Notice: Function _load_textdomain_just_in_time was called incorrectly. Translation loading for the wordpress-seo domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home/bcm/src/dev/www/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6121
awitl | Zikoko!

Quizzes

Stacks

Shows

Podcasts

Newsletters

Naira Life

Love Life

Hustleprint

Love Currency

Sunken Ships

What She Said

My Bro

So You Don’t Have To

Interview With…

Zikoko Memes

Jollof Road

Cholera Outbreak Update

Follow our socials

  • Toddlers Are Always Trying to Harm Themselves — A Week in the Life of a Stay-at-Home Mum

    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 today’s “A Week In The Life” is a stay-at-home mum looking after a toddler. She talks about having to resign from her job while pregnant, the many ways toddlers try to off themselves and why she has no regrets even though some parts of her life are currently strenuous.

    MONDAY:

    Midnight:

    My day starts at this time for two reasons: either because my son took a late afternoon nap and he hasn’t slept yet, or he’s asleep and I’m boiling hot water and packing his food for when he wakes up around 3 a.m. to eat. 

    Thankfully, today is the latter. 

    The past couple of days have been intense: My son, his royal highness, has been refusing to sleep early, so my husband and I have had to take turns to beg him to sleep, sing for him, give him a night shower, and rock him to sleep under the AC. But, we didn’t do all that before he slept off today. 

    The day started with the voice of my baby waking me up around 10 a.m. In the previous days, my son would probably still be asleep by that time. And that’s why when I looked at the time after waking up, I started his day with a bath, a meal and general grooming activities. By the time I was done at 11 a.m., he was fully prepared to make my day a circus. 

    At one point, I was washing his plates from the morning meal, using my side-eye to monitor him, picking up after his mess and at the same time, considering running away from everything. 

    Before I blinked, it was 1 p.m. and I found myself changing diapers because he had pooed. Afterwards, I fed him again. Then I spent the next few hours fighting him for my phone to prevent him from smashing the phone or downloading weird apps and videos. 

    One minute I was hiding my phone, the next, it was 3 p.m. and I was setting the mood for nap time. Down went the blinds, up went the A.C, out went the diapers, into his tummy went water and then baby was gently rocked.  

    The moment I heard his first snore, I put him gently into his cot, tiptoed away quietly, and crammed all of the day’s chores into his sleep time. By the time I heard his first cry two hours later, I had already successfully washed, dried and ironed his clothes from the previous week. 

    Luckily, I didn’t have to hold him for long because his dad got back home a few hours after he woke up. From the front door, before he even had any time to catch his breath, I handed his child to him alongside baby food to feed to him. 

    After his meal and small rough play, he safely tucked himself into the arms of his dad. From then on, it was a waiting game for him to fall asleep. By 9:30 p.m., he was in dreamland. Then, my own day began and I could finally press my phone and catch up with the world. 

    Now, I’m up at midnight making plans for when he wakes up to eat in the middle of the night. Nothing serious. Just another week keeping up with a one year and eight months old baby. 

    TUESDAY:

    The first thought in my head when I hear the voice of my baby this morning is, “how do mothers who work while raising kids do it?” Because watching an active toddler for 30 minutes is enough to drive anyone insane. Not to add the stress of a 9-5 on top. 

    I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve screamed “no, no, no” today. In fact, one of the first things my baby learned to say was “no, no, no” because of how frequently I say it to him. If I’m not chasing him, he’s chasing me. Yet, I’ll still be the one who needs a foot massage from my husband at the end of a workday. Children are terrorists and I don’t know where they get their energy from. 

    When I talk to more experienced mothers, I hear that this is still the “good stage.” Apparently, my baby is still going to pass through terrible twos and threes, which means he’ll still show me more pepper. The thought of this alone is enough to make me not want another child. 

    For this child, my life literally stopped when I got pregnant. I went from being the best salesperson for a particular product at an FMCG to being asked to resign at work the next year due to pregnancy complications. Nothing hurt as much as watching 6 years and 4 months of my life slip through the cracks because I couldn’t show up at work like I used to. What made it more painful was seeing my company not caring for my well-being as much as I did for theirs. 

    Outside of work, don’t even get me started on the weird pregnancy cravings: coke in a glass bottle and not plastic coke. Vanilla ice cream from Chicken Republic. Garri water. Cold Nutri C or Ribena. 

    Not to talk of pregnancy complications such as always wanting to vomit, spitting every day — and my husband having to regularly empty and wash my spit cup — and losing almost 7 kg of weight under two months. 

    I can’t imagine going through this again, especially now that this time I’ll have to look after two kids. Although, occasionally, when I think about how much I love my son, the love of my life, aka the terrorist of my life, I find myself reconsidering my decision. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    We’re up early this morning. By we, I mean my son, his dad and me. Today is for spending time with grandma so mummy can have time off to run a few errands. Top of the list is to crochet a few beanies and scarves for sale as a supplementary source of income. 

    Since I left my job, I’ve been asking myself how women live and raise kids without jobs. While I recognise that this is a privileged stance, I still can’t help but wonder. The only reason I haven’t lost my mind is that I saved up a lot of money while I was still working a proper 9-5. It was just in late 2020 that I converted my crochet hobby into a side business for extra income and a sense of control in a chaotic routine. Even though the crocheting business is decent, I’m making plans to return to the corporate world in 2022 when my baby turns two. I’ve already started putting out feelers for a sales role in FMCG or a customer success specialist in a tech company. 

    However, nothing has come out for now. I know it’s just a matter of time before I hit my dreams. 

    But that one is in the future. Today, the only thing on my mind is how many scarves and hats I can make between when I drop off my son and when I have to pick him. 

    THURSDAY:

    To the untrained observer, toddlers are adorable balls of goodness that can do no harm. To us, the initiated, these toddlers are tiny balls of energy bent on harming themselves.

    This afternoon, I looked away for just one second and my child had scaled his cot. One minute he was inside and safe, the next, I heard gbim, watched him land on his arm and saw him run to me while crying. Thank God the arm is still working fine. 

    After that episode, he went climbing the glass table. As I was running towards him, he kept shouting “no, no, no.” In my head, I was like if you’re shouting that word, then you know what you’re doing is bad, so why are you still doing it? 

    During a diaper change, while I was disposing of the used napkins, this boy went to touch live socket. I was too shocked to react until after I had removed him from danger. Then, I had to explain to him why electricity is not child’s play. 

    As if that warning was not enough, this boy entered the kitchen and was playing with the gas cylinder. 

    The last thing I remember from today is calling my husband on the phone to come and carry his child before he kills me. 

    FRIDAY:

    My mother-in-law is around, so today is a good day already. Whenever she’s around, I’m rest assured to get the necessary time off to breathe. After yesterday’s episode, I’m glad she’s around. I’m confident that between her shift in the morning and my husband’s shift at night, they can look after my son. I’m rooting for them. 

    Me, I’m focusing on catching my breath for as long as I can. Transitioning from wife to mother has been one hell of a journey. Sometimes I just sit down and say that this tiny grain of rice that was once in my tummy is now breathing, living, terrorising and I’ love it. This person came out of my stomach. That is, na me born am. Small me of yesterday is now a mother. Wow. 

    As much as I complain, cry, and fuss about the stress of raising a child, I don’t think I’d change anything if I could go back in time. For me, regardless of the stress, there has been no greater joy than seeing someone who is half of me and half of the person I love. 

    In fact, if you asked me to absolutely change anything today, the one thing I’d probably change is the TV channel. My mother-in-law put the television on Zee World but, I want to watch good-old Law and Order SVU to kickoff my relaxation. 

    I too am someone’s child. 

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , , , , ,
  • “Why Won’t We Speed All The Time?” — A Week In The Life Of An Okada Man

    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.

    Riding an okada for a living in Lagos is almost like being in a badly written movie. With villains like agberos, taskforce and police, on the road, any day without an incident is nothing short of a miracle. Have you ever wondered what makes a person ride okada for a living? And why okada riders are always in a hurry? Today’s “A Week In The Life” shows just why.

    MONDAY:

    My alarm wakes me up by 5:30 a.m. The first thing I do after standing up is to perform ablution. Next, I take a five-minute walk to the mosque. At the mosque, in between sermons, and just before solat, I find myself battling with sleep. It takes all my power to not fall asleep. Thankfully, as I start to lose the battle, the imam starts the prayer. 

    We’re done around 6:05 a.m., and I return home. “Home” is a compound where 27 other people and I, mostly non-Lagosians, pay money to sleep in every night. ₦200 per night for a human being and ₦200 per night for our okadas. What benefits do we get? A small room with no windows and a bathroom without running water.

    So, when I get back from the mosque — every morning — I have to ride my bike to the nearest public tap three streets away to have my bath along with my okada brothers. At around 6:35 a.m., I go back home to dress up, and I’m ready to hit the road by 6:50 a.m.

    Before I even make any money, I’m already behind by ₦1,400 every day.  First, I buy a ticket from the agberos for N700. This is minus the ₦50 here and there that I have to pay agberos at every junction in my vicinity, which cost around another ₦700 in total. This is minus the ₦1,200 that I deliver to the owner of the okada at the end of each day. 

    So, you have ₦1,400 + ₦1,200 + ₦200 to sleep + ₦200 to park my bike = ₦3,000 before my day even starts — I haven’t even factored in money for fuel or food during the day. 

    The worst parts? There are more okada riders than people willing to pay for okada. Also, I can’t work late into the night. Once it’s 6:30/7:00 p.m., I have to close for the day because if police catch me, my money na ₦11,000. If Lagos Taskforce catch me, my money na ₦22,000. 

    After doing calculations, you realise that ₦4,000 – ₦5,000 is the most an okada rider can make in a day. So, tell me: why won’t okada riders speed all time? 

    Anyway, it is well though. The main thing now is that work has started and for the next 12 hours I have to out-earn my expenses. I’m hoping for nothing short of miracles.  

    TUESDAY:

    Walahi, today I didn’t make any money for myself. Na only ₦2,550 I don make all day before Task Force came to arrest our okadas. If you see the way we ran for our lives. Me that I collected okada from someone, how will I explain if they seize it? 

    It’s so annoying because there are some people who disguise themselves like Task Force to steal our bikes. Then, they’ll now go and resell it at a cheaper price. So, we also have to be on the lookout for those ones too. Sometimes, because you’re not sure who is who, you’ll end up dragging with the real Task Force who will beat you like a thief because they think you’re dragging power with them. Just last year, this thing still happened to my brother. They beat him, collected his bike and we still had to pay to bail him. 

    But walahi, the woman who gave him the okada is so nice. She told him not to worry and even bought him a smaller bike to be using while repaying her small small for the old bike. Alhamdulilah because he just finished paying her last month. 

    Me, I don’t want that to ever happen to me, and that’s why I’m going home after running from Task Force. By the time I remove ₦1,200 for the bike owner, ₦400 for sleeping and parking, ₦500 for fuel, I have only ₦450 left. And I still have to buy a ₦700 ticket tomorrow morning because agbero won’t hear any story. 

    When I get home, my plan is to go around begging my other brothers for money. ₦200 or ₦300 here and there can help with food this night and a ticket tomorrow. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    I have noticed that sometimes when I’m riding okada, my mind is not there. In this job, you’re constantly thinking about tomorrow because even if you say Alhamdullilah today, you don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Most times, there’s no hope for tomorrow.  

    I can’t help thinking about my past. I came from Mokwa town — in Niger state — to hustle in Lagos because my helper died. Before before, I used to do business. One Igbo man in Lagos used to send me money to help him buy rice, beans, corn, in large quantities from Mokwa and send down to him. My profit on each bag was like ₦200/₦300 and I would get around ₦50,000 from each deal. On top of that, the man still dashed me money at intervals, so I was okay. It was out of this money I used to marry and rent a house in Niger state. 

    Everything was going sweet until I got a call one day that my business partner was dead. How? Road accident. His business and family went just like that. I didn’t even know how to respond because I was sad about his death but also worried about my future after his death. It’s funny that it wasn’t until I started feeling the effect of not doing that business again that I even remembered that my business partner was owing me ₦166,000 before his death. 

    It has been more than one year since the accident happened. Except on days when I’m thinking about my life, I don’t like to think about him because remembering my old life is painful. Nevertheless, I still carry around the biggest reminder from that era — the Android phone my business partner bought for me when the going was still good. 

    Last last, this life just get as e be. 

    THURSDAY:

    The only thing that’s keeping me going today is the thought of the sleep I’ll sleep on Sunday because I’m so tired. Because I’m not the owner of the bike, I’m always working come rain or sunshine. The only off day I get is on Sunday and that’s because the owner, who’s Christian, told me who’s Muslim, not to ride the bike on Sunday. I was initially not happy with her decision and now, I look forward to resting on Sunday. 

    The work is not easy at all, but at least you make something however small. I remember 10 years ago where bike men could make as much as ₦5,000 – ₦6,000 in a day. That time tickets were still ₦200 and a lot of Northern people hadn’t migrated to Lagos. At the end of each working day, after removing every other person’s money, bike riders were guaranteed at least ₦2,500 profit. This used to be money then. 

    My only saving grace money-wise is the contribution I make with my brothers. Every day, 10 of us contribute ₦1,000 into a pot, and at the end of five days someone takes the bulk money. On and on we go until we go round and then go again. It’s part of this money that I send to my people at home to use to hold body small. 

    After leaving my home in search of greener pastures, I refuse to believe that this is it. I’m just 31 or 32 years old, but why do I feel so hopeless? 

    I don’t know how but I must find the strength and hope to see Friday and Saturday through. The job is not the greatest, but at least it’s an honest way to earn a living. 

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , ,
  • One Bumpy Semester Made Him Drop Out Of School, Now He’s A Cattle Seller — 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.

    The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” has been unlucky. One bad decision in conjunction with a faulty educational system took him from studying a professional degree to selling cattle. Now, he’s trusting God and waiting for his big break. 

    MONDAY:

    I’m awake before my alarm rings. I unlock my phone to check the time and it reads 3:25 a.m. — this means I’m up early by five minutes. Every day, for the past six weeks, I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night for tahajjud prayers. 

    I roll out of bed, perform ablution and drop on my praying mat. It’s a little bit past 4 a.m. when I’m done praying so I go back to sleep. The next time I open my eyes, it’s 5:30 a.m. and I’m just in time for morning prayers. Although standing up requires a little effort, I manage it.  From this point, my day starts in full swing. 

    I say my prayer, have a bath, wash plates from the night before and cook breakfast. By 7:00 a.m., I’m out of my house and on a bike to the market where I sell livestock for a living. The first thing I do when I get to the market is survey prospective animals for sale. Because I do not [yet] own any cattle; I start my day by convincing people to let me handle the sale of theirs. After negotiations, we usually settle on a cost price, after which I’m free to add my own markup. Sometimes, if a cow costs ₦250,000, I can sell it for ₦255,000 or ₦260,000. The final price depends on the bargaining power of the customer. For expert customers, I usually end up selling at the cost price so the owner doesn’t make a loss. In scenarios like this, my commission ranges between ₦1,000 – ₦2,000. At all at all na him bad pass. 

    Mondays are typically slow. All the parties have happened over the weekend and there aren’t any more till the next weekend. So, after surveying prospective animals, I spend my Mondays feeding and cleaning them up to look healthy for sale during the week.  I also stock up on support items like ropes, feed, etc so I can at least have something to sell and show for my efforts at the close of the day. 

    My plan for today is simple: make at least ₦1,000 to cover food and transportation back home. 

    TUESDAY:

    Cows are very wicked. And that’s why I always carry my cane anytime I’m feeding or cleaning them. For any cow that is proving stubborn, I use my bulala to reset its head. Yet,  these animals can be sneaky. One time when I wasn’t looking, a cow hit me on my chest with its horn. The blow packed enough force to make me sore for a few days but not enough force to make me bleed. After that incident, I became extra careful around the animals. 

    Truthfully, not all cows are wicked. Some are gentle, easy-going and even allow you to touch them. Currently, I have one cow that fits that bill. Although it has been paid for, I’ve been taking care of it for a month. It’s such an easy-going animal that I sometimes wish it were mine. 

    But it’s not and I’m just a caretaker. I can’t wait until I start going to the North to buy my own cattle. Until then, I’m going to be spending my days, like today, cleaning, feeding and caring for the animals. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    Sometimes when I compare how much I make on average versus my expenses, I ask myself what I’m doing here. My average daily commission falls somewhere around ₦1,000 – ₦2,000. Bike to and from my house costs ₦400. Food that can sustain me for the kind of work I do costs me around the same: bread and beans costs ₦300 while fufu or eba costs ₦400. Whatever is left goes into my kolo for the rainy days. Sometimes, in a week, all I make is transport money with nothing to save. 

    For me, this reality is twice as painful because I used to be in the university until I dropped out in my final year. Most times, I find myself thinking that with my level of exposure I should be in a better place. But Allah knows best. 

    This afternoon, after some older men sent me to buy recharge cards and Amala, I found myself thinking about my life.  

    It started with a carryover in 200 level, although the repercussions only surfaced in my final year. In my department, one of the requirements to be eligible for final professional exams was having zero carryovers. However, because of a mixture of my negligence and horrible record keeping, I wasn’t aware that I had failed a course. At least, not until when I was prevented from registering for final year. I was asked to retake the course I had failed and that meant an automatic extra year. 

    Then I made a bad decision. 

    Because I was very active in school, and because of the shame and stigma I associated with having an extra year, I dropped out. 

    I got a job at a restaurant, continued to lie at home, and allowed one year to pass me by. By the time my parents found out what had happened, the school had removed me from their system. I begged, wrote letters, and even lobbied, but I was told I couldn’t be reabsorbed into the system. Even though I was on a good academic standing, I was kicked out for not deferring the admission and just ghosting. While I take full responsibility for my actions, I wish I had someone to tell me that a carryover wasn’t the end of the world. 

    Because I did not and I lived with the stigma of failure alone, I made the wrong decision. Now, all I’m left with is menial jobs and no professional degree. 

    I’ve accepted my fate and the part I played in making it so. But on days like this, my regrets are fresh again. My only consolation is that I believe that not everyone is destined to work a white-collar job. Perhaps this is my destiny and I should bear it with more humility. Whenever I wake up to pray at night, the one thing I ask God is that the things I’ve lost should not be greater than what I’m going to achieve in the future. 

    THURSDAY:

    I try as much as possible to fast on Thursday to cut down the cost of feeding. Additionally, I also use the day to reflect and be grateful for my life so far. Although I’ve lost a lot, there’s still a lot to be grateful for. 

    Today, I’m especially grateful for a good support system; my parents and siblings, and friends who have encouraged me. I haven’t been the best person or been in the best of places but they’ve been rock solid. 

    Sometimes, when I complain of the fact that I’m almost thirty with nothing to show for it, they encourage me to go further. Also, when necessary, they do not hesitate to tell me difficult truths. 

    For the first time in a long time, I’m starting to feel like my old self and starting to pick myself up. The first sign is that I’m feeling restless again. More than ever, I’m constantly thinking of ways to save up money to buy livestock from the North. Even if I buy just one cattle or sheep, I’ll know that it is mine. With the income I earn, I don’t know how I’ll do it but I’ll make it work one way or another. 

    It has to work because my plan of going back to school depends on it. I can not, in good conscience, ask my parents to fund my education again, especially after what happened the last time. My dad is a retiree and my mum has my four siblings to take care of. I have to sort myself out even though I don’t yet know how. 

    On some level, I understand that this is a trial, so I’m constantly praying to Allah for forgiveness and the strength to see this through. I also understand that it’s not the trial that matters but your attitude while undergoing said trial. 

    I don’t have the answers but I know that my life story will not be defined by my mistakes. Even if I don’t know how I’m going to achieve any of my dreams, I’m going to try. I want my life story to be a testament to the fact that you can be at your lowest point and still pull yourself out. I believe that there’s no limit to what you can achieve as a human being. 

    I may not have all the answers but I have God. And his presence alone is sufficient for me.

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , ,
  • ₦3500 Is The Most Money You Can Make In A Day — A Week In The Life Of A Bricklayer

    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 today’s “A Week In The Life” is a bricklayer. He tells us about the poor wages that come with the job, battling omo oniles at building sites and how he plans to become an engineer.

    MONDAY:

    I don’t like staying at home on Monday. Whether I have a job or not, I must leave my house to do something. Based on the nature of my job, work is not always constant. Sometimes we have work and sometimes we’re jobless and just looking at God. It’s not every day people need bricklayers.

    When I leave my house by 9 a.m. today, the first place I go to is called “Center” — a bubbly place in Ilorin where clients come to request the services of bricklayers. Here, customers come and tell us about their job, we agree on a price, number of people and duration of work. Win-win for everybody.

    However, the first thing I notice when I enter Center is that everywhere is dull. No clients, no nothing. Everywhere just calm like say fight just finish. My body is not feeling the place, so I leave for my friend’s office nearby.

    Unfortunately, my friend isn’t around, so I have to go back home. On the way home, I can’t help but think about how this job is changing. Bricklayers used to have plenty of jobs, but now there are too many people doing this work. And they are cheap too because of desperation. 

    I get angry when people say we make a lot of money because we get paid daily. How much are they paying us? ₦3,000 or ₦3,500 pata pata. Then someone will now open their mouth and be calculating for me. They’ll say ₦3,500 x 30 days is big money. Do I work every day? Do they work from Monday to Sunday? Let’s even say I want to every day; is there job? 

    These are the issues and part of why I don’t like people who don’t mind their business. Anyhow, that’s their own problem. My current headache now is whether there’ll be light at home. At least if I’m not working today I can relax at home and watch TV or play games. Tomorrow is there for us to try again.

    TUESDAY:

    I’ve been doing bricklaying work since I was 12 or 13. Before secondary school. Immediately after graduating from primary school. 

    How did I get into it? Typical story. My dad, the breadwinner of a large family, lost his job as a transporter. 8 kids, large house, plenty of bills. Me, the second-born, the only male child, and subsequent new breadwinner.

    Options for work when you’re 12/13? —  labourer work. 

    The first month was carrying blocks up and down. Next, I progressed to mixing concrete. This led to double promotion and becoming a bricklayer’s assistant. I continued doing this work even while in secondary school. Small school work, small bricklayer work. All na learning. 

    As far back as I remember, I always wished to be educated. A teacher offered to sponsor my education but my father refused. His reason? He can’t allow his son who happens to be his second child to live with someone he doesn’t know. That’s how my chance for free school went, and I had to be hustling up and down for my education. 

    At the work site, I met some guys who encouraged me to think big and work hard. I took their advice, saved some money and entered Kwara Poly after secondary school. 

    That’s where I entered wahala part two. I thought I could handle the expenses, but billings everywhere. Lecturer says we should buy handout, money. Lecturer says we should photocopy textbook, more money. 

    After I finished ND1 [first year in a polytechnic] like this, I ran out of money. No way to do ND2 [second year] and that’s how I entered gambling to try to make money.

    I’ll not go into details, but that experience taught me that there’s a difference between suffering and hardness. When you’re suffering, people can pity you and assist because it’s not your fault. But you see hardness? Nobody will help you because they can see that you’re your own problem. 

    Anyhow, I stopped gambling, returned to bricklaying work and eventually raised the money. I even ended up doing civil engineering for my HND programme. 

    After that programme, I now faced wahala part 3. No job. 

    The company I did my NYSC with was offering me ₦30,000 a month for full-time employment. I did the maths of my earnings as a bricklayer and realised I was better off there. That’s how I switched back to this work.

    Why am I saying all of this? It’s because I woke up feeling very grateful today. Things may not be going the way I want, but thank God we don’t look like where we’re coming from. And for that alone, today feels like it’s going to be a good day.  

    WEDNESDAY:

    I’ve been working under the hot sun all day. All my body is screaming for water and my shirt is soaked with sweat. But that’s not even the worst part. The person we’re working for just announced that he can’t pay the full amount we negotiated — ₦3,000/day — because something something money didn’t come through.

    Me I’m asking myself how that one concerns me. And why is he just telling us after we’ve been working since morning under the heat? As per say him be oga, I said let me try to reason with him, but he’s not listening to anybody. He’s showing power because he knows that we can’t abandon the work after coming this far.

    This is the part of the job that I don’t like. Because we don’t have a written contract, someone can just change their mind after you’ve started work. And there’s nobody to fight for us. 

    Just last week, Agberos came to the house we were working on and asked for money. 

    I asked them, “Money for what? In Kwara state?” Before I could say anything, I heard “gboa.” That gboa was a slap. 

    Next thing, me and my boys carried shovel to fight them. The next thing police have arrested everyone. Godfather came to bail agbero. The house owner told us that he was coming to bail us, and after keeping us waiting for hours, he came and started shouting at us. 

    Nobody to defend us, and now we can’t even defend ourselves. 

    Anyhow sha, after plenty of back and forth plus shouting, oga finally agreed to pay ₦2500 instead of ₦3000. It’s still out of this money that I’ll buy strong paracetamol for all the stress. 

    THURSDAY:

    I’m not in a hurry to go to work today. After the drama of yesterday, I take my time to prepare. I listen to the radio, I browse through my phone and call my friends. 

    If not for the economy of Nigeria, why will I, a graduate, be working a job where the highest you can make in a day is  ₦3500? Okay, maybe ₦4,000 if you do certain jobs. But I can bet that you will spend half of that money buying pain relief drugs. 

    So what’s now the point? 

    I recently started taking some certifications because my goal in future is to become an engineer. I’m constantly praying and working towards this goal. I just need time for things to align for me.

    But before then, I need to leave this house so that I can hustle my daily ₦2k. 

    FRIDAY:

    I don’t work on Fridays because it’s Jumat and I have to go to the mosque. I can’t do any work that won’t let me serve my God. 

    My plan today: sleep, eat, pray and hang out with my friends. 

    Thank God it is Friday.

    Editor’s note: Bricklayers can make more than ₦3,500 a day if they get contract jobs. However, those jobs are rare.

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , ,
  • A Week In The Life: 8 Must-Read Stories Of 2021

    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.

    I don’t know about you but it has been a long year. A lot has happened that it feels like we’re starting to forget a few things. With that in mind, I decided to refresh our memories on some episodes of “A Week In The Life” that I have enjoyed writing.

    Whether you started reading in January or just last week, here are some stories that deserve to be read twice.

    1) A Week In The Life: The Interstate Driver With Girlfriends In Many States

    “To be honest, I’m even changing. I’m not bad like that. If I count my girlfriends, I have only five consistent ones. I’ve removed the inconsistent ones from my list because no time. I’m also thankful that God take libido bless me to be able to keep everyone satisfied. It’s grace. I be pure Igbo guy, I strong die.“

    This long-distance driver has gone from having a girlfriend in almost every state in the country to having “just” 5. Why does he do it? What’s his motivation? and is he not scared of the risks involved?

    Click here to find out.

    2) When I’m In Front Of A Camera, I Feel Like Wizkid Or Davido — A Week In The Life Of A Pornstar

    Forget everything you know because this story will challenge it. After failing to get into Nollywood, Juliet, the subject of this story decided to go into acting porn. She talks about the stigma involved in her job, not being ashamed to show her face in her videos and how powerful she feels in front of a camera.

    According to Juliet, “During video shoots, I tell my men that it’s acting we’re acting so they shouldn’t get carried away thinking it’s their girlfriend they’re fucking. I also make it clear that they must not cum in me —  they can cum on my laps, face, tummy but not inside me.”

    Read more here.

    3) A Week In The Life Of An Unpaid Full-Time House Wife

    What’s it like being an unpaid full housewife? It’s a lot of thankless hard work, unnecessary suffering and acceptance in the grand scheme of things.

    The heaviness in this story still haunts me today. See why here.

    4) “Everyone Shouts At You” — An Exhausting Week In The Life Of A Medical House Officer

    Doctors are leaving Nigeria for many reasons ranging from poor pay to terrible work conditions. What’s it like being a junior doctor in a toxic work environment? It’s a lot of shouting and being treated like you don’t matter or exist. It’s also a lot of crying and making up your mind to leave Nigeria as soon as you can.

    Don’t take my word for it, instead listen to a junior doctor narrate their story here.

    5) A Miraculous Week In The Life Of A Nigerian Olympian

    If you watched the recently concluded Tokyo Olympics, the name Enoch Adegoke must ring a bell. If it does, it’s because, for the first time in over 20 years, Enoch took Nigeria to the 100m men’s final.

    What does it take to be a pro athlete in Nigeria? Are Nigerian athletes rich? Satisfy your curiosity here.

    6) I Don’t Have Any Human Friend —A Week In The Life Of A Zookeeper

    As a zookeeper, you spend more time with animals than with humans. What happens when your job becomes your life? Well, if you’re like Mr Emeka, the subject of this story, it means you have no human friends.

    How must that feel? Start here to experience what it feels like.

    7) I Earn Dollars But I Still Feel Unsafe — A Week In The Life Of A Freelancer

    The Naira is tanking and everyone is screaming “earn dollars or save in dollars.”

    Alright, you listen to them and do both. However, you still feel unsafe because deep down you know that if anything happens to you, dollars can’t save you.

    This is an anxiety-filled “A Week In The Life.”

    8) Manager By Day, Sugar Baby At Night: A Week In The Life

    The subject of this story has gone from swearing not to sleep with married men to not refusing their advances.

    The result? A lot of gifts and houses. Why did she suddenly change her mind and go down the sugar baby route?

    Click here to read her origin story.

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , ,
  • A Week In The Life Of An Orisa Priestess Trying To Guide People To Their Destiny

    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 today’s “A Week In The Life” is Omitonade Ifawemimo, an orisa priestess. Orisa priests/priestesses serve the function of spiritually guiding and counselling people so they can fulfil their destiny. She tells us about ways people stray from their destiny, how it can be modified, and what Yoruba indigenous religion means to her.

    MONDAY:

    I’m up before my alarm clock this morning. The light in my room is blinding and it takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust. I stagger, carefully, to the toilet. After I’m done, I begin my morning routine. 

    I start each day by praying to my ori [spiritual head], to olodumare, to my egun [ancestors], to my orisa and to my egbe [astral mates]. I lie on my bed as I supplicate to them and it takes about 30 minutes to complete. 

    After I’m done with my prayers, I prepare my kids for school. I bathe, dress and cook for them. By 7 a.m. or a few minutes past 7, we’re out of the house to meet up with 8 a.m. resumption time. On the drive to school, I engage them in conversation and try to make them laugh. One minute we’re laughing, the next, we’re in front of their school gate. 

    I hand the kids over to their school teacher and my day starts. 

    As a full-time orisa priestess, I have an office I resume to by 10 a.m. every day. My role involves saving and guiding people. Orisa priests/priestesses are not seers — that is, we don’t see the future for people. Instead, through ifa/orisa divinations, we reveal a person’s past, present and future. 

    Practitioners of orisa spirituality believe that on our journey to earth, we made use of our ori to choose our blessings [wealth, long life, accomplishment, prosperity, etc]. However, on getting to earth, we forget all we’ve chosen and do things that are taboo to our ori, which hinders our progress. The job of a priest or priestess is to use divination to guide people on the right path of their destiny. Divination reveals strengths and weaknesses and allows for a smooth journey on earth.

    Every day from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., people come to my office to see what their ori is saying about their day, week or month. Today is no exception. There are people in the lounge waiting to see me when I get to the office. After exchanging brief greetings with a couple of them, I enter my office to settle down —  then my workday truly begins.

    TUESDAY:

    In Yoruba spirituality, there are three ways we can modify human destiny. The first is through ifa/orisa divination[16 cowries]: people come to us, we divine for them and ifa/orisa reveals the problem along with a solution to us. 

    Image source: Omitonade Ifawemimo

    The second method is through sacrifice, appeasement and propitiation. After the problem has been revealed, we do certain sacrifices to solve it. The sacrifices are everyday items like fruits, food, domestic animals, etc. Anything that can be seen with the eye can be used in making this propitiation. This sacrifice is used in order to solve the person’s problem.

    Lastly, we have ifa/orisa initiation. We, orisa worshippers, have a saying: there’s nobody with a bad destiny or head, but the only hindrance is that people aren’t aware of their taboos.  They are not aware of the behaviours their ori doesn’t want, and these become stumbling blocks in the pursuit of their goals. 

    To be initiated means to get to know a person’s destiny. To know their strengths, weakness and align with their ori. This is important because we believe that everyone is born with an orisa. You can also use this knowledge in spiritual fortification because you know everything about them. All of this is used to help people become accomplished and fulfilled on earth. 

    Today, I spend a few hours at work explaining some of the functions of a priestess to curious people. 

    I also explain that in the olden days, when children were born, their parents would invite a priest/priestess to divine the child’s destiny. This would help in knowing the child’s taboo’s, strengths, weaknesses. However, a lot of people no longer have this privilege. For people who didn’t have this luxury, they can do initiation to know their destiny. 

    I also say that while priests/priestesses can divine and modify spiritual problems, we can’t interfere with physical problems. So, if someone has character problems like anger or laziness, we advise them to work on themselves and not look for spiritual solutions. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    After dropping the kids in school today, I decide to visit my friends. On the car ride, I think about how most people believe that people who practice traditional religion are uneducated or wretched, which is false. I try to change people’s perception of this and my behaviour speaks for me. Like a good traditional practitioner, I don’t preach our religion or spirituality. There’s no point telling people, especially Nigerians, Yorubas, to come back to Yoruba indigenous religion. Everyone will return to it at the end of the day because it is their roots. 

    My job is to educate people who are curious and guide those who are interested. Any original practitioner [there are imposters in the religion] is tolerant of other people’s beliefs and opinions. 

    In fact, we don’t say because people practice other religions we won’t help them. And even after helping them, we don’t force anyone to convert to our belief. Our own is for you to see the solution to what’s bothering you.  

     
    THURSDAY:

    No work for me today. Why? Because body no be firewood. I’m going to spend my day resting and enjoying some peace and quiet. I’ve dropped the kids at school. I’ve cooked rice, fried plantain and boiled stew. I also have a cold Pepsi in the fridge to step it down with. The best part? I have the house all to myself, at least, until 4 p.m. when I go to pick the kids from school. Until then, I’m going to enjoy my alone time to the fullest.  


    FRIDAY:

    Today, someone asked me about the hardest part of my job. I told him two things: firstly, it’s not a job, it’s a calling — it’s passion. Secondly, there’s no hard part. Some aspects are just easier than the others. 

    My role involves finding lost souls and guiding them back to their roots to learn about themselves. I’m happy social media is helping with more awareness. People are reading stuff that’s making them curious and ask questions. I’ve also been using my platform to enlighten pẹople about traditional religion.

    I’ve also used my platform to correct misconceptions that we worship idols. We don’t. Olodumare proves its existence through nature by giving us water, plant, wind, thunder and lighting, sunlight. And orisas are in charge of these things. Sango is in charge of thunder and lighting. Osun, Yemoja, Olokun, Olosa are in charge of water. Ogun is in charge of iron and technology. In respect of these orisas and the work they do, we have icons and not idols. 

    Image source: Omitonade Ifawemimo

    These things people call idols are used to beautify the shrine and not what is being called upon. Think about it as art to beautify your home. Can we call artwork idol worshipping? This is what I try to educate and enlighten people about on social media. I’m thankful to Olodumare because it’s not by my power. It’s just what works for me. 

    It is passion and bose ma je niyen [that’s how it will be].

    [Editor’s note: some part of this post has been updated. We initially wrote that destiny couldn’t be stolen via sexual intercourse but the subject says it’s rare, but not impossible.]

    You should read this next. Why? An Ifa priest tells us what it’s like being the youngest chief priest and the stigmatization of traditional religions in Nigeria.

    People Are Afraid Of What They Don’t Understand — Man Like Osunniyi

    People Are Afraid Of What They Don't Understand — Man Like Osunniyi | Zikoko !

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , , , , ,
  • A Week In The Life: Medical Student By Day, Executive Assistant At Night

    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.

    Today’s subject is a 22-year old combining two tedious roles as a medical student and an executive assistant.  She talks about the requirements of each role, her supportive boss and how she tweaks her schedule to accommodate everything. 

    MONDAY:

    I wake up at 6:30 a.m. every day, but that doesn’t happen today. After sleeping through four alarms, my roommate has to step in where the machines have failed. She taps the bed gently while calling out my name. I reluctantly open my eyes and take in our small room. There’s a ceiling fan rotating idly over my head, the metal on the double bunk beds have gotten a fresh coat of paint, and the rug has seen better times. “I’m up,” I say to her. 

    The first thing I do is to try to hustle bathroom space. As a student in a public university, the greatest struggle is having a germ-free bath. And that’s why wide-eyed, early in the day, I run to beat the soon-to-be-great-bathroom-rush of the girl’s hostel. 

    Thankfully, I come back to my room cleaner than I left. Then my day truly starts.

    As a medical student, my day takes different turns. Sometimes, I have classes in the morning. At other times, it’s reviewing patients and presenting the findings to a consultant. Or, attending clinics and watching senior doctors in action to gain hands-on experience. Depending on the posting I’m in, it can be a combination of all three. This morning, I have online classes. At 8 a.m. I open my laptop and sign in for lectures. 

    It takes all my willpower to stay awake during the lectures, and I’m super grateful when my last class ends by 3 p.m. I close my laptop and contemplate what to eat for lunch. Midway through my thinking, I decide that sleep is better than food. I put on a funny show on Netflix, draw my curtains, settle under my duvet and wait for sleep to come. 


    TUESDAY:

    I feel like I have two identities. The first is a medical student which encompasses all I do — school, writing, research and making my parents proud. Then my other [paid] job as an executive assistant [E.A] where I plan, schedule and organise. They’re both demanding, and I don’t know how I combine them seeing as I have only 24 hours in a day. 

    Being a student is the “easy” part because there’s a fixed schedule. But the second job? I’m always twisting and tweaking my calendar: work after classes, work during classes, work on weekends, work before classes. I like to say I go from work [school] to work-work [E.A]. 

    Because I slept in yesterday, I’m starting my E.A job before school today. My boss, an entrepreneur, is trying to get into a new field, so I’m researching it. I know I can’t finish before lectures start, and I plan to take notes, listen in class while continuing my research. Once I’m done, I’ll schedule a few meetings and create content for social media. Then I’ll be free to focus on my lectures for the day. 

    On some level, I keep wondering how long I can sustain my second identity. The only reason I’ve been able to combine work and school is that the school hasn’t resumed clinical classes — ward rounds. Once that starts,  I won’t get back until 12 a.m. or 1 a.m., and I’ll be too exhausted to do work-work. As much as I enjoy work and the financial independence it brings, medicine is still my first love. I’m still unsure if I want to write briefs and concept notes as a full-time career. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    I like work-work for a couple of reasons. Firstly, my boss is a great human being. Even though she’s almost three times my age, she respects me. She listens to my opinions, asks for my input and she’s never bossy. It also feels good to be trusted with high-level stuff despite my age. Maybe because I’m Nigerian, being treated with respect by an older person is a big deal to me. After my experience with other types of employers, my boss is an angel. 

    The learning curve is another reason I like this job. I’m constantly reading interesting things. In one year, I’ve learned enough to talk about types of VC funding, angel investing and how to support entrepreneurs. It’s mind-blowing how much I now understand that entrepreneurship is the lifeline of a lot of countries. But, I’m still a 9-5 babe, thank you very much. 

    The real icing on the cake is that the relationship with my boss has progressed to mentorship. I’m constantly learning from her and sounding ideas off her. And she has been very gracious with her time and support. 

    Today, on a work call to check in on progress, she kept asking about my welfare and school. We ended up talking about me and the importance of school above everything else. It felt good to be treated like a human being by an older adult.

    THURSDAY:

    The best part about having a job as a student is financial independence. My E.A job pays me well enough to not ask my parents for money. I don’t remember the last time I collected money from them. Even though they know my salary, they still insist on sending me money. 

    I appreciate my parent’s love and support, but I don’t want to be a burden on them. They’ve never said I’m a burden, so it’s weird that I feel that way. On some level, I think it’s because I know the sacrifices they made to see me through an expensive secondary school. Now, I just want them to spend on themselves and plan for their retirement. Ever since Nigeria hit that 2016 recession, I’m no longer sure they have a retirement fund. Things have gotten so hard that I wonder how my parents have managed to keep me afloat. Earning an income means they can focus on themselves for once in their lives. But they still feel I’m their responsibility. I guess being a parent is to be forever responsible for your kids no matter how old they turn. 

    I’ll just have to get used to it. Just the same way I’ve gotten used to my dad sending me money randomly, like today, no matter how much I refuse. I plan to call to thank him. 

    FRIDAY:

    I have been winging school so far. I find time to read when I can because I don’t schedule studying. Mostly, I study close to an exam or test. If I have an assessment on Friday, I’ll start reading on Wednesday. Other times, I’ll join study groups for revisions or just listen in class. 

    Don’t miss out on the best money stories. Subscribe to the newsletter now.

    I know that as I approach my final year, things are going to get difficult. But I’m going to try my best to hold out for as long as I can. If push comes to shove, medicine is the most important thing to me, and my boss supports this. Thankfully, the skills from this job are transferable to any field, including medicine. I know that no matter how things turn out, this is an experience I’ll always cherish. 

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , , , ,
  • “Gbese Drove Me To This Job” — A Week In The Life Of A Female Cab Driver

    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.

    A lot of things stand out about the subject of today’s  “A Week In The Life.” She’s a mother of three kids, she’s the only female driver in a male-dominated park and she has insane grit. Our subject tells us why she shows up at work, how her job aids her evangelism and her plans for living a soft life. 

    MONDAY:

    “I’m late.” That’s the first thing on my mind when I wake up at 5:00 a.m. today. Ideally, my day starts at 4:00 a.m., and I’m out by 5:15 a.m. I do this because I have to queue up at the park to pick up the early morning passengers.  

    The first passengers don’t arrive at the park until around 6:00 a.m., but everyone starts to line up from past 5. In this business, starting your day early is the only way things can add up. As the day progresses, so many money-consuming factors come into play. Things like car wahala, agbero, road safety people, Lagos hold up, etc. But in the morning, the day is still pregnant with possibilities.Starting early = more trips = more money. 

    I drive an old silver Sienna with peeling paint, a busted steering wheel and an engine that coughs like a sick patient. Whenever I’m loading from the park, my route is Kilo to Ojuelegba. But when I’m on charter, I drive from Ojuelegba to anywhere in Lagos: Badagry, Epe, Lekki, there’s nowhere I can’t go as long as it’s within Lagos. 

    I can’t afford to be choosy because I have gbese, and this driving is what’s helping me. After taking a ₦1M loan to buy this car, I have daily targets. If not, wahala. But still on still, gbese everywhere. 

    Here’s a backstory: I was running a business that needed cash flow, so I kept on borrowing money. However, it was never enough, and I ended up owing plenty people. To raise money, I took a loan from a microfinance bank and bought a car. The car, old Sienna, is what I will use to pay off my debts and expand my business. Now I owe both microfinance bank and individuals, but God is in control. 

    Back to the present: After panicking about waking up late, I get myself in order and think of ways to save my day. I decide that since my house is close to the bus stop, I’ll go park in the queue. Then I’ll rush home to have my bath and get ready.  After, I’ll run back before the first passengers start coming out. 

    It seems that today might not end up being so bad after all. 

    TUESDAY: 

    I’m thinking about my children today. I have three kids. A 17-year-old boy and two girls who are 11 and 9. Then I also have my teenage niece who lives with us. Because I have to leave home early, the house chores fall on them. My niece and 11-year-old daughter are in charge of cooking. My son sweeps. My 9-year-old washes plates.

    My job is to inspect when they’re done. During the day, I go back home 4-5 times to eat or oversee whatever tasks they’ve done. I know the work is not easy, but they have to bear with us. I’m struggling. Their dad, my husband, is also struggling. 

    When I started dating my husband, I thought he needed someone to help him gather himself and plan for the future. At that point, he had just returned from Russia because his cousin had messed him up. I was like, this is just a rough patch. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as I thought. Now that I’ve entered into marriage, there’s nothing I can do. I need to play my part in order not to mess up. 

    I hope my kids understand that it’s from the little we have that we’re providing for them. I hope they appreciate the sacrifices. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    It’s barely 11:00 a.m, and my phone hasn’t stopped ringing. It’s the same number calling me. Some journalist/writer-type person has been trying to interview me for five weeks, but I’ve been busy. 

    Today, I’m on the queue waiting for my turn to load, so I have time. I pick the call and tell him to meet me at Ojuelegba. After 30 minutes, he arrives and we exchange greetings. I invite him inside the car to sit, and we make small talk before the interview starts. 

    Interviewer: Tell me about your job.

    Me: I’m a driver, and I load passengers from Kilo to Ojuelegba or I do private charter. 

    I: What’s the hardest part of your job?

    Me: It’s not easy working in a male-dominated field. My only saving grace is that I grew up amongst boys; I have an older brother and a twin brother. So I grew up building muscle from fighting men. Not having female friends meant I spent all my time with my brothers and their friends. 

    My [twin] brother always tried to chase me away, but I no dey gree. And even though he’s huge and muscular, I’d still fight him. In fact, I used to fight him until I got married. Gra gra life has been in my blood, but those days are gone — I thank God for God in my life now. 

    I: Thank God.

    Me: So when I came into the park, the men here were trying to cheat me. But I showed them that I have their type at home, so they left me. Now we argue together, agree and disagree together. Sometimes when they want to cheat me on the queue, I’ll either let it go or claim my right. I might be a woman, but I have the mind of a man. Without that mentality, you can’t go far in this job. 

    I: Ah, I see. 

    Me: There are other challenges too. Every work has challenges, and there’s not one that’s easy. In this job, people will talk to you arrogantly. Others will ask why I didn’t give a man the car to drive for me. I’ve heard someone say I have ojukokoro for choosing to drive myself. On the other end, some people encourage me and say, “Madam, keep it up.”

    At the end of the day, I can’t complain because nobody forced me. I’m the only one that knows what carried me here. 

    THURSDAY:

    I’m grateful for this business because it gives me time for evangelism. Unlike door to door preaching, preaching in a car is “easier” for me. I start my sermons early in the morning and end them at about 10, 11 a.m. I like preaching in the car as I’m driving because people pay attention, especially when it’s still very early. At that time they’re not yet distracted by the requirements of living. 

    However, I’m not preaching today. Thursday is my work-free day. I spend the whole day in prayers asking God for grace in my life. Today’s prayer is special because I need a miracle. My car is faulty again, and I’m tired of repairing it. Last time, it cost me ₦300,000 to fix because I had a steering and alignment problem. I took a loan and added to my gbese. 

    My cup does not runneth over. 

    My prayer is simple: God, I need the bigger Sienna in my life because that car will solve most of my wahala. I know you will do it, and I just need to exercise patience. After all, Jeremiah 33:3 says, “Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.”

    FRIDAY:

    My people have a saying: a hungry man that sees pot and food on fire has hope that he/she will eat. This saying is part of what keeps me going. Even though Nigeria is hard, I know God has already done my breakthrough for me. That’s why I’m happy and grateful today. God has allowed me to be driving for six months now. He has also come through every time I could not meet my loan repayment. 

    My only prayer now is that God should not allow me to be so sick that I can’t work. I need good health to be able to repay my debts. I declare that I’ll not break down. I also declare that once I pay the over ₦700,000 debt I owe, I’ll be free. 

    I find comfort in Psalm 118 — I will not die but live and will proclaim what the LORD has done. The LORD has chastened me severely, but he has not given me over to death. Open for me the gates of righteousness; I will enter and give thanks to the LORD. This is the gate of the LORD through which the righteous may enter.

    God is with me, so I will not fail. Once my joy comes I know life will be easy. I’ll no longer worry about waking up at 4 or 5 a.m. I’ll finally be able to wake up at 6 or 7 a.m. like a normal person. 

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , , ,
  • “The Dollar Rate Is The Bane Of My Existence” — A Week In The Life Of A Shipping Agent

    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 today’s “A Week In The Life” is a shipping agent. Shipping agents help people buy goods from sites like Amazon and eBay. They can bypass the dollar limit on cards and the heavy custom duties. Our subject talks to us about how the pandemic, exchange rate and Nigeria affects his business.

    MONDAY:

    I didn’t sleep until 3 a.m. last night because I was browsing the internet for things I could import to sell. I haven’t found anything, yet, but it’s a matter of time before something comes up.

    I hate waking up early, and that’s why I’m up at 10 a.m. today. 

    My primary source of income comes from buying and shipping goods into Nigeria. The job is flexible enough that I get to control my time, so I can afford to do market research and proper product vetting. 

    I’m also a general hustler — I design, print, advertise and conduct market research. As the spirit leads. 

    I’m also enrolled in a finance course to understand what it takes to properly run a business. A typical day for me involves either waking up to fulfil shipping orders or waking up to go for lectures. The only reason I can afford to wake up late is that I’m only fulfilling orders today. And because I’m doing it from home, there’s not a lot of pressure. 

    Apart from the flexibility, the best part of the job is helping people solve their problems. And the resulting credit alerts after I’m done. 

    TUESDAY:

    Because of the $100 limit on Nigerian cards and exorbitant custom fees, people always need my expertise. I ship goods in from China, UK and the US. All I require from my customer is a link to their desired item. Then I handle the rest. 

    I also bring in custom products for sale. One aspect I’m really into is called private labelling. Companies have a ready-made product in this model and they don’t mind slapping anyone’s label on it. As long as you can pay, these companies are game. 

    My most successful privately labelled product is the anti-glare glasses. While looking through my sales history today, I noticed I had gone from selling 10 units in a day to selling 100 units in two weeks. I’m making a profit of about ₦1,000 per unit, and that’s not bad at all. 

    I’m constantly looking for the next hot thing to import and sell. This involves me begging certain questions like, what are people searching for? And then using Google trends to collect that data. 

    It was through trends I noticed the demand for antiglare glasses in Lagos. Through trends, I also observed that the North has a higher demand for sex toys than the South. What’s the moral of the story here? Always check the data before you touch any product. If not, it’ll end in proper tears. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    Two things are the bane of my existence in this business: scammers and the dollar exchange rate. I have no control over the price of the dollar, but I try my best to prevent scammers.   

    Because a lot of my clients are purchasing from third party websites, I always tell them to be careful. If the price looks too good to be true, then it’s probably a scam. 

    But not everyone listens.

    Some clients are adamant and insist I can’t tell them what to do. I try my very best with each customer to personally vet their orders. I click on their links and read reviews about the seller. If the seller has less than 10 reviews, I flag them and inform my customer. 

    Customers who like awoof will laugh at you. But some that trust my expertise will listen. I remember a customer who sent me a link for iPhone 11 Promax for $350. And the seller he wanted to use had zero reviews. After explaining why it was a scam to him, he cancelled the order. 

    But it doesn’t always end like this. Today, I went to pick up an order for a customer that I also advised against buying a product. He ordered for dirt cheap Airpods Pro, but on opening the box, I saw knock off China earphones. 

    Of course, I was sad because of the time and money spent, but there’s only so little I can do when people don’t listen to me. At the end of the day, it’s their money, and customers are always right. 

    THURSDAY:

    My business is at the mercy of many things: pandemic, dollar price, shipping agents. 

    Before the pandemic, it used to take 5–7 days to ship orders from our warehouse abroad to Nigeria. Now, it takes 14–21 days. And this is minus Nigerian factors like strike, delays, clearance etc. 

    Then there are import rates. Since I started this business, I’ve never increased the amount I charge my customers. However, my price has gone up from ₦2,500/lb to ₦2800/lb. Why? The naira keeps sinking into the ground. And because import rates are fixed in dollars, I have to reflect in my prices.  

    The only saving grace is that my shipment is still more affordable than traditional bodies like DHL or FedEx. While these bodies handle the whole process from pickup to shipping to delivery, my method is different. 

    My customers send their goods to my foreign address/warehouse. Then I gather the goods in bulk using a cargo airline. When it gets to Nigeria, the airline drops the package with clearing agents under NAHCO. I lean on NAHCO/SACHO agents who give me their rates and help me to clear out my goods. No payments to customs, no handling charges. 

    When I receive my goods, a dispatch rider goes to disburse them. Alternatively, I also arrange pickup from my house. Because of the lean model and plenty waka, my clients enjoy competitive rates. 

    If the naira was a bit more stable my customers would enjoy even more competitive rates. But alas, here we are. 

    FRIDAY:

    I’m on the road as early as 8 a.m. today. I’m going for my ACCA lectures; classes start at 9 a.m. and end at 3 p.m.  

    After classes, I’m going to pick up new arrivals even though I’m already tired. This is the life I signed up for, so I’m not complaining too much. Just enough. 

    I have ambitious plans for this business. I want to upgrade the company from a business name to a limited liability company. I also want to get a proper office space so I can stop working from home and get staff.  

    Eventually, I want to bring in custom products in bulk — winning products selected by me. Then I plan to establish a network of distributors to move these products. 

    I’m working so hard so that I can be a successful businessman. I want to be the type that people call importer-exporter, pure water.

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    [donation]

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , , ,
  • I Don’t Have Any Human Friend —A Week In The Life Of A Zookeeper

    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 today’s “A Week In The Life” is Mr. Emeka, a Zookeeper. He talks to us about being friends with animals, some of the hazards that come with his job and his plans to open his own zoo.

    MONDAY:

    I arrive at work around 7:30 a.m. today. The first thing I do is sign in my name in the attendance register. Even though the workers union has told us to stop signing attendance, we still use a register in the zoo. This is to allow us to know the number of people at work at any given time, especially since we’re short-staffed.  At 15 minutes to 8 a.m., some of my colleagues begin to troop in, and we make small talk before the zoo officially opens at 8:00 a.m. 

    A few minutes later, our supervisor comes in, and we all rush to our duty posts. 

    The zoo is divided into different sections — primates, carnivores, reptiles, etc. — and I manage the carnivore section. However, I’m also helping a colleague out in the reptile section today. 

    One of the first tasks of my day is cleaning the cage of the softshell tortoise. This involves turning the tortoise upside down, taking it out of its water habitat and changing the water. But it doesn’t go as planned. Every time I try to turn the tortoise, it tries to bite me. And after remembering the PTSD from the last time it bit me, I don’t struggle too hard. I let it be. 

    The snakes are relatively easier to handle once I release chicks to entertain them. When they are done feeding, they’ll remain still and then I can come back to clean their cage. 

    After going round and ensuring that all is in order in the reptile section, I move on to the carnivore section. Here we have the lions, spotted hyena, civet cat, jackals. My other colleague has fed the animals and most of them are resting. The spotted hyena is running up and down so I move to its cage to play with it; I rub its nose and it tries to lick my hands with its tongue. I take special care to hold its neck so as to ensure that I’m not in danger of being bitten.

    As much as we take care of the animals, it’s also important that we take safety precautions because sometimes accidents happen on the job. Just last year, a baboon bit a colleague on his laps and yansh, and we had to rush him to the hospital. Another time, an ostrich bit another colleague who ended up fainting. Someone else’s fingers got bitten by a horse. These are all the happenings of a regular workday. 

    Despite all of these, I love the job. I equate it to a soldier’s job because it’s like facing war, and when you’re at war, no matter what you meet, you have to see it through. You don’t look back. 

    TUESDAY:

    I love animals. I really do. In fact, I don’t have any human friend that I can sit to gist with for 5 minutes. I prefer animals to human beings because not only are they more reliable, but you can also predict their behaviour. You know what to expect from an animal, but with human beings, you’re always guessing. In the past, I tamed a civet cat and was taking it around like a dog. I’ve also tamed a python that I was waking up and sleeping with in my house. I used to take that python everywhere with me too. It’s sad that I had to sell both the python and cat to a zoo in Lagos. 

    Zookeeper

    If you ask me to pick a favourite animal, I’ll say crocodile. I don’t have any reason why. I just like how easy going the crocodile is. 

    Zookeeper



    If you ask me what I’ve learnt from spending time with animals, I’ll tell you this: stop killing animals. The best way to prevent wild animals from harming you is to stop eating meat. Mostly because they can smell the meat from other animals on you. As a rule of thumb, my diet consists of only fish and snail. All these are part of the reasons why the animals don’t harm me. 

    Today is a good day because there are visitors who have come to see the animals. I’m excited because I get to show off my skills of “talking” to the animals and seeing the visitor’s faces widen when the animals respond. I can’t wait to show them my cool call and response trick with the lions. This is going to be so much fun. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    I’m not happy today. As much as I enjoy playing and caring for animals, I can’t help but think about how we’re risking our lives every day. We don’t have protective gear, we don’t have dart guns in case of animal escape and we don’t even have proper capturing equipment. My director is trying his best, and I can see his commitment to the zoo — he gave us borehole water for the first time in years — but he needs help. The zoo needs help both in form of donations for the upkeep of animals and even additional staff members. It’s just too much. I’ve been attacked by a spitting cobra before, and I couldn’t open my eyes for 9 months. After several hospital visits, I eventually turned to traditional medicine of a sacred leaf mixed with breast milk before I could finally open my eyes. 

    We’ve also had a situation where erosion washed off male and female crocodiles from the zoo into a nearby river, and we couldn’t retrieve them. A couple of years down the line, they reproduced and infested the whole river with their offsprings. 

    I know my director is trying and we can all see his commitment to the betterment of the zoo. I’m just praying every day that almighty Jesus will send a helper to him. A helper that will help us and also help the animals, then I can be happy again. 

    THURSDAY:

    During a tour at work, some visitors were curious about the cost of some of the animals. After a lot of pleading, I broke it down to them like this:

    Baby baboon is between ₦100,000 – ₦150,000. 

    Chimpanzee is between ₦400,000 – ₦1,000,000.

    Gorilla is up to millions of naira. Like ₦6M upwards. 

    Giraffe, depending on height, goes between  ₦1,000,000 – ₦6,000,000.

    A hippopotamus is between ₦600,000 — ₦3,000,000 depending on size.

    Small-sized python is between ₦50,000 – ₦60,000. Medium size python is between ₦100,000 – ₦200,000. Big ones go for as much as ₦600,000 -1,000,000.

    Lions start from ₦5M and above. 

    I laughed at their shock at the prices. It’s always a good day for me when people come around to see the animals, and I want to have this feeling forever. A lot of why I’m working hard is so that I can start my own mini-zoo back home in my village when I retire. 


    I have big goals, but I’m also learning to take things one step at a time and enjoy the process. Some days all I can do is focus on what’s directly in front of me. And as of now, at this moment, that’s Animal Planet, where I get to observe my favourite people in the world in their natural state. For this small joy, I’m super grateful. 

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    [donation]

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , , , , , ,
  • “My Job Involves a Lot of Firefighting” — A Week in the Life of an Executive Assistant

    “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 today’s “A Week in the Life” is an executive assistant at a startup. She tells us about how fast-paced her role gets, her coping mechanism and why she continues to show up every day.

    Image credit: GETTY

    MONDAY:

    My day starts at 7:00 a.m., but I’m usually awake from 6:30 a.m. It takes me thirty minutes every morning [between 6:30 a.m. and 7:00 a.m.] to beg my body and brain to get out of bed — why is it so difficult to get out of bed as an adult? 

    At 7:00 a.m., I start running around to prepare for work: I arrange a few clothes here, I do a petty chore there, and then I have my bath. No matter how many tasks I have to complete, I always leave the house by 8:00 a.m., because work starts unfailingly by 9:00 a.m.  Today is no exception as I dash out of the house at exactly 8:00 a.m.

    My job feels like I’m doing every other person’s job with them, and I don’t have a fixed role. My tasks for today include assisting the sales team to create pitch decks for their clients. It also involves helping the creative team fine-tune a deliverable for a client. Additionally, I also have to assist the CEO, who I’m primarily hired to assist, with ensuring everyone turns in their deliverables. My saving grace is that I’ve always been an everywhere but nowhere person, and over time, I’ve learnt to have eyes on multiple things at the same time. 

    It’s 8:30 a.m. when I get to the office so I take some time to relax. I make a phone call to let my housemates know I’m at work. I spend a few minutes remembering all of what I did last week, and how to bring it forward into the new week. Then I mentally prepare myself for whatever kind of day that’s waiting for me ahead. At a few minutes to 9:00 a.m., I turn on my computer and Slack notifications begin to troop in. Now my day truly begins.

    TUESDAY:

    A typical day in the life of an executive assistant involves a lot of fire fighting. Something is always going on somewhere that requires your attention. However, if you take your eyes off from other tasks and focus on one for too long, you might lose the plot. A lot of the work involves compartmentalising and focusing on putting out one fire after the other. I don’t attend to notifications immediately they come in unless I’m free to immediately work on it. I also try not to dismiss the notification tray because out of sight is out of mind. My day is planned to the tiniest detail, and that’s where my trusted Airtable comes into play. With it,  I’ve automated every form of reminder possible. A snippet from my Airtable notifications today looks like this:

    10 a.m. — Reminder to remind the sales team about closing invoice payment.

    10:15 a.m.  — Reminder to submit a draft of a pitch deck that was due yesterday. 

    10:30 a.m. — Reminder about meeting with potential clients. For the meeting, you need to have prepared slides to convince them why they should part with their money. 

    1:00 p.m. — Reminder to eat so that you can function.

    1:20 p.m. — 5:00 p.m. — Firefighting. Firefighting. Firefighting. 

    The process is not seamless because things still slip through my attention but I’m always improving on it. I like to think I’m a work in progress. If you asked me to describe my job, I’d say it’s pretty much doing almost all that the CEO is doing but in an assistant capacity. It’s a lot of being on top of all that’s happening in the company but not collecting CEO-level salary. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    My colleagues woke up today and chose violence. That’s the only rational explanation for why I got to work and they started to hail me as “Executive”. It’s ridiculous because what’s the use of an executive title if I’m still jumping buses all over Lagos or still flying bikes to work? I won’t lie, there’s a lot of pressure to perform at this job. Because of the proximity to the CEO, there are a lot of expectations. There are people who expect your salary to be out of this world. Lol. There are people who expect you to automatically know a million and one terms and buzzwords because you’re the CEO’s eyes and ears. There are also people who think you are the baby CEO so you have some magic solve-it-all solution to their problems. Everyone with their unique wahala. 

    I’ll be spending time today with the guys in the finance department to go through our books, and I’m stressed in advance. I know that after I close from work, I’ll have to do a lot of studying. Mostly because finance guys use a lot of terminologies I’m not familiar with. Half of this job is nodding enthusiastically through big words in the day and spending my whole night furiously Googling the meaning of these words. The other half of the job is dreaming about sleep because I haven’t been sleeping enough. 

    I’m trying not to worry too much because I’m still new in the role and I think I’ll settle in with time. It’s just that my performance review is coming up and I don’t know where I stand — I know it’s neither good nor bad but I can’t say where I fall. I wonder why human beings have to go through so much stress to earn money. It’d have been nice if I could just walk down the street and someone would dash me money. 

    THURSDAY:

    I don’t want to let down the entire company so this means that I’m always on my toes. Sometimes I’m grooving over the weekend and I see a message from my boss and my heart skips. However, I’m learning not to panic when messages come in. The toughest part of my job has to be learning in a short period of time what has taken other people years to learn. Because whether I like it or not, I have to perform and collaborate with the different teams in the company. My job is to figure out if I want to cry, faint or lose my mind before I learn what’s required of me. I rotate my options depending on my mood that day.

    On the flip side, the best part of the job is that I get to meet people. Every week I get to listen directly to rich, smart people talk about their work. Even though I’m in these conversations to assist the CEO, I still find some of the meetings fun. Like the meeting I’m in today. Although I’ve zoned out a couple of times, I’ve enjoyed listening to the banter and business-speak. Thankfully, every time I’ve zoned out I’ve had buzzwords like “ecosystem”, “investor” call me back to the present. 

    I can’t wait for lunchtime because all this talk with big English has left me feeling famished.

    FRIDAY:

    I need to sleep. But I don’t sleep well because I don’t own my time. I sleep late because my colleagues won’t stop texting me till late at night. I also wake up early because people still won’t stop texting me. I can’t nap in the afternoon because someone always needs me to fill out a form or pull up a document for them. This has led to me constantly falling asleep in awkward places. Today, I slept off in front of the T.V while watching The Office for the hundredth time on Netflix. My housemates already call me 30+ and sleeping off just validates their theory. 

    I hope that the long hours and anxiety-driven schedule are worth it. I want to learn as much as possible about what it takes to successfully run a business in Nigeria. I also don’t mind forming useful relationships along the way. As long as everything builds my competence to the level where I can successfully run my own company [N.G.O] one day. Even though I’m constantly looking at the big picture, I’m also learning to take things one day at a time. After all, this is just my second month in this role. I need to be more patient with myself and I also need to sleep. Thank God the weekend is upon us. By Sunday, we resume the rat race all over again.

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week in the Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    [donation]

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , , , , ,
  • Trading Seriously Affects My Mental Health —A Week In The Life Of A Bitcoin Trader

    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 today’s “A Week In The Life” is a physiotherapist and Bitcoin trader. He talks to us about struggling with mental health as a trader, his dreams to become a renowned poet, and how trading changed his life for good.

    MONDAY:

    At 12 a.m., I’m mostly awake trading BTC. I look for people who want to sell BTC as I simultaneously text people who want to buy BTC. While talking to clients, I also place adverts on social media to attract both buyers and sellers. 

    As the hours move, I religiously monitor something called pips and candles — graphical movements that indicate market gains and losses — and I buy BTC to hold when the price dips. I do this in hopes that I can resell at a higher price when the market goes up. The funny thing is that the market might keep dipping as the day continues so I end up losing a lot of money. Alternatively, the market might also go up and I make a little profit. Because of this volatility, I barely sleep. Someone is either calling me for a transaction or I’m having nightmares that BTC crashed when I was asleep. Either way, I stay up as long as I can to monitor the charts.

    My midnight to early morning is the same cycle of buying, selling, placing advert and texting. However, my day takes a different turn because I have a 9-5. 

    In addition to trading BTC, I’m a licensed physiotherapist who manages private patients. I like to say that crypto is my side hustle while physiotherapy is the main work, but that’s not true —  crypto trading is what makes me comfortable.  

    It’s 5 a.m. when I finally close my laptop for the day and stop trading. I stop because I have a long day ahead. I’ve been booked for private physiotherapy sessions and my patients live in vastly different parts of Lagos. My current dilemma is how to avoid Lagos traffic without splitting myself into two. 

    My more important dilemma is that I need to sleep before I can do any form of thinking. When I wake up, I’ll figure out the next step.  

    TUESDAY:

    Trading crypto can change your life for both good and bad. You can get comfortable from this business, but your relationship with people will also suffer. 

    I don’t sleep because I’m always on my phone or laptop trading. I don’t reply to messages because I can’t carry on a conversation for long. I remember this one time I was on a date with someone who promised to never see me again.

    Why? I was looking at my phone all through the date. I couldn’t explain to her that I was losing huge amounts of money. Sometimes when I’m spiralling, I turn off my phone and take a break away from everybody. I encourage crypto traders to take breaks because no amount of money can make you happy as a full-time trader. You’re always thinking of how to double or triple the money. You’re always reading charts. And you’re also too familiar with watching all the profit you made at 7 a.m. go down the drain at night. 

    Today is a bad mental health day for me. Just for existing alone, I’ve lost almost ₦500,000 in a trade. Even though I know it’ll keep getting worse, I can’t stop staring at the screen. 

    When I can’t take it anymore, I pick up my car keys, turn off my phone and decide to go lodge in a hotel where I can be alone.  

    Trading crypto has changed my life. I’ve lost money today and I’m probably in debt, but I have friends who can loan me money until I bounce back. I’ve lost money today, and I’m crying in my car, but soon, I’ll cry in a well-furnished hotel room. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    Nothing seems to be working for the foul mood I’m in today. 

    I went somewhere to take tequila shots, it didn’t work. 

    I went to dye my hair, it didn’t work. 

    I went to binge eat, it also didn’t work. 

    In the evening, I’ll go to a bar to try to lift myself out of this deep sadness that I feel. 

    When I turn on my phone, I’m sure I’ll see that my friends have been looking for me. It’s ironic how someone will see a photo of me in the hotel and automatically assume I’m happy and balling.

    The constant up and downs in this business are really affecting my mental health. As a medic, I understand a bit about mental health, and this helps me fight thoughts like, “Why am I failing?” “Why am I losing money?” “Who did I offend?” 

    I’m not leaving here without a fight. Life is so useless that it’s not worth dying for. I’d rather life kills me itself before I kill myself. 

    THURSDAY:

    I feel better today, so I spend some time thinking about how social media can be misleading. When I’m making profit, I don’t party or club or even go out. I’m just indoors. 

    But the minute I start to experience back to back losses, I booze-up. If not, I’ll get frustrated. My friends and I have a tendency to make ourselves happy by partying, going clubbing and sometimes taking breaks. Because our approach to bad days looks like enjoyment, it’s easy to look like we don’t have bad days. It’s easy for people to say we’re always balling, always chopping life when the reality is that we’re “chopping life” because we just made a major loss. 

    What a big irony.

    FRIDAY:

    I’ve decided to leave the hotel today and to connect back with the world. The first message I see when I turn on my phone is someone asking me to open a BTC wallet for her and help her trade.

    I’m not the most honest person in the world, but I tell her never to ask anyone to open a wallet on her behalf because anyone in possession of your username and password can swindle you.

    I tell her that BTC wallets are quite easy to open. I also tell her that BTC trading isn’t some magic trick where you put in $50 and get $600 after two days. If the money will increase, it’ll do so by maybe $10. 

    After my speech, I pack my things and leave the hotel.

    I’m barely halfway from my house before I’m stopped by the Nigerian police. They’re shouting at me to park, and I know it’s because of my dyed hair that I’m being stopped. I greet the officers and quickly show them my physiotherapist ID card. The conversation takes a quick turn, and the officer who was shouting softens his voice. The next question he asks is, “Which medicine I fit use if I get Covid?”

    I tell him to go to the hospital if he thinks he has any symptoms. I can’t help but shake my head and sigh as I drive away from their checkpoint. Everyone in this country has a problem that’s doing them.

    SATURDAY:

    I wake up today feeling grateful for my 9-5. My physio job allows me to interact with patients which then forces me to read my books a bit. I love books and I love to read. If I didn’t have to earn a living, I’d probably be a poet or something. Writing poetry has been one of the ways I’ve expressed the intense wave of melancholy I experience. I’m hopeful that someone can relate to how I feel and that helps them feel less alone.

    Sadly, poetry can’t be a full-time job. That’s why I show up, regardless of how I feel, to trade.  

    If you ask me where I see myself in future, I’ll tell you that I just want two things: to release my second and third anthology of poems, and to finally be free from a screen.

    I’m tired. 

    I need to sleep with urgency and without worry about whatever the trading charts are saying. 

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

    [donation]

    Hassan Yahaya

    , , , , , ,