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Nobody should get carried away by Don Jazzy’s chronically-online, playful social media influencer personality. That’s all recent development.
This isn’t an attempt at inducing nostalgia. But when Don Baba J returned to Nigeria from London two decades ago, it was the beginning of a journey to becoming one of Nigerian contemporary pop’s greatest contributors, and he changed the soundscape forever.
Don Jazzy seems to have taken a break from actively producing music, but not before making multiple impacts on Nigerian pop music. These eight songs Jazzy produced across music eras prove this.
Tongolo – D’Banj
At a time Don Jazzy and his previous business associate and artist D’Banj were still testing Naija music waters, the latter’s debut album came out with Tongolo as its lead and biggest single. Not only did this song introduce D’Banj’s arrival to Nigerian listeners, it birthed his “Koko Master” persona.
Ijoya – Weird MC
Two years after stepping into the motherland, Don Jazzy produced Weird MC’s Ijoya alongside JJC. This song was Weird MC’s reintroduction to the Nigerian audience in 2006. Till date, Ijoya remains the biggest single from a Nigerian female rapper.
Why Me — D’Banj
Why Me transformed D’Banj from potential entertainer into a national hitmaker. Don Jazzy’s production did that.
Jebele — Kween
Kween had lovers in chokehold with this 2007 jam. Its music video won the Soundcity Music Video Award for Best Female Video and Best Highlife Music Video at the Nigerian Music Video Awards in 2008.
“Mushin 2 Mo’ Hits”
In 2009, Wande Coal released his debut “Mushin 2 Mo’ Hits”, creating a template for how a Nigerian pop album is made. This album has popular hits like Move Your Body, Bumper2Bumper, You Bad, Taboo, Private Trips, Ten Ten, etc. Wande Coal did his thing on this album, but we have Don Jazzy to praise for its stellar production work.
Wind Am Well – Ikechukwu
This song is one of the singles that secured Ikechukwu’s spot in the mainstream. Guess who produced it? It’s Don Jazzy again.
Oliver Twist – D’Banj
Before Don Jazzy and D’Banj parted ways in 2012, they made their last collaboration titled Oliver Twist count. This song climbed charts and did wonders for Afrobeats appeal, even pushing its potential into global space.
Godwin – Korede Bello
It took Godwin three days post-release to become an anthem among Nigerians in 2015. Due to Korede’s resonating lyrics and Jazzy’s production, Godwin is a party jam to some listeners and a testimony song to others.
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?
Five-year-old me thought money used to multiply. Some context: When I was in kindergarten, I noticed people would walk up to my class teacher with one ₦50 note, and she’d give them two sachets of water and two ₦20 notes as change. In my head, I concluded one single money could give you “two money.”
LOL. Didn’t we all?
I decided to multiply my own money too. So, I took ₦50 from my mum’s purse and used it to buy water from my teacher. When she gave me the “two money”, I proudly took it home to show my mum. She was like, “So, you’ve started stealing at this age?” Good times.
Now that you mention your parents, what did they do for money?
My dad is a lecturer, and my mum has a small business.
Before secondary school, I thought we had money. Maybe it’s because I didn’t pay attention to the finances, and I had mostly all I needed. But I was definitely shocked when I started asking for money in secondary school, and my parents would always respond with, “There’s no money.”
That’s when I started realising the small things like how we never had a family outing. Even on the odd occasion when my mum bought outside food, she’d buy just two plates, and the five of us would have to manage it.
What did this realisation change?
It led to my “I need to make money” phase at 15 years old. I was in SS 3 in boarding school when I started painting my schoolmates’ nails, charging between ₦50 and ₦100. It was illegal, but I’d walk around the hostel with my nail file and nail polish, announcing, “Do your nails!” It was my trademark.
I used to make an average of ₦300 daily and lived large. I spent all my money at the tuck shop.
Did you continue after secondary school?
I wanted to, but my dad thought starting a side business would affect my studies. So, I dropped it.
I started uni in January 2020, but had to return home after a couple of weeks due to a combination of the COVID pandemic and an ASUU strike. In June, I decided to learn a skill, so I picked make-up. My mum paid ₦200k for the three-month training and the make-up box I needed. But I only practised on a few people before abandoning it.
Why?
I felt I couldn’t make people look pretty. Luckily, school resumed in 2021, and I went back to focusing on my studies.
Did you try any other thing for money?
I went to classes from home (I still do), and my dad wanted me to focus, so I couldn’t do any business.
I don’t have an allowance because he gives me transport money to school every day. The man doesn’t even know I have a bank account.
But I was on social media a lot. In 2022, I decided to give content creation a try. I thought it might be fun, and I’d also heard that creators make a lot of money.
How did that go?
I wanted to create content relatable to people like me who weren’t rich kids, so I challenged myself to live on ₦1k daily and share my results. People definitely found it relatable because my accounts grew quite quickly, and I started making money from it in 2023.
How do you make money as a content creator?
Mainly through influencing gigs. Brands reach out for custom content, and others send free gifts so I can talk about them on my channels. My first client reached out to me in January and paid ₦20k for three videos. I was ecstatic. I’d initially charged ₦25k, but I didn’t even mind. It was the motivation I needed to take creating content seriously.
The only downside is, the money is not constant, and brands sometimes owe me too. There was this brand I worked with for three months. In that time, I made 16 videos for them, and my total pay was ₦300k. They paid 40% before the campaign started, and were supposed to pay a percentage every month. But they paid another 20% in the third month, and 40% months after the campaign ended. I’ve worked with them a couple of times, and they always pay late.
Is this your regular experience with brands?
Thankfully, it’s not regular. I guess I’ve been pretty lucky. The wildest influencing gig I’ve ever gotten was from someone who paid me ₦100k just to play their song in the background of one of my videos. It was easy money.
What’s your monthly income from influencing like?
On average, ₦50k per month. Some months are better than others, though. The ₦100k gig was just last month.
What about your expenses?
Pretty moderate. I still try to live on ₦1k daily because of my content, but the way the economy is going these days means I often overshoot my budget. But I still live at home, so food and transportation to school are taken care of.
But I should confess. This moderate lifestyle is just a few months old. When I first started making money online in January, I went on a spending spree for months.
What were you spending on?
Everything I was interested in at the moment. You know how you start getting strange ideas when you have money you don’t need? That was how it was for me.
First, I decided I wanted to get into those coffee girl aesthetics. So I bought an icemaker for ₦90k and a coffee maker for ₦25k. I’ve not used them for even one day; the icemaker is still inside the carton.
Another time, I became obsessed with BookTok — the readers section of TikTok — and thought reading books would help me escape the reality of living at home. I started with fantasy and dystopian books. When I grew tired of those because the plots started to look the same, I moved to deeper self-help books. I quickly got tired of reading those as well, but I just kept buying them, telling myself I’d read them one day.
The last bulk purchase I made was in June — I bought nine books which cost almost ₦100k, plus delivery. From January to June, I spent ₦400k on over 60 books. Most of them are unread and are just sitting on my shelf. I console myself with the fact that I can still sell them someday.
Now, I’ve moved past all that and just save my money.
Do you have a savings goal?
I’m saving to get my own place. My family home is nice, but it gets tiring. Since July, I’ve tried to save 80% of every amount I get from influencing. It’s currently around ₦300k. But I’m still debating whether to stick it out till I graduate and invest my savings in a piece of land instead, so I can resell it for a profit later.
The remaining 20% of my income is the vex money I use for the odd outing, or when I need data to create content.
Can you break down your typical expenses in a month?
Data – ₦15,000
Eating out – ₦30,000
Miscellaneous – ₦10,000
I don’t spend a lot, even when creating content. I just use my phone and a tiny influencer light I bought for ₦10k on AliExpress.
Do you plan to continue creating content after uni?
Yes. It’s my backup career plan. There’s money in content creation o. I know people who don’t have a degree but make millions from it.
Plus, I did a two-month unpaid internship as part of school requirements in April, and I realised there’s no money in the course I’m studying at school. But I’m still studying hard to graduate with good grades so I can have both my degree and content creation. Then, I can stick to whatever pays more.
How would you describe your relationship with money?
I feel like I’ve been playing since, but I’m now focused on making my money work for me. I save better, and I’m deliberate about spending and managing my money. I’m active on social media, and I’m familiar with the urge to live a fake life, but I make do with what I have.
You guys recently did a video where you asked people how long it’d take them to spend ₦500k. It’d probably take me two years with how deliberate I am now.
My mindset now is, I need to make money for my future, and no one will make it for me.
How much money qualifies as “good money” to you?
I honestly can’t pick a specific figure. More money will come with more responsibilities, so I don’t think there’s a point where I’ll be satisfied. It’s always on to the next thing.
Is there anything you want right now but can’t afford?
Definitely land. It’s part of my savings goals, but I want to get land in an already developed area to get better returns on investment. I’d need ₦3m – ₦4m for that.
On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your financial happiness?
10. I’m not spending my money on nonsense anymore. I know where I am now, and where I want to get to. I’ve also learned to limit impulse decisions and not do more than myself.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
Navigating life as a woman in the world today is interesting. From Nigeria to Timbuktu, it’ll amaze you how similar all our experiences are. Every Wednesday, women the world over will share their experiences on everything from sex to politics right here.
My love for fashion and pop culture. I looked up to American celebrities as a child. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be a star, but I never knew how to go about it. Unfortunately, neither did anyone else around me — not my family or friends. None of us had any knowledge of the Nigerian entertainment industry or what one had to do to get into it.
I only heard a bit about how people were doing it around 2015 when companies like Mavin and EbonyLife became really active. And at first, I wasn’t sure if I should go into music or movies. I also didn’t believe well enough in my talents in those lines.
How did influencing come in?
2017 came, and I became more aware of people who were getting a lot of recognition on Instagram for basically being stylish and pretty. I was those two things, so it just clicked that I should try that. But I didn’t really do anything about it until two years later when I graduated from secondary school. I wanted to get the perfect phone, makeup and hair first, and my parents promised me everything only after I finished school with a good result.
In the meantime, I’d planned out all the content I wanted to make. I had a little lookbook with a plan for the aesthetic I’ll go for. I had everything creative down, but did I plan how I’d promote or make money? Nope.
I started creating content on IG as soon as I got into uni in September 2018. I’d do my own makeup, copying stuff I saw on Pinterest, then take cute selfies and post with captions I took days to come up with. Alongside “Outfit of the Day” posts, I posted every other day.
Fame, here you come?
I was getting like 30 likes and two comments for months until I got frustrated. “What were other people doing?” was the question that kept me up at night my entire 100 level.
I started stalking other known influencers at the time, and I noticed they didn’t just take pictures, they went out, attended events and had a network. They all seemed to know each other and had their different circles. So I became obsessed with attending events they attended and meeting the micro-influencers at least.
Were you able to?
I had two major obstacles: most of the events were in Lagos, and my school was in Cotonou. Second: actually getting invites or paying for tickets.
Getting invited as an unknown was practically impossible, so I started saving up most of my allowance to buy at least one event ticket every weekend — parties, festivals, product launches — and I’d register for free tickets where available. I’d skip school from Thursday to travel to Lagos till Sunday, and squat with one of my friends who was in Unilag.
The goal was to get there, meet people and take lots of good-quality photos. So I also had to spend on new outfits every time and do my makeup and hair well. I’d starve all week just to be able to afford it all. But at least, that helped me maintain my figure. Plus, all the travelling back and forth and walking up and down at the events was perfect exercise.
God, abeg
I did that my whole 200 level — the 2020 pandemic was another setback, though — and took really good pictures that got much better engagement online, especially when I tagged and interacted with organisers and some famous or semi-famous guests. But nothing impressive happened. I was getting noticed but not as someone important enough to get PR boxes, which I later found out micro-influencers were getting lots of. Also, there was so much gatekeeping.
These other influencers would recognise me offline, laugh and gist for some minutes, even dance with me. Then online they’d ghost. Others would talk to me online but shut down once I start asking how they’re doing it. I get it; I’m not entitled to their trade secrets. But a little help wouldn’t have hurt. I had to take matters into my own hands.
I’m scared. What did you do, please?
Aggressive digging. I searched for influencers I admired and scrolled all the way down to their first couple of posts — most of them don’t delete these — to get some hints on how they started.
There was a particular girl I really liked, maybe because she graduated from my uni. One of her earlier posts was a photo of her with a green sash that showed she’d come second in a pageant. I searched the pageant and saw it was IG-based and a few other successful micro-influencers had participated in it.
Without thinking twice, I paid the sign-up fee for the 2021 edition. The experience was my first taste of financial exploitation and online bullying.
If you’d like to be my next subject on #WhatSheSaid, click here to tell me why
I’m so sorry. Please explain
First of all, the organiser, a woman, was quite mean. And the participants, both past and present, had to be submissive to her like she was our master, all while she outwardly preached feminism and women empowerment.
Also, she boasted that she helped young women feel confident in whatever body type. Meanwhile, in the background, she constantly emotionally abused us and made us feel stupid. Then there was the part where she’d boast that she’d made many influencers when all she did was run a popularity contest after which she’d use the winners to promote her pageant brand and get huge brand deals. The only thing the winners gain is the small cash prize, a tiara and some subpar lifestyle products.
But I also suffered from my own ambition. To win or place second to eighth, each contestant needs to get people to follow the pageant’s IG page then like their photo on the page. By the time I’d gotten my family, friends and most of my miserly 3k followers to do this, I hadn’t even scratched the surface of the kind of engagement some other participants were getting.
Tears. What happened in the end?
The organiser said we could pay her to boost our post on her page. But she was charging ten times what Meta would charge. I ended up sending her ₦100k for this, but it didn’t make much difference. At least, five girls had 20k likes while I still struggled with 5k.
Then some people started DMing me that they saw I was participating in the pageant and could help me get up to 20k or even 30k likes. I started thinking maybe that’s how the other girls were getting ahead — they had money. So I chose who I thought was the most legit option and paid him ₦50k at first then another ₦100k. All from money I made modeling for fashion and photography brands in school.
He didn’t do anything.
Ah
Not a single like.
Instead, he kept saying he hadn’t received the money. And me too, I’d go back and forth to my bank to complain until I paid him another ₦150k, while the bank “sorted out a reversal”. After one story or the other sha, he still didn’t do anything. My bank came back to report that the first transfer went through, and it suddenly dawned on me that I’d lost ₦300k to a scammer. I was so angry with myself for being so stupid.
On top of that, trolls were on my pageant post calling me ugly in many creative ways. When the voting period ended, of course, I didn’t place any position. My mental health took a dip during that period. I even found out that the organiser slotted a girl in 8th position when she only had about 7k likes — there were people with up to 15k that didn’t place. The same girl became front and centre at all the promotional events.
I sense fraud
Honestly, it was frustrating, after all the money I’d lost.
But the experience made me realise I could cough out such large amounts when needed. Meanwhile, I was scrimping on things like camera and props for my content. I worked more modeling jobs and saved my pay and allowance from my parents for about three months to buy a vlogging camera. At this point, content creation was veering towards videos, so it was a good move.
My 300-level results came in and my scores were demoralising. I lied to my parents that the pandemic and lockdown made everything “confusing”. When they gave me my final year school fees, I took it and rented a self-con in Yaba, near my Unilag friends. I used the remaining to buy hair and makeup and lived on the allowance they were still sending. The good thing about schooling in Cotonou was that they never visited.
So you dropped out? Weren’t you afraid of the risks?
No. I was studying accounting; I wasn’t ever going to be an accountant.
At the start of 2022, someone reached out to me that he’d like to manage me. I had just under 4k followers at this point and was still getting maybe 200 likes on average after Meta ruined IG’s algorithm. So I was basically still paying to attend people’s events and create content for them for free. This is why I jumped at the opportunity to be managed by someone who, hopefully, knew what I didn’t know about the industry.
Please, tell me he was legit
I probably shouldn’t have jumped at the first person who offered me a management deal.
He sent me a whole plan of what he’d do for me, and it all looked so exciting and legit. But I had to pay him either ₦1m or ₦750k in advance, depending on the package. So I spoke with my dad, who’s always been supportive of my creative side — he’s the only reason I had the slightest second thought about dropping out of uni. I told him I needed money for another camera.
He said he’d loan me the ₦750k, but I’d have to pay it back in installments for the next year. It was his way of making sure I didn’t just blow it on trivial things. Before I sent it to my new manager, I made sure I met with him in a public place. We had a meeting, he came with two other people on his team, and they presented the plan to me again. I loved everything I saw, so I sent the money and signed a contract.
Don’t leave us in suspense!
They didn’t lie. I did everything they had planned for me. I got to work with a couple of known and not-so-known brands, created content, got a few PR boxes (finally).
But?
But I didn’t have any control over the content I created, which they posted on the brands’ pages. I got no credit. They never tagged me, so I never got any traffic to my own page. They also paid me peanuts. I’m sure my manager was getting millions, but the highest I ever got on a job was ₦100k.
Unfortunately, I have no proof of exactly what he made off me. And the team was deliberate about keeping their content creators separate from each other. So we won’t hang up against him, I guess.
My contract was for a year, so it ended in February (2023). I used most of the money I made to pay my father back because I couldn’t complain to him, especially since I’ve not even figured out how to tell him, come June, that I dropped out.
You’ve taken many huge risks, but “fortune favours the bold”. Have you figured out your next move yet?
This might sound crazy, but I have more hope than ever that I’ll soon break through in this influencing thing. I’ve learnt a lot, my content creation game is now fire, and I can only fail so many times, right?
Except those motivational speakers and “Take risk and succeed” preachers are all liars.
I like the way today’s Naira Life subject talks about his goals. He’s trying to get to a place where ₦20m is nothing to him.
So following his lead, today’s #HowMuchLast will be an expensive item, and I cannot wait to see how much you’d pay for it.
We have a fun edition today.
In this letter:
Last Month in Money
The Grass to Grace #NairaLife of a Social Media Influencer
Money Meanings: What is a “Budget”?
Game: #HowMuchLast
Where The Money At?!
Last Month
In Money
₦20,510,000,000,000 Yes, that’s what 20 trillion naira looks like written out, and it’s Nigeria’s budget for 2023 as presented by our presido. Why are there so many zeroes and why is it called “Budget of Fiscal Consolidation and Transition”? We tried to look into it.
₦1000 That is now the naira equivalent of one pound sterling. Technically, this didn’t happen last month, but it’s urgent enough for us to bend the rules.
Wetin dey stop nonsense? In the song “Stop Nonsense” Majeeed asks “Wetin dey stop nonsense?” and as we all know, the answer to that question is quite simple… Money.
Let’s face it. Ordinary is boring, but you can go for the extraordinary with a juicy pension plan that rewards your hustle today so you can retire early and still ball hard. Start by moving your pension to Stanbic IBTC Pension Managers today.
#NairaLife: This Social Media Influencer Will Not Rest Until ₦20m is Nothing To Him
The 25-year-old in today’s Naira Life got his first job at 16 because he wanted to help his mother out. It only paid him ₦3k for three days of work.
His father was absent and growing up wasn’t easy, but today he’s a millionaire, and for him, he hasn’t arrived until 20 million naira is chicken change to him.
We can’t say we’re about the money and not actually help you find the money.
So we’ve compiled a list of job opportunities for you. Make sure you share this with anyone who might need it because in this community, we look out for each other.
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.
This week’s subject on #NairaLife is a 25-year-old social media influencer. He talks about growing up poor and how seeing his mum’s efforts pushed him to start earning at 16. Today, he doesn’t need to leave his house to make his millions.
What’s your earliest memory of money?
Hustling for ₦3k at 16. I helped nurses carry polio immunisation kits from house to house. I remember being irritated at how the children ran away and cried because of the injections. I thought, “Oga, just stay and collect this thing. You’re wasting my time.”
How long did you do this?
I did it just once. The ₦3k was for three days of work. The crowd I saw on the day I went to get paid was so much that I couldn’t get my money. I had to come back another day.
When I was told I couldn’t get my money that day, I felt especially terrible I didn’t have a dad. I wouldn’t have to hustle for ₦3k like that if my dad was around. I swore that I’d never be poor in life. The experience was that bad.
Where was your dad?
No idea. He just wasn’t around. I started working at 16 because, as the firstborn, I felt like I had to. It was just my mum, my younger sister and me, and at that point, I was old enough to realise how much my mum was doing for us.
My mum is a trader, but she made sure we wore good clothes, never skipped meals, and were never sent out for school fees. She put us through private primary school, but when it was time for secondary school, she sat us down and told us she couldn’t afford a private secondary school.
What was the switch like?
Omo, first it was embarrassing. All my friends from primary school went to private secondary schools.
I won’t lie; going into secondary school, I believed public school students weren’t as intelligent as private school students. It was a stereotype that flew around in my primary school. I soon realised it was a lie. People are smart everywhere. I’m hardworking today because of how hard I had to compete academically in senior secondary school.
Tell me about it
My set was a bit too serious. The principal had to call an assembly to tell us to loosen up and come out to play sometimes because we were reading too much. We represented the school in competitions, some against private schools, and won. I don’t know what motivated the others, but I knew how hard my mum was working to take care of my sister and me, and I just didn’t want to disappoint her.
As serious as I was though, maths was a problem. I got an F when I wrote GCE in SS 2, and a D when I wrote WAEC in SS 3. I couldn’t get into university with those grades, so it was that year I stayed at home and did menial jobs like the immunisation one.
What other jobs did you do?
I worked at a factory that produced hangers for ₦14k a month. I quit after a few months and got another job at a factory that printed past questions. That one paid ₦19k a month, but it was the most hazardous job ever. I inhaled so much smoke because I worked near a generator. There was a time I fell while carrying a load of heavy papers My boss saw me on the ground and said that if I destroyed the papers, the money would be deducted from my salary. My ₦19k salary!
After another few months there, I left and did WAEC and JAMB lessons. I used my money to pay. By 2015, when I was 18, I entered university to study mass communication.
Was that what you wanted?
Yes. I liked listening to the OAPs on Beat FM, so I thought I could do something in entertainment. In fact, because of how much they talked about Twitter, I opened a Twitter account and started being funny and steadily gaining followers in their hundreds and thousands.
Was it your mum who supported you through university?
For about two years. In 2017, I started making my own money.
What were you doing?
Freelance writing on Fiverr. I had roommates who made money designing for clients on Fiverr, so when my mum got me a laptop, I signed up and offered writing as a service.
How did you learn to write?
I wrote essays all the time in secondary school, so writing didn’t feel like a skill I had to learn.
When I started using Fiverr, I had to use a VPN to make it seem like I wasn’t in Nigeria because, for some reason, it was hard for Nigerians to get jobs. Within 24 hours of opening an account, I got an essay-writing job that paid $5.
In less than two months, I made $100 — the threshold for a first withdrawal. It was about ₦50k when I withdrew it. If you see my mum’s joy when I called her to tell her I made that much from writing online. She even called our pastor and told him.
That year, I made about $500.
Was it just through essay writing?
My brother, when poverty holds you, your creativity will come up. I wrote marketing articles, essays, assignments, and even poems for people’s partners. There was also a lady that paid me just to rant to me.
You were also doing therapist work? God when?
But I wasn’t saving sha. I was spending the money anyhow. Even the next year, when I made almost $4k by levelling up, I didn’t save. I sent my mum some money, but I wasted the rest in school.
How did you level up?
When your account shows that you’ve completed a lot of work and received encouraging comments, you level up on the platform and get jobs easier. At this point, I wasn’t using a VPN account anymore. I’d created another account and patiently waited to get jobs, but it was worth it in the end.
But in my 400 level, I lost my account because the PayPal account linked with it was connected to another Fiverr account.
How?
Nigerian PayPal accounts can’t receive money, so I had to use the services of a guy who had foreign PayPal accounts to receive my payments. He mistakenly used the account he was using for me for another person.
Damn. Did you lose money?
I got the money in the Fiverr account after 90 days of suspension, but I couldn’t get the account back. I’d have to start from scratch again. I was in my final year doing projects, so I decided not to bother. It would be too much work.
Also, I realise, in retrospect, that I did a terrible job at networking. When I google the names and companies I worked with as a freelancer, I scream. If I’d kept those relationships, I wouldn’t have been stranded and broke like I was after that account loss.
It was bad?
I met sapa. I couldn’t ask my mum for money because I’d stopped for a while, so I was just suffering. I even started selling the middle pages of my foolscap notes for ₦20 whenever we had class tests. Right before I graduated, I got my first social media campaign job. A brand reached out because they saw I had engaged followers. The job paid ₦10k. This happened a couple more times in 2019.
After I graduated in 2019, I helped my classmates write CVs for ₦2k per CV. Then on one of those days when I had nothing to do, I had a bright idea. Since I’d already studied mass communication, it’d be smart for me to learn a foreign language too. I went and made inquiries, and the language I wanted to learn cost ₦63k for six weeks.
Did you do it?
I didn’t have the money, so I tweeted about my situation, and a Twitter friend reached out, asked me how much the classes cost, sent the money and asked me to return it whenever I could. I’d never met this person physically.
A few months later, I found out she died. I was heartbroken.
Sorry about that. Did you learn the language?
Yes. But I’ve not used it for anything.
How did you get back on your feet?
In 2020, more brands started reaching out to me to push their products and services. I was getting ₦100k and ₦200k gigs. That’s when I also started getting writing gigs. I started doing CVs, website articles, assignments, and statements of purpose. But I was charging much higher than my freelance days. It was just knowing my worth and not being afraid to charge people.
I also had my only 9-5 in 2020. It was a digital marketing job that I quit after two months.
Why?
My boss told me to shut up over the phone. On top ₦66k salary. Ah.
LMAO
2021 was the beginning of proper financial stability. I was making at least ₦300k a month from writing and influencing, but more from influencing. That’s when I bought an iPhone and MacBook and put my mum on a ₦40k monthly allowance.
Omo mummy
She didn’t care much about the amount I was giving her. As long as I gave her money, she called and prayed for me like I’d just blessed her with millions. At some point, I realised giving her money was an investment in my mental health. The fact that she was happy with me was proof that I was doing something right.
I even did my first investment in 2021.
What kind?
I put ₦1.5m in a friend’s business and got ₦300k every month for four months, then I got my ₦1.5m back.
Mad. How’s 2022 been?
I do the same things I’ve been doing for money, but I make more money because my brand is bigger. I run multiple campaigns concurrently. On an average month this year, I’ve made at least ₦700k, all from the comfort of my apartment. Oh yeah, I finally moved out this year too. I paid ₦500k for rent and have spent about ₦400k buying home appliances.
Do you save now?
Haha, I save almost all my money now.
Break down how much money you spend in a month
How much do you have invested?
I put ₦2m in a crypto company, and they give me ₦100k a month.
And how much do you have in savings?
Maybe about ₦4m.
Can I see your rates?
What’s the hardest part about being an influencer?
The fact that I have to put my life out there. It’s a bit tough. I don’t like it, but I have to do it.
At 25, do you think you’ve done well for yourself?
Yeah. I live alone in my flat. I’ve placed my mum on salary, and I sponsor my sister’s education. I have two people I pay salaries; one who manages one of my accounts (₦50k) and my assistant (₦80k). There are others I pay for writing for me. In my own capacity, I’ve also helped followers who DM with genuine stories. So yeah, I feel like I’m in a good place.
Is there any levelling up to do?
Of course. I want to reach a point where ₦20m is nothing to me. Do I have any specific plans? No. I just know it’ll be through business and maybe getting a high-paying job.
What’s a high-paying job?
₦2m a month.
Is there something you want now but can’t afford?
A house. I don’t need a house, but it’s the only thing I want but can’t afford.
On a scale of 1 to 10, what’s the level of your financial happiness?
I would say 7. Because everything I need now, I can afford. Until I get to the point where ₦20m is nothing, it cannot be a 10.
Public relations is invaluable to businesses and individuals for numerous reasons. Whether you want to get the word out about a new product or attract the right kind of press, high-quality PR can help make that happen.
With many modern influencers and brands looking to elevate their status on social media, it may seem like PR is old-school.
In reality, that could not be further from the truth—if you are chasing that elusive blue tick, PR may be precisely what you need to get your brand and face in front of the right people to make that happen.
PR agencies enable coverage on top news sites
As you go through the verification process, one of the first things social media employees will probably check is your presence outside of the platform.
While that blue tick conveys a certain level of status, the primary intention behind the verification system is to ensure that you are who you say you are—and not someone else pretending to be you.
Coverage on PR news sites provides that additional level of fame outside of your platform of choice, helping social media platforms understand why you are worthy of verification.
PR can help you make your face or brand visible, demonstrating why it is important to award you with verification.
With the right PR, you can ensure that your brand and presence are legitimate and visible beyond the constraints of a specific platform or service. The use of PR gets your name out to a broader audience and makes you more of a household name instead of just another influencer or digital brand. The more PR you generate, the better it is for your credibility.
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With a good PR campaign, getting your brand in front of the right people can mean faster, more effective growth.
A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week.
The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a social media influencer with over 100k followers on social media. They talk to us about remaining anonymous despite their fame, undercharging for their services and the anxiety that comes with the job.
MONDAY:
The first thought on my mind when I wake up today is that if I didn’t have to work to earn a living, I’d probably not be doing my day job. I only show up because of the money.
Left to me, I’d spend my time living out my imaginations. Instead, I have to pretend like I’m normal and resume every day at a 9-5. During the day I’m the team lead at a digital media startup. At night, I’m a wildling on my personal account with over 100k followers on Twitter, [a little] less than 100k on Instagram and a newsletter with almost 10k subscribers.
My day job stresses me because of how professional it is. As someone with a wild imagination, I don’t find it fun. At work, I want to replicate ideas from the playbook of my personal account but every idea is met with “consider the brand image.”
Even on my personal account, when brands reach out, they like what they see but still always decide to play it safe.
Over time, this pushback has made my personal account the only place I can write the things I enjoy. I love the fact that my thoughts have a home and a receptive audience. What I don’t like is that it doesn’t generate enough money to survive and hence the need for a double life.
This afternoon I got a message that triggered me. Someone came to my DM telling me to always run my content by a team so I can know whether it’s good or bad. For someone who spends all day running content by people at my day job, I was like nope. I thought, “my personal account works because it’s 100% out of pocket and unfiltered me.”
Once I start running content by people, it’s no longer me. And if an idea doesn’t work, I’m going to blame myself for running it by another person. However, as a solo creator, I’m free to experiment as I like.
One of my biggest fears is getting to the point where I no longer recognize my work. With that resolve, I replied to the message: “thank you very much for the advice. I’ll look into it.”
TUESDAY:
No one knows what I look like. At least not the bulk of my followers; my day ones have seen my face. Initially, I decided to be anonymous because the more content I put out, the bigger my personal account got. And I was tired of people saying my face didn’t match my writing whenever they landed on my page, so I removed all my photos. However, over time, anonymity became a necessity for me.
At first, I realised I was insecure about my looks so I decided to grow into them without external influence. I didn’t want to post a picture and have people validate my looks. Next, I thought it was cool to be in the shadows on social media where everyone is constantly putting their face or business out there.
The upside? On good days, like today, I have at least 20 people in my DM begging to know what I look like. People pleading and swearing, earnestly, on their parents’ lives that they won’t share my photos. My answer? “No, I’m not sending.” Although, listening to people beg is like doing drugs because of how intoxicating and powerful it feels. It also helps that I’m aware of the power I hold so I tease and draw out people’s curiosity as much as I can. Some days I’ll post a picture of just my hand or my legs. Other days, I’ll post a full photo of me but covered with a smiley or with my face blurred out. It’s so much fun!
The only downside of enjoying anonymity is that I don’t cash out. If someone with my level of influence who shows their face goes out, they’d receive favours I wouldn’t receive, mostly because they’re famous. But no one knows me. Even if I told them I was the person behind my account, they wouldn’t believe it. Therefore, I’d beg for things I ordinarily wouldn’t have to beg for if I showed my face.
However, the peace of mind from being anonymous is sufficient for me. There’s no pressure for me to keep up appearances or put on a show — and I love that for me.
WEDNESDAY:
Today makes it three days since I last posted on my Twitter account. My mental health is shit, my anxiety is at an all-time high and my self-esteem is at the lowest. Yay.
As a creator with a large following, sooner or later the pressure gets to you. You’re always thinking about numbers: how many retweets did this post get, how many likes, how many quotes? Who shared it? Was it reposted on Instagram and WhatsApp statuses? This obsession puts pressure on you to create fun stuff for the audience so you rush your process. Then it doesn’t bang. Now the numbers are bad and you feel like shit because low numbers are bad for your brand’s business. It’s twice as bad because you can see how other creator’s content are banging in real-time. After a while, doubt starts to creep in.
But when your content bangs —my God! You feel unstoppable. God now help you that you’re on a roll. The type where you tweet the most random thing and it bangs. You quote a tweet and you get 4k retweets. Your reply to a tweet gets 2k likes. That kind of constant real-time validation and gratification is a drug you become addicted to.
As someone who has recently come down from that high, the lows are dealing with me. I’m thinking about how my retweets gradually started reducing from 4,000 to 2,000 to 1,000 and then 500 on a good day. I think reality fully hit me when I got to 500. At that point, it was as if I was relocating from Banana Island to Ikorodu and that affected me badly.
It has taken some affirmations to slowly climb out of it. Every day I remind myself that my worth as a human being is not tied to whether or not my tweets bang. Regardless of what happens, I’m still the same person. I’m still that talented person with room for growth.
In the long term, I know this will pull me out of my mental and emotional chokehold. However, short term, my strategy is to keep avoiding my stressors — most especially Twitter.
THURSDAY:
People always ask me if being an influencer is profitable. The answer is both yes and no. If you’re like me that charged two thousand naira for my first advert, you’re already doing it wrong. Mind you, I had 5,000 followers then. When I got to almost 10k followers I increased my rate to ₦10,000 for adverts.
Every time someone paid me I’d promise to deliver the best work of their life. Looking back, I realise that at every follower milestone I’d increase my rates but still did not make bank.
It wasn’t until today that I realised the reason for my weird relationship with money. The pay at the first company I worked for was shitty so I thought I deserved shit. I was being paid around ₦50,000 to make 90 content items in a month. In my head, ₦10,000 per content item promotion was a good deal for me. And this is how I approached my rates as my follower count grew.
With money, I’m just reaching a point where I can charge the least I deserve, especially for someone at my level of influence. It has taken me months of talking with many people to see that I don’t deserve to earn shit.
Later today, I’ll test out my new resolution on a client I’m talking to. I’m going to multiply my current rate by two. If I die, I die, but I’m no longer accepting rubbish. Thank you very much!
Influencing can be mad profitable if you maximise the opportunities you get. But it’s also short-lived. If you don’t reinvent yourself, another person will come up, do what you’re doing and take your spot.
FRIDAY:
I finally posted on Twitter today. It wasn’t my best work but I’ll take it like that. I’m trying to show up regardless of how I feel. The more work I put out, the more I increase the probability of something clicking.
It’s just difficult shaking off the feeling that it’s been a while since my content surprised people and that’s messing with me. This weekend, I plan to explore new content formats, think up possible collaborations with fellow creatives, and maybe even consider publishing a book.
I hate how creativity can be so hard yet so simple, but I won’t give up. I’ll cry when I need to cry and laugh when it comes.
I know that there’s potential in the business and I’m going to tap into it. One thing I know is that the first step to blowing is knowing your worth. A lot of people think I have money but I don’t because it has taken so long to realise my worth. If you see yourself as trash, this industry is not kind and will treat you accordingly.
Thankfully, things are changing for me. My goal right now is to earn enough from influencing gigs so I can quit my day job. If I play my cards right that day could come sooner than expected. Until then, my plan for today is to open Slack and dance to the tunes of my capitalist employer.
I can’t wait for today to end.
Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.
While their foreign counterparts do the work by building loyal fan bases, doing research, and driving meaningful conversations around the brands they’re paid to promote, Nigerian Twitter influencers do the bare minimum. With that in mind, here’s a detailed guide on how to become a Nigerian Twitter influencer.
1) Start with super terrible jokes.
Just be sure to make it relatable and end it with an Odunlade meme or a picture of a malnourished black child laughing that has nothing to do with the joke itself.
2) Think up stupid scenarios for the timeline to drive engagement.
Some people will call you out on your bullshit but you will ignore them. That sweet-sweet engagement is all you need.
3) Do pointless comparison shit like this.
You have the option of making it a Twitter poll but don’t because then the post wouldn’t reek of desperation. Start with the line “Let’s settle this once and for all” and then follow it with a comparison between two things NO ONE IN THE HISTORY OF EVER has thought were in competition. Someone has to ask the hard questions and that person is you.
4) Have an opinion about everything being discussed on the timeline. Especially things you know nothing about.
No matter the topic, make sure you show up out of nowhere to give your hot take absolutely no one asked for. Politics? Mental health? Witchcraft? Be there for all of it.
5) Constantly offend marginalized groups to gain clout.
Sure, you’ll get dragged all over the timeline but all that exposure will be worth it in the end. Plus, the faction of Twitter that secretly agrees with your offensive views will retweet, follow, and then write in the replies, “They’re coming for you oh. lol” Whoever said there’s no such thing as bad publicity wasn’t wrong.
6) Start games that seem like harmless fun but also look suspiciously like ways to mine for people’s private information.
Someone once said these “influencers” are slowly gathering all our info to do something shady with it and I honestly won’t be shocked if that happens.
7) Ask weirdly personal and destabilizing questions from time to time.
I was scrolling through the timeline last week when I came across an influencer’s tweet that said: “What are you doing with your life?” and I was suddenly thrown head-first into an existential crisis. Feelings like this are the kind you want to elicit.
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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. This is Naira Life. All subjects in this series have chosen to remain anonymous. We’d like you to respect that.
In a little over five years, he’s made a decent living off having ideas and making them travel with people, or for having a depending stream of Instagram comments. Over and over. People like him are called influencers, and this #NairaLife is exploring how the engine works.
Let’s start from when someone first offered to pay you as an influencer.
There are layers to this, layers because I think the first time I actually made money was when I realised that someone was willing to pay to reach my followers. The first time was when someone offered me ₦20k a month just to talk about his brand.
But the real possibilities unlocked for me when someone reached out via email – he’d been trying to reach me apparently – and he said he had a campaign for me at a telco. That gig was ₦200k, and this was 2014.
What did they want you to do?
Just tweet for a couple of days and attend an event. That was the highest money I’d ever made at one at the time, and it just opened my mind to the possibilities proper.
Let’s pretend I have no clue. How does this even work?
I think it has evolved over the years. In the beginning, you were supposed to be just like a billboard, sharing content and all. But to be honest, I realised early that it wasn’t for me. I’m a creator and I wanted my voice to shine too. I started being selective with gigs and being careful about the kind of content I put out.
I started rejecting more, and choosing only things that seemed immersive – I worked at a 9-5 at the time. For example, if you want me to talk about a product, I must use it that product. If you can afford to pay me, then you can afford to give me the product.
So generally, the brand needs the audience and platform, you have the audience. The brand wants to reach them. The brand pays you, and you get the job done for them. Everybody is happy.
Talking about money, tell me about your best gig.
Omo, it depends o. A branch reached out – a pretty big FMCG – and asked me to be on a campaign. So I brought in some of the biggest influencers in Nigeria. I was one of them too, and when you combine how much I was paid, and how much I got as a commission over a cumulative 3 months, I made about ₦6.5 million.
Another one, they asked me to attend an event, posted two tweets, and got ₦200k. Very light work. I consider this one my most lucrative deal, based on the scale of work.
Then a third one was for a program I got invited to. I got sponsored to attend a training outside Nigeria. When you do the math, plus the ₦1.5 million in cash I got, I’d say it cost them about ₦8-₦10 million to engage me. So while the course wasn’t necessarily about influencing, I know I was invited because I’m an influencer.
This is by far my biggest experience and exposure.
Salary earners mostly think of income on a monthlly basis. Wage earners on a weekly basis. How do you and your colleagues think about income?
Because of how frequently campaigns come, I really can’t think too much about structured income on a weekly or monthly basis. For example, I know someone that’s automated ₦20k daily deductions to his savings app. Another person does up to ₦30k.
So yeah, for some people, it’s easy to plan. For me, not so easy. Sometimes, I could get only one campaign in a month or even none. Sometimes, nothing. Sometimes I have a flood, that pays me enough to not look elsewhere for a while.
Also, there are other things I do, so influencing won’t always be my primary source of income.
What else are you doing?
I work with a Digital agency too. That means that I’m working with some of these brands on their campaigns. Helping with Branding and design, and some development work. Also, besides influencing work, I’m also a coordinator of influencers. There’s a thin line, but every now and then, I get to be in the campaign. So you could call that Talent management. I also have a couple of retainers here and there.
How much does this fetch you in a month these days?
Again, because it’s not stable, in a normal month I’d get between ₦500k and ₦1 million, but if I really really try to even out how much I make in a year to a monthly average, it’d be about 1 million a month.
Let’s travel back to your days of fewer zeros and bills. What’s your oldest memory of money?
Ah, it was one time, when we used to live in a “face me, I face you.” One of my neighbours was a bodybuilder, so much so that he actually travelled abroad for a competition once. When he came back, he shared money amongst all of us. I got ₦20 – this was in the early nineties and I was at most 5 years old.
Shout out to that bros. What about the first thing you did for money?
Oh, this one was for an important fee in school, and we didn’t have money to pay. So I had to do some selling petty things to raise money for it. That money was less than ₦2k.
How does this type of leap change affect how you think about money?
Man, it’s a lot of things. First of all, it’s empathy. I understand struggle. I understand poverty. I never look down on people. I’m always trying to put myself in people’s shoes. I’m quite prudent now. I don’t know how to splurge. Like, I stay in a small place, compared to what I earn. It’s only recently I started spending more.
Rather than spend on myself or take things I can afford, I’d rather send money to people or family, instead of myself. You know, I have to marry someone who knows how to enjoy money, because I don’t know how to. Because of my background.
What’s something you want right now, but can’t afford?
I want to buy a house. But the type of house I want, I can’t afford it.
Do you ever wonder what the future looks like financially?
No idea. I kid you not. I just hope I have some stability. While I’m comfortable, I’ll sleep better if I can answer this questions with numbers, not hope. I’m at a crossroads in life right now. And each path has its own possibilities.
But potential outcomes are that; I relocate to my real country or marry someone with a better passport. It could be public service in Nigeria or expanding my business portfolio to include marketing, film production.
This is interesting.
Are you trolling? 5 possible paths when I’m near 30?
Hmm, so you worry about age. Tell me about it.
There are a lot of things. Considering my ‘brand’, there are a lot of things I can’t do anymore. The competition is stiffer now. Younger creators are doing amazing stuff. For me to play in that space, I have to do something different. I worry that as I’m growing older, the opportunities become scarce. So I need to figure out the path.
It’s interesting that you mentioned creators. They clearly play a key role in how we consume entertainment. How much will you say a Taooma would charge for a skit?
Okay, let’s say I’m sending an email to my boss after this story goes live to tell him I’m not doing again. I want to become an influencer. What are my chances of making it?
One thing Social Media has taught me is that nobody knows the next big thing or person. Mr Macaroni started making skits late last year, look at him today.
I don’t know what your chances are, but for anyone who wants to be an influencer, the important questions are; what do you want to influence, how and who is your audience?
Fair enough. Since influencers are mostly driven by what brands pay, and brands aren’t generally in a good place right now because of coronavirus, what’s the scene like the days?
It’s affecting everyone, but some influencers are not as hard hit as others. Brands still want to connect with an audience, so yeah. It’s slow, but it’s not dead-dead. Take for example, I already ‘lost’ four campaigns worth a cumulative ₦1.2 million.
Can’t say why, but everywhere suddenly feels hot around me. Anyway, what was stocking up for the lockdown like for you?
I really don’t know for sure, but I spent less than ₦50k. Wht I currently have should last roughly three weeks if I don’t leave the house, and if I have light. I usually always have food sha, so stocking up was just to make sure all bases are covered.
Many things have stopped, but what expenses haven’t stopped for you?
Rent, of course. Although that is paid annually; ₦500k. I’m moving soon though, so that might climb. Black tax costs me from ₦100k-₦150k monthly. I think all my subscriptions – internet, cable, streaming, and co – cost about ₦50k monthly.
What’s a purchase you made recently that significantly improved the quality of your life?
My old car was giving me too much mechanic trouble, so I bought a car. It cost about ₦5.5 million.
What’s a bad financial decision you made recently?
I invested in someone’s business, but a bunch of forces, like the market and the management, screwed it over. I’m trying to salvage it though, even though it cost me about ₦3.5 million.
Talking about investments, what’s your portfolio looking like?
Online farms. Small business. More farms. In the past year, I’ll say I’ve invested between ₦5 million and ₦6 million.
Let’s talk about financial happiness. On a scale of 1-10.
I’m a 4. I can afford basic things, I’m doing well for myself. I’m ‘comfortable’ – I can have many middle class things like travel. But I’m not comfortable enough to do it sustainably, and at scale.
I feel like – in fact I know that I should be earning way more than I’m currently earning, considering my experience and skillset. But a lot of factors are slowing me down. I’m not happy at the fact that I can’t project. I don’t have a steady source of income where, whatever happens, I know X is earned per month or quarter.
I need to get to the place of financial stability because I can predict. I can start to do things like get a mortgage.
That’s why it’s a 4 because really, I’m doing fine – I haven’t even been broke since 2014. I can do a lot of things that requires money, but the money is limited.
Have you ever imagined what life would look like if things turned out differently?
I sometimes wonder what I’d be doing if I had gotten a job with my Sciences degree. If I wasn’t an influencer. If I had decided to work in public service. I wonder and shake my head at the futility of wondering. You never know these things.
A Poet. Is there something you think I should have asked you but didn’t?
How much I’m worth.
Okay. Tell me. How liquid are you right now?
Probably ₦10 million. That’s it – wait, I have a domiciliary account with $2,000 in it. So let’s just say I probably have ₦11 million all over the place.
Alright alright. That’s enough. I need to go make my skit now. Don’t get in the way of my success.
Hahaha. When you’re done, send it so we can share.
