for more than six months now, and we don’t even know when it’ll end. 

    I like fashion, but I wish I didn’t have to learn under these conditions. The former place I used to learn was worse than this. The complete trenches. I went there to learn fashion but would find myself in my madam’s house, washing her clothes, taking her children to school, cooking for her husband, and plenty more things. I stayed there for three months before I complained to my mum,, she pulled me out of there, but she’d already paid the apprenticeship fee.

    This place I’m currently doing apprenticeship isn’t perfect, but it’s better. It’s closer to my hous,e and I don’t have to worry about the stress of entering danfo. But I’m tired, to be honest. I can’t wait for ASUU to call off strike. 

    Everybody is like, don’t waste this time. Learn something new. But learning something new doesn’t change the fact that I’m stagnant. My mates in private universities are already in 400 level and me, I’m still in my second year. If there was no strike and this was just a normal holiday, I’d be more excited about learning a trade, But right now, I’m doing it because I don’t have a choice. I just have to do it, if not, I’d be idle. Maybe that’s what makes it feel less interesting.

    WEDNESDAY

    Wednesday is when the real work starts. The official closing time is 5 p.m, and on Monday and Tuesday, we close around that time. But from Wednesday onwards, it’s 6:30 we leave because there’s always so much work. 

    It’s not like I can’t leave at 5 o, I’m just not comfortable leaving unfinished work. But no matter what, I’ll never stay beyond 6:30 because of security issues. 

    Today, I learnt how to make peplums. My mum has a lot of peplum dresses and I’ve always loved them. used to think they were difficult to make. But today, when madam tailor was showing me how to make it, it didn’t even take her more than two minutes. After cutting the material, you just need to put a stale on the peplum, sew round it, and then iron the cloth.

    Image source: Mynativefashion 

    I made my first peplum, and it came out well. I was so happy because my week started so badly.

    Every day I learn something new, and it makes my time here more bearable. By the time I got home, I had so much fun telling my parents and just knew I’d sleep well.

    THURSDAY

    Thursdays are extra busy because people want to get their dresses on Friday. Customers call non-stop to ask if their clothes are ready. It’s also when we lie the most because even if the clothes are not ready, we’ll tell the customers we’re done. We do this just so they’ll stop calling us every five minutes.

    We’re all on edge on Thursdays because of the building tension that a customer can come at any time. It’s the day I make the most mistakes because I’m still learning to manage the pressure.

    It’s also on Thursday that madam tailor shouts at her apprentices the most. I understand her concern, but sometimes, I think there are better ways to correct inexperienced apprentices sha.  It gets ugly when she starts laying her hands on people.

    Like today, I was working on a child’s dress and was almost done — it was just remaining the hand. The problem is, I’ve not really mastered how to cut the hands of dresses yet, so usually, when I get to the hands, I ask a more senior colleague to help me out. I don’t have a personal sewing machine at home, so I fear I’m not learning as fast as I should. The tailor doesn’t allow apprentices to bring their own stuff to sew at the shop. So, other apprentices who have machines usually go home to practice.

    But today, everyone else that could help me was neck-deep in work. I could have waited o, but I was trying to be useful. I said to myself that since I’ve seen people cut dress hands before, I could try it. I finished the dress and moved on to other tasks.

    Around 6:15 p.m., when I was preparing to go home, I heard “KPAIII” on my back. I was already so stressed from the hectic day, so it took me some moments to gather myself. Then the tailor showed me the dress and started shouting at me. She told me it wasn’t her fault I don’t have a machine at home and called me all sorts of names. She kept beating me with that her hand that’s very painful. Me that they don’t beat at home. 

    Shey I’d have left the unfinished dress for someone else. Me that was trying to be useful. Ah, ASUU, see what you people have caused. Please free me, let me go back to school.

    FRIDAY

    When I woke up this morning, my ears were ringing. Then I realised I still have to go to work today after the nonsense that happened yesterday. 

    I wanted to tell my parents, but no. It’s not the first time and my parents are very vocal people. What usually happens is, after my parents call the woman to complain, she’ll apologise to them, promise to do better, and then turn around to badmouth me to other staff and apprentices in the shop. It’s funny because you’d expect them to empathise with me. Shey all of us are suffering the same thing? But no, they’ll join to badmouth me. 

    There’s a kind of stigma that comes with being the one who snitches to their parents — they stop assisting me or sharing knowledge. And me, I’m at a disadvantage because I don’t have a sewing machine. When I look at all the problems that come with reporting, I wonder: at what cost? I’ll just bear it, learn my thing and go. 

    The previous place I paid ₦70k for, the money entered bush. I don’t know how much my parents paid for this one I’m currently doing, but it’s probably even more expensive. And it’s not like my parents can terminate the contract and collect a refund. That’s why I endure.

    Fridays are chaotic as hell. By the time we closed today, I’d put all the events of the week behind me but was too tired to trek home. So I took a danfo. I can’t wait for the weekend abeg. My family will be at home and now that the season has ended, we’ll watch BBN recaps and highlights.


    Check back for new A Week in the Life stories every first Tuesday of the month at 9 a.m. If you’d like to be featured on the series, or you know anyone interesting who fits the profile, fill out this form.

  • All the Best Sites to Get Your Coin Up as a Freelance Writer

    You may have heard there’s money in writing, and of course, you want to know if there’s any truth to it. Let me start by saying, yes, it’s true!

    So, how do you start? How do you monetise your writing skill? What are the best sites for beginners? These are the question this article will answer.

    If you’re a beginner, look online

    For someone just starting out as a freelance writer, you may not have a steady network of jobs and opportunities, so your best bet is to take advantage of legitimate sites that allow you to offer your service in exchange for a fee.

    Which freelance websites are great for beginners?

    1. Writing gig websites

    When many people think of freelance writing, they automatically think of short writing gigs in exchange for money. Many sites allow writers to offer this service, and some of them require a paid subscription to access the opportunities.

    But what if you’re not ready to drop coins when you’ve not even started earning?

    Here are some free sites where you can secure writing gigs:

    iWriter

    This is a great site for beginners. To start, you’ll have to fill out a form and complete two 250-word writer prompts. Your results will determine your level and the writing jobs you can choose from. The higher you go as a writer, the more money you’ll make. 

    Upwork

    This is arguably the most popular site for freelancers that has an excellent market for writers. It’s set up to allow bids for both short-term and long-term jobs. Another great thing about Upwork is that the site keeps a record of all work done by freelancers, which helps build your reputation.

    BloggingPro

    This site regularly offers blogging and freelance writing gigs. It’s basically a job board where freelancers can search for gigs. You may need some writing samples to prove you know your onions.


    RELATED: Zikoko’s Guide to Freelancing Like a Pro


    2. Article submission websites

    Freelance writers also have the opportunity to submit stories, articles and write-ups to certain websites and get paid. Usually, all the freelancer needs to do is study the submission guidelines carefully, pitch articles, and then, wait for feedback. If the pitch is accepted, they submit their writings and get paid.

    Some websites that offer this service include:

    Which freelance website pays the most?

    Most freelance websites offer varying rates for writing jobs depending on the nature of the article requested, the writer’s skill, negotiation ability and the party seeking the service.

    Ultimately, consistency is critical for a beginner hoping to cash out through freelance writing. Not only will it build your reputation, but the more jobs you do, the better you get at it. Of course, the money wouldn’t hurt as well. Cha-ching!


    Note: While these are trusted sites for freelance writers, prospective users are advised to do due diligence when interacting with clients and other users on the sites.

    NEXT READ: #NairaLife: She’s 26, a Content Writer, and Saving Is Her Superpower

  • An Emotionally Turbulent Week in the Life of a Fast Food Cashier

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


    Nine hours every day, Uche Uka* sells food from behind a counter at a prominent fast food restaurant, while evading stern managers. While on duty, resting is against the restaurant’s rules. But after two years of thankless service for ₦40k a month, she wants better from life

    fast food cashier social image design

    MONDAY

    Mondays are the slowest days at the fast food restaurant, maybe because many people cook during the weekend and still have food in their fridges. But I still end up tired.

    The eatery I work at opens at 7 a.m. We don’t have cleaners and support staff, I have to arrive early to clean up the store, machines, utensils and surfaces, bring the food from the kitchen to the counter and prepare for when the store opens. It’s a cashier’s duty to make sure all the food and drinks are recorded and cross-checked with the cooks. So I resume at 6 a.m.

    There are two other cashiers on my shift, and we do several jobs while the company only pays us for one. When we pleaded with management to hire cleaners, they asked us, “So, who’ll pay them?” 

    We used to open at 8 a.m., but the company decided to push it forward to cater to students and workers who stop by to pick up food on their way to school and work.

    Morning shift is supposed to last from 6 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. — eight-and-a-half hours — but that rarely happens. I often leave at around 4:30 because I’m required to settle records after my shift. Depending on the manager, they can make me stay until six. I don’t have a choice. Every single tray of food I served has to be accounted for, along with every naira. If there’s any shortage, they’ll deduct it from my ₦40k salary. 

    Every day comes with its own wahala. Sometimes, a manager can wake up on the wrong side of their bed, come to work and transfer their frustration on us. Even more often, customers bring their own problems and cause a scene. 

    Today, I left the restaurant at 4 p.m. and headed home. Even though Mondays are always slow, I’d been standing for over ten hours, so I’m tired. I’m always tired.

    TUESDAY

    Today didn’t go well at all. A pregnant woman came in and ordered takeaway basmati fried rice. A portion of the rice is two-and-half spoons and costs ​₦700​. I asked if she wanted a big-sized takeaway pack or a small one. She said, “Big.” When I handed her the food, she started complaining it was too small. 

    She accused me of not putting enough rice, even though a portion would look smaller in the larger pack. When she accused me of trying to steal her food and pocket the money, I explained to her that it’s not cashiers who set the pricing or quantities. I asked if she wanted an extra portion and she insulted my father.

    When she came in, I told her not to look at the board. She could tell me what she wanted, and I’d tell her the price. The restaurant usually updates the prices on the system, while the old price remains on the board. Maybe that’s why she called me a fraud. 

    This woman brought out a calculator and refused to pay for the pack she asked for, which costs an extra ₦150. She kept yelling and threatened to complain about me to the branch manager. Then she called the head office to complain that I’d hacked the system to cheat her and pocket her money. Me, a cashier, hacking? See me see wahala.

    I don’t understand it when people dump their frustrations on cashiers. I’m not happy at this job, but you don’t see me shouting at people.

    The manager came in and dashed her a free meal just so she could leave. Then, he turned to me and started shouting that it was my fault. Thank God I had witnesses who called him out sha. A man even told him to update the board and stop letting problematic customers harass cashiers. But even though I didn’t do anything, I still had to apologise. Because when everybody leaves, it’s me the manager will deal with. 

    The man who stood up for me tried to give me a tip for my troubles, but the manager intercepted it. Company policy is that no staff should handle cash or personal property during work hours. Usually, I have to hand over my personal belongings at the security desk and sign them in. When managers intercept tips like this, they promise to add it to our salary at the end of the month. But, for where? I know I’m never seeing that money.

    I finally got home, called my brother and told him about my day. He told me it is well and cracked jokes that made me laugh. By the time I hung up and prepared for bed, I realised I wasn’t so angry anymore.

    WEDNESDAY

    I woke up to a call that I should come in for the evening shift. These duty managers keep changing things, and I never know until the last minute. I wish they would rotate it weekly so I’ll know okay o, this week, I’m on morning shift, next week, I’m on evening shift. I’ve begged them several times to tell me my shift ahead of time, but they just do anyhow they want. We, the junior staff, don’t have a choice. If you enter any manager’s wrong side, you’ll see shege.

    I don’t like evening shift because we have to stay back to do records  even though the store closes by 10 p.m, Sometimes, I get home as late as midnight. I’ve been robbed before, and with the news of kidnapping these days, it’s very unsafe. One of my colleagues was stabbed recently. But who cares? They’ll say the insecurity also affects managers.

    The company now has a policy that workers must live a maximum of 15 minutes from the store. I wonder if they’re just mocking us because none of us can afford to live anywhere around the area.  Even my six months’ salary can’t rent a place there. When I moved to this city in 2020, I had to save for six months to get my current apartment in a villagey area about 30 minutes away. 

    But can I complain? 

    My ₦40k salary can only take me so far, but I try my best to be disciplined. My rent is ₦150k, and I make sure to save ₦20k every month for it. I get lunch at work, so I only have to bother about breakfast. Transport costs me about ₦400 daily — about ₦10k a month. I use the rest to buy provisions and toiletries. My brother lives in Lagos and supports me by paying my school fees once in a while — about ₦60–70k for my online programme at the university where I’m studying economics. 

    I ended up staying until 11 p.m. today before they said I could leave. Thank God I got home safely.

    THURSDAY

    I don’t know if everybody in this city got hungry and decided to eat fast food, but the eatery was filled to the brim, and the cashiers were so overwhelmed, one of us had to beg the manager around to help us. Jesus, the noise, fights and shouting? Two customers even got close to throwing blows because they couldn’t agree on who was next in line.

    Rush-hour days like this have become very common. We’ve been begging management to hire more people, but they said revenue isn’t enough. Every day I come to work, I stay on my feet for eight to ten hours, and my body begs for mercy. It’s against the rules to sit down. Once my shift starts, I must be on my feet until they let me go. If a manager catches you trying to rest even for one second, you don enter wahala be that.

    All I was thinking about the whole day was how I don’t have to come to work on Saturday. I work Sunday to Sunday, but I have one day off during the week. The way I’m going to sleep?

    FRIDAY

    The night  blinked by so fast my head was turning when I woke up. My first thought was how I don’t want to be stuck here. I don’t want to wake up by 5 a.m. every day, rushing to a job that’s killing my joy. But I have to pay rent, buy food and pay my school fees. 

    Even though I don’t like the job, it’s the only one I could find that I can work while schooling. Some jobs with better pay, once you tell them you’re in school, they’ll say they don’t want your wahala. So I can’t complain too much.

    I have two weeks of leave per year. My exams usually run for one week, and I have two of them each year. So I usually go on leave during exams. I’m in 200 level now and still have three years to go. 

    Exams start in two weeks, and even though it’s an online program, I have to go to campus for revision classes until exams. It’s bothering me even more because I have to go to school today. Juggling school with this cashier work is hell. After serving people on my feet for nine hours non-stop, I’ll jump into a cab and rush to school. I know I’ll be too tired to even hear what the lecturer is saying, but at least, I’ll get points for attendance, abi?

    SATURDAY

    As I am now, I’m living my life for someone else, because every day, I dress up to go and do work I don’t want to be doing. I like handling money, making sales and attending to people, but not under these conditions. It’s the reason I took this job and now, I’ve been working as a cashier for two years, but nothing has improved, but I hope that’ll change soon. 

    I want to take back control of my life. I have an idea to start supplying zobo and tiger nut drinks to restaurants, but I don’t have capital. I don’t know how lucrative it’ll be, but even if I get the same amount as my ₦40k salary in profit every month, I don’t mind. As long as I’ll have a little more control of my life and no longer have to work at the eatery. 

    From my calculations, it’ll cost about ₦700k to start because, for fast-food restaurants to even consider you as a supplier, you have to be able to deliver in large quantities consistently. I hope I can get a loan for it. The prices of things I’ll need to buy are going up every day, but God will help his child.

    I held on to this hope as I locked my door and went to work. It’s the same hope on my mind when I get back home. 

    Tomorrow is Sunday which happens to be my worst day of the week because it’s always our peak period for sales — family time out, dates, flexing, meals before and after church service, church food time with members — always a crowd.

    Nobody wants to work on Sunday morning because of all that work. But last last, someone must have to do it either by choice or force.

    Breaking free from all the stress is the only thing on my mind these days. But for now, I have to get some sleep and rest well ahead of work tomorrow.


    Check back for new A Week in the Life stories every first Tuesday of the month at 9 a.m. If you’d like to be featured on the series, or you know anyone interesting who fits the profile, fill out this form.

  • The African Creatives Using NFTs to Sell Art

    With the growing use of blockchain technology, African artists are harnessing its benefits to create communities of sellers and boost their creations in a global marketplace.

    By Patrick Nelle, bird Story Agency

    It’s an ordinary day on the web for a diverse group of African creatives; or at least, as ordinary a day as it has been since they found a new and exciting way to advance their careers.

    “Ordinary” now involves a daily gathering on Twitter Space for a long chat. The creatives mostly come from Nigeria (Lagos, Enugu, Lekki, Port-Harcourt, and other cities), but they rarely, if ever, see one another. Photographers, painters, animators… just six months ago they didn’t even know of each other’s existence. Yet, today, they have a strong community, working together to build names and sell their art on NFT marketplaces, like OpenSea, Tezos, Foundation, and others.

    NFT stands for Non-Fungible Token. It’s a digital asset based on blockchain technology (the same that is used for cryptocurrencies), that includes the name of the owner of the asset, in the blockchain. This allows the platform on which the NFT was created to keep track of who is holding it or trading it – a viable solution for artists who lack a marketplace to create financial value from the artwork they produce.

    “It helps artists to secure their work and control their revenue. He has access to the international market from where he is – in a country like Cameroon, for example. He will be able to get his royalty paid to him in perpetuity. Anytime the piece of art is resold, the artist will have an opportunity to earn a royalty”, explained Frisco D’Anconia a.k.a Kofi Akosah, the president of Africa Blockchain University, an organisation which promotes blockchain technology adoption across Africa.

    To leverage NFT opportunities, African artists are building communities to provide mutual support and promote each other. An example is the Art Support System, which came about when 24-year-old Nigerian photographer “1Jubril” saw an opportunity to promote African artists and artwork on NFT marketplaces.

    “Art support system is a community of artists-turned-friends, built out of genuine vibes and love to give artists the support within the blockchain ecosystem,” he said.


    RELATED: Why’re You Into NFTs? — We Asked 5 Black Artists


    “The recipe is quite simple, it consists in engaging each other with art posts on social media by sharing, liking and commenting. It also consists in experience-sharing, he further explained. The ultimate vision is to promote genuine African art and to champion African values on the road to becoming a force on the global stage, making it together without leaving anyone out,” 1Jubril explained.

    1Jubril joined the NFT space on February 1.

    “Like anyone, I didn’t know anybody”, he recalled.

    He followed a few people and joined spaces hosted by other artists. While he never got to meet them in person, he was inspired to create a group focusing on the opportunities for NFT art. From conversation to conversation, the space and the number of participants started to grow.

    “There’s been massive support. We’ve been expanding our reach. On Twitter, you can only have 75 people in the group. I periodically remove inactive people. So the group today is not the initial 75,” he said via Twitter messaging.

    The community attracted many young artists and has already been transformative for their careers. Temi OG, a pencil artist based in Nigeria, is among the group of emerging artists.

    “I got into the NFT community in February this year, through a friend on Instagram. I thought that NFT was only for digital artists, not for traditional artists like myself”, she recalled.

    She had tried it before but didn’t really understand anything about it, she confessed. After being introduced to the NFT Twitter community, she started to connect with people and quickly learned how to navigate the NFT universe.

    “It actually took me two months to make my first sale, which was an amazing feeling,” she remembered.

    The NFT appeal is also striking a chord in people who initially don’t have an artistic background. Based in Port Harcourt, Stanley Ebonine designates himself an “entrepreneur who sees problems as an opportunity to provide solutions”.

    Known on Twitter as Odogwu Stanley, Ebonine initiated the CruzMetaNft project. His goal is to demystify NFTs in Africa and help to boost African arts and culture, both physically and digitally – including in the Metaverse.

    “I am neither an artist nor a photographer”, said the 29-year-old who as of 2019 was still running the maritime business company founded by his father in Port-Harcourt.

    “My vision is to create a next-generation service through an NFT Blockchain to give our community and the rest of the world an equal chance to see African culture like never before. We sincerely believe that our project can create a globally-accepted service in promoting African culture, and collaborate with talented African artist creators, innovators, blockchain and smart contract experts,” he further detailed.

    The Art Support System community has been very supportive of the project, Ebonine said. Since starting his NFT journey, he has produced 15 NFT art pieces, himself. He is also a collector and has so far acquired 6 NFT artworks from African artists.

    According to 1Jubril, Art Support System now has over 250 members. As Twitter allows only 75 people per group, he is turning to other apps to scale the community. That is important as there is growing interest from Ghana and South Africa, as well as from the rest of the continent.


    READ ALSO: He Donated $500K+ Worth of ETH to Support an Art and Dance Academy. How Did He Do It and Why?


    Cover image by Uzunov Rostislav on Pexels

  • I Love My Job, But I Hate The Fact That I Have to Work

    I love my job (don’t worry, I’m not being threatened to say this); it gives me the freedom to express myself and my creativity while also working with the best colleagues. But even as much as I love my job, I hate having to wake up every day to sit in front of a desk.  

    My company pays me to create funny, ridiculous TikToks — TikToks where I get to slander my colleagues — and I still hate working. I hate that enduring capitalism will be my life for the next 15 – 20 years. Doesn’t matter if it’s answering to an employer or working for myself. In an ideal world, I’d wake up every day and do whatever I want, whenever I wanted, without any financial pressure. 

    I asked the seven other young Nigerians how they felt about working. Their opinions: 

    Ibrahim*, 23, Writer and Content Creator 

    For some people, the fact that they have the opportunity to work is a blessing. Also, people say they hate work until they stop working. I know a few people who quit their jobs, and after a few months, they got bored. As for me, I hate work. I don’t want to work ever again in my life. I just want to have enough money to travel once in a while and live a happy life with my family. 

    ALSO READ: This Public Relations Writer Is Tired of Writing for Money — A Week in the Life

    Adeola*, 24, Lawyer

    Even if I liked painting. I would still hate waking up and picking up a brush to paint instead of watching series on Netflix.  

    Amanda*, 23, Banker

    I love working. My dislike for work started when I began working a 9–5. Before then, I was making and selling different types of braided wigs, and I thoroughly enjoyed doing that. I don’t mind having a ton of work to do, as long as I get to do it on my own time. A 9–5 doesn’t give you that, and that’s the major problem I have with work.  

    Fred*, 26,  Architect 

    What I hate about work mostly is the commute. The fact that I have to get up, leave my house and enter traffic every day makes me not want to work. Also, I hate work when it becomes monotonous and begins to feel like a chore. Other than that, I actually enjoy working.

    Amina*, 28, Director, Writer and Producer

    I don’t mind working, but does it have to be every day? I want to work when I feel like it. For me, that’s like twice a year; I spend six months writing a script and use the other six to shoot and edit. There’s a lot less pressure on me this way. The pressure is what I hate the most about working.

    Nnamdi*, 35, Entrepreneur

    Everything gets stressful to do at some point. Athletes have some days when they just don’t feel like playing. Artists sometimes hate that they have to perform, and even actors sometimes hate that they have to wake up early and go on set. You love it o, but some days, it’ll be wahala. The love for it is what keeps you going. But even sleeping can get stressful once it becomes a job. 

    ALSO READ: 9 Nigerians Talk About Being Overworked And Underpaid

    Bob*, 22, Writer 

    Sometimes I like my job. Often enough to forget how much it sucks. But I hate the fact that I have to work. Knowing it’ll be my life for a couple more years is scary. It kills me that I’ll have to wake up every day before 8 a.m, and my life belongs to someone else until 6 p.m. I’ll always be tired, and it’s not going away anytime soon. 

    ALSO READ: 4 Ways To Achieve A Better Work-Life Balance

    Debo*, 27, Writer 

    I hate my job. I genuinely do. Maybe it’s because I’m exhausted, but I don’t even care for what I do anymore. No matter how much you’re making or love your job, you’ll start to resent it if you don’t take breaks. It’s a “too much of a good thing turns into a major problem” kind of thing. We all just need to dissociate from work once in a while. 


     Next, read about how Young Nigerians Are Breaking the Monotony of Working From Home in 2022

  • An Impatient Week in the Life of a Debt Collector at a Digital Bank

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



    For nine hours every day, 26-year-old Daisy* calls 180 loan defaulters to get them to pay up their debts. But when she’s overlooked for a promotion after two years, she starts doing the bare minimum while she figures out her next career move.

    Graphic image of a customer service agent for A Week in the life of a debt collector
    Photo by MART PRODUCTION via Pixels

    MONDAY

    My typical day starts at 7 a.m., but I go back to sleep and wake up fully by eight most days. If I had to go to the office, I’d wake up at six and leave my house at seven. But thank God my company now lets people like me, who’ve been on the job for a long time, work from home. 

    I take my bath and do skin care — even though I work from home, it’s annoying that I have to use sunscreen, according to skincare experts. SMH. Then I hotspot my smartphone to my laptop and get ready to get through the day. My work is straightforward: I ask customers to pay up their gbese. I’m pretty much a call centre agent, so when a call comes to me, it’s because a customer has picked up and I’m an available agent. 

    I interact with customers until 6 p.m. when I log off. 5 p.m. is the official closing time, but everyone is used to working until six because, targets. If I need to take breaks, they have to be for less than 30 minutes each. But I can’t complain. 

    After work, I’m too tired to do anything, so I fry eggs, drink tea or order food. I don’t have time to cook a full meal because of my limited break time. I spend the rest of the night social media-ing, and catching up on texts and calls from friends, before going to bed around 11 p.m.

    TUESDAY

    At 8:50 a.m. when I sat at my desk to meditate before my first call today, I thought about how my target used to be 150 calls per day. It soon increased to 160. As the company continued to expand, they increased the loan collection targets till I was making 180 complete calls per day — a complete call means I dialled, the customer picked, and I introduced myself: “Hi, my name is Daisy. I’m calling you from [insert company name].”

    The day flies by as I take call after call and try to keep my cool because I’m not a very patient person. Word on the gossip line is the company has struggled to raise funding recently. It seems the company’s runway is depleting, and so, there’s serious pressure to recover as much money from debtors as possible. 

    My company used to outsource loan collections to an agency I worked for, but during COVID, they terminated the contract, and I got laid off. Then I applied to join the company’s in-house collections team and got in. At first, I was a high performer, hitting my targets and winning departmental awards. But after personnel changes and reviews, the workplace became toxic.

    The turning point was when I got passed on for a promotion. As one of the founding members, I’d been recommended by a team lead and even worked in the marketing team temporarily. I was enjoying my new role upstairs, and for three weeks, I thrived. Then HR came from nowhere and said they weren’t aware of the arrangement, and they’d already hired two people for the role. They sent me back to the loan collection team. I was devastated. Since then, I’ve been on autopilot. 

    They made things worse by encouraging competition to the point of toxicity. People would come to work from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m. because the more calls you make, the higher your chances of recovering money. All this just so they could meet targets and get paltry bonuses. I did it for a while and would earn an extra ₦45k here or ₦60k there. But the payment didn’t match the effort.

    That’s why they’re expanding the loan collection team from the current 65 people to 100 by the end of the year. So I expect the targets to keep increasing. Things are bad, and the economic downturn in the country means people aren’t making enough to pay back their loans. This makes the work much harder for us, and we’re scared of being laid off.

    WEDNESDAY

    Omo. Today, I lost my shit. I understand people are struggling, but please na. I already hate when they assign me late buckets — people more than one month overdue — but this guy who’d defaulted for 35 days and counting was still doing anyhow. I’m supposed to ask why they’re delaying payments, and then, figure out a way to get them to “drop something”. 

    But this guy hadn’t shown any commitment, by making a part payment or even extending his loan. So I told him, “How much can we get from you today, Mister man?! Me too, I used to borrow money na. What’s all this?”

    I get the late bucket customers because I’m one of the more experienced people on the team, but nobody pays me for the extra stress. Loan defaulters can be so annoying. They feel like we debt collectors can’t do anything because the company’s penalties are lenient. We only charge them a tiny percentage in late payment fees for a week, and then, we attempt to auto-debit their accounts. But these sneaky people leave their accounts empty. 

    What we do is flag them as credit defaulters, but most ordinary Nigerians don’t even care. Only those trying to leave the country or who need good credit scores to run businesses do. But those kinds of people rarely default on their loans. 

    When I’m introducing myself to customers, I have to prepare myself because, depending on their mood, conversations can go south very quickly. Sometimes, it’s difficult to stick to the script. 

    I’m not proud of going off on that guy today. But sometimes, when they start moving mad, I want to give it back to them hot-hot. Our calls are recorded, and my quality assurance (QA) score will surely take a hit, but we move.

    THURSDAY

    Today, there’s gossip going around that the company’s trying to review the bonus structure again, but I don’t even care. The base pay for my role is ₦110k monthly. Just as recently as three months ago, people got up to an extra ₦80k if they met three key performance indices (KPIs): QA score, output and recovery. 

    The old system was something like this: If my team calls 1m customers, we’re supposed to recover at least 70% of the debt. If I call 3k customers in a month and they were owing ₦3m, I must recover at least 70% of the money. If I hit my 70% target, and my team meets its 70%, it means I’d meet the recovery KPI.

    I also need a QA score of 90%, which is measured by following the call script, being empathetic, maintaining a certain tone of voice and requesting complete or part payments. This has been my biggest issue as I usually score between 82% and 89%. I don’t care about customers’ reasons for defaulting payment. Just pay the money you owe.

    Before my first short break at around 1:30 p.m., I called a debtor, and before I even finished introducing myself, she’d started shouting, “Ahn ahn! I already told you people I don’t have any money. Please please please, you people should let me rest. Your colleague called me yesterday and the day before yesterday. Why will you be calling somebody every day?”

    Wait o, am I not supposed to ask them for the money they promised to pay? Shey she dey whyne me ni? Is she the only person who’s ever borrowed money? What kind of nonsense is this na? When I dropped the call, I knew I was going to score zero on QA, but God no go shame me. 

    Some defaulters even lie that they’ve paid and there must be something wrong with our app. Mad people.

    All this stress and they’re still changing the rules. The most recent one was them introducing some kind of tier system for bonuses. Basically, even if you meet your 180 calls per day and score above 90% in QA, if you didn’t recover up to 70% of the top performer’s recovery in the team, your other two metrics have gone to waste. It’s things like these that cause unhealthy competition and working conditions.

    We wouldn’t go for breaks just because we were trying to meet targets. Some people didn’t even have time to eat; they’d bring food to work and take it back home. Even me that likes to talk, my mouth was paining me.

    I no longer give a fuck about the job. Imagine doing backbreaking work nine hours a day, for ₦110k a month with bonus wey no even sure. You recover millions for a company, but your money or career isn’t increasing or improving. 

    I’d hoped I’d grow in the role and, in two years, become a team lead or get into project management or digital marketing or something. But I’m stuck in the same role, and there’s not much room to grow, so I have to start looking out for myself. 

    These days, I’m just doing enough to not lose my job. I won’t do more than I’m paid for because fintech won’t kill me for my mother. All the OGs are already leaving the company. I’m just biding my time while I figure out my next move.

    FRIDAY

    I’m always grateful for Fridays because I’m a social butterfly. Work may weigh me down, but when I turn up? I turn up. As I turn on my laptop, all I’m looking forward to is close of work so I can go to SOUTH and unwind. I’m tired. All my body needs right now is their Long Island. The thought of it is the only thing that’ll get me through the day.

    While I’m having lunch and taking a break from those annoying loan defaulters, I think about trying new things and keeping at them. In the recent past, I’ve tried project management. I finished the course, but I got bored when it was time to apply my knowledge. I’ve also tried data analysis, SQL and digital marketing, and now, I’m about to complete a course in virtual assistance. Maybe my experience in customer relations and communication would help me thrive in that role.

    I often think I don’t have the grit to succeed, but maybe I’m just scared of starting over in an entry-level role. I don’t know again abeg. Too much thinking and too little time. I finish eating and get back to work.

    My weekend afternoons are for the virtual assistant course I’m taking. Evenings are for “we outside”. When next Monday comes, I’ll face it bravely.


    Check back for new A Week in the Life stories every first Tuesday of the month at 9 a.m. If you’d like to be featured on the series, or you know anyone interesting who fits the profile, fill out this form.

  • The 10 Stages of Getting an Internship in Nigeria

    Picture this: You’re excited at the idea of getting a salary and joining the 9-5 gang — or at least leaving house chores behind — so you decide to get an internship.

    Get ready because you’ll likely experience the following stages.

    Rejection

    Wait, shouldn’t internships be easier to get? What are all these rejection emails in your inbox then?

    The “for-the-experience” offers aka no salary

    Yes, we know internships are for the experience. But try explaining to the bus conductor taking you from Ikeja to Ajah that there’s more to life than money.

    The internships with the most ridiculous requirements

    These ones deserve a special place in Ajah traffic. You want an intern who can speak seven languages? Just tell us you want to employ our Lord and personal saviour. 

    The ones with the sketchy job descriptions

    You don’t need anyone to tell you that these ones want to either steal your kidney or collect the remaining ₦2k in your account.

    You finally get the internship, but you actually have to work

    Did you think internships were only for taking corporate wear selfies and filling a spot on your LinkedIn profile? 


    RELATED: Nigerian Graduates Share Their First Job Hunting Experience


    You start doing more than your job description

    You start to wonder if these people mistakenly put out an internship vacancy when they really wanted an operations manager.

    You start running personal errands

    At some point, someone will send you to buy semo for them. 

    You begin to understand why everyone hates adulting

    Your whole life becomes a wake-up-and-go-to-work cycle. Also, forget about weekends. You’ll be too tired to even consider any jaiye jaiye activity.

    You start asking yourself why you wanted an internship in the first place

    Especially when it looks like you’re the only one working in the entire office.

    You realise it’s actually not that bad

    At least you’ll get the experience employers always look for in fresh graduates. So keep enduring, that’s adulting for you.


    NEXT READ: “Let the ASUU Strike Continue” — These 5 Students Are More Interested in Making Money Online

  • My Weirdest Gig: I Worked on a Client’s Dating Profile

    Two minutes stories about straight up odd and sometimes questionable things people have done for some cash.

    Amaka* is a 26-year-old freelance business writer living in Lagos, Nigeria. A typical writing gig for her involves press releases, business profiles and whitepapers. Nothing prepared her for being paid to write a client’s dating profile.

    This was Amaka’s weirdest gig.

    Image source: Katerina Holmes via Pexels

    Typically, when you first come across Upwork, you’re at the point where you’re seriously considering quick money-making jobs that’ll bring you as many dollars as possible.

    As a writer who’s seen crazy in the hands of Nigerian business owners (read as: having done multiple underpaid jobs and never getting paid on time, if at all),  I was more than ready to leave the Nigerian business space for a long time.

    So, when I learnt about this site that’d allow me to get foreign clients in 2019, I jumped at it.

    It went pretty well in the first year. I got the odd $20 jobs here and there, but 2020 was when I really blew. I’d established myself as a business writer and got a few repeat clients. But that’s where the story gets weird.

    Upwork has agencies, which are basically like a group of freelancers that work directly with clients, and there was this one I regularly worked with. Even though it’s against Upwork’s regulations to communicate with clients off the platform before an official contract is in place, I got direct access to this guy and he’d regularly give me jobs off the platform.


    RECOMMENDED: We Curated These Sites to Help You Make Money Online


    In June 2020, he reached out to me and said he had an urgent task for me. Of course, I’m always ready for dollars, so I just told him to send it. Imagine my shock when the brief turned out to be his Tinder dating profile. According to him, I had a great way with words, and he’d been stuck on what to do. He offered me $15 to write the profile, help select a picture and even come up with a banging one-liner in case he matched with someone.

    I’m still shocked to this day why he even thought of contracting out such a thing, but hey, I’m not an Igbo girl for nothing. I didn’t bother to ask long questions — I just did it and got my money. Easiest 20 minutes of my life.

    Looking back now, I should have declined because that business relationship scattered within a month. Apparently, seeing that I was open to helping him do that gave him the morale to offer me money for nude pictures. I couldn’t report to Upwork because we already broke a rule by contacting each other off the platform.

    I marked his email address as spam and moved on with my life. I like money, but I don’t like it that much.


    *Subject’s name has been changed to protect her identity.


    Wouldn’t you like to read a newsletter that helps you dig into all the good, bad and extremely bizarre things happening in Nigeria and why they’re important to you? Then you should sign up for Game of Votes.


    NEXT READ: “Let the ASUU Strike Continue” — These 5 Students Are More Interested in Making Money Online

  • “Let the ASUU Strike Continue” — These 5 Students Are More Interested in Making Money Online

    Since FG and ASUU decided to go on their annual vacation beat the drums of war again in February 2022, Nigerian students have been the most affected party

    For some students, it’s an endless wait for the strike to end, while for others, it’s time to keep busy one way or the other, at least till school resumes. 

    Meme depicting a male person using a local grinding stone, with the words "steady grinding".

    I spoke to five students who have been using the time to make money online, and they told me how they came across these money-making sites and why they don’t care how long the strike lasts.

    “To be honest, I’ve moved on with my life”

    — Arin*, 19

    For the first two months of the strike, I just sat at home washing plates and doing nothing else. I tried to convince my dad to let me get a job, but he kept going, “What if they call off the strike soon?”

    Luckily, a friend introduced me to Fiverr, and since I’m good at making designs, I thought to try offering graphic design services. She kept telling me that it might be a long time before I make any money on Fiverr, so I spent time learning about the website in order to understand it better.

    I’ve done two gigs since I joined in April 2022, and while it may not be too impressive, it’s a big deal for someone just starting out. The strike can go on for as long as they like; I want to get better at this and earn dollars abeg.


    RELATED: We Curated These Sites to Help You Make Money Online


    “I now have a full-time remote job”

    — Nino*, 23

    This strike has me stuck in final year, and as someone who already feels too old to be in school, it’s been more than annoying.

    Immediately after they extended the one-month warning strike, I decided to take my freelance writing more seriously. I collated all my write-ups using Journo Portfolio, an online writing portfolio website, and started reaching out to connections on LinkedIn.

    I eventually connected with someone who needed blog articles for their baby food site, and that’s what I’ve been doing. I earn ₦80k (more if I get other freelance roles that month), and I’m actively searching for more [writing] opportunities. School is the last thing on my mind.

    “I’m trying to get better at affiliate marketing”

    Ola*, 21

    I’ll always advocate for the “school is a scam” narrative. I’m almost grateful for the strike because I’m not even looking forward to struggling to graduate with a second class lower in Physics.

    I already know my degree may be useless, so I’m always looking for other opportunities. I got into affiliate marketing with Expertnaire in July 2022, and I just made my first sale last month. I’m already on the path to making good money with it, and that’s my priority now.

    “I want to work in a foreign firm before the end of the year”

    — Tinu*, 21

    I started looking for a job immediately after they announced the one-month warning strike in February 2022 because I knew there was no money coming from anywhere. This proved difficult cause I live on Lagos mainland, and everything I saw was Island-based.

    I have some skills in social media management, so when my church organised a free content marketing training in March 2022, I jumped on it. I now work with the organiser of this training (she has a company) and I’m good, if I do say so myself.

    I’m really inspired by this Nairalife subject who earns $93k a year doing the same thing I do, and my goal is to work [remotely] for a foreign firm and earn in dollars before the end of this year.

    “I’ve made $200 in a week. Who school epp?”

    — Josiah*, 20

    I’m a writer, and I’ve been on Upwork for about two years but had only done two gigs before this strike started.

    When the strike looked like it’d be everlasting, I got bored and decided to revamp my Upwork profile and actually pay attention to it. Just last month, in July 2022, I got a copyediting gig that paid $200. It was for an entire book, and man, when I tell you that I went above and beyond, I overdid sef. 

    I was so excited. I’ve not withdrawn the money yet because I’m waiting for the exchange rate to get even higher. I’m ready to die on Upwork now. ASUU and the entire federal government will be alright.


    *Names have been changed, and answers slightly edited for clarity.


    Wouldn’t you like to read a newsletter that helps you dig into all the good, bad and extremely bizarre things happening in Nigeria and why they’re important to you? Then you should sign up for Game of Votes.


    NEXT READ: Nigerian Students Will Fight You for These Statements During the ASUU Strike

  • This Public Relations Writer Is Tired of Writing for Money — A Week in the Life

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


    After failing to get a job with his pharmacy degree, Nicholas* switched to content writing. Now on a ₦135k monthly salary, he’s tired of doing the same things every day to put food on the table. What’s an ideal future for him? To get crypto writing gigs that’ll make him a millionaire.

    Phot of a tired man with the caption: This Public Relations Writer Is Tired of Writing for Money — A Week in the Life

    MONDAY

    Every day, I wake up between 6 and 7 a.m. to do the same things: devotion, and meditation, and then I resume work at 9 a.m. I work remotely, so I only have my bath after my team’s standup meeting around 10 a.m. Then I ask my assistant to run me through my to-do list, which typically doesn’t have much to excite me.

    I’m the head of communications at a company that creates courses for professional development to help people get into crypto. My job is straightforward: I manage all public relations going out of the company, including content writing and design. And even though the marketing team handles social media, all their content still has to go through me to ensure they match our brand tone and voice.

    After work, I close my laptop and either pick up a book or watch TV and sleep. The next day, I do the same things all over again.

    TUESDAY

    In 2015, I graduated with a pharmacy degree, did my internship in 2017 and served the following year. But when I tried to get into the job market, I realised, omo, e be like this thing no too pure. From hospitals to institutions in Ebonyi and Abuja, where did I not apply to? My dad even sent my CVs up and down. After a few months, I told myself, “It’s like I will use what I have to get what I want o.” 

    I used to write stories before I graduated, so I decided to try content writing in early 2019. I worked for someone in the United Kingdom for six months. It was hell. The man was supposed to pay me ₦80k, but I was doing everything in the company: manager work o, designer work o, even personal assistant. But he had the nerve to still delay my chicken change salary every month. 

    Before my birthday in June, I begged this man to pay me my money on time. He said, “Okay, I’ll look into it.” Oya now, birthday came and passed, and man did me “Aired DFKM” on top money I worked hard for. He paid me for June in July, and delayed my August and September salaries. By October, I couldn’t take these delays anymore, so I quit.

    I was out of a job until the COVID-19 lockdown in March 2020, doing odd freelance jobs and collecting small small money. Then the CEO of my current company reached out to me to join his startup. I’d edited his pitch deck for free a while back, so when he reached out to me, it was to offer me the job.

    I started in the company as a content writer, and after 10 months, I got promoted to head of communications. My job is pretty monotonous these days, but I prefer it to when I worked as a pharmacy intern. 

    As I take my bath after morning stand-up today, I think how different my current life isfrom when I was practising pharmacy. Before, I’d have to be at work attending to patients from 8 a.m. until 8 p.m. It was stressful as fuck, and I always returned home drained. Now, my schedule is flexible; I work from home, lead a team and delegate tasks.

    When I get back to my work table, I dive into monotonous work for the next six hours: planning webinars, editing course content and looking for ways to improve the company’s processes for external communications — same old, same old.

    WEDNESDAY

    Omo, they’re dragging my boss today. The thing about startups is we make mistakes and learn as we go. In an ideal setting, the marketing team should involve me in their projects at the planning stage, But omo, these guys just created briefs, wrote up documents, got them approved by management and brought them to me to edit at the 11th hour. I was like, WTF? But management pressured me to just do it like that and keep it moving.

    There was a backlash when the information went public, just as I’d warned. And as things heated up on the TL, I advised everyone to not respond to anything until we figured out damage control. But the CEO entered the dragging, and things got messy on Twitter, Facebook and in our Whatsapp community groups. I was so pissed because we could’ve handled the situation better, but this man no dey hear word. Omo, they ratioed his life so much I had to involve the company lawyer.

    It’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed. But I check the time. It’s still 3 p.m. Why does time crawl when you’re not having fun?

    I just mute my Twitter app and continue working on the document I’ve been drafting for the past week. It contains the plan to help smoothen the flow of information across teams to prevent stuff like this from happening in future.

    THURSDAY

    After all the drama of yesterday, when I woke up this morning, my body kind of refused to get the memo that work continues, but sapa is always a good motivator.

    During today’s standup meeting, I ran through my plan for improving communications, and it hit me that I don’t have regrets about switching from pharmacy to content and PR sha. I sabi work; it’s just I’m not where I want to be.

    These days, my life is a blur. There’s no passion. When I wake up in the morning, there’s no ginger, nothing to look forward to. I’m tired of writing just to put food on the table and pay bills. Between 2017 and 2019, I used to write stories to submit to journals and magazines, and there was always something to look forward to. I miss the thrill of getting acceptance letters and the heartbreak of rejections, for example.

    Now, I’m just tired of the monotony of corporate daily life. I’m doing the same things every day and not earning enough.

    My company currently pays me ₦135k net, and I get an extra ₦100 – ₦120k from freelance work. I want to earn millions, so I don’t have to take on so much work in my spare time to make up for my salary. I need to have time to create content I love.

    I can’t wait for the weekend sha. I took this gig recently, writing about crypto stuff for a guy who pays me ₦8 per word. For him to be able to pay me that much, he probably earns close to a million naira monthly. He’s a middleman who gets contracts and outsources them to me, but I found someone who gets gigs from a direct source and has promised to link me up as long as I can build my portfolio and show workings. I plan to do just that, so help me God.


    *Subject’s name has been changed to protect his identity


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