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Dear employers, recruiters and whoever is in charge of writing job vacancy announcements, we’re tired of seeing only job requirements and duties. It’s giving nothing.
I took it upon myself to ask job seekers what they’d rather like to see, so you may want to answer these questions in the next job opening announcement you put out.
What are the coworkers like?
What’s the work culture? And no, we don’t mean putting the “We’re a family” sentence. We’re not family members. You know it, I know it. Let’s cut the crap.
Why is the position vacant?
Did the last three people who held this position resign in tears? Did they last three months? Before I’ll go and use my hand to sign my prison sentence.
How many interviews will I need to do?
These days, some recruiters state the interview procedure, but it needs to be normalised everywhere. Not that someone will apply now and hear, “Do these three assignments before you can scale through to the preliminary interview”.
How long will the application process take?
Will you guys reply within a month, or should I just go and sleep? At least, even if someone doesn’t fit the role, gently break up with them. Don’t ghost them.
How much is the salary?
This is the real star of the show. Do you think I’m applying to enter capitalism because of passion?
Is it eye service you want?
Because some of you will put 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. as working hours, but if an employee tries to leave work immediately it’s 5, you start squeezing face. Let’s not be unfortunate, dear.
Does the boss’s head usually touch?
They don’t use to shout at some of us o. If you know you’ll raise your voice because you “can’t control your passion” or you “expect excellence”, better write it there.
Can I fall in love with my coworker?
It’s not like we’ll set out to catch feelings, but sometimes, people want to make their work spouses their actual spouses. If it’s a no-no, write it in the job vacancies so the romantics can find love elsewhere.
After the electoral malpractice shege seen at the presidential poll on February 25, 2023, many Nigerians might have started considering removing themselves from the country.
If you belong to this group, you’re in luck because we will explain how to do so.
One major way to lose citizenship is by renunciation, which means you’ve had enough of Nigeria’s troubles and have voluntarily relinquished your nationality.
However, to do this, there are some criteria you must meet.
What are the eligibility requirements?
You must be 18 years and above
The government has to be sure you’re “old” enough to understand the gravity of the decision you’re about to make.
You mustn’t have any criminal or financial liability to Nigeria
This is to make sure you’re not responsible for any crime or illegal behaviour .
You must be of sound mind
Nigeria doesn’t exactly leave plenty of room for soundness of mind, but still, you should be able to prove that you’re stable and healthy.
You have to belong to another country or at least be likely to be granted citizenship in another country
There’s no “I belong to everybody and I belong to nobody” trope here; you must identify with a new country.
So, once these requirements are met, you can finally begin the process.
Steps for renouncing your citizenship
Visit the proper authorities, i.e. the Nigerian embassy, Nigerian immigration service or Ministry of Interior in your country of residence.
Fill out the application form with complete information signed and certified before a Notary Public, Magistrate, Justice of Peace or Commissioner of Oath.
Submit the application form alongside the following documents:
National Identity card
Passport photograph
Original birth certificate
Nigerian passport and other travelling documents
Evidence of alternate citizenship, i.e. a copy of the foreign passport, foreign citizenship certificate or document of information that the applicant will become a citizen of a different country
However, you should know that according to Section 29 subsection 1-2 of the 1999 constitution, the president has the sole power to refuse your request if:
We’re in the middle of a war (we’ll all be in it together)
Your leaving will be contrary to public policy
There’s something else you should know…
Good luck in your journey to renounce Nigeria, but we have some bad news. The above mentioned process applies primarily to people who weren’t Nigerians by birth.
If you were born a Nigerian, the country allows you dual citizenship. This means the only way you’d be able to renounce Nigeria is if you’re applying to be a citizen of countries like Qatar, China or Mauritania, which don’t allow dual citizenship.
And while having dual citizenship might not be exactly what you want, there are some opportunities it brings that might interest you.
I’m sure you’d have never guessed it, but Zikoko is TechCabal’s younger sister. Like all last-borns, she’s the more irreverent publication. But in a move to be more like her elder sibling who relaunched his website in 2022, Zikoko is also relaunching hers. And TechCabal wants to know why she’s copying him.
TechCabal: Can you introduce yourself, my dear baby sister?
Zikoko: Who is a baby? I don’t know who’s deceiving you that you’re the older publication. Is it because you write about tech bros? For the sake of those who don’t know, Zikoko documents Nigerian youth pop culture.
TC: We started publishing stories before you. And why are you here?
Z: Well, I rebranded my website. And I did it to stay fresh. It’s 2023. I want my website to reflect the new age of Nigerian youth.
TC: What’s so fresh about your new website?
Z: I’ve organised all my content better. My readers can now see all my categories at the top of the page. I also put trending articles on the home page, so they can see which articles are hot and get the gist faster. I know you can’t relate since you only publish boring news.
TC: Not that I was trying to relate.
But there are unsubstantiated rumours that you take crack to be funny. Can you shed some light on this?
Z: I can neither confirm nor deny the rumours. But if I was taking crack, it’d probably be the purple kind. Purple really suits me, don’t you think?
TC: Interesting
Z: No comment. Say no to drug abuse.
TC: Too late! What else is on your new site?
Z: I changed how my readers can watch videos. It’s a lot easier to find my many hilarious shows now.
There’s a new newsletter widget too. I’m super excited about this one because instead of subscribing to all of them without knowing exactly what you’re signing up for, my readers get to choose and pick their faves.
TC: Are you changing the type of content you offer?
Z: Nope. My readers can still read all their favourite flagships, like Naira Life which shares how people relate with money. And Love Currency — stories of how people in relationships interact with money.
TC: Is it only money you talk about?
Z: Why don’t you wait for me to finish. It’ll also have categories like Aluta and Chill, talking about university students and their challenges. The Pop category won’t go anywhere either; I’ll never stop talking about Nigerian pop culture.
TC: Do you document serious conversations at all?
Z: But why are you such an old millennial? So money, pop culture and relationships aren’t serious? Well, I also have a new vertical, Citizen, to talk about politics and teach young people how it affects them. I do all I can to amplify youth culture by curating and creating smart and joyful content for young Nigerians all over the world.
But I’m sure you also can’t relate to the joyful part.
TC: I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that last part
Z: Did I lie?
TC: Do you have anything else to add, please?
Z: All these your questions are too much, abeg. I have better things to do.
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.
This week’s #ZikokoWhatSheSaid subject is a 68-year-old Nigerian woman with a thyroid disorder that imitates clinical depression. She tells us how her health struggles have given her a strangely positive outlook on life after a decade of numbness.
After I had my last born in 1992. I was 37, and my neck just started swelling. After some weeks, it was worryingly large. I wasn’t in pain, but I was always coughing and short of breath. When I went to the hospital, they said I had goitre, that my thyroid was inflamed, and it was because I was deficient in iodine.
I was so scared because my loving sister had passed away because of throat cancer in 1990. But thank God, mine was nothing cancerous. I did surgery, and it was gone.
This feels like one of those movies where…
Yes, it came back. About a month later, I started having muscle and joint pain and was constantly tired. So I returned to my doctor, who referred me to a colleague in England.
I travelled, did several tests and waited another two months before being diagnosed with hypothyroidism.
What did this mean?
It meant my thyroid wasn’t producing enough hormones for my body, so I had to start taking hormone replacement tablets every day. It also meant everything became worse.
Because of the drugs?
No. After having my last child, Fola, I went into what we all thought was postpartum depression. I had no motivation to do anything at all. I couldn’t return to work. I didn’t even want to breastfeed him. In fact, I had this irrational phobia for breastfeeding, so he had to grow up on formula. Luckily for us, my sister-in-law had a child shortly after, so she would breastfeed him for me when she was around.
I was numb, physically cold, my skin was so dry, like it was harmattan when it wasn’t, and I simply didn’t want to do anything. I was religious before, but after Fola, I no longer wanted to pray or read the Bible. I wanted to stay in bed and be left completely alone without having to think about anything or anyone. The worst sound to me at that time was my baby’s crying. I couldn’t stand it.
It wasn’t. After the neck surgery, I felt a bit better. At least, I could relate with people and carry Fola, but I didn’t return to being happy. It’s a tiny blur in the past now, but I remember being such a friendly, lighthearted person.
Once the body pain and tiredness started, I went into a deeper depression. I’d walk around the house slowly because I didn’t want to do even the littlest things — moving from one room to another. I was gaining weight, constantly constipated, constantly having muscle cramps and joint pains. My period was haywire, and I no longer wanted sex. My husband was so frustrated by the whole thing, but bless him, he tried his hardest not to show it.
We never knew that I was suffering from a medical condition where my brain was triggering sadness because I didn’t have enough of one hormone.
Damn. I’m so sorry. What was life like after the diagnosis?
I didn’t notice any improvements even after several months of taking the hormone replacement drugs. So I was in and out of the hospital, sometimes even having to take trips back to England, for more and more blood tests until the correct dose was found.
I felt like a lab rat, constantly being poked and experimented on. I slept in and out of different hospitals and labs between ‘93 and ‘94. All the specialists in LUTH and UI knew my husband and me very well. They’d even make social calls to our home. Meanwhile, I just felt dead inside.
Even after you got the correct dose?
Yes. The physical side got better. My skin and period pattern normalised. But for the next decade, I struggled with the motivation to do anything at all. I was either sleeping all the time or suffering from insomnia. I couldn’t even cry anymore. I was just numb, blank, like an empty barrel.
And this went on for ten years?
Or more. I missed my children growing up, my career never recovered after I lost my job in ‘93, and I couldn’t sustain a business.
In 1995, I travelled to stay with my eldest sister for some time in Akure. It was supposed to be for a few weeks because my husband wanted me to have a change of scenery, and I myself was feeling so guilty and worthless watching him carry all the weight at home, paying for everything and raising our five children. I ended up staying in Akure for close to a year.
If you’d like to be my next subject on #WhatSheSaid, click here to tell me why
Why?
I just couldn’t go back. It was a huge mental battle where I felt like I was being swallowed up and drowned out by the depression. And I could tell my sister and her family felt sorry for me. That was when I started cutting myself with knife and razors. I’d feel like I was drifting, disappearing, so I’d lock myself in my room and cut my lower arm and thighs out of desperation.
I remember the first time I did this was the first time I smiled in a long time. It was like the devil was using me. I was always scared right after I cleaned the self-inflicted wounds with spirit and plastered them up.
What made you think about cutting yourself?
My God, I don’t know. It must’ve been out of desperation. I might’ve been somewhat suicidal. I think I was. It’s hard now to figure out my motives and the things I did during that long foggy period. I wasn’t myself.
What made you eventually return home?
My husband persuaded me to come back, saying that my children needed their mother. I remember both our families begging me like I was this wicked person who didn’t want to be with her family. Not knowing I was struggling with myself. I allowed them to take me, and I returned to moping around in our house for another several years. I was like a ghost.
Did you stop cutting yourself?
I’ve heard now that people get addicted to cutting. But I bless God I never got to that stage. It was shame that made me stop because when I returned to my husband’s house, he never let me leave his sight. I couldn’t imagine him finding out I was doing something like that, so I gave it up. Even when he found the healed and unhealed cuts I gave myself in Akure, I lied that they happened naturally due to my condition. He just shook his head and let it go.
What changed after a decade?
In 2000, a friend of mine who relocated to the US in the 80s invited me to visit with her in Houston, Texas, for a month. I think she and my husband had spoken to each other because I’d cut off ties with most of my friends since the whole thing started. She took me from therapist to therapist until one day, we went to see this woman who was a hypnotist.
Weren’t you scared to see a hypnotist?
I was nothing. I don’t think I even thought about it. I just let my friend take me anywhere, all the while wishing I could just be allowed to stay in one place and be. Surprisingly, this session was the first treatment to give me some long-lasting relief.
She didn’t ask me questions or proffer much advice because my depression was linked to a medical condition that would never disappear. That’s what made it so hard to manage. There was no talking through it, figuring out triggers, or getting closure; just my body’s inadequacy.
So how exactly did the hypnotherapy go?
Unfortunately, I don’t remember a thing beyond going there, meeting the kind black woman and leaving much lighter.
I see. And what changed exactly?
Alone in my room that night, my mind was blank in a new way. It was like I was open to new revelations. I realised my condition could be a blessing rather than a curse if I just opened my mind to see it that way. Because I no longer wanted to do anything, my condition indirectly freed me from the pressures of constantly chasing the vanities of life. Nothing really matters in life except what we make of it.
I’m not saying people should want to be depressed, but it’s happened to me. What can I make out of it?
What have you made out of it?
I’ve achieved contentment. It stopped being important for me to compete with everyone else over every single thing. My body has forced me to focus on taking one step, one day at a time. I never want to go back to that stage of giving myself wounds to feel alive or insulting myself in my mind because I feel guilty over something God thought to give me naturally.
And work? Were you ever able to go back?
Not really. After so many years at home, my husband opened a supermarket for me to manage in 2001. It was about a year after the hypnotherapy — I did two sessions of that before returning to Nigeria.
I’ve run the stores successfully for 21 years and expanded to three other locations on the mainland and one on the island. My eldest handles most of the operations now. God has been faithful.
It’s been 31 years since your first surgery. Are you still depressed?
I don’t even know anymore. I now take SSRIs (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors), so I’m very restless these days. I want to take walks, see my grandchildren and attend Sunday service, but I’ve also been having short-term memory loss and finding it hard to concentrate on things.
At the end of the day, I don’t remember to care or be sad about these things. I’m content and ready for whatever life brings.
Word on the streets is some 9-5ers still don’t know how to answer the “What’s your expected salary?” question. I also heard some just collect whatever amount is written in the offer letter.
Ah. Don’t you like money, dear?
I’m not even shading anyone. Some 9-5ers is me; I’m some 9-5ers. I also want to learn how to earn what I deserve, so I got these millennial professionals to share tips on what’s worked for them.
“Research o”
— Chinwe, 28, Human resource manager
When I ask people what salary they’d like to receive, I expect their answers to show they’ve done their research. Like, how would you apply at a multinational and say you want to receive ordinary ₦150k? It may be much to you, depending on where you’re coming from, but you have to make your findings. Research o.
Plus, research helps when the company doesn’t put the expected salary in the vacancy. I use Glassdoor. Your research should answer questions like, “What is the normal salary range for this role in this industry?” “How much does this company typically pay?” This is so you have something reasonable to say when the question comes up.
“Know when to try”
— Ola*, 31, Digital marketer
It hinges a lot on the type of company you’re applying to. I’ve found that many Nigerian companies aren’t really open to negotiation. They’ll just put the salary there; try to ask for something higher, and they’ll be like, “Is this one serious?”
So, know when to try to ask for more. If you really want the job and don’t want to risk it, just accept their offer. If they ask you for your expected salary during the interview, give a range, but emphasise that you’re open to hearing what they have in mind. If they’re trying to poach you, feel free to go crazy. The fact that they reached out to you already means they want to hire you, so they’ll be more open to negotiating.
“TBH, it’s a gamble”
— Joe*, 33, Graphic designer
There’s no one size fits all approach to it. TBH, it’s a gamble, but you can also make an informed one by comparing what you earn to what others earn.
One thing I try to do is double my current income and use that as a template for the “What’s your expected salary?” question. It’s either they get back to me or they don’t. Someone offered me a salary once, and I reached back to appreciate their offer but explained why my skills, experience and the value I would bring to them meant I needed a 30% increase on what they initially offered. They accepted. You’ll never know if you’ll be lucky unless you try.
I learnt something from a career coach: have a brag sheet of your accomplishments ready so you can defend whatever amount you’re requesting as remuneration at the interview. Let them know what you’re worth.
If you want to ask for ₦3m for instance, your previous accomplishments should tell them, “Yes, this person is worth it. If they could do so and so at this place, they should be able to do more here”.
“Be open to negotiating”
— Ore, 27, Financial analyst
Some companies won’t even ask how much you want to earn, they’ll just put an amount in their offer letter. If you’re okay with it, fine. But I always tell my friends to be more open to negotiating. Try to ask for more. It can be something as simple as asking for a one-time 20% increase to cover your logistics needs if you’re moving locations for the job, for instance. Of course, it also depends on the company, but there’s no harm in trying.
“It’s not just about the salary”
— Leah*, 37, Brand manager
You can also negotiate better benefits or leave days. It’s not just about the salary. If you’re applying for an executive-level position, for instance, your offer letter may include the allowances you’ll get. So, if they’re offering you a 10% transportation allowance, you can negotiate for a higher percentage, or if they’re offering 15 leave days, you can negotiate for 20. Remuneration isn’t just about the salary; it’s the entire package.
“Try… and pray”
— Jojo, 30, Content marketer
I try to always be prepared for the salary question, and I never sell myself short. I’ve called amounts that even in my mind, I was like, “Girl, you like money o”. But no recruiter has laughed at me. They only either try to negotiate or tell me what their budget is. Also, pray o. Prayer works for me, and if it’s your thing, there’s no harm in trying it before any interview or salary negotiation.
*Some names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
You keep asking people to japa like they can go to Canada with Chisco night bus. Japa is not cheap. Less than 3% of Nigerians according to NDIC have above 500k in their bank account.
Please exercise empathy, we just can’t travel, it requires money which some people don’t have.
— MunafromTravelletters (@Munachimsoooo) March 1, 2023
We spoke to seven Nigerians who’ve either left the country or had the opportunity to but didn’t take it. They shared what they wish they did differently and their advice to younger Nigerians.
“I planned to retire here, but I might go back”
— Christiana*, 63
I moved to the UK in the 70s with my husband and kids because his family is from there. It wasn’t the most popular decision then, and I badly missed Nigeria. It didn’t help that I separated from my husband soon after we left. I became quite successful — and I attribute it to the working system — raised my children alone and regularly sent money home, but I always wanted to return to Nigeria because of how much I missed my country. So when I retired in 2020, I decided to spend my retirement years in my fatherland. I started building a house in Lagos and eventually moved back in October 2022, but I regret it.
These past few weeks of cash scarcity have been tough for me. I don’t have a debit card because I put some limitations on my account so they only pay me over the counter. I did this a few years earlier after I got robbed when I visited Nigeria. So, the one time I was able to enter the bank during this period, they gave me ₦5k and asked me not to come back for cash until after ten days. My kids have been pestering me to return to the UK, and I may have to listen to them sooner or later. I’d advise any young person to leave if they have the chance. It’s better to have an option than to be stuck here.
“I regret not leaving earlier”
— Wole*, 52
My wife and I have worked in pretty impressive organisations over the years — even the United Nations — so money wasn’t a problem. We had the opportunity to relocate right after we got married, but I’ve always been an advocate for “Nigeria will be great”. We’ve been married for over 20 years, and Nigeria has only gotten worse during that period.
Now, we have three children in private universities, and I regret not relocating earlier. It’s now expensive to move everyone at the same time, whereas if we had simply moved after marriage, we’d only have each other to worry about. My wife is still trying to apply to Canada through WES, so we’ll see how it goes. For the younger generation, if you see any opportunity to leave, please, take it.
“Nigeria is my home”
— Leke*, 40
I’ve had the opportunity to leave this country, but I don’t see myself ever leaving Nigeria permanently. Nigeria is my home. My businesses are here, and I can always travel and come back. People think the grass is greener abroad, but do you think it’s easy to succeed there? Especially with the many taxes and regulations.
Why don’t we focus all that japa hustle energy on building our country? Let foreigners want to relocate here instead.
I had the opportunity to travel to the UK as a nurse ten years ago, but I didn’t want to leave my children behind. I didn’t trust my husband not to bring another woman into the house who’d maltreat my children.
I wouldn’t say I regret it now because I’d make the same decision if I could go back in time. My children will japa on my behalf, and I know I won’t suffer, no matter what happens in Nigeria.
“It’s the best decision I ever made”
— Goke*, 36
I relocated to Canada in 2022. I’ve not spent up to six months here, but it’s easily the best decision I’ve ever made. I’m finally in a system that works. I don’t have family members here, but at least, I’m not looking over my shoulder for a policeman or “ungun known man” when I walk the streets.
For the younger ones, I’ll say if you have to save, do it. If you have to go the educational route, do it. Do whatever it takes to leave that country. Tinubu has finally rigged his way to victory, and I predict it’ll only get worse.
“I won’t rest till I move my family here”
— Ify*, 42
I moved to the US for my PhD in 2015 and became a permanent resident in 2022. I’m glad I got out, and I advise young Nigerians to try the academic route too. Even if you decide to return to Nigeria, at least you know you can leave if things get crazy.
As for me, I won’t rest till I move my mum and dad here. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll find a way. I can’t let them remain at the mercy of evil leaders.
“I know Nigeria will be better”
— Segun*, 35
I moved to London for my master’s in 2017 but didn’t try to stay back. I believe in Nigeria’s potential, so I chose to come back home and try to be the change I hope to see in this nation. Contrary to popular belief, I know Nigeria will be better with Tinubu at the helm of affairs. He has the experience and prowess, and I eagerly look forward to a new wind of change in this country.
*Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
In the spirit of Valentine, we decided to give four foods a chance to write love letters to who they care about. Love Letters to Food.
Egg Sauce of life,
I’m in awe of you. I love how diverse you are. You can be cooked in so many ways with different ingredients. It’s one of the reasons why many people love you. You bring all the excitement to this marriage, and I’m grateful for it.
When I was dating stew, not only was I always bored, but I also felt incomplete, like something was missing. I couldn’t figure out what it was until I met you. It felt like an age-old connection was rekindled, and every moment we spend together, I appreciate all that you offer me.
You’re my best friend. I love that we can be romantic and lovey-dovey and also goofy and mischievous as hell. I remember when someone made us for lunch, ate a tiny bit and put the rest of us in the fridge. We felt so unwanted and wanted to get revenge so bad, we decided to fall on the floor the next time he took us out of the fridge. The look on his face was too funny.
You make life so easy; when people are thinking of what to eat me with, you always make yourself an available option, and I really appreciate that. In the midst of all the chaos in this country, you’ve been there for me. When people boil me too soft, you comfort me and tell me you’ll deal with the person. It’s so cute when you act like you can fight. I remember when you threatened to beat up that Chukwudi boy who cut me up haphazardly and then forgot about me until I got burnt because he went to watch a football match. I found it so sexy and adorable at the same.
I love how we work so well together, like we were meant to be. The way your sauce mixes with my soft body is the reason people love us so much. We’re the perfect breakfast combo. If anyone disagrees, they can argue with their frying pan. I hope we continue to make people happy during mealtime. I also hope I bring you even a fraction of the joy you bring me.
You have illuminated my life and enriched it far more than I could have dreamed possible. I can’t imagine my world without you. To more breakfasts and brunches.
The most interesting Nigerians are the ones you meet on a queue. But this isn’t just any queue. Here are the seven types of people you’re sure to meet at your polling unit come February 25th.
The one who just wants to be comfortable
These guys don’t care how long it’ll take, all that matters is they have their charged power banks, foldable chairs with an umbrella attached, multiple bottles of water, food and snacks. They want to vote but in the most comfortable way, and to be honest, I stan.
The one who came to keep space for all their family members
They’d keep space for themselves and their entire generation unborn, if possible. And you can’t even be upset because, at least, they came to vote.
The pastor who prays before voting starts
You’ll be trying to get yourself together after arriving early to see a long queue, and the next thing, you hear is, “Can we please close our eyes for prayers”. We’ll allow it sha. Maybe God will make people vote right for the good of Nigeria.
The first-time voter
This one is just there to stress about the process. The person at their front or back will get sick of answering questions and start ignoring them. They’ll be alright when they realise it’s not hard — just make your choice and go.
The political analysts
Instead of voting and going home to their families, they find a spot to hang around and argue for hours.
The vote watchers
Just like the political analysts, they stay behind after voting to see who other people have voted for. They’ll interview everyone and just cause a nuisance. Ignoring them is the only way to go.
You
You know what you want from your candidate. You know the future you want for yourself and everyone else. All that matters to you is casting your vote so you can go home and wait for a favourable result. Your vote counts in every way.
When this #NairaLife started a conversation online about savings culture, Gabriel* (28) saw himself in the subject. He talks about having millions saved but refusing to spend more than ₦20k per month, instead choosing to seek bailouts from friends.
I don’t know if I suffer from a chronic case of stinginess, but I have this chronic need to save money. I don’t have any issues with spending other people’s money, but I draw the line when it comes to mine.
I’m what my parents like to call a “miracle baby”. I have just one sibling, and he’s 13 years older than me. After my parents had my brother, they tried for years for another child, and eventually had me when they’d given up. By then, they’d spent so much on fertility treatments which really drained their finances. By the time I came around, they didn’t have money, but to them, I was an answered prayer.
I didn’t realise how bad the situation was until I was around eight or nine. If I ate twice a day, it meant my parents could only eat once that day. I watched as my brother worked crazy hard to support us financially. And it looked like he’d actually be the one to lift us from the depths of poverty. Around that time, he made enough to move us out of our one-room apartment in Bariga. But he decided to invest the rent money and the investment flopped. It was back to square one, and we never recovered.
I think that’s when my chronic need to save started. In my mind, if I don’t touch the money, nothing bad would happen to it. Anytime anyone dashed me money or asked me to keep the change after running an errand, I’d hide it inside a hole in the wall of our apartment. I preferred to beg my mates for sweets when they bought them with money they were given, rather than buy my own sweets.
Even when I managed to get into university, I kept feeling like I’d be made to drop out at any time over unpaid fees, so even though I helped my fellow students with assignments for a fee, I wouldn’t touch the money I made. I lived on handouts from my brother and squatted with friends. The few times I had to touch my savings for school expenses when my brother couldn’t afford it, it felt like I was physically hurting myself.
I work now and earn an average of ₦180k per month, but my mantra is, “I don’t have money”. My parents and friends think I earn ₦60k because I’m trying to avoid black tax. I live on around ₦20k every month only because I have to eat and take public transportation to get to work.
I’m a single homebody, so I never have to eat out or spend money on a girlfriend. My friends are amazing guys who make good money, and they’re always helping me with bailouts. I live with my best friend so rent isn’t a problem, though I try to handle our food expenses once in a while. The last time I bought myself clothes was three years ago. I still have a shirt I’ve been wearing since 2016.
I sometimes feel bad that I can’t be honest with my friends about how much I earn, but them knowing would only increase their expectations of me, and when I refuse to spend, they may call me stingy. But I honestly can’t bring myself to spend unless it’s absolutely necessary. Even then, I hate spending my own money.
My savings are running into millions now, but I try not to focus on it. In this country, you’re one sickness away from depleting your entire account. One medical emergency can have you spending ₦5 million like it’s ₦5k. So, it only makes sense to save for the rainy day.
I hope to japa one day, so I also save with that in mind, but the truth is, even if I don’t need money for proof of funds in the future, I’d still save like my life depends on it, because it does. There’s this assurance that seeing money in my bank account gives me. It tells me I’d never go back to that eight-year-old boy whose dream of leaving Bariga was unexpectedly cut short because of money.
Your japa dreams have finally come to pass, and it’s time to leave Nigeria. It’s also time to sell all your properties for extra cash.
When I say “property”, you might be thinking cars and family land. No, that’s for bastardly-rich people. For ordinary citizens like you and me, these items are the sellable property.
Plastic “takeaway” plates
We all still have a giant pile of takeaway plates dating back since 2005. Some people call it hoarding, I say it’s saving the environment from plastic pollution. So what if they now look like a fair Igbo babe? They still work, right? Sell them.
Why throw away what you’ve spent years accumulating, when you can just pass on the tradition to someone else for a fee? If you think no one will buy because they have their own stash of plastic bags, just try it first. There’s no such thing as too many plastic bags.
Power bank
There’s no NEPA where you’re going, so you might as well sell your power bank to those who still need it.
Hand fans
Sure, the sun is everywhere, but the one abroad sun-kisses people.
Cash
Specifically, the new naira notes. It’s now worth more than dollars in Nigeria, so you’ll be smiling to the bank.
Body parts
Wherever you’re relocating to, the odds are their medical system is better than Nigeria’s. I’m sure they can keep you alive even without a heart or liver.
Wi-Fi devices and data
You can even throw in your sim cards as a bonus. Considering how much these internet service providers have disgraced us, I say it’s good riddance to bad rubbish.
Your glucose guardian
Unless they’ll be sending you funds in foreign currency, sell them. What do you need naira for when you’re already in a new dispensation?
From the people with valid points to the ones who are angry for no reason, here are the different types you’ll see in a Twitter conversation. Know the ones you’re dealing with so you can avoid trouble.
The instigators
The ones who tweet clearly stupid or controversial things just for engagement. They always disappear when the chaos starts, so beware of their trap.
The fire stokers
The devil has many advocates and most are on Twitter. The best place to find them is in the comment section of the instigators.
The market sellers
These ones don’t care about anything. They just want to use all the trending topics to sell their market. So if you see a tweet that ends with words that make no sense together — “Buhari, Oshodi, BBNaija” — just know they’re trying to sell something.
The attention-seeking contrarians
If everyone is arguing about whether or not two plus two is equal to four, you can be sure to find someone who’ll mention how numbers are a capitalist invention. They’re the ITKs of Twitter.
The commentators
These ones actually want to have a conversation. They’ll lay down points that’ll make you feel sorry for them for talking sense in a wild place like Nigerian Twitter.
The jokers
It’s never that deep with these people. They’ll come at any hot take with a slam dunk that makes everybody forget why they were angry in the first place.
The angry ones
For these ones, every conversation is a threat of violence. They just want to insult anybody with a different opinion. No matter how calm you feel, once you engage them, heat will start catching you. They might even curse your father for no reason at all.
Adulting is more than enough reason to seek therapy. Your entire life is just an endless cycle of bills and deciding what to eat.
But you see these particular jobs? They’re so stressful, anyone who does them should automatically qualify for free therapy.
POS operator
Sure, they’re balling now, but they’re also fast becoming the subject of swears because of the high withdrawal charges the cash scarcity has forced them to impose. #PrayForAnOperatorToday
Babalawo
One day, you’re performing money rituals hitch-free. The next day, you hear the government wants to change currency. How do you tell the gods they have to start applying filter on the notes they send?
Writer
Especially Zikoko writers. You may already know this, but we’re not fully alright.
TikToker
Because it can’t be normal to dress up just to dance in front of a camera 24 hours every day.
In fact, every content creator
Especially those who live in Nigeria. If NEPA isn’t acting up, it’s fuel acting like a shy bride. God, abeg.
Tailor
Yes, we love to hate tailors, but why would you give someone ₦5k for a corset dress? Think it na.
Every worker in Nigeria
Living in Nigeria is already hard. You now have to work? Sorry o.
Since the beginning of the year, every day for Nigerians has not been the day the Lord made. We have been fuelled purely by chaos.
One of the problems started on October 26, 2022, when the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) governor, Godwin “Meffy” Emefiele, announced plans to redesign the ₦200, ₦500 and ₦1000 notes. A month later, the new banknotes were unveiled. Although some people predicted that it might be difficult for Nigerians to adjust to this change, no one could have foreseen the level of discomfort Meffy’s Naira makeover has caused.
What has happened?
Naira scarcity
Nigerians have been dealing with Naira scarcity while racing against CBN deadlines of January 31, 2023, subsequently extended to February 10, 2023.
Despite this, Nigerians have had to take the labours of Hercules to get their hands on the new notes.
Due to the tensions the Naira has created, some states, Kogi, Zamfara, and Kaduna, sued the Federal government at the Supreme Court over the current scarcity of banknotes.
After many complaints, on February 16, 2023, President Bubu tried to channel his inner Superman by approving the use of old ₦200 notes till April 10, 2023. But this has proven to be hardly helpful as statistics show that the old ₦200 notes make up only 9.19 per cent of the currency volume in the last seven years.
Meffy’s reason for the Naira redesign was to fight corruption and inflation, but so far, it seems like Nigerians have had to pay a high price for this. Let’s look at some things the Nigerians have lost due to the Naira scarcity.
Their businesses
Since the Naira scarcity problem started, many traders have had to bear losses, especially those who sell perishable goods because they haven’t had enough customers.
Photo credits: Twitter/The Voice Of Port Harcourt/@TheVoiceOfPHC
Some traders don’t have bank accounts, and others who do and accept transfers have faced network challenges. This situation has forced many of them to slash the prices of their goods, though they might be incurring losses. Some herders complained that a big cow that’d usually be sold for around ₦400k now goes for ₦270k.
Their lives
On February 17, 2023, a 32-year-old woman, who was nine months pregnant, died in a specialist hospital in Kano because her husband didn’t have the new naira notes to pay the hospital on time.
The woman was in labour by the time they arrived at the hospital, and her husband tried to pay the requested ₦8,528 with the old notes but it was rejected. The hospital had no POS machine, and they asked the man to transfer the money instead, which he did. But the cashier had to wait to confirm payment. The medical personnel also refused to proceed with the treatment until the evidence of payment was brought.
The payment wasn’t confirmed until after three hours. The hospital requested an additional fee of ₦4000 for blood service, and the payment also had to be confirmed. This time, the man pleaded with them to proceed with the treatment, and they finally rushed her to the labour room around 1 a.m.. Unfortunately, his wife and child didn’t make it.
Their means of transportation
Many commuters have had to trek or face embarrassment from bus conductors who have refused to collect old notes. It’s 2023, and our train stations still only accept cash as a payment medium. It’s almost like if you can’t pull a miracle to get cash in hand, then the best thing for you would be to stay home or exercise your leg muscles and walk.
No one knows when or if the current wave of suffering in the country will end anytime soon. All we can do is hope that the new administration coming in after the upcoming elections will make our lives easier than it is currently.
In the spirit of Valentine, we decided to give four foods the chance to write love letters to those they care about. This is Love Letters to Food.
Dear Beans,
Remember when we were at a bukka and a man came in shouting that their food had given him explosive diarrhoea? He was so furious as told them how he spent his entire day in and out of the toilet and even finished all the tissue in the house.
We just sat in a corner laughing because you were the cause of his stomach problem. When you were being cooked, you pretended like you were done, so the seller put off the fire and served you like that. It was even funnier because I was on the plate with you and knew the prank you were about to pull. It was such a foolish prank.
I miss when we used to cause mischief. You were always ready to do foolish things with me, and that’s why you’re my favourite cousin in the entire world. You’re the one family member I genuinely get along with. Butter and egg are great, but they’re also boring. Their idea of fun is starting polls on who between them people prefer to eat me with. And I hate the polls because I’d rather be eaten with you.
People used to eat us together a lot. . They used to crave us so much that, before Thursday, we would’ve been served to at least 16 people in one bukka alone. We were the perfect team because we taste great for how cheap we are. But now, we rarely see each other.
You spend a lot more time with yam, plantain and rice. And I guess it’s because people don’t just want to eat you and me all the time. I’ve even seen you hang out with sliced bread and spaghetti a few times. And while I’m happy you get to spend more time with other foods (I’m not sure about you and spaghetti sha), I sometimes long for the days when it was you and I, with the others as “once in a while” options.
You’re not just my cousin, you’re my best friend. And despite all the foods I’ve met in this life, there’s no one like you. You’re so cool people even eat you alone and enjoy you. You make them gassy and that makes you such a fun food because there’s never a dull moment with you. Remember when we used to laugh at short people who ate a lot of you because they thought it would make them taller? Or when people used to dip me in Coke because that’s how much sapa had dealt with them. Good times.
Thank you for bringing excitement into my life. Thank you for showing me there’s more to life than sitting around and waiting to be eaten. As I’ve said about 100 times in this love letter, I miss you cuz. Life is boring without you. I really hope we get to spend a lot more time together this year. With the way the economy is going, more people will look for us soon, so be ready. We need to be there for them in their time of need.
Nigerians in the diaspora can be annoying sometimes. It’s like they all got the same memo: Japa and begin to find ways to annoy all the Nigerians you left behind. I need japa connoisseurs to please stop doing these 10 things.
Recording videos in the snow
One thing japa warriors have in common is recording all their videos outside in the snow. Does the snow emphasise that they’re abroad, or does it show the hardship they’re really going through? Either way, they need to stop.
Telling us how cold it is
At least 100 new Ontarians have told us how cold it is. We’ve heard. But it won’t stop us from coming.
Reminding us that it’s not easy
Every five seconds, they must remind us that living abroad isn’t easy, like they’re not enjoying the perks of a functional society and economy. Come back to Nigeria then, if abroad is so tough. Nowhere is completely easy, except you’re rich.
Telling us to stay back
I hate when they make statements like, “Don’t come to the UK. The people here aren’t friendly”, or “Don’t come to Japan. The sun doesn’t shine”. Other nationalities are finding ways to bring in more of their people, but Nigerians are telling theirs not to come.
Telling us how lonely it is
They don’t even mean they miss their families or struggle to make genuine friends. All they care about is how hard it is to find a sex partner. Then they tell us to find partners we can bring abroad with us.
Telling us to japa
They japa and immediately forget the struggles they faced when they were leaving the country. Now, every time something bad happens in Nigeria, we get variations of “Better japa fast if you like yourself”, “Japa o. Nigeria is horrible”. Will you give me the money?
Acting like they don’t know how bad Nigeria is
All of a sudden, they’ve forgotten that NEPA takes light and the background sound they hear over the phone is generator noise. I once complained about working late at a former bank job, to a friend abroad, and he asked me to quit since they aren’t paying overtime. You say, what?
Telling us how much stuff in their new country costs in naira
“Can’t believe I just paid ₦13k to barb my hair.” No, sir. You paid $30. They’re not earning in naira, so I don’t get why they’re always crying about the naira equivalent of things. Are they looking for pity?
As a Nigerian, your mother probably already gists you about yet another family friend’s child who’s getting married, but do you really know the many things that go on in her head? What would she write about if she had a secret diary?
I imagine it would look like this:
Sunday
Dear Diary,
The devil really tried me today, but as always, I serve a living God who’ll never allow my enemies to turn me into a laughing stock.
It started with my own children. I woke them up for church at 5 a.m. as usual. Tell me why these children were still brushing their teeth when I came to check on them at 6 a.m.? Why won’t they oversleep when they’ll be pressing phone at night like evil spirits? Upon all the Whuzzup messages I share with them about the dangers of pressing phone at night? Well, I didn’t kill my mother, so they won’t kill me.
That’s how I saw Mama Iyabo in church today. Can you believe this woman sat down in the front row with her long gele, blocking everyone else? She didn’t even wait for women’s meeting after church. She thinks she’s better than everyone, but we all know her son is doing yahoo with that his dada hair. Her daughter nko? That one will be walking up and down the street in pant, abi bum shorts.
Wait o, have those children brought out stew from the freezer? Diary, wait please, I’m coming back.
Monday
Dear Diary,
I saw a video on Whuzzup that really scared me today o. Do you know the government is releasing 5G so they can control us and give everybody gonorrhoea? I’ve forwarded it to everybody I know, even Mama Iyabo. I don’t like her, but everyone deserves to know what’s happening so we can pray for our lives.
I don’t know if my children have downloaded the video because it’s not showing that blue tick that tells you someone has seen your message. In fact, diary, let me call them and make sure they see it. This is a matter of life and death.
Tuesday
Dear Diary,
You know Musa na? My customer who sells onions in the market? I’m thinking of changing him. His mouth has gotten too wide.
Do you know he told me a basket of 40 onions is now ₦5k? Something that I bought for ₦1k four months ago? I sha paid him ₦1,500 for everything. Do I look like someone he can cheat? He was begging me to add something to it, but I don’t pluck money from trees. He should make his gain from another person.
Meanwhile, my son complained of stomach pain today. Maybe he’ll believe me now when I tell him to stop pressing phone.
Wednesday
Dear Diary,
I called my daughter five times before she picked up today. I just think it’s funny how you dedicate nine months of your life, and almost see heaven’s gate during labour, only for your offspring to grow up and either forget you or like their father more.
What if I was dying? I only wanted to ask if she’s eaten today, but still. She even had the mind to say she was busy at work. Too busy for the person who brought you into this world? It is well. At least, I have other children.
Thursday
Dear Diary,
My family keeps testing me. Imagine my husband using his mouth to say, “I have a headache” just this evening. How many times do I need to tell these people that there’s power in the tongue?
That’s how yesterday, someone asked me if I was the last person on the ATM queue. I had to tell him I’ll never be the last in Jesus name. Now, my husband is claiming headache. Why not just put a sign on your head for witches to come and attack you, since you obviously want to die?
Friday
Dear Diary,
I’m rushing to join the vigil at church tonight, but I have to tell you how Mama Iyabo offended me today. I saw her on the road this evening and greeted her. I even asked of her children’s wellbeing. Do you know this woman didn’t ask about my children back?
I always pray for my enemies to reveal themselves. Mama Iyabo is obviously one of them.
I know where to direct my prayers tonight. There’s no peace for the wicked.
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.
This week’s #ZikokoWhatSheSaid subject is a 25-year-old Nigerian woman who regrets choosing popularity over real friendships. She talks about being bullied by her school friends and still seeing them in her dreams five years later.
Let’s begin in the present. How would you describe your friendships now?
Easier. I’m less concerned with the vain things that seemed important to teenage me. Like being “cool” or “popular”. I mean, I used to want to be friends with people who constantly shunned me so badly that I see them in my dreams almost every night till today.
How does that work?
I dream about being ill-treated by my friends from secondary school and university. Sometimes, I get both groups mixed up in the same dream. I don’t understand it because it’s not like I’m still caught up on my childhood friendships, but it must be stuck somewhere in my psyche.
Tell us about it, please
I was never any of my friends’ first choice. Like, I was in a group of friends who always hung out together. But you know how there are always besties within a friend group, and some people will just be closer to each other? No one was close to me. I was the loose end. I knew this because none of them ever really wanted to hang out with me alone.
Does any particular scenario jump out at you?
Many. Like when I threw my 16th birthday party and invited everyone in my class. But because a guy was having a random party the same day, only two people showed up for mine, and only to stay for an hour before going to his thing.
Another time, I visited one of my friends I really liked, and she was so uncomfortable with me in her house, she didn’t let me go to her room. We just sat together awkwardly at her dining table. It was so weird. We talked for a bit, she filled my slum book and then promised to come visit me at some point during the holiday but never did.
Meanwhile, whenever we were gisting among our larger group of friends, she and a closer friend would always talk about all the exciting things they did when they visited each other.
I think they just saw me as boring. I was smart, and in hindsight, they kept me around because I helped them pass. I could explain most subjects well. I also helped them cheat in exams. I’m not proud of that, but yeah. There might be other reasons, but that’s the only one that makes sense to me.
Did you ever confront them about how you felt?
No. I was scared to even face the idea of them pretending to like me. I was so socially awkward that I couldn’t even really have conversations with them.
Also, most of the shunning happened when we were in SS 3. It was like they decided since school was about to be over, there was no point talking to people they had no intention of keeping relationships with. True to that, after our graduation, I could only keep in touch with one person from secondary school. And she wasn’t even in my friend group.
They just ghosted?
Pretty much. Well, they went to schools in the UK or US. Meanwhile, I got into trouble after graduation. Boy trouble. So my parents punished me by making me attend a Nigerian university. That was the first major blocker because we made big plans to attend the same universities in the UK and US, cross the ocean semi-regularly to visit with each other and be friends for life. No plans were made to hang on to a loose end who didn’t manage to leave Nigeria. Only one or two of them are on social media, and they’re hardly ever online.
How do the others keep in touch?
I’m actually not sure. Once in a while, I see their IG stories of them meeting up in restaurants or at some Beyoncé concert. When I send DMs, it takes them forever to respond. And there’s only so much you can text about when you stop actually meeting up and being in each other’s faces regularly.
But didn’t you notice signs from this group of friends before SS 3?
There were some things.
The first time I sensed this behaviour, I was a little late for movie day in school. We were supposed to watch the original Superman as an example of classic Western cinema. When I walked in, I followed one of my other classmates I talked to once in a while to sit in the very first row. Just as I was about to sit, one of my “closer” friends called out and gestured for me to join them at the top row. I shook my head and said they shouldn’t worry. I didn’t want to go through the stress of walking all the way up the theatre steps when the lights were already off, and the movie was about to start.
I kid you not, they started treating me differently after that. This was sometime in JSS 2. I’d keep spaces for them in the dining hall, and they’d just ignore me and sit at another table. Then I’d have to shamefully stand and move to sit with them. They also used to shame me so badly for not knowing how to dance and being too flat to twerk. I think they just became more open about it in SS 3.
JSS 2 to SS 3? That’s a long grudge
I know it’s ridiculous, but it pops in and out of my mind today that if I’d just gone to sit with them that day, I would’ve had a more wholesome secondary school experience.
But the truth is, even in primary school and university, I struggled to keep friends. People just never listened to me when I talked. It was like I was never speaking loud enough or saying anything interesting enough.
How were your friendships in these cases?
I thought I’d made a best friend in primary school when she suddenly told me I should stop “clinging” to her. Another person accused me of follow follow and always doing whatever my friend told me to do.
Then I started making up stories to get my classmates’ attention. I’d tell them bogus stuff about seeing and talking to spirits. It worked. People gathered around me to hear my next outrageous story for the day, even though the attention never really extended to strong friendships. I was considered strange and not popular.
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Was it important for you to be popular?
I guess it was, to a certain extent. I just wanted to be liked, even if it was by one or two people. I envied those who had strong friendships, besties who were always willing to spend time with them even without being asked. I wanted to be someone’s first choice of friend, someone they’d call first to give their private gist. I always seemed to be the last person to know things in my friend groups.
Did your parents know about any of this?
Yes and no. I think they sensed some of it but didn’t take it too seriously. My dad was unbothered about my school life — all that mattered were my good grades — but he’d comment about how my friends were rude. I’d tell my mum a nice version of what was happening in school, so she really thought I had all these friends and was doing well. Although, she’d ask why I was always going to their houses and events but they never came to mine.
You said you also struggled in university?
Yes. I didn’t care as much, so making friends was a bit easier. The first close friend I made, we bonded over our music tastes. We both loved a couple of musicians my past friends considered me weird for liking. But then, our friendship clashed with me wanting to be friends with a certain group of people I considered cool. The funny thing was that this group liked her and was indifferent to me. They ended up absorbing her into their group and ignored me.
How did you take that?
It was so frustrating because she became well-liked by everyone in our course. Our closeness gave me a passenger-seat experience of what it was like to be truly liked. But we drifted apart sometime during 200 level, and I never made a friend as close as her until NYSC.
In those slightly scary dreams, I’m constantly walking into rooms and talking to these particular people. But they ignore me, and it’s like I’m not saying anything, then they walk away. Sometimes, I can’t even find my voice. I’m frustrated, but I can’t speak to them no matter how hard I try.
That’s a lot. I hope you’re okay
I am, really. I still only have acquaintances and work friends. But when I do some soul-searching, I see I was the problem. I always sought friendships with people who didn’t connect with me, no matter how hard I tried to connect with them. I often ignored people who naturally gravitated to me.
It’s come back to haunt me because most people my age are friends with people they’ve known for five to ten years, and sometimes all their lives. They’re wary of letting new people in, and I’m tired of settling for the outsider role. So maybe I’ve missed my “find a close-knit friend group” window.
Why do you think you ignored possibly true connections for empty friendships?
I honestly don’t know why I made those choices in school. Don’t we all wish we could redo our teenage years with the wisdom we gain as adults?
Life comes at you fast. You think you’re living your best baddie life until you’re packing flat slippers in your bag every time you go out in heels. If there’s one thing more difficult than being a bad bitch, it’s making sure the title sticks, even when everything around you is moving mad.
But bad bitches have to retire at some point — and maybe even go on to become rich aunties — and it’s okay. So if any of these eight things start happening to you, just know retirement is knocking.
Your uniform game becomes mid
Everyone knows the baddie uniform is ashawo clothes. It’s the constitution. Once you find yourself considering the pros and cons because of a tiny reason like cold weather, it’s all over.
You start catching feelings
So you’re now thinking of someone and smiling to yourself? You now re-read chats and giggle like a hopeless romantic? What happened to “Catch flights, not feelings”?
You become prone to body aches
What’s a bad bitch doing with back pain? Once you can no longer twerk for five minutes in peace without putting out your back and knees, know the end is near.
You start carrying big bags
The pillar of bad bitchery is carrying bags that’ll only fit a tube of lipgloss and a phone. Anything bigger is a sign of basicness.
You’re queuing to buy fuel
How many baddies do you see queueing at filling stations? None. Who cares if fuel is scarce? Baddies don’t queue. Period.
Broke people approach you now
As a baddie, your entire existence should tell broke people, “I’m not in your league”. Once they start having the confidence to approach you, something is wrong somewhere.
You start to think creamy pasta is overpriced
Sure, the economy is economying, but even though. Pasta is your identity. Sticking to it is the price to pay for bad bitchery. Once you start considering the price, you might as well throw yourself a bad bitch retirement party.
You have more than one child
One child, we can excuse. But two or more? How do you want to be a baddie when you’re prepping meals and solving quantitative reasoning? Just retire peacefully, dear. You’ve had a good run.
If you really deep it, Nigerian bosses and fathers are very alike. They’re both always right, expect you to know what they’re thinking and make the best decisions, or at least, that’s what they like to believe. The point is, they’re unquestionable.
Since your male boss and your father are basically the same people, there’ll be times when you can’t tell the difference between them. And in these eight scenarios, you can actually call your boss “Daddy”.
When you’re dating them
Whether you call them Daddy or Zaddy, same difference.
During morning devotion
If your workplace still does morning devotions in the 21st century, then it’s not out of place to call your oga “daddy”. He might even expect it. It’s giving, “God, bless our daddy today”.
When they ask you to
If you don’t know that some bosses actually order you to call them “daddy” or “uncle”, then you obviously haven’t heard of local government offices.
When you want to spice up a boring workday
So there’s no fuel to turn on the office generator, and everyone is dying of heat. Cracking jokes to lighten the mood is stale. Use the daddy card and see if everywhere won’t come alive. Even if all they do is stare at you in disbelief, alive is alive.
On payday
You’re an African child who’s been brought up to pay respect to your elders. So, how can you receive salary without telling your boss, “Thank you, Daddy”? Fix up.
When you’re tired of capitalism
Every day, you go, “I’m tired of work”, but you never really do anything to stop it. Call your boss “Daddy” today and see if that problem won’t be solved.
When they’re your actual daddy
Especially if you want to remind your colleagues your father owns the whole establishment. They better start kissing up to you if they like employment.
If it’s their name
If Nigerians can give their children names like Godsbattleaxe, what is “Daddy” that’s too much for them?
One day, you’re wondering where to find the shortest fuel queue. The next, central bank decides to change its currency, fix a short deadline on old notes, then goes ahead to make the new notes scarce and force everyone to go cashless.
I didn’t think it’d be an issue really, until my bank started acting like the weapons fashioned against me, and I couldn’t even go cashless in peace. So, I tried to survive on only ₦500 cash at handfor two weeks, and I’m still alive. It’s very likely you don’t have cash too — or you don’t have enough for the necessary small transactions — so let me teach you how to survive this period.
Stay at home
Whoever invented introverts knows ball. I’m not much of an outside person, but this period has further taught me the wisdom of sitting at home and eating whatever I have in my kitchen. If work makes you leave your house every day, I sympathise with you.
Do online transfers for EVERYTHING
When they work, at least. A friend told me how she transferred ₦300 to a pepper seller. Thing is, you won’t know who accepts transfers unless you ask. Ask that okada man for a transfer option today.
Become interested in fitfam
Do you really need to take a bus when you can walk? Do you actually crave shawarma, or are your village people just working overtime? You can always tell yourself you’re pursuing your fitness goals.
Sleep
You can’t spend money while you sleep.
Shop at supermarkets
Since the major problem is cash, do your shopping at places where POS transactions are readily available. Of course, your bank can still disgrace you, but what’s life without a little risk?
Date a POS attendant
Who knows, you might get free new notes as a relationship privilege. Plus, imagine dating one of the hottest set of people in Nigeria right now.
Just give up
Even if you survive the two-week mark, what’s the assurance that the cash situation would’ve improved by then? God, actually abeg.
You’ve come to the point where you’re tired of your relationship and you want to end it. Wait first. I’m not saying you shouldn’t break up with your partner. It’s just that these nine times may be inappropriate.
When NEPA takes light
The pain in people’s chests when NEPA takes light is one of the worst feelings in the world. It’s as if your entire world has crumbled. Why would you want to add to this by breaking up with them at that moment? After NEPA, you’re the next thing that lights up their world, and you want to take that away and leave them in complete darkness? Haba now.
After unnecessary billing
In the current Nigerian economy, anybody who receives any form of unnecessary billing needs to be cuddled and kissed, not broken up with. They’re already going through a lot. Just wait small.
When they’re being dragged on social media
They need all the emotional support they can get at this time, because people on the internet can be wicked. This isn’t the time to dump them; they need you.
After they find out you cheated on them
They’re already heartbroken. You want to add to it by breaking up with them? Don’t be a wicked person. Give them time to digest the information about your cheating first. There’s only so much a person can take at once.
When they have diarrhoea
Their stomach is in pain, don’t add their heart to it too. One organ after the other, please. Plus the bum bum tears, thanks the constant pooing, is bad enough. They don’t need to shed actual tears from heartbreak too.
After they receive bad news from the doctor
If you break up with them, the pain from the heartbreak will accelerate the sickness they just found out about, and that’s how they’ll die. Avoid being a killer by waiting a bit before you serve them breakfast.
When you’re about to japa
You want to leave them physically and emotionally? That’s not fair. Give them something to hold on to for a bit. Maybe when you travel, it’ll be easier for them to understand the breakup.
During elections
Do you want to be the reason they don’t vote? Because that’s what’ll happen if you break up with them around election time. They’ll stay home and cry instead of going out to choose a candidate who’ll make our country better. Or they’ll decide to vote for the wrong candidate as a way to punish you, and then an entire nation will suffer because you had to be a heartbreaker.
When they’re working out at the gym
Because they may drop a dumbell on your foot out of shock.
Aggressive production of local content, lower subscription rates, all to increase African pay-TV viewer numbers in a competitive market.
by Conrad Onyango, Bird Story Agency
Africa’s pay television industry is projected to add 16 million new viewers over the next five years as top players step up the battle for compelling and affordable local content.
Between 2022 and 2028, the continent’s pay-TV subscribers are projected to rise by 38% to 57 million, according to a new report by research firm, Digital TV research. Revenue growth, however, will be much lower.
Pay-TV revenues on the continent are forecast to reach US$6.44 billion by 2028, up by 29 per cent from US$4.99 billion in 2022, signalling that consumers are likely to benefit from falling monthly subscription rates.
South African Pan-African pay-TV giant MultiChoice (with 21 million viewers), China’s StarTimes (19 million) and France’s Canal+ (11 million) account for 89 per cent of all Africa’s pay-TV subscribers and are tipped to lead the fight for viewer numbers.
The market is also unlikely to see any new major entries.
“No new major players will start. Instead, these three operators will battle for supremacy – often by cutting prices,” said Principal Analyst at Digital TV Research, Simon Murray.
MultiChoice, in half-year results released November 2022, showed that its linear pay-TV subscriber base – measured on a 90-day active basis – rose by 1.0m (5%) to reach 22.1m viewers on the back of aggressive investment in local content production.
In 2022, the operator added two local channels and increased annual hours of local content in its library by 15 per cent to 73,000 hours. MultiChoice’s new local offering includes a new season of Big Brother Naija in Nigeria and two co-productions (Blood Psalms and Girl, Taken) in South Africa, with more in the pipeline.
“The group is currently producing the epic original drama series, Shaka Ilembe, which will be broadcast during 2023 and is already receiving significant international interest,” said MultiChoice in a statement.
Last year it also rolled out regional adaptations of popular telenovelas. For example, 1Magic’s The River was adapted for Kenya (as Kina) and Angola (O Rio). It said another seven local productions are in the pipeline.
In South Africa, MultiChoice has 9.1 million subscribers, with the rest of Africa sharing the remaining 13 million viewers.
StarTimes has also pushed local programming, with a commitment to collaborate with local content owners and producers across the continent, focusing mostly on the Kenya and Nigeria markets.
In December, it launched a 100-episode drama series, KIU, on its local content channel Rembo TV. Rembo, with a footprint that covers Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda, has a language policy requiring 60% of content to be in Kiswahili, 30% in English and 10% in vernacular languages.
“It is our commitment to continue supporting Kenya’s creative industry through commissioning more original productions as we seek to enrich our subscriber’s television viewing experience,” said StarTimes Chief Executive Officer Hanson Wang.
KIU production adds to StarTimes’ growing array of exclusive local content production and is advertised as featuring Kenya’s top casts, directors and scripts. Other exclusive programmes launched by StarTimes in 2022 include Kupatana and NIA.
The Canal+ strategy to boost local content has been through aggressive acquisition of major local film production studios and co-production agreements – or raising ownership stakes, including with its closest rival, MultiChoice.
In August 2022, Canal+ completed the acquisition of Rwanda’s first digital streaming platform, ZACU TV, culminating in the launch of a channel that airs 100% Kinyarwanda content. The French operator also bought out Nigeria’s most famous Nollywood movies producer Rok Studios, in 2019 and, from 2020, has been upping its shares at MultiChoice in tranches-growing it to a current 26%.
Industry analysts reckon operators will prioritise innovative ways of meeting dynamic viewer demands – simplicity, flexibility, customization, and convenience – to attract more eyeballs.
Secretary General of the Consumer Federation of Kenya, Stephen Mutoro, told bird in an interview that content, ease of access and affordability would drive more subscriptions.
“Competition would be welcome. Its not really competitive now. But content is king. MultiChoice enjoys the edge on exclusive popular content like EPL football. But then there are other consumers who enjoy non-football content offered by StarTimes and others,” said Mutoro.
These sentiments are also shared by analysts at Oxford Economics and Accenture in their joint survey covering Africa, which highlights local programming as a key differentiator in the industry across the globe.
“Research from Oxford Economics and Accenture finds that consumers value personalization and simplicity in their media experiences – and companies that innovate along these lines should emerge as winners,” said Oxford Economics Senior Research Manager, Thought Leadership, Sundus Alfi.
Pay-TV providers are not the only pan-Africa operators following these guidelines, however. Nascent video streaming services on the continent are tightening the competition for subscriber viewer numbers.
Dataxis, a global business intelligence and media company, projects that Africa’s video streaming market will have more than 15 million subscribers by 2026.
As in pay-TV, MultiChoice-run Showmax commands the largest number of African subscribers, at close to 2 million, followed closely by international player Netflix, with 1.5 million users. These players, too, are investing significantly in local content production.
The resulting stiff competition is expected to enhance the quality and exclusivity of content as well as tariff structures, to the benefit of viewers – with Mutoro singling out pay-TV players as having the upper edge on both access and reliability, over streaming counterparts.
“Pay-TV platforms use gadgets with reliable power supply. Streaming use narrow screens, such as phones, that are susceptible to running out of power. In the peri-urban and rural areas, access to streaming is impossible, over unreliable and expensive data bundles,” Mutoro explained.
If you’ve ever wondered what goes on in a Christian couples group chat, wonder no more. I’m only too happy to share. As the only member of the married geng at Zikoko, this was bound to happen sooner or later.
These are eight things you’ll typically find in these group chats.
Stories, many stories
I don’t know who’s in charge of making up stories about other people’s relationships to use as case studies on these groups, but I have to say, they’re very creative. Of course, the stories are either forwarded or end with “copied”.
Relationship advice
It wouldn’t be a Christian couples group if someone didn’t send unsolicited advice — even confusing ones.
Forwarded videos
In case you didn’t take the time to read the stories and relationship advice, you might as well finish your data on the videos that say the exact same thing.
The occasional shade throwing
How do you acknowledge the sometimes problematic nature of the other gender in a somewhat respectful, church-approved way? You throw shade.
BCs from all walks of life
Did you think it’s only marriage matters they’d talk about there? LOL. And there I was thinking my Nigerian mother sends too many unrelated broadcast messages.
Wedding anniversaries and birthdays
I can’t share screenshots for obvious reasons, but best believe there’s someone celebrating something every other day.
Daily prayers
Because the devil walks around like a roaring lion, and prayer is needed to keep him at bay. And with how Nigeria is going, if there’s any time we need God’s intervention, it’s now.
Sweet gist
I can’t even lie. The group chat is almost always popping with gist and funny Q/A sessions. Because if there’s one thing married people love, it’s gist.
It’s good to be adventurous with food, but Nigerians make some choices that should be considered a jailable crime. These ten things are the worst of them all.
Drinking garri with milk
I need the person who started this crime to explain what they were thinking. In what way is garri and milk a good combination? Is it cereal? (Anyone who just answered yes deserves punishment). The real criminals are those who do it with Ijebu garri.
Eating suya in the afternoon
Check the Nigerian constitution, and you’ll see it written there that suya must be made and eaten at night because “night” is the key ingredient. If you ever eat it in the morning or afternoon, you’re committing a federal crime, and you deserved to be flogged.
Saying Lagos bole is better than PH bole
First of all, this is just complete self-deceit. How can you see PH Bole in all its juicy gloriousness, with the fish, pepper sauce, soft ponmo etc., and say boring Lagos Bole is better? Don’t say it outside, or they’ll lock you up.
Taking cereal with hot water
Only babies are exempted from this because they have to eat soggy nonsense. They don’t have teeth. But as a grown adult without teeth problems, you should be deployed into the Nigerian army to eat corn and garri since you don’t appreciate good food.
Eating swallow with cutlery
Nigeria gained independence from the British in 1960. This means we no longer have to do things the way the colonisers taught us. So please, drop that fork and use your hand to eat that eba. If you don’t, it means you’re a coloniser and we’ll have to lock you up.
People who swallow swallow
If you swallow eba, amala, fufu, pounded yam or any other swallow, without chewing, you’re a cultist or hired assassin and that’s why you should be put in jail. You plus the person who named these foods “swallow” when they’re clearly meant to be chewed. We need a petition to change the name to “chewers”, please.
Eating anything that’s not rice and stew on Sunday
Who do you think you are, trying to break a lifelong tradition of eating rice and stew on a Sunday? Rice and stew was ordained as the traditional meal for Sunday lunch since before our parents were born. If you eat anything else, you’re dishonouring tradition, and the gods will flog you when you’re asleep at night.
Every week, Zikoko will share the hustle stories of Nigerians making it big in and out of the country. With each story, we’ll ask one crucial question in several ways: “How you do am?”
Jemima Osunde is a 26-year-old physiotherapist and actress. Fed up with the chaos of medical school, Jemima decided to pursue acting on the side. She called her big break pure luck, but through her story, we found out what it’s like to hustle as a newbiein Nollywood.
Jemima Osunde – Hustleprint
So Jemima, how did you do it?
I always tell people acting happened to me randomly. Physiotherapy was what I wanted to do. Things started in my first year at UNILAG in 2013. Post-JAMB messed up my grades, so I took a diploma program to get into 200 level the next year. Anyone who knows what UNILAG’s diploma is like knows it can be chaotic.
How chaotic was it, on a scale of 1-10?
Hmm. We’d be like 200 in one hall with no power. Lecturers would yell at the top of their lungs at the front of the hall, doing their best, but only the first 50 people could hear them. The rest of us were just there to sign attendance and fulfil all righteousness by being there.
So it broke the scale?
LOL. Yeah.
I did that for a few weeks and knew it couldn’t be my life for the rest of the year. That Christmas, I was at an uncle’s party, and we talked about how school was going. He suggested I consider acting since I was always talking everyone’s ear off. He felt it was a good way to make some money or just occupy my time.
What did you think?
It made sense actually. His words got stuck in my head for weeks. And after my next horrible day at school, I decided to experiment with acting while I was trying to get into the College of Medicine for my second year at UNILAG.
What was the first thing you did while experimenting?
I started following Nigerian production houses on social media and discovered that they usually posted open audition calls. It just made sense to me that to start acting I had to audition for roles, so I followed everyone from Africa Magic to EbonyLife. I followed producers too; from one producer’s page, I’d find another to follow.
Then, I followed young actors of that period. When I started, there was Olumide Oworu, Owumi Ugbeye who’d been on MTV Shuga — I just kept following everybody so I’d see every audition notice going out. Even though I didn’t immediately get roles, I learnt a lot from attending auditions and mingling with other aspiring actors who knew more than me. They’d give me the gist on what to do, what to look out for, who to meet and so on.
How did all of that play out in landing your first role?
I saw an audition notice for Tinsel in 2013. I didn’t get the part, but I got called back for Africa Magic Original Films [AMOF].
When I saw the email, I actually thought it was a scam because I hadn’t heard of AMOF or attended an audition for it. I had to call one of my uncles in the industry to verify. Then I had my mum come with me for the first few reads — till today, crew members at different sets still ask me about her.
I worked on five or six AMOFs. And through them, I got on The Johnsons, guest-starring in a few episodes as the character, Abby. These first few acting experiences were an exciting adventure for my mum and I. My parents used to drive me around to set locations.
What would you consider your big break into the acting industry?
MTV Shuga in 2014. I was 18 at the time so bagging my role as Leila on a show that big at the beginning of my career was significant for me.
How did that big break happen?
One of the actresses I followed at the start of my career and I were working on a film together. In passing, I said I really liked her character on MTV Shuga, and it’d be nice if it had a new character I could play. Like two days later, she texted about an audition and asked me to send my details to an email address. I did that, got a reply and went in for a reading. In a matter of three or four days, I was cast as Leila.
Just like that? Did you have any formal training as an actor?
No. Honestly, I was lucky.
That’s pretty much how things started for me. I only had to do three or four open auditions after Shuga.
Wait first. How was school going?
For some reason, most of my auditions were in Surulere, Lagos, so it wasn’t hard to go for them from the College of Medicine. Max, one bus, one okada, and I’d be at any casting.
It sounds like you were living a soft life
LOL. Not on the days I had to find my way to Ikeja or Lekki though. I’d get to Ojuelegba underbridge and be clueless. Or sit in a bus and wait for it to get full before my 10 a.m. call. That’s when I started to get frustrated. I had to beg my parents to drive me to auditions until I could afford to take Uber.
What’s the average amount of time you’d spend on set?
For movies, two weeks at most, and I’d be on set ten out of 14 days. We’d shoot until we stopped, which meant several hours of shooting per day.
Only Shuga took longer than a month to shoot. I was in one season each, on the Naija version and on Down South. I was on set every other day for three weeks for the first, and in Jo’burg for five to six weeks for the second.
How did things change after Shuga?
I kept grinding in between filming. I had a 9-to-5 as a researcher at One Music, and I was still a student at the College of Medicine. It was really hard to keep up. I was also just figuring out my life as a teenager, making friends — which didn’t quite work out because I don’t have many friends. Then I was always sending emails and DMs to every big director and producer I admired, even Shonda Rhimes!
But I got to a point where people would send me emails asking me to audition. A few months after we finished shooting Shuga, one of the producers cast me in her short film. Some months after that, I got calls from people I’d worked with on the set or I’d emailed earlier, who realised they had a role I was a good fit for.
I moved from needing to attend open auditions to being invited for table reads or screen tests. Instead of walking in with 500 people hoping to get a role, I scaled through to a more selected phase with maybe 20 people.
Were the chances of getting a role much higher in a table read or screen test?
Pretty much, but other upcoming actors get this access too. That makes it more competitive because you have to show what makes you special. Like why should it be Jemima and not the 20 other girls they know could play the character well too?
And did you have an answer to that?
For me, it was talking to the right people. People you work with mention your name in the right rooms.
Every time I got on set, I made sure I interacted with the crew members, not just the actors. There’s a vast amount of knowledge you can get from them because production typically uses the same crew. These people have gone from one project to another amassing experience. I always stress them out with questions about things like cameras and lenses. And that’s one way to get informal training.
Imagine being on a set with Kate Henshaw or Stella Damasus and not learning anything. I don’t have any shame in asking for help when I can’t connect with a character, for example. I remember meeting Adesua (Etomi-Wellington) on the set of MTV Shuga. We instantly clicked, and she’s been a strong support system ever since. She saw I was a young girl just trying to navigate the industry and could sense my silent cry for guidance, so she took me under her wing.
She was fairly new to Nollywood, but she’d been doing theatre and a bunch of creative projects in the UK. She’d ask things like, “What do you think should be a priority at the beginning of your career?” “What are you trying to do?” and just genuinely be a friend I can call anytime. It’s necessary to surround yourself with good people who’ll keep you grounded and remind you of your purpose even when you forget. That’s who she is to me. Our relationship has just evolved and metamorphosed into many different things over the years.
I don’t think I could’ve come this far without the older women in the industry TBH. They tell you what they went through in old Nollywood and ways to skip all the stress.
And younger actresses?
There’s a bunch of us that know we fall into the same criteria. If they’re not casting me then it’s Sharon Ooja, Tomike Alayande, Ini Dima-Okojie or maybe Efe Irele and a couple of others. It’s an unspoken thing, but we know ourselves. When a job comes, and one person isn’t available or interested, we refer each other.
How do you manage the competition since you all fall into the same category?
Being friends helps. My girls know how to stick together. And to make sure no one is getting the short end of the stick when jobs come. We know that for certain gigs within a certain duration, there’s a flat rate. No one goes below it. We basically set the standard for ourselves.
Beyond networking, what skills did you have to pick up fast as your career took off with MTV Shuga?
Omo, so many things. I didn’t get a representative until 2020, so I had to learn how to multitask on a large scale. Sometimes, I had classes from 8 a.m. to 1 p.m., with a call time at 2 p.m. and Lagos traffic to beat. So if I allocate one hour to something, and someone shows up 30 minutes late, that’s not my business. In my head, I have 30 minutes left. Till today, I’m still my own manager.
With the way things were going, why not just focus on acting?
In Nigeria, acting can’t be the only thing you do for income and fulfilment. How many good films do we make in a year compared to the number of actors we have? You can’t be busy from January to December.
Fair point
Yeah. Getting to MTV Shuga took a year. For me, it didn’t feel like such a long time because school kept me busy. If acting were all I had, that would’ve been difficult.
What happens when absolutely nothing works?
That happened to me during the pandemic. I had to find ways to keep myself busy. That’s why I started a music trivia game on Instagram. But I also tried to get roles on TV series so I could shoot weekly, like a monthly subscription to being an actress.
Let’s move to the medical side of things. Are you currently practising?
Not for the past two months. I finished my NYSC in the first quarter of 2022 and took a break. Medical work in Nigeria is the ghetto. If you know people in the medical field, check up on them. Na them need mental help pass.
LOL. What’s doing them?
It’s so much work for such little pay and zero recognition. I’m at the point where I want to do it voluntarily, pick a few hospitals I’ll work at on the days I’m not filming. But for now, I’m on a break.
I’m curious: how has being a health worker made you a better actress?
Outside handling financial stress, the toughest part of being a health worker is seeing people die every day. Somehow, that’s helped me get into character without being so attached to the trauma I play, since it’s all fiction. It’s much more difficult when you actually know the person in reality.
And how does it work the other way around?
I’ve never thought about that. I think acting makes me a lot more sensitive and empathetic. Treating someone is very different from being able to become that person in your head and possibly picture your life like that.
Best in acting
LOL. So even when I want to lose my cool with their family members — because patients are never really the issue — I can somehow put myself in their shoes. I guess that’s one of the ways being an actress helps my medical career.
How do you manage to keep both careers apart?
I don’t keep them apart o. My self-given nickname is “one true self”. I’m an acting physiotherapist, doctor-actress, health worker-entertainer, whatever version people prefer. I’m one person living the best of both worlds, that’s what makes me who I am. I’m currently doing a Master’s in Public Health, and people like to ask me what I need it for. I don’t have an answer for them. They should just watch and see.
And how do you handle people recognising you when you’re in hospital mode?
I actually prefer when people recognise me in the hospital than outside, on the streets, in the supermarket. It helps me cheer my patients up. It makes it easier to find a common ground with them, which is important in my line of health work. Apart from that, I’m a very public but private person. You’ll see me banter a lot on Twitter, or post random things when I’m in my lover girl stage, but I’m very deliberate with the details I share.
What’s a trick every newbie needs to learn in the film industry?
Characters become more challenging when you realise they’re not fictional. Anyone can read a script and have a flow. But sometimes, you have to create a backstory that helps you connect more with the character. That’s not something on a script. And that’s what some directors tell you to do, to actually become a character.
What were some roles that put you to the test?
There was Nkem, the sex worker I played in The Delivery Boy in 2018. But one of the toughest characters I’ve played is Ranti from Rumour Has It in 2016. The babe was mean and controversial. I couldn’t play her until I could come up with a reason why someone could deliberately publish horrible stuff about their friends on a blog. Though there’s no justifiable reason to hurt people, giving her a defendable backstory helped me embody her character better. And that process makes it easier to get into challenging roles.
I have to ask: what does it take to get to the level you’re at in the industry?
Quality over quantity of films you shoot. And that’s why you need an extra source of income. But the best advice I received as a newbie was, “Never be afraid to take multiple cuts.” Because even when you think it’s perfect, a scene can always be better.
How do you know when to stop then?
Sometimes, you just need to take multiple cuts to give the director different portrayal versions to choose from. You know when to stop by reading the room. People on set — the director, cinematographer, DOP — are very honest. If the cut is just there, it’d show on their faces. Or you could get a standing ovation because the take was just that good. You don’t have to wait for an ovation, but make sure everyone is satisfied before you stop. They’d even be the ones to reassure you that you don’t need another take.
They may deny it, but managers just love to give certain people almost all the work, as if they’re the only staff in the entire office. And it doesn’t matter whether it’s part of their job description or not.
If this is you and you’re sick of it, do these things to make sure your manager stops now.
Use jazz
Tell your babalawo to do an incantation that’ll erase your name from your boss’ memory every time they’re looking for someone to assign work to. The jazz has to be done well, if not they’ll also forget your name when it’s time for promotion.
Do a terrible job
Any time they give you work, do a terrible job. Do the opposite of what they ask, submit late, submit incomplete work, act like you didn’t get the assignment, etc. Eventually, they’ll get frustrated. You may get fired sha, so be ready for that too.
Quit
This may be the most efficient way to get your boss to forget about you. If you’re not an employee of the company, they can’t give you work.
Beg them to leave you alone
Be dramatic about it. Go down on your knees or roll on the floor and cry. They need to know how bad it is. Maybe then they’ll leave you alone.
Give them back their work
When they give you the work, tell them you need their help because you can’t understand it. Act confused until they do it themselves or assign it to someone else. Do this consistently, and they’ll stop thinking about you when it’s time to assign a task. Or they’ll see you as incompetent and fire you.
Air their life
When they text or call you for work, don’t answer. Air them every single time and say you didn’t see the call or message.
Remind them your colleague is less busy
Sometimes, they forget there are other employees in the company, so they need to be reminded. Tell them Chidozie has been pressing phone since morning while you’ve been doing ten million things.
Report them to your Nigerian mother
Nigerian mothers don’t like seeing their children stressed (except they’re the ones doing the stressing). If your mother finds out about your boss, she’d be quick to call and change it for them. They’ll never call your name again.
African music is witnessing explosive growth on YouTube, in a marked departure from the continent’s past struggle to gain a foothold in the global scene.
by Seth Onyango, Bird Story Agency
More African hits are reverberating far beyond the continent’s borders, amplified by the global music reach on YouTube and other streaming services. Growing smartphone adoption and affordable and fast internet in Africa also drive the local consumption of music on YouTube. From the catchy Afrobeats and soulful sounds of Afro-soul to the energetic rhythms of Afropop and the traditional melodies of African folk, the diversity of African music is captivating listeners worldwide.
To most African musicians, YouTube has revolutionised how music is consumed, providing a platform for independent, undiscovered African artists to reach a global audience and gain success without the need for major record labels. As more people turn to YouTube for entertainment and to watch virtual concerts, subscriber traffic has increased steadily. African music is quickly rising among the most-viewed and most streamed. Here are some of the most viewed songs by African artists on YouTube at the time of writing.
Jerusalema by Master KG –– 539 million views
Jerusalema is breaking records as the most viewed African music video on YouTube, with an impressive 539 million views. The track, released in November 2019, received a music video in December.
Magic in the Air by Magic System ft Choki ––405 million views
Magic in the Air is a mesmerising hit single released in 2014. With over 400 million views, it’s not just the most-viewed West African music video on YouTube, it’s also the second-most-viewed African. This infectious track is sure to get you moving and singing along.
Love Nwantiti Rmx. by CKay –– 346 million views
Love Nwantiti is a standout track from Ckay’s 8-track EP, CKay the First. Its addictive rhythms and melodies earned it a remix with Afro-pop star, Joeboy, and Ghanaian singer, Kuami Eugene, released in 2020. The revamped version became a global sensation thanks to its viral success on TikTok.
Calm Down by Rema –– 318 million views
Rema’s Calm Down has cemented its place as one of the highest-viewed Afrobeats music videos on YouTube, surpassing the impressive 300 million views mark. This hit single has continued to soar to new heights, further solidifying Rema’s status as a world-class artist. He recently teamed up with international pop sensation Selena Gomez on a remix of the club banger, which already has 210 million views.
On the Low by Burna Boy –– 310 million views
On the Low by Burna Boy has achieved the impressive feat of accumulating over 300 million views on YouTube, making it one of the few African songs to reach this milestone. The track was released on November 16, 2018, combining Afrobeat and dancehall elements. Produced by Kel P, this mid-tempo love song has been praised for its smooth, infectious sound.
Baby’s on Fire by Die Antwoord –– 266 million views
Baby’s on Fire has captivated audiences worldwide, accumulating over 266 million views on YouTube and solidifying its place as the second most-watched South African music video on Youtube after Jerusalema.
Fall by Davido –– 254 million views
Fall has achieved tremendous success with over 200 million views on YouTube and Gold certification in the United States and Canada. The song’s popularity has helped to elevate the Nigerian singer’s international profile and boost even more sales.
Ye by Burna Boy –– 219 million views
Nigerian singer, Burna Boy, unleashed a fiery and infectious anthem with Ye, a standout track from his critically acclaimed third studio album, Outside. Released on August 6th, 2018, Ye quickly rose to the top of the Nigerian charts and has become one of the most-watched African songs on YouTube. Its dynamic blend of Afrobeat and hip hop, paired with Burna Boy’s commanding vocals and catchy hooks, make it a must-listen for fans of contemporary African music.
Joro by Wizkid –– 218 million views
Wizkid has achieved massive success on YouTube with his hit song, Joro, which has garnered over 200 million views and counting.
Way Maker by Sinach –– 217 million views
The hit gospel song, Way Maker, has made a huge impact on YouTube, racking up over 200 million views and securing its place as the most-watched African female video of all time. With its uplifting message and powerful vocals, it’s no surprise Way Maker has resonated with audiences across the globe.
Valentine’s Day is less than three weeks away, and that’s why you should start dropping hints to your partner, in case your wishlist needs to be shipped from abroad. Here’s how to do this successfully.
Talk about how someone has it
Say things like, “Obinna’s partner just got him that new drone, and it’s so mad! Imagine getting such a gift, I’d cry.”
Mention it on social media
Find a post of your gift and repost it with a caption like, “This dress is so gorgeous” or “I’d do anything to get a washing machine like this.”
Randomly fit it into sentences
Even if it doesn’t make sense, just do it so it can implant in their brains. “I was walking down the road and I saw a Rolex as big as a bird”. They’ll say “Huh? Did you say Rolex?” Deny it with your full chest. But keep doing this and I promise they’ll get the hint.
Send them things related to what you want
If you want a new car, send them funny memes about people getting new cars. Send links to articles about the car and say, “Do you know that xxx car can do xxx?” Send them videos of the car being driven and articles on the danger of public transport or something like that. Flood them until you see the car in your driveway.
“Accidentally” send a picture of the gift to them
The trick here is to send them a picture or video of the gift you want with a caption like, “These shoes would look so nice on me”. Then tell them it was a mistake, that you wanted to send it to your best friend.
Involve your best friend
If your partner has never asked your best friend what gift you want, you need to start reconsidering the relationship. But just in case they’re not smart enough to ask, let your best friend bring it up to them in a subtle manner. Like getting them to talk about the gym then bringing up how you’ve wanted the latest gym shoes by so and so brand forever.
Use hypothetical situations
Say things like, “If I decide to start getting my life together, the first thing I’d do is get an iPad. It would make my life so much easier.” Do this, and on Valentine’s day, a dispatch rider will be dropping off an iPad at your house/office… only if your partner has money sha.
Use it against them
For example, when they complain that you go out too much, say, “If I had a PS5 now, I’d be indoors all the time, playing games. But since I don’t have that, I have to find other ways to relax after all the work stress.”
Tell them straight up
They may be too oblivious to notice the hints you’re dropping, so the best thing to do to make sure you get the gift you want is to tell them directly. You can even tell them where to get it.
All in all, If your partner doesn’t know what gift you want for Valentine’s day by now, they deserve to be flogged with koboko dipped in pepper and Buhari’s wickedness.
Content creators from Kenya, Nigeria and South Africa dominated the inaugural TikTok Top Content Creators Awards 2022.
by Bird Story Agency
Former rugby player turned food vlogger, Dennis Ombachi AKA @theroamingchef, emerged victorious at the inaugural TikTok Top Creator 2022 Awards. The Kenyan content creator, known for his culinary exploits, took home the Africa Winner award with Nigerian comedian, Charity Ekezie (@charityekezie), as the runner-up.
The TikTok Top Content Creators Awards took place in Nairobi and saw winners walk away with #TopCreator2022 trophies across various categories. The ceremony followed a highly competitive, eight-day-long public voting process on the popular social app. According to a statement by TikTok Africa, the inaugural award “recognises and awards content creators across Sub-Saharan Africa for the immense talent and creativity they brought to the platform in the past year.”
Boniswa Sidwaba, Head of Content Programming for TikTok in Sub-Saharan Africa, explained that the award aims to recognise and reward content creators for their positive impact on the platform’s users. “With these inaugural awards, TikTok aims to give creators in Sub-Saharan Africa the recognition they deserve and to encourage them to tell the African story while spreading joy at all times”.
Dancing queen, Ifeoma Efiokwu, @e4ma on TikTok, won for the West Africa region, with Maduakor Faustina Chisom (@berby_picxy) as her runner-up. South Africa dominated the southern Africa region, with @Pilot_onthegram, an aviation and lifestyle content creator and the first South African pilot to be verified on TikTok. Lindokhule Khoza @.lindokuhle_khoza was her runner-up.
Kenyan beauty enthusiasts, Natasha Gwal @natasha_gwal and @beautyby.nita, were the winner and first runner-up for the East African category. Roy Kanyi, a Kenyan content creator, considers the awards a motivating development for creators like himself. “Many will be more committed to the platform because the award confirms it cares for its creators and pushes for networking among them, which of course, comes with its share of benefits”.
With the growth of the social media market, TikTok continues to appeal to audiences from across the continent. According to Dataxis, a digital data hub, TikTok built a 31.9% market share within Nigeria by 2020. The popularity of the platform on the continent has prompted TikTok to invest further in its growing customer base. In December 2022, TikTok Africa collaborated with Ghana to put together one of the biggest Afrobeats music festivals in Black Star Square, Accra.
The platform’s African content creators are also seeing increasing demand for their creative skills. Fintech and marketing agencies are leveraging their experience to create and amplify marketing campaigns. According to Forbes Africa, TikTok has an advertising reach of 28.9 million users in northern Africa and 7.9 million in southern Africa, as of 2021. While the platform has started paying creators through its Creator Fund, most use other means to make money.
“Lately, creators are actively approaching corporate organisations. But only as long as the product and services to be marketed are consistent with the creator’s content”. Nkululeko Dladla, a South African-based social commerce specialist, added that because TikTok is visually driven, it is more appealing when showcasing products and services. “In South Africa, TikTok can be a powerful tool for fintechs to reach a younger, more digitally savvy audience”.
It’s the second Tuesday of the month, when the association of Nigerian witches have their monthly meetings. At these meetings, they get updates on the goals set the previous month, address concerns and come up with new ways to cause chaos. These meetings are from 1 – 2 a.m., and there’s always plenty food involved.
The five heads of the association are Shege, Village People, Semo, Nigerian Aunties and Femi. They each handle special departments.
Shege: Good midnight, everyone. Welcome to the first monthly meeting of the ANW in the year 2023.
*Everyone choruses “Good midnight”*
Shege: On the agenda today, we have:
Change of names
Goals for the month
Setbacks
Village people: Femi, did you bring akara as I asked?
Femi: No. I was busy with work.
Village people: How does work affect you conjuring food? It would literally have taken five seconds.
Femi: No vex.
Village people: I was really looking forward to…
Shege: It’s enough! Village people, you like food too much. Eat what’s available; there are plenty of other options. Have you tried my spaghetti?
Anyway, moving on to the first item on the agenda. Change of names. What’s the problem?
Semo: Why do I have to be called semo?
Shege: Because people hate you so much, and everyone here is named after someone or something people hate.
Femi: Wait, so why am I called Femi?
Village people: Are you really asking? Femis are the most wicked among all the Yoruba men. Their method of heartbreak will leave you in tears for years. Out of five people, four have been served breakfast by a Femi.
Femi: Where are you getting these statistics?
Village people: Trust me, I know.
Semo: Okay, but Semo doesn’t get that much hate, so I think we should change my name.
Femi: Is that a joke? Have you seen the way Semo is dragged on and offline? Bro, they call it trash and say it tastes like ass.
*Semo sighs*
Nigerian aunties: But many Nigerian aunties are loved.
Shege: How many? With all the fat-shaming, marriage pressure, condescending comments and never minding their businesses, who is loving them? The nice ones aren’t called Nigerian aunties. They’re either “rich auntie” or just “auntie”.
*Nigerian auntie rolls her eyes*
Shege: So we’re all good with names?
*Everyone mutters*
Shege: Good. On to the next. Goals for the month. Femi, over to you.
Femi: Okay so, Semo, your goal this month is to get more weddings to serve semo and other trash foods: fufu, white rice and stew, pap and hard ponmo. The goal is for people to be miserable at these weddings, especially those who weren’t invited.
Semo: How is this a way of torturing people?
Femi: Nigerians like food and enjoyment. Once you ruin that for them, they’ll start shedding tears. Oh, add ogbono soup to the list.
Semo: Okay.
Femi: Village people, your job this month is to make sure people don’t hear about their visas till just before they’re supposed to travel.
Village people: Why not just outrightly deny them the visa?
Shege: That’s not fun or creative enough. When they’re waiting for the visa, and it hasn’t been denied yet, they’re overthinking, worrying, crying almost every day and barely sleeping. THAT’s how to be wicked to someone.
Village people: Oya, let’s do this.
Nigerian auntie: Shege, you sabi this thing well.
Femi: Shege, you have three goals:
Make sure people always have problems with their network
Make sure people’s bank apps frustrate them five times before working
Drink up people’s data every two days.
Shege: Why is my own more than the others?
Femi: Have you heard your name? Shege. Your job is to constantly put people in extreme and unpleasant situations. Besides, you’re not doing it alone. You all have team members working. You can do this.
Shege: Na wa. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, I guess.
Femi: Nigerian auntie, I need you to get as many Gen Z children into trouble with their parents this month. Report every single thing they do, down to what they post on social media. We need them annoyed and frustrated.
Nigerian auntie: Let’s goooo.
Femi: And as for me, my job is to break as many Edo women’s hearts as possible.
Semo: Ah! Edo women? Is that even possible?
Shege: Even me, I’m afraid of Edo women. Their own wickedness pass our own sef
Femi: It’s going to be tough, but no heartbreak is too big a challenge for Femi.
Shege: Can’t wait to hear about it at next month’s meeting.
Semo: Moving on. I’ll be addressing the setbacks. Our main setback is using manual brooms. They’re slow and barely work. We were supposed to buy electric brooms last month, but the dollar rate has gone so high, we can’t afford them.
Nigerian auntie: Honestly, Buhari is making things hard for us.
Femi: Please, make sure you vote during these elections o. Has everybody collected their PVCs?
*Everyone choruses yes*
Semo: Maybe next month we’ll be able to buy the electric brooms.
Village people: But even when we buy the brooms, where do we want to find fuel?
Semo: When the time comes, we’ll figure it out.
Shege: Okay, is there anything else we need to talk about?
*Everyone choruses no*
Shege: Alright then, the meeting is adjourned. Everyone fly back home fast before they notice you’re gone.
So you finally found a way to get your work crush to promote you from colleague to work wife/husband, but like a typical Oliver Twist, you want more.
TBH, I’m not judging. Anyone can catch feelings. Obviously, you have, and now, you want to leave the work-bae zone. Let me help you.
Find them on social media
Many people block their coworkers on social media, so you’ll have to put on your best Fashola Holmes impression. If that fails, find a way to get them to give you their WhatsApp number, then send them memes every day. They’ll fall in love with how funny you are.
Buy them food
Food is the way to everyone’s heart. But don’t buy them food only at work. Invite them out.
Move in close to them
If they’re proving stubborn, get their house address from HR and move in right next to them. Now, you won’t just be in their faces from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. anymore.
Oh. Hi! Didn’t see you there
Make sure they see you everywhere
Since you now know their address, set up billboards with your face on them around the route they take to work daily. Buy them mugs with your face on them too. By the time they see you every day, the feelings will be activated.
Make their significant other disappear
Arrange for their partner to be kidnapped by ungun known men. Then be a shoulder to lean on when they cry to you about it at work. It’s the price to pay for love.
Or make the partner cheat
If you don’t want to go as far as kidnapping, find a way to make your work spouse’s partner cheat then show them the evidence. Of course, you’ll also be there to help them heal and forget the heartbreak.
Carry their picture to the mountain
If you’re religious, then you should know prayer works. Take their picture to a mountain, preferably in the dead of night with only a white wrapper around you. The white colour will catch the attention of the spirits, and they’ll answer you immediately.
Resign from your workplace
Maybe the reason they’ve not promoted you to actual spouse is simply because they don’t want to date their coworker. Resign and that problem is solved.
Or make them lose their job
The point is you won’t be working in the same place anymore. The end justifies the means.
A Nigerian’s brain is filled with many concerns fighting for attention. Thoughts like, “Where do I find the shortest queue for fuel today?” or “Which network provider won’t disgrace me today?”
But the one you’re guaranteed to find close to the top is, “Where can I keep my money so bank charges, exchange rate, rats and snakes don’t send me back to my village?”
Where do Nigerians keep their money? We’ve ranked all eight spots.
8. Nigerian mother
If you’re still keeping money with your Nigerian mother, after all she used your eyes to see when you were younger, you’re very brave. Sure, mothers are great at saving things — remember the nylon bag filled with other nylon bags? — and we’re not saying you won’t get your money back, but if she “borrows” it, how do you ask for it back? Are you ready for a how “she carried you for nine months” reminder?
7. Thrift savings, AKA Ajo or Esusu
I get the idea behind ajo, and it’s not bad. You agree with a group of people to put your money together, and then each person “collects” everyone’s money when it’s their turn. It makes sense if you don’t trust yourself not to finish all your money on shawarma, but what if one person decides to pack everyone’s money and run away before paying their share? If it can happen to these people, it can happen to you. Issa no for me.
6. Under your bed or pillow
There’s nothing better than sleeping on money, literally; at least you know where your money is. But have you met some rats? In case you don’t know, there are demon rats who’d leave your kitchen and prefer to eat certificates and cash. Just ask our politicians.
5. Piggy banks, AKA kolo
Kolos only work when you’re highly self-disciplined, or you’d just find yourself using broom to remove the ₦1k you dropped there the night before.
4. Regular banks
You’ll understand why I’m differentiating the banks later on in this list, but here, I’m referring to the traditional commercial banks where you’ll open a “savings” account with ₦10k and come back to a balance of ₦9,650 in a matter of minutes. The ones that’ll charge “ATM maintenance” fees but will still ask you to wait 24 working days to reverse an ATM dispense error. The good thing is, you don’t have to keep your money in cash, and people can easily send you urgent ₦2k.
3. The stock market
You can make a sizeable profit when you keep your money in stocks, but you can also wake up tomorrow and see that all your life savings has vanished. It’s not your village people. The stock market is just volatile. Put some of your money there, not all biko.
2. Foreign currency
With the naira’s epileptic state, it only makes sense to want to keep your money in other currencies like the dollar. This would have been number one, but how many people even have access to dollar investments?
1. Digital banks
Digital banks are like mobile banks, but without the plenty charges. At least with these ones, what you put inside is what you’ll meet, plus jara.
ALAT by Wema, Nigeria’s leading digital bank, offers multiple savings features which customers can choose from and grow their finances by earning up to 10% interest on money saved.
Even if you want to spend your money — because problem no dey finish — their Spend and Save feature allows you to automatically save a percentage of the transaction amount on ALAT and earn interest on your savings. You can also save in dollars with the Dollar Savings feature. Even if it’s ajo you want to do, the Rotating Savings feature offers a transparent collective savings process for you and up to 12 friends.
Make savings and investment a lifestyle with ALAT. Check out their website for more information on the available savings features, and get started today.
Bukka, Restaurant and Eatery have died. In the afterlife, they go before the god of enjoyment to make a case for why they should go to heaven.
Enjoyment: Angel Chukwudi, who’s going first?
Angel Chukwudi: My Lord, Bukka is going first.
*Bukka comes forward*
*Enjoyment opens a scroll containing everything about the life Bukka lived on earth*
Enjoyment: Bukka, during your time on earth, you:
– Sold food in nylon bags
– Cut meat into tiny pieces and sold each for ₦50
– Gave people running stomach because of unsanitary cooking conditions
– Were always rude and put sweat in people’s foods
– Almost always killed people with heat
Why should I let you into heaven?
Bukka: Oh god of enjoyment, praise be unto thee. As you know, I was solely created to feed the masses, and I believe I did my job very well. I didn’t serve everyone food in nylons; only those who didn’t bring their plates or want to pay for my takeaway packs. Takeaway packs are expensive, so I couldn’t just give them out for free. I needed to make money for my business. About the food poisoning, it’s only people with weak-ass stomachs that got sick. My people on the streets stood strong.
Enjoyment: Ah, Bukka!
Bukka: Yes, my god. It’s true nau. I’m sorry for the unsanitary conditions. Some were out of my control, and others, I should’ve properly taken care of. As for the rude, sweaty servers, ahn ahn, you know it’s part of the ingredients that make the food sweet nau. I wouldn’t be called a Bukka if not for those two major items. And also, I used to give people regular-sized meat before, but when Buhari started showing us shege and the economy became tough, I had to start cutting the meat into two.
Enjoyment: Hmm
Bukka: My god, I saved lives by providing plenty food at cheap prices. No matter how tough the economy became, I didn’t change much. I was there making sure people ate always.
Enjoyment: Okay, I’ve heard you. Move one side. Who’s next?
Angel Chukwudi: Restaurant, my Lord.
*Restaurant walks to Enjoyment’s throne*
Enjoyment:*Reading from his scroll* Restaurant, you committed two major sins that make me want to send you to hell without even hearing you out:
– Charging people ridiculous amounts of money for tiny food that hardly ever tasted nice. How do you put one tablespoon of rice and one teaspoon of sauce and charge ₦20k for it? I shouldn’t allow you into heaven no matter what you say.
– Always wasting people’s time before serving their food. Why did people have to wait 45 minutes for you to cook the tiny portions of food?
Honestly, why should I send you to heaven?
Restaurant: Oh Lord of Enjoyment, I hail thee. My Lord, you know I was created for the high-class people, people rich enough to afford me…
Enjoyment: So high-class people didn’t deserve to eat? They always went back home to eat eba.
Restaurant: They deserved to eat, and that’s why they always had the chance to order more…
Enjoyment: With those prices?
Restaurant: My king, you’re not letting me explain myself.
Enjoyment: Because you were a thief. You made people pay your expensive rent in the name of food.
Restaurant: I was an experience. People didn’t just come to me for food but also for my ambience and aesthetics which allowed people to take beautiful Instagram reels and pictures. I kept influencers and food bloggers in business because they used me to create content. And just like Bukka fed the masses, I fed the rich people. It’s the same thing.
Enjoyment: Sigh. Move to the side. Who’s next?
Angel Bimbo: Eatery, my Lord.
Enjoyment: Where’s Chukwudi?
Angel Bimbo: He went to check why Bistro hasn’t gotten here yet.
Enjoyment: Oh that wasn’t a Bistro. It was just another restaurant calling himself a Bistro. He didn’t even know the meaning of the name.
Angel Bimbo: Thank you for clarifying, my lord. Eatery, you’re next.
*Eatery walks forward*
Enjoyment: Eatery, I don’t think you have to make a case. You did well. You sold decent food and had clean conditions, except when it came to your toilets. You even entertained people with the latest music videos — and sometimes, football matches — round-the-clock. Then, you had mostly nice workers and gave us perfect inventions like Chickwizz. You weren’t bad at all. You’ll make heaven.
Eatery: Oh god of enjoyment, thank you so much. Thank you.
Enjoyment: Bukka and Restaurant, come forward.
Bukka, you did good work on earth by giving my people cheap food. They could come to you with just ₦1k, and they’d eat well. Because of this, I’ll let you into heaven.
Bukka: Thank you so much, my king and god.
Enjoyment: Restaurant, you detty liar. You live a fake life, and I’m not letting you into heaven.
Fine Dining: Ah, god of Enjoyment. Please, don’t do this to me *He starts to cry* Please, hear me out.
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.
This week’s #ZikokoWhatSheSaid subject is a 53-year-old Nigerian woman. She shares how she had her “miracle” baby at 47, beating the 4% chances of conceiving and mistaking the early symptoms for menopause.
Did you always want kids?
Yes. As a young lady, I wasn’t preoccupied with the thought. But yes, deep down inside, I wanted kids. I wanted a little me to guide and nurture and watch grow up.
Why exactly did it take so long, then?
First, I wasn’t lucky with love at all. I was very shy and closeted as a teen and young adult, so I didn’t even have male friends till I started working at 22. I had my first boyfriend at 29. That didn’t last long because I was SU, and he wanted sex some months in but strangely shied away from marriage conversations.
I became more focused on my career as a system analyst at NNPC, which was a big deal at the time. So I really didn’t want to lose that job. I wanted to grow, make money and support my parents for all the sacrifices they made sending my siblings and me to school. So I was still living with them when I met my second boyfriend and first husband at 35.
How did that happen?
I met him in church, where I was an usher, and he was a new member. This was in 2005. We became friends after I reached out to him a few times, encouraging him to attend our services, as we had to do with new members then. But after a few weeks, it became romantic. He would take me out on little dates at eateries, and we would talk on the landline for hours most evenings.
What did you talk about?
Silly things, like office gist — he worked in a popular bank. We also talked about church gossip and past relationships. I was worried at first because he was almost five years younger. I honestly didn’t think we would go far.
Why not?
I was already being teased that I’d missed my chance to find a good match. All my friends, younger sisters and most of the cousins my age were long married. I was getting invited to the weddings of family members who’d just even graduated from university. And before him, I could count on one hand how many men had approached me for anything remotely romantic.
Why do you think that was?
I didn’t go out much, that’s the truth. I wasn’t even an active usher — I was constantly on probation for not attending the numerous worker’s meetings. In the office, people just saw me as shy and boring. The men who talked to me, I didn’t like. I realised most only approached quiet girls because they think we’ll be doormats. They’re always surprised by how outspoken I am when I start talking, and then they just vanish. It happened to me at least twice.
Besides those two places, I loved my room too much. I read and slept a lot and loved helping my mum with housework and in her little vegetable garden. My parents never pressured me to marry. I guess they loved having me around, and they had three other daughters who’d married and given them at least two grandkids by that time.
It was just by chance that I met this charming man the once in a blue moon I decided to fulfill my ushering duties.
How did the relationship progress despite your misgivings?
I think life just took its course. We enjoyed each other’s company a lot, the conversations were never-ending, and I like that he treated me with respect. One of my sisters’ husband was so condescending when he spoke to her, and I couldn’t stand that. I knew right away that if I ever got married, it would be to someone who saw me as an equal.
As it should be
You’d be surprised how men didn’t regard their wives back then. Anyway, we had our first challenge when I met his parents a year in. It was at his sister’s wedding in their hometown. We went there for a weekend, but we hadn’t quite started talking about marriage. We were from different tribes, so his parents treated me badly during those few days. I also think my age and the fact that I was older than him influenced how they treated me.
They’d give me these cold glances or purposely speak their language when I was there. And they’d make statements or ask me questions that were so rude, like, “What do you want with our son?” or a reference to how I was no longer fresh or my tribe was known for being dirty. When we returned to our city, I cried and told him about what went on behind his back. By my next visit to them some months later, they were much more pleasant.
So marriage
He proposed two years after we met, and I was expecting it because our lives had gotten so intertwined by that point. We changed churches and started going together. We’d also started making future plans and discussing finances. Although I was earning more than him at NNPC, he was doing very well at the bank. Some months before our wedding, he even switched to a new bank for a higher role and better pay. I was 37 when we got married, and he was 33, but we were so happy.
Did you try to have a baby right away?
Yes. It wasn’t a secret that I wasn’t young. And we could afford to raise children comfortably, so I was advised by a doctor friend to start seeing an O&G right away. I’d actually done a consultation months before our wedding and was told that from the early 30s, women become less fertile, and it may take longer to get pregnant.
They said I had a 25% chance of conceiving. I made this clear to him ahead of our wedding, and he was hopeful that everything would work out well. However, seven years in, several fertility procedures and lots of money spent later, I was 44, my chances had dropped to 4%, and we’d lost that hope.
You said he was your first husband, so did he leave because of that?
It could’ve been a trigger, maybe, but the real dealbreaker was when he relocated to the US in 2014. I was indifferent about moving, but it was his dream. He’d always wanted to move overseas, but all the fertility wahala kept draining our finances. We’d drifted so far apart by the time he travelled that it no longer felt like we had anything connecting us.
The plan was for me to join him the next year once we’d both saved enough again, but our communication suffered greatly within weeks. At a point, we’d go days without speaking. We went from Skyping every other day to messaging once or twice a week. Meanwhile, I’d developed something with a close mentor at the office.
He was a widower, and because I had a lot of time and space with my first husband’s relocation, our conversations over career advice often dragged and shifted into the personal. I told him how my husband and I no longer had anything to talk about on our calls and even messages, how the awkward silences made me cry for hours after, and how deeply lonely I felt.
It was a relief to open up about my struggles to someone older than me for a change. I was so open and vulnerable at the time, I was scared he’d take advantage of me, and something would happen that I’d regret. We had these conversations in his office at NNPC, but I was still slightly ashamed at the things I’d tell him about my personal life. I suddenly had no one else to turn to.
But how did you meet this man in the first place?
He was a director at work and just took an interest in me because we’re from the same tribe. I met him even before I got married, sometime around 2001. He used to prop me up a lot. You know how federal government parastatals are full of politics and inner machinations. Everyone needs sponsors and mentors in high places to take notice of you, or you could be at the same level for years without promotion. It’s the same in banks.
So he’d encourage me when I did good work, call me out when I was falling his hand, tell me the right opportunities and trainings to take and generally look out for me. He’s just a kind man like that. When his first wife died, I knew about it but sadly couldn’t attend the burial. It was a year after my wedding.
So what happened with him?
He was over a decade older, but again, that didn’t stop me from falling in love. I hid this from him even though I somehow knew he felt the same way. Things proceeded faster with him than with my first husband. But nothing physical happened until he asked me to marry him in December 2014, shortly after he retired from civil service and seven months after my husband relocated. The wedding happened in March 2015.
How did your first husband react to this?
It still haunts me to this day because he was devastated. He actually cried on the phone the night I told him. I immediately wished I’d taken a flight to Dallas to break the news in person instead. I never expected he would take it so badly, given how disconnected I thought we were during that period. His late mother, God rest her soul, even called to rain insults on me the very next day. But I’ve long since healed from that experience and prayed to God for forgiveness.
I feel for him. So did you approach having kids differently this time?
Not at all. Or let me say, yes. This time, I didn’t try at all. My O&G didn’t hear from me, and no fertility treatments or prayers. I mean, he already had three children young enough for me to help bring up. And they were kind, just like their father, so no stepmother-stepchildren Nollywood drama. I’d accepted my fate because I believed I’d long passed my time at 45. I was happy and content.
Then how did it happen?
Hmm. It was about a year into the marriage when I missed my period and then another one. I thought, “That’s it. My time is up. Menopause”. Then, I think around five months in, I was feeling so sick I had to go to a clinic for a malaria test.
But it was a baby
It was a baby o. I was almost six months along and didn’t even know it. Hey God! I’ve always been petite, and I didn’t gain any weight. No symptoms whatsoever. A surprise miracle baby. The only thing I remember is I was always so tired, but I made excuses for that. My husband jokes that the best gifts come when you don’t stress.
I agree. What was the pregnancy period like? Were you scared?
Yes. The initial joy and euphoria gave way to fear. How can I carry a baby in my womb when I’m almost 50? How would I survive labour? There were so many scary stories, even from my doctor. There was a high chance the baby would have down syndrome or a score of other conditions. I myself had a high chance of preeclampsia, diabetes and more.
But abortion was out of the question for me because somewhere deep in my heart, I didn’t want to let go of this renewed hope that I could have a little me after all. I finally relaxed when tests confirmed my baby was healthy. The pregnancy went on smoothly, my skin was glowing, and I just felt great. Even the depression they warned me about didn’t come.
I carried my daughter to a full term of nine months and a week and delivered her through elective C-section as a healthy 3.15 kg baby. I had my only baby at 47. It could only be God.
Hallelujah. And how does motherhood feel now, six years later?
Sometimes, I worry I may not be as energetic as the average parent. But I know for a fact that I’m a lot more attentive to my daughter and smarter at raising her. I have a lot of time, experience and resources on my hand, and that’s worth something too. Nothing’s all good or bad.
I also worry I might be dead by the time she starts making a life for herself and achieving things. But I’m hopeful that I still have up to 40 more years on this earth, and so, I’ll be around for as many of her wins as possible, by God’s grace.
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Do unexpected credit alerts make your heart skip a beat, or does free food do it for you? Your favourite OG Nollywood actor will accurately determine your love language.
Every time something bad happens, you’re quick to blame your village people. Have you ever considered you may be the cause of your problems? No. It’s to blame a set of people you’ve never seen, who apparently only have your downfall in mind. Your village people are tired, so stop blaming them for these things.
Not getting that job
The job announcement asked for someone with eight years of experience, and you still applied despite being a 22-year-old fresh graduate. Ok, maybe you had the experience, but they chose their inexperienced nephew over you. Another point to nepotism.
For being single
You stay in your house Monday to Sunday and think the people in the village are the ones stopping you from entering a relationship? Keep deceiving yourself. Or you go out, but you don’t know how to have a conversation beyond “What are you up to?” and “Have you eaten?”
For being broke
Blame yourself for every moment you’ve said, “I can’t kill myself” or “This life na one”, then gone ahead to splurge on something you didn’t need. The economy is tough, and your village people have nothing to do with that.
For the relationship that ended
You were emotionally and physically unavailable, and barely ever communicated. What did you think would happen? Now, you’re crying and blaming your village people who were even feeling bad for your partner.
For getting fired
You hardly ever did your work. As if that wasn’t enough, you now lied about being sick then posted pictures of yourself at a beach in Ghana. But no, your village people put evil thoughts in your manager’s head, and that’s why you got fired.
For not getting that visa
This isn’t yours or your villagers’ fault. The people at the embassy are just wicked.
For getting malaria
Your village people aren’t trying to kill you. Your blood type is just AA.
You’ve been having sex with a particular person who stays over at your house a lot. And you think it’s because they like you and like spending time with you. Well, we’re here to tell you they might actually be homeless and looking for a place to sleep without having to pay rent.
If they do these things, they’re definitely using you for accommodation.
They only call at night
You don’t hear from them throughout the day, not even a text or a funny Tiktok video sent your way. You text them, and they leave your message on delivered. Then at night, they call to say they were busy. Next thing, “Are you home?”
Because it’s time to sleep, and they need a home.
You’ve never been to their house
Anytime you ask about going over to their house, they make up excuses like they have a roommate or live with their parents. My dear, they have no house for them to invite you to because they’re homeless. Your home is their home.
They start coming over without asking
It gets to a point where they come over without informing you. To them, it’s basically “going home”. Before you know it, they’re asking for a key. Send that person back to the streets now!
The sex is mid
They don’t put in effort during sex because they don’t really like you. But sex is the only way you’ll allow them sleep over at your house, so they give you the best they can muster up.
They always have some type of bag
Even when they tell you they don’t plan to sleep over (big lie), they always come with a bag. If you ask what’s inside, they’ll say, “Random stuff”. But somehow, they always have toiletries and clothes to wear the next day.
They start to leave things behind
They’ll play it off as “Oh, I forgot”, till you see half of their clothes and underwear in your closet. They’ve moved in, my dear, and you guys aren’t even dating.
They’re around all the time
You see them even on nights you just want to be by yourself. No way the sex is good enough for them to be in your house Monday to Sunday.
Stew is on his way back home exhausted after long board meetings with tomato, pepper and onions. He can’t wait to get back to his wife, white rice, who decided to work from home today.
He gets home, unlocks the door, and the first thing he sees when he enters is his wife on the dining table with Egusi on top of her.
Stew: W—what’s going on?
White rice: Babe, it’s not what it looks like. I swear!
Stew: Of course, you’ll use the standard cheating line.
White rice: I’m not cheating, babe. It’s really not what it looks like.
*Egusi just sits there looking smug.*
Stew: I can’t- I can’t do this. *Stew storms out of the house and drives off*
White rice to Egusi: Why are you just sitting there? Why didn’t you tell him the truth?
Egusi: What truth? That I finally got the girl I wanted?
White rice: Are you mad?
Egusi: White rice, you know I’ve wanted you for a long time. And I always thought you deserved better than boring ass stew.
*White rice looks at Egusi like she wants to slap the hell out of him.*
Egusi: I don’t even understand why you’re upset. The way he reacted without giving you the chance to explain shows he clearly doesn’t trust you.
White rice: Anybody would react the same way after seeing someone on top of their partner.
Egusi: I wouldn’t have. And that’s why you should be with me?
White rice: Are you okay? Aren’t you dating eba?
Egusi: Forget about that. That’s not important.
White rice: Now. I see why pounded yam broke up with you. Mscheeew
*Egusi tries to hold White rice’s hand but she pulls it away*
Egusi: White rice, you and I are meant to be, and you know this. People outside say we’re a bad combination, but I disagree. We go perfectly together. Fuck what anybody else says.
*White rice looks at Egusi with irritation.*
White rice: You’re just saying rubbish. Please, leave my house.
Egusi: But we haven’t finished —
White rice: Get out!
It’s the middle of the night. White rice is sleeping in the living room when she hears a rustling of keys and realises it must be stew coming back home. She hopes to God he has calmed down.
Stew unlocks the door. When he walks in, it’s clear he’s been drinking palm oil, way too much of it.
White rice walks over to help him before he hurts himself. There goes the conversation she wanted to have with him tonight.
Stew: You hurt me *in a slurred voice*
White rice: I promise you I didn’t, baby. But we’ll talk about it tomorrow.
Stew: Tomorrow, I’m moving out.
*White rice drops him on the bed*
White rice: You’re not going anywhere in Jesus’ name. This was all a misunderstanding and we’ll sort it—
She hears some snoring and realises Stew is fast asleep.
She sighs and begins to take off his shoes and pants.
White rice is sitting up in bed using her phone when she hears Stew groan beside her.
White rice: Good morning, ba-
Stew: You’re texting Egusi, abi?
White rice: What? Okay, time to put all of this to an end. I need you to not say anything while I talk, okay?
*Stew rolls his eyes*
White rice: You know how this brand called Zikoko is always pushing the agenda that people should eat me and Egusi together?
Stew: Oh, I should answer? You said I shouldn’t talk na. Okay. Yes, I know.
White rice: So they reached out to me and asked if I’d take a picture with Egusi for one of their articles. They offered to pay a huge sum of money, and since we’re trying to japa, I agreed.
Stew: If so, why didn’t you take the picture side by side?
Egusi: Because they wanted to show that Egusi and I really belonged together. If we didn’t do it like that, they wouldn’t have paid. I can show you the email. I’m not lying, babe. And we weren’t even naked. I’d only been parboiled, and Egusi wasn’t completely done.
Stew stares into his wife’s eyes and sees she’s actually telling the truth.
Stew: I’m sorry I didn’t give you the chance to explain, babe.
White rice: I completely understand. You owe me extra meat for the stress sha.
As a Nigerian living in Nigeria, you should be certain of two things. One: If you have light for three consecutive days, look for NEPA’s office and beg them to take the light. There’s a problem somewhere.
The key to winning every argument is by using Nigerian boss tactics, and this article will teach you how.
Make a decision
For top points, pick the most unreasonable decision or opinion possible. For example, of course, one person should be able to do the work of five people without complaining. Are you asking for too much, or are they just not putting in the effort?
Stand by it
Channel your inner mountain and absolutely refuse to change your stance. It doesn’t matter if everyone around you is crying. You’ve made your decision, and changing it means you lose the argument. We don’t want that.
Never accept defeat
Even if the points against your argument are as bright as the Kaduna sun, refuse to be defeated. If they do too much, tell them, “I’ve been an expert in this field since before you were born”. That’ll show them.
Intimidate others into silence
Directly or indirectly threaten to show them shege if they dare question your authority. They’ll accept your every word as law.
Play the boss card
If it looks like you’re losing, just say, “Do you know more than me?” but don’t even give them the space to answer. Just keep repeating that question.
If the person has coconut head and still insists on making their opinions heard, tell them you’ll consider it. Then proceed to never think about it again.
Say, “It’s against policy”
And don’t bother to explain what policy you’re talking about. The point is, you know more than them, and they need to shut their face.
Or just sack them
How dare they question your irrational ways? If you can’t sack them because you’re not a Nigerian boss in real life, sack them from your life and keep it moving.
