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Debt is just like the proverbial shege — it touches everybody. Almost everyone has had to deal with debt at one point or another, either due to money mistakes or urgent needs. I asked six Nigerians to share how they handled debt and what they learned from the experience. Here’s what they said.
I’m a mechanic, and in 2022, one of my regular customers dropped his car in my garage for repairs. His car’s AC system had issues. It wasn’t the first time his car — or even other cars — would spend the night in the garage, but that night, thieves broke into my garage and stole car parts. This customer’s engine — worth about ₦500k — was stolen.
The man refused to hear any explanation and insisted that I had to replace the engine. We finally agreed that I’d pay him ₦300k in instalments over six months. I paid twice but was broke by the third month and begged for an extension. He refused and got me arrested. I spent four nights in jail before a family member borrowed me money to pay for that month.
I still went into more debt during the remaining months because I had to keep borrowing from loan apps to meet the customer’s payment and avoid another prison episode. I finally finished paying all the money I owed to several apps in January 2024.
I don’t pray to experience that kind of situation again. I now try to be careful with the type of cars I allow to sleep over in my garage. If they steal a Benz, what will I do? I also pay for vigilantes in my street for added security. More importantly, I’m now avoiding loan apps. They’re easy to get, but the interest rates will keep you in a borrowing cycle for a long time. It’s better to ask friends and family for loans.
Charles*, 39
I was one of the people who lost their money to MMM in 2016. The worst part was that it wasn’t just my money; I had borrowed people’s money, too.
I was trying to double my profit, so I took my ₦300k life savings, borrowed ₦500k from two other people, and put it into the scheme. When it crashed, I started running away from my creditors. Omo, there’s no swear these people didn’t send to me. I kept blocking their calls, but they always used new numbers to send texts filled with swears and curses.
I only got to pay one of them back in 2019. The other person had died, and I still feel guilty about it today. It’s a bad sign to owe a dead person money. I’ve even seen the person in my dreams a couple of times. I’d have given the person’s relatives the money if I knew any of them. Unfortunately, I don’t, so I just have to live with the guilt.
The experience has taught me never to borrow money for any investment again. There’s always risk in investment, and losing money is easy.
Titi, 24
I borrowed ₦100k from my mum’s ajo contribution money to buy sneakers to sell online in 2021.
Before then, I’d been seeing people post items to sell on their WhatsApp and thought it was a good idea. I didn’t know these people didn’t own everything they posted o. They just posted pictures and only bought the items when people paid for them.
My mum kept the contribution money with me for safekeeping, and I thought I could quickly use it for business before she needed it in about six months. That’s how I bought about ten sneakers and started posting on WhatsApp. The business didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, and when the six months came, I only had ₦40k to pay.
I had to come clean with my mum, and she was very disappointed. She had to borrow money to meet up, and I eventually paid her back after some months, but I know I destroyed her trust in me. I should’ve involved her right from the start. She’d have even warned me about the foolishness of using that much money to start a business I’d never tried before.
Joseph*, 22
I used to have a bit of a gambling problem. I don’t gamble as much now, but the dumbest thing I did was gamble ₦80k out of my school fees on a ticket I thought was “too sure” in 2023.
I lost the money, and instead of telling my parents, I borrowed ₦10k from a loan app and bet it on another ticket to triple the money. I lost that one, too. I was too scared to tell my parents, so I kept going to school like everything was okay. I missed four exams because of non-payment of school fees, but I still didn’t tell anybody.
My parents only found out when the loan app called them and told them to make me repay the loan or risk going to prison. I had to tell them everything. They’ve settled the debts now, but I automatically have four carry-overs. Even me, I know I made a series of terrible decisions.
Lizzy*, 29
I went into debt in 2020 after I trusted a close friend and agreed to stand in as a guarantor for him to collect a ₦700k loan from a microfinance bank. He used the money to japa without telling anyone. We only met his apartment completely empty.
Of course, the bank came to hold me when they didn’t see him. I had to repay that loan monthly for the next two years. Thinking about it still annoys me but I know I’ll catch this “friend” one day. He thinks he’s run away, but hand will still touch him. I can’t stand in as a guarantor for anyone anymore, though. I’ve learned my lesson.
Israel*, 33
I got scammed trying to japa in 2019 and lost about ₦1m. I had borrowed that money from a friend who works at the bank with the promise that I’d repay the money once I started working abroad.
But my agent ran away with my money. I was right back at square one, and I had a debt to settle. Fortunately, my friend was very understanding and told me to pay any amount I was comfortable paying monthly. I used a year to finish repaying that money, and he never once stressed me. He even returned ₦300k to me after I finished paying.
When I later asked him why he was so relaxed, he said it wasn’t the first time I’d borrowed money from him, and I always repaid. He said, “I know this situation isn’t your fault, but I know you and trusted that you’d do the right thing”.
That left me with something. We can’t always avoid unforeseen situations like debt, but having a good reputation might just make all the difference in how your creditor treats you.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
What was your first “I have to make this money” moment?
It was after one small nail killed my younger sister in 2000. We were playing outside when she stepped on it. The people we lived with just put bandages on her leg and left her like that. A week later, she started jerking like someone who had convulsions.
They called my father, and he took her to elewe omo (herbal medical practitioners). Those ones asked him to buy something, and he started pursuing some of his debtors to get money. To cut the story short, my sister died.
I was 13 years old, and she was 10. If there was money, she’d have been treated faster. We wouldn’t even have had to live with other people in the first place.
I’m so sorry. Which people were you living with?
I don’t know how to describe the relationship. They were probably distant relatives. But I called the man and his wife Mummy and Daddy.
My parents had seven children — apart from the other children from my dad’s two other wives — and they sent us to live with different family members when it became tough to raise us. My father earned little from his carpenter income, and my mother also made small change as a hairdresser. That’s why my sister and I were sent to live with those people. We’d only stayed a year when the incident happened.
Did you continue living with them?
I didn’t have a choice, even though I was angry. I’m sure they wouldn’t have left their own children like that, but you can’t tell someone who’s feeding you that the meat in your food has too much bone. Also, the man was the one paying my school fees. The only thing I could do was to make some money, so I wouldn’t have to wait for anybody to do something again.
What was the first thing you ever did for money?
I sold empty soft drink bottles in SS 1. This was around 2001-2002. One woman sold soft drinks to my school’s teachers and rich students. She was always at the school’s gate, but I didn’t have money to buy from her. I noticed she always came inside the school to look for empty bottles to exchange with her soft drinks suppliers.
We had plenty of those bottles at home because Mummy also sold them. So, I approached the woman and told her I’d sell them to her. I can’t remember how much we agreed on for each bottle, but she paid me ₦5 weekly for the bottles. I sneaked bottles from the house in my big school bag for six months.
Mummy eventually caught me with the bottles one day. She’d noticed the missing bottles, but there were always plenty of people in the house, so I could say it wasn’t me. The beating I got when they caught me ehn? Ah. it was serious gan. I still carry the scar on my back. After the beating, they called my father to come and take me.
Was that the end of living with them?
Yes. It was also the end of school. My father said, “Since you’ve decided to become a thief, you better start looking for money.”
First, I did labourer work at a construction site near our street. My job was to pack the blocks from where they were spread to dry to the place where the bricklayers used them. At one point, I was also pushing a wheelbarrow filled with stones. For all of this, I got paid ₦50/day.
I only worked there for three weeks because the oga stopped paying after the first week. He was always talking story.
What did you do next?
I started helping a market woman sell poly bags. She’d give me five bags, and I’d walk around the market to sell them to women who were buying things. I think each poly bag was like ₦5. If I sold ten, she gave me ₦1.
The money was too small, so I decided to buy my own poly bags to resell. The profit didn’t make sense so I abandoned it too.
After that, I became a sales boy at a poultry. The owner paid me ₦500/month to stay in the shop and sell eggs. They pursued me after three months because I almost stole all their eggs.
Ah
They beat me and reported me to my father. After he also beat me, he told me I was going to learn carpenter work under him so I’d stop disgracing him up and down.
How long did you learn carpentry?
I’m not sure how long it took me to learn, but I worked with my father from 2003 to 2014. He didn’t pay me, so I made money by adding small small change to the price of materials whenever he sent me to buy them. That’s what I used to hold body.
From 2010, I was the one who did the work for his customers because he started having health issues. Whenever that happened, he allowed me to take the payment. It was a good arrangement. I didn’t have to pay for shop rent and was making money — sometimes ₦10k for a one-week job, sometimes ₦50k.
I even thought I was going to inherit the shop, but I had to run away in 2014 after an issue with a cult group in my area.
What happened?
Woman matter o. I was dating one girl who didn’t tell me she was dating a cultist. When the cultist and his friends came to warn me, I was forming strong man. I said they should let the woman make her own choice.
I realised they were serious when I found a human finger in front of my father’s shop. On the same day, they went to see my mother and told her to warn me to disappear if she didn’t want to bury me. I left Lagos and went to live with an uncle in another state.
What was that like?
Hm. There is broke, and there is — what do you people call it? Sapa, abi? I was deep inside sapa. My uncle had a fish pond, and I started helping him for free.
But unlike the previous places I’d worked where I managed to remove small change, I couldn’t do anything like that because my uncle was always around. If he wasn’t at the shop, his wife and children were there. I was so annoyed. They were feeding me o, but as a man, you should have small money in your hand.
I managed for a year before I convinced my uncle to let me go and learn mechanic work.
Why mechanic?
I didn’t want to learn any work jare. I just wanted to find a way to leave his house without causing a fight. I told him that one of my friends in another state knew a mechanic who didn’t charge a lot of money. He agreed and allowed me to go. He even gave me ₦20k. That’s how I returned to Lagos in 2015.
What about the cultists?
I didn’t go back to my family house. Instead, I went to squat with a friend who lived far from our house. I concluded that Lagos is big, and it’ll be hard for them to find me. Also, one year had already passed. Didn’t they have other people to fight?
Anyway, the friend I stayed with was a yahoo boy and I also wanted to learn the work. I think I have bad luck because police raided my friend’s house and arrested all of us just one week after I started living there.
Ah. They knew he was a yahoo boy?
They suspected. It was one of his neighbours who gave a hint to the police. You know when boys have big generators, sound systems and POP ceilings, everyone begins to suspect them.
My friend settled the case with the police and was released, but I spent four months in prison — they wanted me to bribe them, but I kept saying I didn’t have money. In the end, I had to call my father to look for ₦80k so they’d release me. That was how he even knew I was back in Lagos. Looking for the money took another two weeks.
I was sick for several months after my release. Prison is not a good place. It’s just God that said I won’t die.
Phew. Sorry you went through that
At this point, I was just ready to calm down in one place, make small money and live peacefully. I returned to stay with my uncle in 2016, and he allowed me to use a small space in front of his house to work as a carpenter.
Small small, I started getting clients. The first time I made big money was in 2018. Someone was building a new school and called me to make 250 chairs and tables for her. I made ₦200k in profit. I could’ve made more, but the woman can price ehn. I just took the work because it was my first big job.
I used the money to rent a ₦100k/year apartment and used the balance for my wedding. I also got married that year.
Nice
That was my first and only big job. But I was still doing quite well and making small money — at least ₦40k – ₦50k monthly.
2020 was a bad year because of the lockdown and everything becoming more expensive. But I was still surviving small small.
Towards the end of 2022, I started considering finding something else to do.
Why?
The market became somehow. One time, I charged a customer ₦60k for a dining table, thinking I’d use like ₦40k to buy wood and other materials. By the time I reached the market, everything I needed cost ₦55k, and I couldn’t go back to tell the customer that I wanted to increase the money.
I had to buy less quality materials to deliver, but even that caused problems because the customer kept complaining. I started telling customers to buy the materials themselves, but I had to stop when they started trying to make me collect ₦10k-₦20k for workmanship.
I’d also moved from using my uncle’s space to my own shop back in 2019, and paying the ₦80k/year rent became difficult.
I shared my troubles with one of the alhajis in my local mosque, and he asked me to think about a business I could do and get back to him. I decided on okada. It seemed profitable.
Everyone in my town uses okada, and I won’t have to think about looking for money to pay shop rent or buy goods. I told the alhaji and he bought me an okada in 2023.
Has this been more profitable?
It was profitable at first. I made up to ₦6k/day after removing ₦1500 for fuel and ₦300 for tickets. I gave my shop to my wife, and she turned it into a salon. Things were going fine, and I was happy.
But Tinubu came and removed fuel subsidy in May 2023. I first parked my bike at home for one week because fuel became scarce. There’s a filling station near my house, but as early as 5 a.m., you’d see plenty of okadas already lining up. Being first in the queue didn’t even mean you’d see fuel to buy because the filling station people could come at 8 a.m. and say they didn’t have fuel.
I can relate like mad
Even when I finally found fuel, finding customers was another thing. Like other okada men, I had to increase the amount I charged because of the fuel matter. But people were more interested in trekking than paying ₦500 for a journey that usually costs ₦100.
I’ve been riding okada for just about a year, and I’m already regretting it. If not that someone gave me this okada, I would’ve sold it. I’ve just been moving from one wahala to the other. If fuel is not scarce, it’s expensive or even fake.
My okada started having issues late last year because of one fuel I bought from the black market. The mechanic said they mixed the fuel with something. I used about ₦30k to fix the engine when the problem started. Since then, I return to the mechanic to fix another problem at least once every month. That usually takes between ₦10k – ₦15k.
What pains me about this thing is that the alhaji bought the okada new. I should’ve still enjoyed it for a long time before having to repair it every time.
How much do you make these days?
Now, I struggle to make ₦4k daily. Most times, it’s ₦3k — after removing fuel and ticket money. I can’t go long distances because my okada can just start misbehaving. It’s tough, but I’m just trying my best.
I’m considering restarting my carpenter work on the side so I can earn extra cash. I need another income now, especially since I’m marrying a second wife soon.
A second wife?
Yes. She’s pregnant, and I can’t let my child be born as a bastard when my religion allows me to marry more than one wife. I didn’t intend to remarry so soon, but God has a way of doing things.
I hope to sort out the wedding plans within the next three months — I’m spending more money because she’s not living with me. I have to send her own feeding allowance separately. There’s also money for antenatal and medicine. I had to pay half of her ₦80k house rent in January. When we get married, those costs will be reduced.
I’m curious. What are your expenses like right now with your current home?
God is helping us because I don’t really calculate how much I spend. I just spend. But I give my wife ₦3k every two days to cook. We have one child who just started nursery school last term, and I paid ₦14k for his school fees and uniform.
I mentioned my wife has a salon, so she helps to pay for small things in the house like water and the NEPA bill. I pay the ₦150k rent for our two-bedroom house. I thank God for ajo. I make a ₦3k weekly ajo contribution, and it’s what I use to save for rent.
Why do you think carpentry would work now when it wasn’t profitable a few years ago?
Someone advised me to go into making bed frames. I heard it’s easier to make more money on them. Before, I focused on just tables and chairs. If I see ₦100k now, I’ll just make like two or three bed frames and display them in my wife’s salon. I’m sure customers will come.
Have you considered what would happen if they don’t come?
Ah. Are you wishing me bad? I just have to hope because if I can’t hope, I’d better just sit down at home. But if the business picks up, I may consider selling my okada and investing more in it. Let me just get my wedding out of the way first.
Let’s rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10
5. I’m not happy with my finances at all, but there’s hope.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
When did the hustle start for you?
1987. I was 17 and had just run away from home. I squatted with a friend whose mother sold ice water, so I started helping her hawk, too. Although she didn’t pay me, she fed and allowed me to live in the one-room apartment she shared with my friend.
It’s not like I hadn’t hustled before sha. My mother had a restaurant, and I always helped her cook and serve guests. But hawking ice water was the first thing I did on my own to survive.
Why did you run away from home?
I was a young, stubborn woman who wanted to experience life by making her own mistakes. I grew up in Ajegunle — a popular slum community in Lagos — and it was easy to follow the wrong crowd. You know, the type that drank and partied with area boys.
My stepfather always tried to discipline me. To me, it was like the man just didn’t want me to shine or was only trying to prove seniority. This led to us fighting a lot, and my mother was always on his side. So, I left home immediately after finishing class 5 — what you people call SS 3 now.
Did you have a plan, though?
Freedom was the only thing on my mind. I squatted with my friend for a year before her mother brought someone she was seeing to live with us. It was obvious that time had come for me to leave.
I squatted with another friend and got a job at a nearby canteen. My job was to keep the place clean and wash the plates. I can’t remember how much I earned, but it may have been around ₦200/month. ₦200 was enough to buy foodstuff — for me and my friend — to last at least three weeks.
Ah. Why wasn’t I born in the 80s?
Funny enough, we also complained about things getting expensive, but things were so much better then, compared to what our eyes see now. I was living well on that ₦200. I even saved out of it to pay to learn nursing in 1989.
Like nursing school?
Nursing school, ke? It was auxiliary nurse training. I paid a doctor some money, and he trained me in his clinic for two years.
Why did you decide to go into nursing?
I was tired of working at the restaurant, and nursing seemed like a more distinguished job. So, I asked around and found the doctor who trained me. I also worked for him during those years at his clinic. He saw that I was a fast learner and retained me after the training, paying me ₦1k/month.
Was that good money for 1991?
Somewhat. It was a small clinic, and I wasn’t an actual qualified nurse, so I was earning quite well at my level. It was enough to move out of my friend’s house and rent my own apartment.
Also, I mended my relationship with my family around this time. My mother reported me to one of my aunties in the village, and the woman appeared in the clinic one day to talk to me. Since I was now on good terms with my mother, I started sending money home once in a while. I wasn’t making money only from my job, though. I also started selling okrika (thrift clothes) in 1992.
How did that work?
You know I mentioned that I worked in a small clinic? Well, it’s not every time we had patients. The clinic had a verandah at the back that opened up to a major street. People always passed by, and I thought it was a great spot for an okrika business.
I used to buy the clothes I sold from Katangua market and display them on the verandah when work was slow. Thankfully, the doctor didn’t have a problem with it. I made roughly ₦4k in profits monthly from the clothes. That time you could buy up to ten shirts with ₦100.
My salary was ₦3k/month when I left the clinic. I spent five years there. I sold okrika throughout the years I spent at the clinic.
Why did you leave the clinic?
The doctor married a new wife who started complaining about my okrika business. I think the woman just didn’t like me. She helped her husband run the clinic, and one time, she put me on night duty for a month. I got angry and resigned. After I left, the woman started selling okrika at my spot.
What did you do next?
I got married and moved out of the area in 1997. I tried to continue selling okrika, but it was difficult to manage during pregnancy. There was one time I went to the market to buy more clothes to sell during my third trimester, and I fainted at my customer’s shop. She warned me seriously not to show my face until after I’d given birth.
While at home, I found another business idea.
What was that?
Jewellery. I lived close to a local government office and noticed that the staff loved owambes. I used to take my okrika to the offices to sell to them, but most of them either wore corporate clothes or ankara. However, they all wore jewellery. So, I decided I was going to sell that.
I started with watches and costume jewellery sets. I’d load them in my bag and go from office to office. The good thing about the business was that I could sell a ₦800 or ₦1k watch for ₦3k. The more expensive, the better. Office people like to dress well, and these ones thought that “expensive” meant quality.
Most of my customers bought on credit because they were salary earners. They only paid me at the end of the month. But it wasn’t hard to collect my money because the local government paid in cash then. The staff would all line up at the bank on salary day to withdraw money, and me too, I’d wait outside for them. Immediately I saw any of my customers come out, I’d go meet them to collect my money. They couldn’t tell me stories because we were in public.
Hehe. I love it
That was a good period for me, and I made a lot of money. My husband and I bought our first land for ₦100k in 2000. Unfortunately, we lost it years later to a land grabber — I mentioned it so you have an idea of how well the business was going.
In 2001, I bought my first mobile phone and SIM card. I think it was a Nokia 3310, but I know it cost ₦18k. The SIM card was also ₦18k. It’s hard to believe that these telecom companies basically give out SIM cards now.
2001 was also the year I started considering other business opportunities.
Did jewellery stop being profitable?
Something like that. The debt became too much. Some of my regular customers were transferred to other local governments, and I think the government also changed how it paid its staff. Or maybe the bank they used. I can’t recall well now. I just know it became more difficult for me to pursue my debtors and collect my money on time. So, even though I was still making some money, I was close to broke as most of it was tied up in bad debt.
I thought about it for a bit and decided it’d be best to get a shop and expand into shoes, bags and other accessories. That way, I wouldn’t limit my customer base to the local government office.
I found a small kiosk close to the local government office in 2002 and rented it at ₦12k/year. Then, I used all the money I had at the time from my jewellery sales to stock shoes and bags. It was a risk, but I knew I couldn’t start with two bags. No one would enter an empty shop.
Did the risk pay off?
It did. I was already popular in the area, so it wasn’t difficult to get customers. But I still couldn’t avoid credit buyers, so I tried to make up for delayed payments by increasing the cost for people who wanted to pay later. For instance, if I wanted to sell a bag for ₦2k, but the buyer wanted to pay later, I’d sell it for ₦3k. On average, I made ₦20k- ₦50k monthly.
My income went into assisting my husband to provide for the house and our three children. His mum also lived with us from 2000 to 2005, when she passed away. She suffered from a stroke, and a good part of our income went towards her medication too.
In 2006, I moved from the kiosk to a bigger shop where rent was ₦36k/year. I also added ankara and lace to the list of items I sold. Those were the days when people could just buy fabric and sew. I could buy six yards of material at ₦1k and sell it for ₦1800 or ₦2k. I stopped selling these in 2010 and faced my shoes and bags because people were no longer buying.
Do you know why?
It got more expensive — six yards of ankara fabric increased to ₦3k upwards without profit — and more people had more aso-ebi than they knew what to do with. It didn’t make sense to just buy fabric to sew when you’d get a new aso-ebi for someone’s wedding or burial by the next month.
But even though I stopped selling fabrics, I was comfortable. I still sell shoes and bags till now, but I really enjoyed the business during those early years. Some friends offered to help me land a job at the local government, but I laughed it off. Why should I sit in an office for ₦30k/month when I made up to ₦200k in two weeks during the Christmas season in 2015?
Now, I sometimes wonder if I should’ve taken the job because things started changing in 2016.
How so?
Buhari entered, and everything just scattered. I think 2016 was when the dollar first entered ₦300. I buy most of my goods from wholesalers in Lagos Island, who import them. With the rising price of the dollar, everything became more expensive. Fuel prices also increased.
I remember I had this bestseller that my customers really liked: a half-shoe that cost ₦1200 from the market. I always sold it at ₦2k. Then, this shoe moved from ₦1200 to ₦2k in a matter of weeks. People didn’t understand why I was suddenly trying to sell it to them at ₦2500. I was charging even less profit, but my customers still struggled to pay. I went from going to Lagos Island twice a week to restock to once every two weeks.
I began thinking of more ways to make money to cushion the decline and decided to try a business that grew popular in that period.
What business was that?
It was like a mini-provision business. People could no longer afford to buy tins of milo and milk or even full packs of cornflakes, so sellers started selling these provision items and cereals the same way they sell rice — with measurement cups. So, instead of spending ₦2k on a tin of milk, you could ask them to sell ₦500 worth for you, and they’d measure it with those tin cups and tie in a nylon.
I wasn’t too sure about the business — I heard some of the sellers buy these cereals in unmarked bags from factories — but the business was moving, so I decided to try it. I took ₦50k and used it to buy a few 50kg bags of milk, cornflakes, chocolate powder, and sugar. Then, I arranged them in one corner of my shop. This was 2017.
Was it profitable?
Profit is a different matter. It was selling fast because people needed to buy these things in small quantities, but the profit wasn’t much. I could sell a whole bag of milk and only make ₦2k in profit. The profit only made sense when I sold plenty of bags quickly.
But everybody likes good things, and soon enough, almost everybody was selling measurement cereals. It made sales even slower. I didn’t bother at first because I still had my shoes and bags to sell.
However, in 2019, I noticed that I was practically making nothing from it. The cereals got more expensive, and I couldn’t raise my prices too much because of competition. The last straw for me was when the bag of milk I usually bought for ₦16k increased to ₦30k in two days. I decided enough was enough.
So you returned to focusing on shoes and bags
I did. They were still expensive, but at least I didn’t have to sell my whole shop to make ₦1k profit. But business gradually grew worse as inflation grew worse. You don’t expect people looking for what to eat to think about getting a new bag. There were weeks in 2019 when I sold only one bag for the whole week.
Business was far worse in 2020 due to COVID. No one was going anywhere, and for a while, I returned to selling the measurement cereals. I was hardly making anything in terms of profit; I just sold it to have something to do.
In 2021, I decided to start selling ready-to-wear boubou gowns too. They were popular then, and I thought, “At least, if people don’t want shoes, they’ll buy gowns.”
How did that turn out?
It was a saving grace. People loved the gowns. I’d buy them for ₦1500 and sell them at ₦3k or ₦3,500. In addition to the few sales from the shoes and bags, I returned to making at least ₦30k monthly. In good months, I made ₦50k.
But good things hardly last in Nigeria. I began recording a slump in sales in 2023 after the whole fuel subsidy issue. Again, people were looking for how to survive, not how to look good.
As if that wasn’t enough, prices kept skyrocketing. The gowns moved from wholesale prices of ₦1500 – ₦2k to ₦3k, and then ₦4k. Now, wholesalers sell these gowns for ₦6k – ₦8k. By the time I add my profit, it’s around ₦10k. How many people are ready to buy simple boubou gowns for ₦10k? I’m so tired.
I can relate. What’s your income like these days?
My dear, I honestly don’t know. I went to the shop all through last week and didn’t sell a single item. Sometimes, I sell one pair of sandals, make ₦1k profit, and not sell anything again for the week.
It was much easier to make a good profit by selling bags. I could buy a bag for ₦5k and sell it for ₦9500. But when quality bags now cost ₦25k from the market, how much do I sell them for? I can’t even remember the last time I sold a bag.
I’ve been racking my brain about what I can add to my business to make money. I’ve considered a food business, but do I really want to try that with food prices going up every day? I just bought four pieces of shombo pepper for ₦500. Imagine doing that on a large scale.
I’m tired of the whole thing. It’s like I’m always trying to fight inflation, but it keeps beating me back. I’m not sure how long I can continue trying to keep my business afloat. Nigeria doesn’t even look like it’ll get better. My children have advised me to stay at home and rest. But I also don’t know if I’m ready for that. What will I be doing at home? I can’t sit idle.
What takes your money on a monthly basis?
Basically, feeding and transportation. I lost my husband in 2022, so it’s been just me and my last born in the house. My eldest is married, and my other one is in university. I pay school fees for the children still in school, but thankfully, my husband’s family also supports us. I don’t know how I’d have managed otherwise.
God is just good. The economy can be doing its own thing, but I’m not homeless or begging for food.
What’s something you want right now but can’t afford?
I want to send one of my children out of this country. At least, with one abroad, the other siblings can find ways to go too.
How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?
5. Things are tough, but I’m alive with my children. There’s hope.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
In 2014, Omolola Akintola left the US for Nigeria with a dream. She’d spent the last seven to eight years getting her degrees — a BSc in Economics, an MBA and an MSc in Marketing — and knew she didn’t want a long-term banking or consulting career.
“I wanted to do something different, something that didn’t already exist,” Lola tells me. “I wanted my own startup so I could solve a problem and impact Nigeria.”
She decided on greenhouse farming. Nigeria’s fine dining scene was on the rise and with it, the need for fresh produce. Lola predicted that it’d be difficult to keep up with importing produce like fresh strawberries and herbs, necessitating a need for all-year-round cultivation — the perfect market for a greenhouse farm.
But setting it up isn’t a small investment. The cost of a small 250 square meter-sized greenhouse averages ₦3m now, and Lola had big plans. Bigger than just one greenhouse.
“I knew what I wanted to do would involve a lot of money,” Lola says. “I planned to stay and work in the US for a few more years to raise capital for the farm and then return. But I fell in love with my partner and returned to Nigeria much earlier — let’s hope my dad doesn’t read this. Greenhouse farming was still the plan — specifically, a 10-year plan. I just needed to work for some years in Nigeria before that could happen.”
Soon after returning to Nigeria, Lola found a job at Access Bank, one of the country’s big four banks.
“I enjoyed my time at Access. I worked in the strategy department, and I felt useful. I loved the fast-paced, exciting environment. I was going to stay at the bank for years so I’d have saved enough for my greenhouse farm.”
However, Lola only spent a few months before she resigned to pursue another business idea.
A “breakfast for the skilled middle-class” business opportunity
Working at the Access Bank head office in Victoria Island opened Lola’s eyes to two things.
First, the 9-5 life for young professionals in Lagos is hard. She had to leave her home in VGC before 6 a.m. if she hoped to beat traffic and get to work by 8 a.m. Returning home wasn’t easier as long hours at work meant she often had to leave the office at 10 p.m.
Secondly, her new lifestyle meant she never had time to grab breakfast or prep food. This wasn’t a problem peculiar to her.
“My colleagues had the same problem. The higher-ups could afford to get in-house chefs or maids to bring them food. Married guys didn’t have to worry about food because they had someone else doing that labour for them. But the single men and women — mostly millennials — didn’t have time to cook their own food.”
Lola also noticed something interesting. The skilled middle-class wasn’t willing to rely only on roadside food.
“It was 2015 in Lagos, and people had disposable income. There was always a concert or show happening during the weekend, and people could afford to go. I had 9-5 friends in different industries too, and I knew that the average millennial Lagosian liked going to cafés on the Island to treat themselves to brunch on weekends. What if they didn’t have to wait for the weekend to treat themselves? What if they could have nice, fancy breakfasts delivered to them daily?”
“In business school, we discussed how businesses are gradually going online,” Lola says. “Buildings are disappearing, and people are exploring new ways of doing business. When I got the idea for a breakfast business, I knew I didn’t need to invest resources in a physical restaurant.”
It made economic sense to run her new idea as a subscription-based service, where customers could subscribe to a meal plan, pay and get their food delivered daily. This way, Lola didn’t have to worry about buying ingredients in bulk and hoping that the power supply was regular enough to store them.
She did a trial run with her sister and some friends first. “I’d close from work and prep the meals I wanted to send to them the next day. My menu included local and international (mostly American) cuisine. Most of what I did was self-taught and by reading recipe books. I already had a passion for cooking and wanted to attend culinary school to get professional skills, but that would’ve meant sponsoring myself and an additional two years of study. So, I decided to just start.
I’d wake up really early to cook and send the meals through my sister’s driver to save costs. Interest grew when other colleagues at work noticed my sister and friends having meals like tortilla wraps and quesadillas for breakfast.”
The referrals flew in, and Milk and Honey became a full-fledged business in 2015. Lola offered different meal plans, from the Bronze subscription plan (breakfast-only) at ₦7,500 weekly to the Platinum plan (including lunch) at ₦20k/weekly, with customised recipes designed to replicate the fine dining experience.
She did that for a few weeks before deciding she could no longer juggle it with her 9-5 at the bank.
“But I was wary about leaving because I had senior colleagues who loved me. Fortunately, I had to report to the NYSC orientation camp soon after, and I used the opportunity to resign. I couldn’t bring myself to do it face-to-face.”
Without the distractions from her 9-5, Lola could now give her full attention to building her business. And she did exactly that, but there was a lot to figure out.
“I was new in the country with a lot of theoretical knowledge. But I didn’t know how to get the right people to bring my vision to life. I was building a tech-enabled startup, so I needed to know where to find experienced website developers. Also, I knew the kind of packaging I wanted, but I needed someone who knew how and where to get materials to make it happen. My lawyer-sister helped with filling me in on legal registrations and regulations, but I needed someone who knew how to run a business specific to Nigeria — a partner.”
Olumide Akinsola became that person. Introduced through mutual friends, Olumide was the key to connecting Lola to everything she needed for her new startup.
“Olumide had a guy for everything,” Lola says. “We discussed the brand image, website and operations. It was like a meeting of the minds. He immediately saw the vision and ran with it. We created a system and knew it would work. We were creating the next big thing.”
Slow and steady [and expensive] growth
Naturally, running a business involves spending money. While Lola didn’t have to invest in a physical restaurant, she had to spend on chefs and kitchen assistants, branding, digital marketing and delivery bikes.
“I didn’t get external funding, and my parents’ support only extended to them allowing me to cook out of the home kitchen and using my dad’s car for delivery initially,” Lola explains. “I get it, though. My dad didn’t understand why I left my US degrees to come and cook.”
However, as Milk and Honey’s clientele expanded to over 300 subscribers, running the business out of her parents’ kitchen became impossible, so she had to rent a ₦1.1m/year kitchen space and office.
“I’d saved about $20k over 7-8 years working summer jobs in the US, and most of it went into keeping the business running between 2015 and 2018. It shouldn’t have cost that much, but like Temple Run, Nigeria kept bringing us new hurdles to jump over.”
Inflation and the adverse effects of government policies
In 2017, the Lagos State government announced a ban on commercial motorcycle (okada) and tricycle (keke) movements on major highways, bridges and roads. This wasn’t the first time the state would restrict bike activities — the last ban was in 2012 — but the new ban affected hundreds of routes, including Yaba, Surulere, Ikeja and the entire Lagos Island. These areas were the major hotspots for Milk and Honey’s activities.
Image: Tribune Online
“We initially bought two bikes for delivery,” Lola says. “But when the government impounds one, you have to go and beg, which affects delivery time. At one point, it was like we had to buy proper motorcycles that didn’t look like okada.
We did that, but we still ran into problems. When it became too much, we partnered with Gokada — the government allowed their bikes on the road. That cost us an extra ₦5k/day for each bike.”
With Nigeria’s age-long power supply problem and the need to keep generators running to preserve ingredients, Lola also had fuel price increases and scarcity to worry about. In 2016, fuel prices rose from ₦87 to ₦145 and maintained the same price between 2017 and 2018. However, frequent scarcity increased the price slightly at several points in the same period.
“It was just hard. I had to maintain relationships with several fuel station managers because no one knew when fuel would suddenly become scarce again.”
On top of all that, the naira kept falling against the dollar. By 2017, it had fallen to ₦300/dollar as against ₦197 to the dollar in the previous year. For an importation-heavy country like Nigeria, this led to a steep rise in the cost of packaging material Lola needed to keep her business going.
“We tried multiple things to keep our costs low. We started a recycling drive and encouraged our customers to return their plates for a discount, but it didn’t do much to minimise expenses,” Lola explains. “I also never paid myself a salary — even though I made sure my eight regular staff were never owed, but it was a lot of money. We had no choice but to increase the prices of some of our plans.”
Even as Milk and Honey was fighting for its life, the customers were fighting for theirs, too.
“People could no longer afford to pay ₦7,500 weekly (without delivery) for breakfast. It wasn’t like they were moving to different brands. There were just more important things they had to pay for or prioritise. When I started the business, I argued that people would always eat. Now it became clear that, yes, people would always eat. But what they ate was a different question. Bread and eggs could fill them just as much as a BLT sandwich.
For most of my bronze plan subscribers, the service was initially a small price to pay for luxury. But when the economy took a nosedive, it became a luxury they couldn’t afford. There just wasn’t as much disposable income to work with. We lost 70% of our bronze subscribers in 2017”.
Trying to stay ahead of the curve
In a quest to stay afloat and reinvent the wheel to continue serving her customers, Lola started offering health-based meal plans in 2017.
“I got a dietician, and we started offering nutrition consultations to create meal plans for people with dietary restrictions who wanted to stay healthy.”
Of course, this service was mostly used by the richer middle and upper-class who could afford to care about what they put in their mouths. The problem? This target audience was a tiny portion of Milk and Honey Gourmet’s initial customer base.
“I had to gradually abandon the idea that our service would be for the global millennial. I had to focus on older rich people, and this category isn’t necessarily online. I needed to re-invent Milk and Honey if we wanted to make enough to keep running. That would involve a new form of branding, marketing and the whole works.”
Making the difficult decision to exit the business
By 2018, it became clear that the economy was deteriorating faster than it was trying to improve, and everyone was struggling. Even Lola’s husband, who’d initially refused to leave Nigeria, had decided it was time to leave.
“At the end of the day, I didn’t really leave Milk and Honey. I left Nigeria,” Lola says. “I’d already calculated that the pivot to an older market was what we needed, and we could turn profitable in the next two to three years so I could take a step back and let the business run on its own.
But Nigeria just wasn’t working. Did I want to stay because of all the time and money I invested or because I thought Nigeria would get better? What if the upper class also have to make tough decisions and decide our services are an unnecessary luxury?”
Lola left Nigeria for the UK in December 2018 after giving her customers a month’s notice to shut down operations. She sold the remaining bikes and donated most of her cooking equipment.
“I rarely talk about Milk and Honey because giving it up was so sad. I’d invested everything into it; my finances and my mental and physical health, and for a while after it ended, I lost my confidence. I did everything by the books, and while that always resulted in success, I was suddenly introduced to the possibility of failure. That fear followed me into the other dreams I tried to pursue.”
As our conversation ended, I asked Lola what the experience has taught her about doing business in Nigeria and what other prospective business owners might benefit from knowing.
“Nigeria discards economic principles. I have a degree in marketing and knew all the fun things to do to make a business work, but one plus one was no longer equalling two. The government can announce a new policy, and you may think it’ll have a positive effect. But it doesn’t because they don’t follow through with all the other things that should make the policy work.
For instance, the government can announce it wants to tackle inflation by releasing funding. That should work, right? At the same time, the same government can decide to stop importation and allow only one person to produce an item. Or they sell forex cheaper to that person. It causes chaos. The word for the Nigerian economic market is just chaos. Some businesses are still making it work regardless, but it’s exhausting. All your permutations and projections can mean nothing at the end of the day.”
On what she thinks might help, Lola says, “So many businesses would do much better if the electricity and transportation problems were solved. If someone comes and solves just those two problems, I’d say they did a wonderful job.”
Ten years later, Lola isn’t the same person who stepped into the country with big dreams.
“I don’t think I’ll return to Nigeria. Many people are doing greenhouse farming now too, so no one needs me. I might consider returning for a vision that has to do with the girl child. If I’ll be helping save a million lives, then I can come back. Otherwise, I’m fine where I am.”
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
What’s your earliest memory of money?
My parents gave me ₦10 daily for snacks in primary school, and I spent it on those frozen powdered drinks sold as “ice cream”. ₦5 could get five of those, and I’d spend the balance on whatever. Life was good.
How good?
Good enough to take food to school and still have money to spend on whatever I wanted. My parents were civil servants, and sometimes, my dad would drive me to school. We were the average middle-class family. But then, my parents separated when I was in Primary 1, and money became a problem.
How so?
My mum, siblings and I had to leave our three-bedroom house and move in with a family friend until my mum could afford a one-room apartment. We even moved in when it was practically empty — we had just three plastic chairs.
My mum became the sole provider. I went from being the student with money to spend during lunch break to being one of the students who was sent home for not paying school fees. It was a harsh transition that lasted about three years before my parents got back together.
They stayed together for a year and separated again — for good this time — when I was in Primary 5. This was in 2008.
What did this mean to you?
It affected me more than it did the first time. I must’ve been around six when we had to leave the first time, and I don’t remember feeling sad that my dad wasn’t around. But by the final separation, I could see just how much it affected my mum financially.
I was just about to enter secondary school, and she’d always talk about trying to raise money for my fees. At the end of the day, she had to convince my principal to waive some extra charges so I could resume school after I’d spent a few weeks at home.
Then my mum got laid off from work when I was in JSS 2 and started selling raw grains to make money. I helped her anytime I was home from school. That was the first thing I did to earn money.
Did your mum pay you?
Yes. People in our area couldn’t afford to buy in bulk, so she’d open a bag of grains and ask me to divide them into smaller portions and tie them in smaller bags. She paid ₦100 for every bag I tied, and I could tie two to three bags in a day.
I did that on and off during the weekends. In SS 2, I started selling chocolates to my classmates. I’d moved in with a family friend to reduce the financial burden on my mum, and I decided I needed to make extra money to cover transportation and other things I needed at school.
My mum was still paying for my school fees and sending a ₦2k – ₦3k monthly allowance, but the extra money from the chocolates came in handy for additional expenses.
What kind of profit did you make?
A pack of 80 pieces cost ₦300, and transportation to and fro the market cost ₦100. I sold each candy at ₦10, making ₦400 in profit after removing the cost of buying and transportation.
I sold the chocolates until I left secondary school in 2014. I didn’t get admission into university until 2018. I first took on a ₦14k/month waitress job and then left to work as a receptionist at a photo studio for ₦15k/month.
After a few months, my mum had an accident, and I had to stay home to take care of her. It was while I was at home that I started writing for money in 2016.
How did you start writing?
I read a lot and often wrote to replicate what I read. I wrote a lot about everything going on in my family. I posted some of these stories on Nairaland and met the first person who paid me to write. She paid me ₦1k for a 1000-word lifestyle article. She liked it and gave me three more writing gigs. I made ₦4500 in total from her.
I applied for more writing gigs on Nairaland and gradually got clients. I could write up to three articles weekly and earn between ₦6k – ₦10k. That became my primary source of income till I finally got into uni in 2018.
Did you continue the writing gigs in uni?
Managing the gigs and school work was difficult, especially because I used my phone to write. Since I didn’t have a laptop, I’d first write out the articles on paper before typing them into my phone. It was too stressful, so I just stopped looking for gigs.
Around the same time, I saw an advert for a modelling audition at school and decided to apply. I passed the audition and got cast to walk for a fashion show for free. I was happy to do it for the experience. The agency offered to sign me on, and I paid ₦5k to register as one of their models.
How does modelling for an agency work?
A modelling agency should train their models, send them out for gigs and then handle payment. Unfortunately for me, my agency only took their models to parties and clubs to meet men.
The final straw was when they made me do a nude photoshoot. I wasn’t comfortable with my nude pictures being out for anyone to see, so I quit. I was with them for only five months.
Did you try to get gigs on your own?
I went for multiple auditions, but I’m short, and most of the casting directors said they wanted someone 5’9” and above.
I didn’t get another gig until 2019 when I got paid ₦10k to walk the runway for a one-day show. The fashion house owner saw one of my online practice videos and liked it.
That show helped me meet other people in the industry and build a network. I started getting small modelling gigs once or twice a month. ₦7k for a photoshoot here and ₦5k to work with a make-up artist there.
I spent most of what I made on transportation. In modelling, you’re always on the move for one rehearsal, fitting or the like, and that took a lot of my money. When I wasn’t working on paid gigs, I worked on unpaid collaborations to build my portfolio. Honestly, it was just something I enjoyed doing, so I didn’t mind that I wasn’t making much from it.
But how were you surviving?
I picked up stage decoration — mostly from watching others do it — and did the odd decoration gig for faculty and departmental functions when I wasn’t modelling. That usually brought in ₦10k – ₦15k per gig, but it wasn’t regular. I hardly got any allowance from home.
In 2021, another modelling agency signed me. I found them on Instagram and they looked legit. I paid ₦15k to register, but I left after six months.
Why?
The gigs weren’t coming. None of the new models got gigs within that period, and I couldn’t even take on outside jobs. At that point, I decided to give modelling a break.
I took up a part-time job as an assistant to someone who produced cosmetics. It was just twice a week and paid ₦20k/month. It was the highest I’d ever made up to that point, and it helped that it didn’t interfere with school. I worked there for seven months and left when I was about to enter my final year because I needed to go for a three-month teaching practice internship.
Did you get paid for this internship?
Nope. I survived by taking random modelling and movie extra gigs on the weekends. I even got a small supporting role on a movie set once and got paid ₦70k after filming.
The school I interned at did try to retain me and offered ₦20k/month, but I didn’t take it. Around that time, I participated in a beauty contest/reality show situation that turned my life upside down.
I’m listening
I honestly don’t know why I keep falling for sham agencies, but I fell for this one. It was a pageant that was supposed to pay the winner ₦100k. I paid ₦5k for the application form, and the organisers housed me and the other contestants. Then, they began hounding us for votes.
This was how votes worked: You had to get people to “buy” votes for you by paying the organisers. Each vote cost ₦100, and most contestants bought their own votes just to get ahead.
I had to join them to buy votes after the organisers placed me in the “bottom five” group twice in a row. I contacted a few people for money but got no help, so I borrowed ₦10k from a loan app to buy my votes.
Did that help?
It kept me in the house until the main event. But then, the organisers came again and told us to start selling tickets for it, and I just gave up.
But I still had to repay the loan, and with interest, it came to about ₦13500. I started getting multiple calls from the loan guys after the pay-back date elapsed, and I panicked and took another loan from a different app to pay them. That’s how my loan cycle started in 2022.
I didn’t have a strong source of income, so it was easy to fall back on more apps to repay my debt. Plus, the interests were always so much. I’d borrow ₦18k and have to pay back ₦27k. Then I’d borrow ₦27k and have to pay ₦35k.
My debt had grown to ₦78k when I saw a WhatsApp BC about an opening for bikini girls for a pool party.
Bikini girls?
Dancers. We just had to dance in bikinis. The pay was ₦6k for a one-day event. I’d never worn a bikini in public before, but I was desperate for money. So, I applied and got the gig. I danced and got paid, but the organiser complained I was too self-conscious and stiff.
A week later, I got another bikini dancing gig for two weekends. That one paid ₦12k in total. I got another gig at a lounge that paid ₦5k to dance every Friday. I noticed the other girls got tips when they danced close to the men. So, I did the same thing and made ₦15k in tips on the first day.
I danced for a month and made enough money to clear my ₦78k debt. There was no reason for me to take the gigs anymore, so I left most of the WhatsApp groups that posted those jobs. But two weeks later, I realised I was pregnant. I couldn’t tell anyone, and I couldn’t keep it either, so I Googled options for an abortion. I found medication online that cost ₦38k. I didn’t have money, so I returned to the loan apps. I borrowed ₦45k and bought the drugs. While waiting for the drugs to be delivered to me, I had a miscarriage.
Damn
I couldn’t get a refund, and I had a debt of ₦70k — the loan amount + interest — to clear. The fastest way I knew to make money was to return to dancing, so I did that.
I found a club that hired strippers on a tip-sharing basis — they took 40% of every tip the dancers made. I worked there for a week and made ₦30k. I left because they didn’t allow dancers to wear masks, and I wasn’t comfortable.
The next gig I found only required me to strip dance at a lounge on Fridays and get paid ₦15k. Thankfully, I was allowed to wear a mask. I sometimes had sex with male customers to get extra tips — usually up to ₦15k/week. It weighed a lot on my conscience, so I only had the courage to work once every two weeks. That worked for a while, and I was able to reduce my dependence on loans.
But then, I hit a setback in 2023.
What happened?
I lost over ₦200k to a fake Instagram vendor. I was trying to buy a phone, and the vendor looked legit. I borrowed the money from several loan apps. But the vendor took my money and blocked me. Thinking about it now, it was a very unwise decision.
I began another round of borrowing to repay the different apps. But again, their interest rates were high, and within three months, my debt had grown to ₦700k.
Yikes. What was the plan to settle that?
I had to start stripping every weekend to meet up. Sometimes, I dance twice weekly, depending on how often the gigs come.
I graduated from university in 2023 and am currently serving, but I still have debt, so I strip and dance. I do any job I can find at clubs: bikini dancing, bottle service and stripping. I make at least ₦50k weekly.
How much do you currently owe?
₦215k. I created a list with all the apps I owed and gradually paid them off according to who I first borrowed from to limit the multiple calls and reminders to pay. They even called my mum and sister multiple times to threaten them. But I was determined not to borrow from more apps to pay back my debts, so it helped me progress. I’m not putting myself under any pressure to pay anymore. When I have, I pay.
You mentioned you’re currently serving. The extra income must be welcome
It is. I started NYSC in February, and my PPA pays ₦30k/month. Then there’s the ₦33k NYSC stipend. However, I spend ₦30k monthly transporting to and from my PPA, where I work as a front desk officer. So, it’s only the ₦33k stipend I can say is mine. I also rented a ₦300k/year apartment in March, so saving for rent takes part of it.
Can you break down these expenses into a typical month?
Thankfully, I’m the youngest in my family, so there’s no black tax. I also don’t have a “flex” budget because I know I’ve been super irresponsible with money in the past, and I’m just trying to move past my mistakes.
My experiences have made me a lot wiser. For instance, I currently have ₦120k saved up for rent that’s due next year. My relationship with money isn’t healthy yet, but I’m on the right path.
How do you juggle a 9-5 with the many gigs you do?
There are days when I go to the lounge to dance straight from my PPA and then go from there back to work the next day. That’s after dancing in heels for hours. But I don’t have a choice. I have to dance so I can pay off my debts.
Apart from the long hours, stripping can also be very demeaning. It’s a mental struggle. I can be dancing on my own and someone would come and try to pull off my lingerie or touch me. Some days, I finish working and go back home to cry. Like, this isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing.
I make sure to always wear masks as a way to preserve the little dignity I have left. I overhear snide remarks from male customers all the time. Stuff like, “This one is only good for sex”. It’s crazy how people judge you for the same things they’re there for, but this is Nigeria.
Have you considered what the next few years of your life might look like?
I’m actively planning for my future. I hope to transition into tech after NYSC, and I’m taking courses in preparation. One is a virtual assistant course, and the other is about using AI to write. Both courses cost me ₦57k, but I see it as investing in my future.
How much do you think you’ll earn monthly from these skills?
₦500k/monthly would be a good starting point. The aim is to earn in dollars.
Rooting for you. Do you have financial regrets? Apart from the loans
I wish I’d reached out to family and friends when I first got into the loan cycle. My parents don’t support me anymore, but I could’ve reached out to my siblings and friends for help with my debt rather than going at it alone.
It would’ve been quite embarrassing, but at least, I wouldn’t have gotten into as much debt to resort to everything I’m doing now to get out of it.
How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1 – 10?
5. It’d be higher when I start earning money in a manner I consider dignified.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
Tell me your earliest memory of money
I stole ₦10 from my mum’s purse when I was 10 years old. I was annoyed that she always made me homemade food when my mates got money to buy food at school. I thought she was purposely trying to make me “uncool”, so I took matters into my own hands. This was around 1998, and ₦10 wasn’t small money.
I used part of the money to buy tampico and puff-puff on the first day. But my teacher noticed I bought snacks instead of eating the usual rice at my desk and gave amebo to my mum when she came to pick me up. I had to confess where I got the money. My mum made sure a teacher flogged me every day on the assembly ground for a whole week.
She also made me wear a cardboard placard that read, “I am a thief” on my uniform. She wanted me to wear it for a week, but my teacher begged on my behalf, and I only wore it for one day.
But that one day ehn? I was so embarrassed. My classmates called me “I am a thief” for the whole term. That was the first and last time I stole anything — not even meat from the pot.
I guess it’s safe to assume your mum was strict
Both parents were very strict, and their disciplinary methods sometimes bordered on abuse. There was a lot of flogging and creative punishments whenever my siblings and I misbehaved.
My parents were pastors and held their three children to high standards. I’m also the firstborn, so the expectation was times a hundred.
For example, I couldn’t collect monetary gifts from people in church even though we really needed the money. My parents thought it’d trigger the love of money in me — which, according to the Bible, is the root of all evil.
Were things hard at home?
Very. My mum wasn’t a full-time pastor like my dad; she had a provision store, and we lived on the sales from the store.
My dad got a salary from the church, but it mustn’t have been much because he occasionally borrowed money from my mum’s business.
I was once sent out of school in primary five because we hadn’t paid school fees. I later found out it wasn’t the first time my school fee had been delayed, but the teachers didn’t punish me out of respect for my dad.
I really hated not having enough money, though. I saw how important money was, and it didn’t make sense that admitting a need for money equalled sinning against God. So, I decided to find ways to make money as soon as I was old enough.
When was “old enough”?
As soon as I got into the university and no longer lived under my parent’s roof. I got into uni in 2007 and immediately started hustling.
The first thing I did to make money was serve as the class rep for my level.
They pay class reps now?
Haha, no. But it gave me an opportunity to make money. Lecturers were always selling handouts, and I’d sometimes add small money to the price. That didn’t work all the time, though. Most times, the lecturers announced the price of handouts in class.
I also made money from photocopying the handouts. This only worked for an elderly lecturer. For instance, I’d tell her that only 100 students paid when 105 did. Then, I’d make five extra copies for the other students. Photocopies could cost about ₦500, and each handout could be about ₦1500. I’m not proud of it, but I made some money.
What were you doing when you weren’t selling handouts?
Everything. When I was in 200 level, I started playing instruments for two different churches on Sundays — learning how to play instruments was one benefit of growing up as a pastor’s kid. I was paid in transport fare and made between ₦3k – ₦4k weekly. I also had stints assisting the cyber cafe and photographer guys on campus for money. My parents sent me ₦10k/month, and I just used to jama jama everything together to survive.
I didn’t really do much for money in my last two years in uni because I unexpectedly became more involved at church. The pastor also put me on a ₦20k/month allowance to support me, so that helped.
Why do you say “unexpectedly”?
I didn’t really like the idea of church growing up. I didn’t like how seriously my parents took it and the fact that we didn’t have money. So, I thought becoming independent would allow me to be as far away from the church as I wanted.
Ironically, I gave my life to Christ and became closer to the church. In fact, I was an executive of the corpers’ fellowship during NYSC in 2013.
I also helped start a fellowship at the secondary school where I worked during my service year. The school paid me a ₦5k stipend in addition to NYSC’s ₦19800 allowance, and I used my income to support indigent students. I was posted to the north-central, and there were a lot of students like that.
But what were you living on?
I don’t know. I just know I didn’t starve. Many of my students’ parents were farmers and they sent me foodstuff. I also lived in a hostel the school provided. There was accommodation and food. What else did I need?
After NYSC in 2014, God led me to volunteer with a student fellowship in the state where I served. Apart from spreading the gospel to students in secondary and tertiary institutions, the fellowship also organised training programs to help the students become well-rounded individuals and career professionals. I resonated with the vision, so I joined.
Did it come with a salary?
More like a stipend. ₦20k/month. I lived in the fellowship’s office, so once again, accommodation was sorted. Those were simple days — I was doing what I loved and didn’t have to worry about money.
I had very minimal expenses, so I saved most of what I made — except when I had to support students or anyone in need.
Were you saving towards a goal?
Not really. But in 2016, I used my entire savings — about ₦250k — to purchase land and other necessary materials to farm yam and rear chickens. It made sense because everyone else had a farm. Besides, I wanted something to do with all the extra time I had.
I wouldn’t say I made money from the farm because I hardly sold any produce. I either ate my harvest or used it to support other people.
This happened until 2021 when I left the fellowship.
Why did you leave?
I clashed with management over their decision-making. It felt like some people sat in an office and decided what the volunteers would do without leaving room for feedback. It took the joy out of the work, and I thought it was dangerous to approach God’s work feeling cheated.
I wanted to stay back in the north-central, but the Fulani herdsmen issue was getting worse, and I was about to get married. My fiancée lived in the west and wasn’t thrilled about moving there, so I joined her instead. I sold my farm for ₦300k, most of which went into our wedding expenses.
Did you have a plan to make money?
I planned to get a job, which turned out to be much harder than I imagined. I didn’t have formal work experience, so I got rejections left and right. For the first six months, my wife and I relied on her ₦150k operations manager salary. Then, I finally got a teaching job that paid ₦80k/month in 2022.
The salary wasn’t great, but my wife and I pooled resources together and made it work. We’d been living in her room and parlour apartment since we got married, but we moved to a ₦180k/year two-bedroom apartment towards the end of 2022.
Things were looking up
Yeah. But I felt like something was missing — like I wasn’t really where God wanted me to be. I prayed a bit and discussed it with my wife, and realised God still wanted me in ministry.
Around the same time, the pastor at the church my wife and I attended approached me and said he felt led to ask me to join the pastorate as a youth minister. We’d only been part of the church workforce for less than a year, and it seemed strange I’d become a minister so quickly. But I knew it was God directing me, so I accepted the role.
What does being a youth minister entail?
It’s like being a junior pastor. I don’t get paid because I’m not a full-time pastor, but I do everything a pastor does. I’m at church twice weekly and on Sunday for services.
My schedule worked pretty well while I was a teacher, but I got another job towards the end of 2023. Now, it’s harder to juggle both 9-5 and my work at the church.
What’s the job role?
I work in marketing for a drinks company; one of my wife’s relatives helped me get the job. My role requires me to travel for market activation, so I’m not always available for weekly church services.
I love the marketing part of the job, and it feels like I should’ve been on this career path much earlier. The salary is also good — ₦250k/month. It’s just that my conscience often pricks me about doing this job.
Why?
The company also produces alcoholic drinks, and I sometimes feel like I’m directly responsible for marketing something that has led so many lives astray. I don’t primarily cover the alcoholic drink category, but I occasionally have to work with the product.
My senior pastor and wife think I’m overthinking it, but I’m not sure I am. If not for the fact that I have a child now and my responsibilities have doubled, I’d have resigned. Even that reasoning increases my guilt. I’m working at a company I feel ashamed to talk about, and to make it worse, it’s taking over my time and reducing my availability for God. Is the need for money now overcoming my desire to be right with my God? Maybe my parents were right after all.
Hmmm
I’m praying to find something else soon because I don’t know how to explain to my wife that I want to quit without another job lined up. She’s an understanding woman, but I’m trying to be fair to her. She deserves to relax without constantly thinking about how to manage money. It’s not like the ₦250k even does much in this economy, but it’s better than ₦80k.
Fingers crossed you find something soon. But have you considered what you’ll do if you don’t?
I’ve thought about saving to start a poultry business I can fall back on while I figure out what to do with my career. But it almost doesn’t make sense to start a business in this economy.
Just last week, someone complained about how the price of chicken feed had almost doubled within a few weeks. What if I think I need ₦200k to start, then finish saving and realise I now need ₦400k? Planning is almost impossible in this country.
For now, I’ll just focus on trusting God to lead me. I’ve gone from being willing to do anything to make money to relying totally on Him for my finances. I’m currently at a point where it feels like I’m relying on money to live, and I need to leave this point and go back to relying on Him. I just need to retrace my steps.
Hopefully, you find that soon. Can you share a breakdown of your monthly expenses?
I have about ₦80k in my savings, but it’s more of an emergency fund. In Nigeria, one sickness or accident can carry all your money away. My dad is late, but my mum is elderly, and I constantly worry she’ll suddenly need medical care at any point. So, I like to prepare for any eventuality.
What’s one thing you want but can’t afford right now?
An inverter. It’s interesting that I spend more on fueling my generator than I do on electricity bills. And with all the different news we’re hearing about whether or not the fuel subsidy has truly been removed, the cost of fuel will only get higher. But I don’t have ₦2m to spend on an inverter right now.
How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?
3. I’m earning more than I ever have, but I don’t feel fulfilled. I was happier when I was earning ₦20k and doing what I loved.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
When was the first time you made money?
I worked as a childminder — an assistant class teacher — at a nursery school when I was 16. The school paid me ₦7k/month to look after the children and help with their school work. This was 2012, and I’d just graduated from secondary school. I took the job so I could reduce the time I spent at home.
Why’s that?
My parents often fought about money. Our financial situation wasn’t even terrible — my mum was a teacher and my dad was a lecturer — they just hardly agreed on what to do with money.
For instance, my dad would talk about saving money to pay school fees and house rent, but my mum didn’t think that should stop us from going out to eateries and parties on Saturdays. Then I started hearing my mum say my dad was hiding money so he wouldn’t have to spend it on what he called “unnecessary things.”
It was always one thing at home, and after secondary school, I had to get out and try to forge my own path.
Did your first job help you do that?
The job helped me earn a living and build a sense of responsibility. My parents still provided for me, but I had something to call my own. I even gave my siblings money sometimes. I also saved, but I usually spent it on food. I wasn’t keeping track of my expenses either.
When I got admitted into the university in 2014, I quit teaching and moved to the south for uni, which was a long way from home. My parents usually sent me ₦15k as my total allowance for a whole semester.
How did you survive on that?
I had an aunt who I called for financial assistance when I got broke, which was often.
In 300 level, I decided to start a business. I think ASUU had declared another strike, and I needed to start something that’d bring me money. That’s how I started selling ankara fabrics in 2017.
How did the business work?
I used about ₦5k to start. I’d buy two yards of ankara at ₦1k and sell for ₦1500 or ₦1800. My primary customers were my friends and classmates, but I also gave some of the fabric to someone who sold provisions in school to help me sell. That turned out to be a good idea because I soon expanded to buying six yards. She’d sell at a markup and remit the remaining money to me. I made between ₦3k – ₦4k in profits weekly.
Not bad
I also started a palm oil storage business that year; I heard it was lucrative. A village close to my school had several oil mills, so I used the profit I made from selling ankara to buy six gallons of palm oil at ₦4k each.
The trick was to buy in January when palm oil was cheap and store it till September when it becomes expensive. By September, I sold each gallon at ₦16k.
There was already a market for it so it was quite straightforward. I just took the oil to a depot that Hausa traders frequented. The traders brought in yam and potatoes to sell and they bought palm oil to take back to the north.
I did both businesses till I graduated from uni in 2019.
Would you say you made good money?
I was comfortable. Just before final year, I moved to an off-campus accommodation and paid the ₦84k annual rent myself. I was essentially taking care of myself; I didn’t disturb anyone for money and no one disturbed me.
That’s the dream, TBH
After graduation, I stayed back in the south. The COVID lockdown met me there the following year. I couldn’t sell ankara because of the restricted movement, so I decided on a new business idea: sex toys.
How?
I discovered a need. Before the lockdown, I heard stories from my mum about one family or the other having sex-related issues. You’d hear one aunty had never had an orgasm and was sexually dissatisfied in her marriage. Anytime I went home, my mum and her friends would swap stories like that.
When lockdown came, it was like sex was all people could talk about online and offline. So, I decided that pleasure was a need. My plan was to sell vibrators to married women so they’d at least get some satisfaction.
Married women?
Yes. Women were the ones suffering according to the stories I heard. Also, I felt married women were a market audience people hadn’t gotten into like that. Till now, the market still isn’t saturated.
How did you start the business?
I started by dropshipping for a sex toy company. I paid ₦10k to register as a reseller, which gave me access to their website for pictures and videos of their products. From there, I marketed the pictures on WhatsApp and put my own price. If someone signified interest, I’d buy the toy from the company at a discounted reseller’s price and keep the profit. The company was in charge of delivering the product to the customer. For instance, they could give me a vibrator at a reseller’s price of ₦12k and I’d sell for ₦20k – ₦22k.
I only sold one item for the company in the whole of 2020 sha. A wand vibrator that brought me a ₦5k profit.
Was it difficult to get customers?
The problem was the company. They hardly gave resellers good products. Customers would reach out to me for products but I couldn’t deliver. The company could just decide to refuse to sell, saying they’d finished selling that particular product to resellers and wanted to sell the remaining themselves. It was like they only left the worst products for resellers, and that wasn’t helping me.
Yikes. What did you do?
I stopped dropshipping for them in 2021 and decided to buy and market my own toys. In March, a friend gifted me $100 (about ₦50k) and I used it to buy my first set of toys — 13 pieces of vibrators, dildos and BDSM kits.
My plan was to run ads on Instagram so I wouldn’t depend on WhatsApp. I didn’t do that till around October because I changed cities and needed a few months to settle in.
Why did you change cities?
I was tired of where I was and wanted a change of environment. Plus, a friend offered to let me stay in one of their self-contained apartments for free, so it was a win-win.
Fast forward to October, I started reaching out to bloggers and Instagram influencers for ads. I paid ₦5k to one influencer, and ₦3k to another. That week, I made ₦150k in sales. Profit alone was about ₦100k.
That’s impressive
It was as if the whole city knew about me from those posts. That’s how my business kicked off. My main mode of marketing is still influencers, and I run ads continuously every month. In the early days, I spent about ₦15k monthly on the ads and made almost ten times that figure in sales.
I’m curious. Did you experience any challenges starting out?
Not really. My family knows I sell sex toys and everyone minds their business. I’ve even sold toys to my relatives. I hardly have issues with customers too. People love their sex toys, maybe even too much. They treat them like important items.
If I were to name a challenge, it’d be that people tend to abuse sex toys. I started with the intention of selling the toys to married people, but it’s mostly young people who buy them. They’d buy up to four or five toys at once and come back again the next month.
One time, I visited a friend and saw that she had eight vibrators. People buy several types to experiment with and toss them after a while. I mean, it’s good for business but it’s bad for them. Excessive usage like that can’t be healthy.
Oh, I didn’t mention I also started a decorative flower business in 2021.
Tell me more about that
I’m always on the lookout for business opportunities, and I stumbled on bonsai flowers. They’re used to decorate TV consoles and are imported from China. I made findings and started off buying small quantities from a supplier — like 20 at a time — and reselling.
At the time, each flower was ₦1k, and I sold to wholesalers at ₦1800 – ₦2000. I also created an Instagram page for the business. For retail customers, I could sell the flowers at any amount. I once sold four pieces at ₦5k each.
I got my big break in 2022 when my sugar daddy gave me ₦2.6m to invest in both my sex toy and flower businesses.
Woah. This is the first time you’re mentioning him
I met him through a friend during lockdown. He was the “friend” who allowed me to live in a free apartment. But I didn’t want to rely on anyone and wasn’t asking him for money. Living for free was enough for me. I just wanted to do my business and make money.
How he even gave me the ₦2.6m was funny. I’d given him some of the flowers, and he liked them. He asked if I could sell them on a larger scale, and I responded that I’d need at least 1000 pieces to start. Then he just announced that he’d give me the money. I used that money to buy 3000 flower pieces and about 100 sex toys in October 2022. Funny enough, we parted ways soon after.
That investment must’ve changed your income flow
It did. The thing about having so many products as a business owner is that you become more confident in your marketing. I think I cleared off that first bulk batch of flowers in seven weeks.
This is how it worked: I imported the pieces straight from China and stored them in a warehouse. Since I was buying so much, the cost price for each piece was ₦600. Clearance at the port was the same cost for each item. So, I also paid ₦600 for each item. That meant it cost me ₦1200 to bring one flower pot to Nigeria.
After I cleared the products, I started running ads on Instagram with influencers. Also, I sold mostly to wholesalers — people who could buy at least 400 pieces. The flower business is quite profitable in Nigeria o. I didn’t expect the turnover. I didn’t know so many people were into interior decor like that. I made about ₦3.2m in profit from the flowers in 2023.
That same year, I was finally able to afford to move into my dream two-bedroom apartment. That costs me ₦600k/year in rent.
Nice. So you run both businesses concurrently?
The flowers are like a side hustle. I imported only three times in 2023. It’s capital-intensive and clearance costs can be all over the place. I’ve not even imported anything this year. Right now, I work with a supplier in Lagos whenever someone reaches out wanting to buy them. So I just add a small profit on top and she sends it to them. It’s not regular and I don’t actively market so I can’t say I make a particular amount from it each month. My sex toy business brings in enough money for me.
How much do you make on average from the toys?
I comfortably make between ₦150k – ₦300k in profits monthly. ₦150k in a really bad month.
I’m currently in a good place with my finances. There’s a satisfaction that comes from knowing I can pay for most of the things I want. I can walk into an eatery and order food without first asking for the price. I can hang out with friends and travel — at least within Nigeria. But I’m okay.
Can you break down what these expenses look like in a good month?
I’m always home, so I hardly spend on transportation. But I often host get-togethers to spend time with friends, and that increases my feeding expenses. That’s usually like an extra ₦80k. It’s not every month though.
Also, I don’t save. I’m always buying one product or the other for my business so I always need liquid cash.
What about black tax?
I rarely send money home unless it’s absolutely necessary. Maybe ₦5k here or ₦10k there. The most I’ve ever spent on black tax was ₦100k a few years ago when I paid my parent’s rent. I’ve realised that black tax isn’t always from a place of need, it’s usually from entitlement and greed.
I sent money home regularly when I first started making money, but I shut that down when it became too much for me. I noticed everyone was still fine without my money, so they’ll continue to be fine.
What’s the hardest part of running a sex toy business?
People treat the toys like food. What I mean is, someone would place an order right now and expect it to be delivered immediately. Some are ready to pay double the delivery fee just to get it immediately. I think it’s the state of mind people are in when they order an item. I constantly have to manage expectations.
Is it weird that that’s the only “difficult” side to the business?
Uhm —
It’s just a relatively easy business. I don’t even look for customers anymore. Sometimes, I spend only ₦3k in a month for influencer marketing and I still make sales. My customer base is mostly repeat purchases and referrals.
How would you describe your relationship with money?
I believe money is a spirit. If I don’t plan how I want to spend money before it enters, I may end up spending it on emergencies or impulse purchases. So, I try to plan and track my expenses to avoid that.
Also, I’m earning well, even though it sometimes feels like I’m not with how the economy moves these days. I need to reach a point where my income is more than my expenses. Maybe then, things will begin to make sense.
How much do you think you should be earning for that to happen?
At least ₦3m/month. I say this because, even though I don’t have that many expenses, I spend a lot on my business. I have to restock regularly and my money is tied down until I sell them. The thing with business is, you’re always buying. It’s sometimes difficult to separate business money and personal money. So, if I’m earning ₦3m and spending like ₦1m, I’d be rich.
Have you considered what you’d need to get to that figure?
I started offering business training classes this year. In fact, my first class is a few months away. I’m charging people ₦50k to teach them about the palm oil storage business, and I’ve gotten seven students so far. I should start running ads to get more students soon. I also plan to hold mini-importation and business foundation classes. Let me teach what I know how to do best, right?
Get it! Is there anything you’d like to be better at financially?
Knowing how to grow my money through investments, but I’ll still need money for that. I bought two plots of land for ₦1.3m in 2023 and they’re worth about ₦2.4m now. The land is close to a university and I know I can make good money if I build on it. It’s that or I turn it into a farm. But these are plans for the future.
Is there anything you want but can’t afford right now?
A phone so I can have a separate business phone. It’s very difficult using one phone for both business and personal life because of the tons of messages and calls I get. I’m considering an iPhone 12, but that’s like ₦530k.
How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?
8. Maybe by the time I start the training classes and make small additional money, it’d be a 10. Ask me again in October.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
Resignations and layoffs aren’t strange terms in the world of capitalism, and while the latter usually comes as a surprise, it’s not often immediate. There are often a few days or weeks to tie up loose ends — the notice period, AKA that “hanging around” period when you’re not actually working but still “working”.
We asked some 9-5ers who’ve been in this situation to share what they did — or didn’t do — during this period. Think of it as a guide.
“Just go on leave” — Wilson*, 27
I went on my annual two-week leave and then sent in my one-month resignation notice on the first day of leave. That way, I used half of the notice period to rest before returning to discuss the handover. I thought my bosses would try to cut the leave short, but they didn’t. Everything went smoothly. I advise people to do the same, especially if they’re leaving to join another job. So, they can catch a little break before jumping into the 9-5 life again.
“Steal everything” — Esther, 23
I was fired from a social media management job because I couldn’t grow the Instagram followers from 3k to 15k in two months. To make it worse, they kept me for two weeks extra to help hire my replacement. I stayed because I wanted to get my full salary, but I stole all the office milo and milk sachets. At least, I was drinking tea for two weeks for free and no one noticed, or maybe they didn’t care.
“Stop pretending to work” — Tayo, 29
My previous workplace was quite toxic and competitive. Even if you managed to finish your tasks early, you still had to make a show of being busy by announcing what you were doing so you wouldn’t look unproductive or be told you aren’t “thinking outside the box” to look for more things to solve. I used to form busy a lot by being all over Slack.
But when they laid me off and gave me a two-week heads-up, I just stopped faking it. I did my tasks quietly within a few hours and slept for the rest of the workday. No more announcing on Slack or volunteering to do things outside my duties. I was laid off with a few other people, and those two weeks were the quietest our Slack channel ever was. Work still went on fine. I guess we all just threw busy body-ism out of the window because we knew there was no point again.
“Tell your employers your mind” — Kay, 31
When I turned in my resignation, my boss scheduled an exit interview, and I used the opportunity to tell them my mind about everything I thought they weren’t doing well. It’s not like I was fighting with them. I just finally had the freedom to talk, knowing they couldn’t use it against me or become passive-aggressive. Plus, it was up to them to take my feedback or not. It no longer affected me.
“Remove personal items” — Mariam, 22
Don’t be like me who forgot to sign out of WhatsApp on my company laptop only to find out weeks later that my account was still linked there. I cringe every time I remember how much I shit-talked my boss on a group chat with my friends or even my personal chats with my boyfriend. Jesus.
“Show them what they’ll miss” — Detola, 28
Anytime I resign from a place, I make sure to do my best work during the notice period. Most of it is due to excitement that my days there are numbered. A part of it is also to show them what they’ll miss. Like a corporate version of “You’ll never find another woman like me”. It’s petty, I know, but I absolutely love it.
“Look for another job” — Ben*, 25
I was once laid off with a one-month notice, and I used the entire period to job hunt. I’d literally be in a team meeting with my phone, and on a job interview with my laptop. I was still working o, but my priority was securing my future. I also took many sick days to prepare for interviews. The game is the game. If you like, feel guilty. Everybody will move on.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
What’s your earliest memory of money?
There was a time when my mum would throw money on the floor to keep me busy, and I’d pick them up and arrange them. I was a toddler, so I don’t remember much. The first money memory that stuck happened when I was 13 years old.
What happened?
My mum gave me ₦200k cash to deposit at the bank, and the bank staff took me to an inner room to sort out the transaction. They even asked if I wasn’t too young to handle that kind of money.
I was just about to ask that, too
It was normal for me. My parents started sending me on similar errands early. With my mum‘s egg depot business and my dad’s lecturing job, they had very little time and these errands fell to me as the firstborn.
What was the financial situation like growing up?
Money wasn’t a problem. By that, I mean, my siblings and I went to good schools — not like we were travelling abroad for vacation every year.
Haha. Do you remember the first time you made money?
I sold recharge cards in JSS 1 because I wanted to make my own money. My mum gave me the ₦3k capital, and I sold them at her shop after school. But I didn’t realise I wasn’t supposed to eat both the revenue and profit. So after selling off the first set of cards and using the money to buy snacks, there was nothing left to buy more cards. The business lasted two weeks.
The next thing I tried to sell was zobo in JSS 2; I’d use ₦1k to make 30 bottles of zobo and sell each bottle for ₦50. My customers were on my street and I used all my profit to buy Lemon Plus sweets, Nutri-C and Noreos biscuits.
How long did this business last?
I can’t remember now. I think I just got tired after I made enough money. That’s one thing about me: I start businesses on a whim when I’m broke and stop following through when my finances are better. I had a few other zobo-selling stints across the six years I spent in secondary school. My mum is a businesswoman, so she was happy to provide the capital whenever I wanted to start again.
I got admitted into the university in 2018 and stopped thinking about business for a while because I had a ₦50k /allowance. Unfortunately, my allowance progressively reduced by at least ₦5k every new semester in school.
Why did it reduce?
Buhari happened and my parents’ finances took a hit. I began looking for ways to make extra money again. In 200 level, I took a receptionist job at an import/export firm during a three-month school break. I also did some proposal writing and co-anchored radio programs on behalf of the firm.
My employer was supposed to pay me ₦10k/month, but I thought it was too small. We eventually agreed on ₦50k spread out over a couple of months. He completed the payments in 10 months after I left the job to resume school.
Did you try to make extra money in school?
COVID and ASUU struck, and I had to return home for most of my 400 level. My bank account had ₦10k in it when I returned home, but it didn’t take long to hit zero. One day, I wanted to buy a bottle of coca-cola, and I didn’t have ₦70 to buy one. It felt like I had hit rock bottom. How come I didn’t have ₦70?
On the same day, my dad returned home with a 5-litre keg of liquid soap. I liked how it smelled and asked him where he got it; I was already thinking about how to make it too. I got the person’s number — she was a church member — from his phone and she graciously offered to teach me at home. That was how I started a business making soap.
How did that work?
I spent ₦2,500 on chemicals to make 25 litres of soap. That quantity gave me about 13 kegs of soap, which I then sold to my neighbours at ₦1k each. I usually made a profit of almost ₦13k on each 25-litre batch.
The batches sold quickly because of how intentional I was with distribution. I’d take my kegs to every door in our quarters, introduce myself and talk about my product. I was quite persistent. Once someone bought from me, they became repeat customers because the soap was good quality. By August 2020, I’d saved about ₦65k.
Nice
Around that time, I stumbled on essential oils at the shops where I bought chemicals for my soap. They were quite popular — people began talking about tea tree oil to treat pimples — and I assumed they were expensive. Imagine my surprise when I found out you could buy a small bottle between ₦500 and ₦800. Just like that, I saw another business opportunity.
Haha
I have a reasonably good following on Twitter, so I took my business online. I started creating content and advertising my products. The business took off. I’d buy the oil for ₦550 and resell it for ₦1,500 or ₦2k.
However, the liquid soap sales had begun to slow down. My customers could only buy a new bottle after running out of the old one, and I noticed I had more and more bottles of liquid soap tying down my money. I abandoned it when I resumed school in 2021.
Oh, wait. I did something else before school resumed.
What was that?
My dad connected me to an edtech company that produced past questions for JAMB, WAEC and other examinations. My job was to type the questions into their application, and the payment was based on how much I worked. I think it was ₦50 per question I input into the application. The faster you type, the more you make. I got paid ₦35k after the first project, then another paid me ₦50k. The last one I did before returning to school paid me ₦20k.
By this time, I’d also abandoned the essential oils business. It wasn’t moving again. If I’m being honest though, I stopped putting in as much effort because I was getting money elsewhere.
So you resumed school as a rich kid
Somewhat. I had ₦150k saved up, but I bought a new Samsung phone for ₦86,500.
I still had some money, so I wasn’t in a hurry to make more. I also had access to my dad’s friends and occasionally called them for money, using my project as a reason. My dad already gave me ₦90k for my project, but I still needed money for other school things.
After I graduated in 2021, I returned to the edtech company to see if they had anything for me while I waited for NYSC. It took a while because it wasn’t JAMB season and it was a downtime for the business, but I finally got an admin/receptionist role at their office. The salary was ₦60k/month.
I was going to work there for three months before NYSC, but I was there for a year. I had clearance issues at school and ASUU went on strike before they fixed it.
Did this bother you?
I wasn’t bothered about the delay because I was making money. For example, in April 2022, I got a lump bonus payment of ₦150k plus my salary.
I finally left after I got my NYSC call-up a few months later. My PPA was at a tech company and I was paid ₦50k/month. My role was project management associate, but I did everything there — from project management to graphic design.
With NYSC’s ₦33k allowance, my monthly income came to ₦83k. I saved about ₦22k of that monthly.
What were your expenses like?
Mostly transportation and personal needs. I didn’t pay rent because I lived with a friend. At one point though, I was almost homeless when my friend moved houses. But luckily, my aunt lived in the same city, so I moved in with her. She left the city shortly after and left me alone in her three-bedroom apartment.
The city I served in was quite expensive, though. Between trying to save money and transportation costs, I got broke again.
Time for another business?
Yep. But I wasn’t motivated until my birthday in 2023. I got an influx of money, and I thought, “Omo. Having money is nice o”. I didn’t want to go back to living hand-to-mouth.
So, I felt it was time to start selling zobo again. I’d been taking a bottle to work to curb my coca-cola addiction and my colleagues always complimented the drinks. I discussed my idea with some bosses at work — who were like mentors — and they helped me do a cost analysis. I bought bottles, branded them and made 50 bottles of zobo, fruit juice and tigernut drink. Everything cost me about ₦10k to produce.
Just ₦10k?
I even had ₦700 change left. I bought one mudu (bowl) of zobo for ₦500, five pineapples at ₦300 each and two watermelons for about ₦1k. The 50 bottles cost ₦3k. I can’t remember how much I printed the stickers for branding, but I didn’t spend more than ₦10k for everything.
I sold each zobo bottle for ₦500, and the other drinks for ₦700. The first batch finished in two days, and I made a profit of ₦30k. Subsequently, I was making about ₦60k in profits weekly. I also took the drinks to my CDS meetings, so that increased my customer base.
After a while, I started selling at trade fairs too. My colleague introduced me to the first one I sold at. I paid ₦30k for the stall and made about ₦77k in total. My profit was only about ₦25k, but it was a good start. The second time I sold at a fair, I sold all 150 bottles I went with — easy ₦150k. I was so excited.
Love it for you
My next plan was to buy a heavy-duty blender or a freezer for the business. My aunt’s house had a fridge, but it could only take 50 bottles at once. But in June, I stumbled on a post that promised to give ₦250k to a struggling business owner. I just had to comment and make sure I got the highest number of likes. Ah. I sent that post to everybody.
I gave up after I got 450 likes because others were getting up to 2000 likes. However, I found out that they were buying likes after the organisers reached out to me to tell me I had the highest organic likes. It was so unexpected.
That wasn’t all. Someone on Twitter had seen my post asking for likes, so they DM’ed me and said God told them to send me money. They also sent me ₦250k.
Mad
I screamed so much that day. I took ₦26k to register my business with the CAC. I called my aunt and told her I’d won some money and wanted to buy a freezer in the house. Remember I said I was staying alone in her apartment, right? Well, she told me to hold on because she wasn’t sure when she’d return to the city.
Apparently, the rent had expired and her husband had been paying it just because I was there. She didn’t want me to buy the freezer and then get stranded if it turned out that I had to move out.
Did you?
Not immediately, but this was the beginning of my business’ problems. I was getting a lot of drink orders, but I couldn’t store them.
In October 2023, my aunt and her family returned to the city. A cockroach infestation happened around the same time, and I had to move production to the boys’ quarters. It was a smaller space and it meant my production was reduced drastically.
Plus, they’d also started using the fridge so I had almost nowhere to store the drinks. I was down to making 30 bottles weekly and about ₦17k in profits.
Did you have another income source?
I’d finished NYSC earlier and was retained at the tech company. My salary was increased to ₦140k, so at least, I had a 9-5 to fall back on.
However, I became tired of the job in January 2024. I felt I should be doing better. So, I started sending out applications. It felt like I was sending my CV out into the air because I didn’t get any word back for a long time. The one time I got an invitation for a bank’s assessment, I didn’t see the email until the date had passed.
Ouch. Sorry about that
It was a beacon of hope — at least someone saw my CV. I got another bank’s assessment and passed the first stage. To celebrate, I walked into a mall to buy myself some snacks. That’s when I noticed a flower store. It was close to Valentine’s Day, and it was the period when Nigerian Twitter was dragging someone for selling a bouquet for ₦350k.
I asked the store assistants how much a mini stem of rose cost, and they said it was ₦1,100. I saw another business opportunity there. I put a flyer together and told people around me I was selling flowers. My cheapest bouquet was ₦25k — which originally cost me ₦11,500 to assemble. I got 12 orders for Valentine’s Day.
The amazing thing was that I didn’t even need capital. Once my clients paid, I just had to go to the mall on Valentine’s Day and assemble the flowers there. I was just the middle-man. Although the price of the stem had increased to ₦2k, I still made ₦150k in profit.
Sweet
I also took flower orders for Mother’s Day in March. I think I made about ₦70k from three orders. Then there was one time my boss at work bought a ₦250k bouquet. I made about ₦145k profit from that sale alone. It’s a seasonal business, but there’s a lot of profit there.
How’s the drink business going these days?
Quite slowly. There are weeks I don’t make them at all. But it’s a situation where I know I can make the drinks if I’m ever broke and need to make quick money. That’s the point I am at right now. I might not have money in my account at some point, but I have the skills to make sure I’m not entirely broke.
So, right now, you have two businesses and a 9-5?
One, actually. I’ve paused the drinks business because I recently landed a bank job. I should be going to training school in a few weeks. I heard I’d be paid ₦75k/month for the three-month training, then about ₦285k after confirmation. I’m still actively pursuing other offers, though.
The flower business is off-season right now, but I get approximately ₦50k/month from it. I have about ₦800k saved up just for savings’ sake — I like knowing I have money somewhere.
Let’s talk about your monthly expenses
How would you describe your relationship with money?
I think I chased money a lot before, which is the reason I tried so many things. But I think I’m comfortable in my own skin now. I don’t have to pursue money. When I need it, I can always do something or offer a service that’ll bring it my way.
Is there anything you want right now but can’t afford?
I’d like to go to Lebanon on vacation — I like that it snows there. But I don’t want to wipe out all my savings on one trip. It costs about ₦2m to go on vacation there. I may just start small and visit Benin Republic first. Last I checked, ₦500k – ₦600k can take me there.
Is there an ideal amount you think you should be earning?
I’d like to earn ₦500k/month from a 9-5. I’m not counting business money because I think it should support my primary earnings. I don’t want to feel like I have to run businesses before I earn well. It should just be because I want to do it. Not because I want to supplement my income.
Is there anything you wish you could be better at financially?
Yes. Investments. The only thing I do right now is save in savings apps. But I feel I should be doing better.
I also have this bad habit of depriving myself of things for a while. Then I break and spend so much money at once.
A recent example happened when I was interviewing for jobs. One interview was in a different state, and I decided to use the opportunity to visit my parents. It was a long series of trips and I went by road to save money. But when I had to return, I was tired and just spent ₦105k on a flight back. My plan to save money just scattered like that.
How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?
5. I’m comfortable now, but I feel in my bones that I’m going to be a rich person. I still have a lot to do to get there.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
What’s your earliest memory of money?
I hawked okpa from morning till noon. When I got home, the money in my money bag was ₦100. All the okpa I sold that day should’ve been like ₦500. Maale — my mother — beat me that day, ehn. I was around 9 years old at that time. I already had small sense. I don’t know how I miscalculated the money.
Why did you hawk okpa, though?
Na hustle o. My father died when I was four years old and maale was the only one providing for me and my younger brother.
On that day, my school sent me home because I owed school fees, and I went to maale’s okpa stand to cry and complain. I don’t even know why I was crying. I didn’t like school like that. Maybe I had plans with my friends that day.
Maale vexed and packed okpa on a tray and put it on my head. She said I should also go and see what it’s like to make money. I sold everything at a nearby motor park, but those wicked people cheated me. After that, maale didn’t allow me to sell her okpa again.
I still helped with her other hustles, though. She also washed clothes for people and cooked sometimes. So, after school, I’d help her fetch water, rinse clothes and even go to the market.
What other things did you do to make money?
In JSS 3, I started pounding fufu with some other guys at a restaurant every morning before school. This was 2014. I’d start work around 7 a.m. and then rush off to school. Highest, one hour and I was done with the fufu. The restaurant owner used to pay me ₦200 every day I worked.
When I first started, I used to pound the fufu with my uniform so I could just rush to school. But I tried to talk to a girl I liked in school one day and she started squeezing her nose like I was smelling. I went to the back of the class and smelled my armpit. Omo, I was smelling like one-week-old fufu. Nobody taught me before I started wearing a singlet to pound the fufu before changing into my uniform.
Haha. What were you spending the money you made on?
Mostly school. Maale stopped giving me transport and food money because I was working, so I was providing for myself. I also bought food and clothes for my brother sometimes. Other times, maale would ask me to drop money for us to eat at night. The money was just going like that.
When I entered SS 1, I started helping the restaurant owner to transport drinks from their supplier twice a week. She had a big wheelbarrow I used to move the drinks, and she paid me ₦1k per week. That one only lasted for two months before I got into an accident and broke her drinks.
What happened?
The wheelbarrow and the load in it were too big for me; I was 14 years old. One aboki used to help the restaurant owner push the wheelbarrow, but they fought and he left. When I heard she was looking for someone else, I made mouth that I could do it.
But I lost control of the wheelbarrow while trying to avoid water on the road. Wahala. I didn’t even go back to the restaurant because she’d have asked me to pay. I think she later settled with maale.
What did you do next?
I started hanging around with the area boys at the motor park. I’d befriended one during my days at the restaurant and he sometimes dashed me ₦500. He used to help the transport buses load passengers, and I thought he was a big boy. Only big boys can be dashing people money like that.
I’d go to the park during the weekends and help to load passengers, too. You know all those boys who stand some distance from the bus to ask people walking around with bags where they’re going? That’s what I was doing. I was mostly helping my friend, so he used to share his money with me. Sometimes, I’d make like ₦2k daily.
When I finished secondary school in 2017, I started going to the park every day. Maale didn’t like it. She said I was becoming rough like the other boys. But if I didn’t act rough, the other boys would drag my passengers.
How much were you making this time?
Between ₦4k – ₦5k daily, depending on how hard I hustled for passengers. There were many boys in the park, so the drivers just dropped money after their bus filled up, and we’d all share it.
But that job no easy o. You have to stand for hours and shout up and down. You also have to fight a lot with everybody: The drivers when they don’t want to pay after loading, the other boys who try to drag your passengers, and even the passengers sef.
One time, one lady slapped me because I tried to drag her bag to the bus I was loading. It’s not her fault sha. Na condition make crayfish bend.
How long did you work at the park?
I worked there till 2019. By then, I was already thinking if that was what I wanted to use my life to do. My brother was already in the polytechnic. My head doesn’t carry book like that, so I didn’t want to go to school. But I couldn’t be loading passengers forever.
Thankfully, I knew a mechanic who trained people, so I went to him and he said I should bring ₦80k to learn for a year. He told me this in 2018, so I started saving money for it. By 2019, I had the money but it got stolen in the same week I wanted to pay the mechanic.
Damn. How did that happen?
It was my fault. I saved the money in a kolo, but I didn’t hide the kolo at home because I didn’t want maale to know I had money, so she wouldn’t ask me to borrow her. I hid the kolo in my friend’s room because I usually slept there sometimes. He must’ve found it because the kolo disappeared.
He denied it, but there was no one else who could’ve taken it. I couldn’t fight him because he moved with cultists and I didn’t want wahala.
Sorry about that. What did you do next?
I just stopped going to the park. My mind was out of there because I thought I’d soon learn mechanic work.
After staying home for two months, maale suggested I should learn a trade under someone instead. At least that way, I wouldn’t have to pay money to learn, and my oga would settle me after I finished learning.
So, in 2020, I moved to Lagos to serve my oga who sells imported furniture. Maale had discussed it with him, I think he’s a relative of one of her friends. I’ve been learning the trade since then.
What’s the arrangement like?
We arranged that I’d serve him as an apprentice for seven years and then he’d settle me with ₦5m and a shop, so I can start my own business.
It’s not in every case that your oga tells you how much he’ll settle you with, though. Some just settle you based on how you work. But I think that happens to people who become apprentices as small boys. I was already 19 years old, so I wasn’t a small boy.
I’ve done almost four years out of the seven. But honestly, I don’t know if I want to stay till the end.
Why not?
I’m not sure my oga will keep to our agreement. In the time I’ve been here, he’s settled only one person after the apprentice reported to his family in the village. The guy had served for almost 13 years, and my oga didn’t show any sign of releasing him. He eventually settled him with ₦3m. When he rents a shop, how much will remain?
I currently serve with four other apprentices, and two of them have been here longer than the initially agreed period. According to them, oga is blaming the economy as the reason why he hasn’t settled them.
It’s not just the economy; the man is stingy on his own. He doesn’t pay any of us a salary. Yes, that’s normal in this system, but he barely feeds us, too. We’re only sure of breakfast because we live in his house. The apprentices get home late at night because we have to close the warehouse, and by then, every other person has eaten dinner. Sometimes you see food, sometimes you don’t see anything.
But how do you survive without a salary?
The other apprentices and I usually “pad” the price of items in the shop to make a profit. For example, my oga can say we should sell a centre table for ₦500k, and we add ₦20k to it and share the gain among ourselves. Sometimes I can make ₦50k/month, depending on how well the market moves.
Oga doesn’t really care how much you sell the furniture as long as his money is complete. We don’t do that when he’s in the warehouse sha. But he’s been around a lot lately, and I’ve not really been making money. Now I struggle to get ₦20k in a month.
Do you know why your oga is around more now?
Market has been really bad since Tinubu became president, especially with how the dollar has been going up and down. Before, my oga regularly travelled to China and Turkey for goods, but in 2023, he only travelled twice. People don’t have money to buy imported furniture again. I think my oga even wants to branch into local furniture.
Another reason why I want to leave is I don’t even think I’m learning anything. My oga keeps details of how he imports the goods to himself. I somehow understand him sha. I heard that one of his former apprentices stole some of his China contacts and customers and went on to start his own business. But how come I’ve been here for four years and I only know how to check for high-quality pieces and price them?
Do you have any plans for if you eventually leave?
I’ll probably drive keke for some years to gather money. I know many keke drivers and some of them make up to ₦30k a day. When I’m ready, I can contact any of them to link me up with someone who wants to give out their keke on hire purchase. That’s when someone buys a keke and gives it to a driver to use. Then the driver pays the keke owner every week till they pay the full price (and interest) for the keke.
After I’ve saved enough money, I can think of starting a business — maybe a tyre business or electronics. I hear there’s money there. I just need something that’ll give me money. My brother doesn’t have a stable job even though he has graduated since. I usually send money home to him and maale, but it doesn’t even reach anywhere. I need to make money so maale will rest small.
How do you break down your expenses in a typical month?
I try to save at least ₦5k monthly in case they call me for emergency at home. I have a bank account now, sha. I can’t save in kolo again. Right now, my savings is around ₦70k.
What’s a recent emergency need you had to settle?
One part of the roof of our house in the village collapsed around April. The roof wasn’t too okay before, but it finally scattered after one small rain. I had to send ₦50k home so they could patch it small.
How would you describe your relationship with money?
Ah. That one is still far. I need to make the money before we start to know each other. But with the plans I have, I feel like I’ll touch money soon.
I’m also trying not to compare myself to other young people who are making it. I’m in a hurry to make money, but I’m also trying not to rush too much before I’m tempted to do foolish things.
What’s something you wish you could be better at financially?
Taking risks. One of my friends recently bet ₦1k on a betting platform and won like ₦100k. I’m too afraid of losing my money to try that type of thing.
How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1 – 10?
2. My journey is still far but I thank God for life.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
