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Pharmacist | Zikoko!
  • The #NairaLife of a Pharmacist Who Overcame a Loan App Addiction

    The #NairaLife of a Pharmacist Who Overcame a Loan App Addiction

    Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.


    Nairalife #252 Bio

    What’s your earliest memory of money?

    I always had home-cooked food for lunch throughout primary and secondary school, while my friends would get money to buy snacks or whatever they wanted. I grew up in a middle-class family, but I didn’t have direct access to money. It was like something only the adults in my family could have.

    How “middle-class” was your family?

    My dad worked in a bank, and my mum worked in an airline company, so the money was good. My mum had access to discounted tickets, so we flew for international holidays at least once yearly. We had three cars and lived in a ₦1m/month rented apartment. Our neighbourhood in Lagos Mainland was quite mixed; there were really comfortable people and people struggling to make ends meet. I think this mixed upbringing is why I don’t want obscene wealth today. I just want to be comfortable.

    My dad operated on the same values. He was an auditor, so he constantly drilled the “never steal money” lesson in me and my siblings’ heads. Even at work, he was a very “play by the rules” kind of person, which earned him some enemies. He lost his job to rightsizing in 2011 when I was in SS 2. My mum had quit her job a year earlier to focus on becoming an entrepreneur, so my dad losing his job changed some things at home.

    What were some of these changes?

    My dad’s work at the bank gave my mum access to loans for her business. She imported clothes from Turkey to sell at a mark-up. The loans allowed her to go on the trips and stock her three shops. Without his job, there were no more loans, so she had to downscale the business. 

    Our international holiday trips stopped, and there were no more random Chinese restaurant trips. We also never renewed our Ikoyi Club membership. Thankfully, my dad used the settlement he got from the bank to purchase a house in 2012, so we didn’t have to bother about rent. At some point, my dad did some consulting, but nothing steady.

    Do you remember the first thing you did to earn money?

    I got into the university to study pharmacy in 2013, and in my five years there, the only time I ever worked for money was during industrial training in my third year. The company paid me ₦15k after working for six weeks. I also got a ₦50k endowment allowance — given to first-class students — from school in my third and fourth years.

    I just wasn’t someone to carry work on my head. It helped that I schooled in Lagos, so I could always go home when I exhausted the ₦4k – ₦5k weekly allowance my parents gave me. It was around this time I realised that money can control you. I couldn’t break away from my parents because they were my primary source of money.

    After my project defence in December 2018, I started seeking to earn my own money. A school strike delayed my graduation and induction, but I eventually got a locum pharmacist job in March 2019 for ₦50k/month — ₦47k after deductions. 

    What were your expenses like?

    Transportation and food took all the money. I also occasionally contributed to expenses at home.

    I was still at the job when the induction ceremony for graduating pharmacy students finally happened in May 2019. The compulsory one-year internship for pharmacists came after. At first, I didn’t want to intern at a community pharmacy because they don’t pay well, so I targeted a hospital or government agency. 

    However, my search was unsuccessful, so I settled for a ₦90k/month internship at a community pharmacy in December 2019. After a month, a teaching hospital finally reached out to me, and I jumped at the ₦126k/month offer.

    A significant increase

    COVID made it even more significant. I don’t want the pandemic to return o, but I wouldn’t mind if we had something lockdown-ish again. It came with an increased hazard allowance for health workers, so I got an extra ₦30k for two months, and ₦50k in the third month.

    Although I didn’t get paid in the first month due to the normal government bureaucracy, I was paid two months’ salary in March. 

    So you were balling?

    I was, but I also spent most of what I earned paying back loans. 

    What loans?

    I first discovered mobile loan apps on social media while doing the ₦50k locum job. It started with just needing small change to sort something out before my salary dropped, but the interest rates are crazy, and you find that you’re paying back up to ₦12k on a ₦7k loan. When salary drops, you realise you need to top up because the repayment has eaten into your budget. It’s a vicious cycle that followed me into the internship. 

    When the double alert came, I paid off outstanding loans and took another one with a phone retailer that allows you to buy in installments. I got a Samsung phone that cost ₦160k and paid ₦80k outright. The balance summed up to ₦120k, including interest, which I paid off over a couple of months. At that point, I was using a third of my salary to service the loans.

    Some of my money also went to my dad. He occasionally took ₦20k or ₦50k loans from me but never paid back. I also saved a bit, and by the end of 2020, I had close to ₦200k in savings.

    What happened after the internship ended?

    NYSC. Most medical professionals can relate to it being a period of uncertainty because you go from earning a good salary to a mere ₦33k/month stipend. I decided to use my savings to get a laptop, learn some tech skills to increase my earning potential and possibly get a side gig.

    I went to Ikeja to purchase said laptop, but then, I got robbed of my phone on the way. Thankfully, the thieves couldn’t access the account that had my savings. But the experience scattered my plans. I had to spend two weeks navigating the NIN process to retrieve my sim, abandoning the side gig plans.

    NYSC posted me to a state in southern Nigeria in 2021, where I moved in with a fellow corps member. My half of the rent and other bills was about ₦110k for the year. My PPA was a general hospital that didn’t pay anything extra, so I hardly showed up. I relied on NYSC’s stipend and the occasional allowance from home. 

    I also continued taking loans — I must’ve taken up to ₦100k in loans during my service year.

    Did you try to do anything else for money?

    I got another locum pharmacist job two months into my service year in June 2021. Someone I met at CDS introduced me to this community pharmacy that paid ₦57k/month. It’s still one of my favourite locum experiences so far. My boss had no issues and even increased my salary in November to ₦76k/month. He also gave me an extra ₦70k Christmas bonus. 

    I’m not sure how I managed it, but even with the added income, I wasn’t free from the loan cycle. I hardly went out and didn’t spend so much on transportation or clothes. I randomly shopped online and had some black tax expenses, but it shouldn’t have been enough to keep me in my constant borrowing cycle. 

    But I was still in the vicious cycle set in motion from my very first loan.

    I finished NYSC in February 2022 and considered staying back in the state I served. The original plan was to request to be converted into a full-time staff at the pharmacy, but then, I landed a temporary position at a public health organisation in the state. Temporary because they worked with donor funds and could only guarantee me a job while they still had funds.

    How much did the job pay?

    ₦209k/month. It was also a break from working long hours almost every day at the community pharmacy. My major expense was black tax from my younger sister. I got into a relationship too, but I only spent on my girlfriend when we went out on dates at least once a month or when I more frequently stopped by her workplace with food. 

    In March, I moved out of my NYSC apartment into a two-bedroom with a roommate. My half of the rent was ₦275k, which I didn’t have at the time, so I took a ₦100k loan from a loan app and another ₦101k loan from my roommate.

    The donor funds at my job expired in July. I was unemployed until September when I got a one-week gig at an NGO that paid ₦209k — the standard pay for my role in the NGO industry. In November 2022, the public health organisation that ran on donor funds (my former job) called me back, and I resumed my ₦209k/month role. During the months of unemployment, I took on academic writing gigs for UK master’s students who were doing work-study programs. I had a friend who hooked me up, and I’d get ₦15k or ₦20k gigs once in a while. 

    I also took occasional loans from my roommate and girlfriend. She didn’t know about my loan apps problem, though.

    Were you ashamed of it?

    I definitely wasn’t proud of it. 

    Before I got my job back in November, a loan company called my dad after I defaulted on a payment. I’m still grateful he didn’t tell anyone else, or it’d have been a whole family meeting. He called me to ask what was happening, and I lied that I took the loan when I lost my phone, and that I’d settle it. That call was the drive I needed to sit up and stop the loan cycle once and for all. I couldn’t be in debt forever. I wasn’t saving, investing or doing anything worthwhile, and that wasn’t the life I wanted.

    I decided to focus on taking my job even more seriously. I knew unemployment could take me back down the loan route, so I wanted to be indispensable at work, donor funds or not. I also continued taking the freelancing gigs, and in a good month, it brought an additional ₦50k.

    In March 2023, I finally landed my first permanent public health pharmacist role at an NGO. It paid ₦500k/month during the six-month confirmation period. They now pay me ₦450k/month.

    The pay reduced?

    Confirmation meant they had to start removing tax and other compulsory stuff. I’m terrible at keeping track of deductions. I just know the company pays for my pension and health insurance charges. 

    The job was also in a different state, so I had to move and get a new laptop. I took a final ₦400k loan from an app to do this, and I just finished repaying it in November. I was comfortable taking this loan because I knew my salary could cover it.

    My salary is also not the only way to make money at my job.

    Tell me more

    Work trips are where the money is at. They assign you to a secondary location for a couple of days and pay a per diem — an allowance for the trip. This blew my mind. You mean, you’ll foot transportation costs, lodge me in a hotel with complimentary breakfast AND still pay me daily because of the stress of the trip? Wonderful. The trips never go beyond a week, but it adds an extra ₦20k – ₦180k to my income at the end of the month.

    What do you spend this money on?

    I live in a dead town, which says a lot coming from an introverted person. So, I like to pop into Lagos once in a while, like an IJGB, to have a good time. I’ve been to Lagos thrice this year, and I spent around ₦30k – ₦70k on each trip. I also send around ₦60k monthly to my parents to help out with my dad’s medication and support the income. Then there’s the random money I send to my siblings.

    What do these expenses look like in a good month?

    Nairalife #252 Monthly Expenses

    I mentioned I just finished repaying a ₦400k loan. That took ₦120k out of my income every month, but that’s done now. I don’t put an amount to feeding because I just feed myself based on what I have left. My rent is ₦250k yearly, which is half my monthly income, so I figure I don’t have to actively save monthly for it.

    Sometimes, I save more when I get more money from work trips. I currently have $750 saved in a fintech app, and I hope to cross the $1k threshold by January 2024. I’m worried my parents could have a hospital emergency at any time, and I want to be ready. I also want to japa one day, but I don’t have a particular route yet, so I want to have the money down first.

    What’s your relationship with money like now?

    I used to be quite impulsive with spending because my mentality was, “Another one will come eventually”. But that’s how the loan addiction started. Now, I make sure to save something immediately my salary comes in. Since I was repaying a loan up until November 2023, I’ve only saved ₦50k constantly monthly since I got my job in March. I hope to increase that now that I’m debt-free. 

    Do you ever feel tempted to take another loan?

    I literally just opened a microfinance bank app today, and they offered me a ₦1.4m loan. I considered taking it and investing in a business until my brain told me to calm the hell down. The fact that I can take the loan doesn’t mean I should do it.

    I think I understand I have the tendency to make stupid money decisions, but I choose to protect my mental health now. Why do something and get depressed about it when I can actually choose NOT to do it?

    That’s fair. Do you have an ideal monthly salary?

    I just want to earn at least ₦1m/month. I don’t have any entrepreneurial blood in me, and I think that’s a decent amount to suffice for me waking up every day to do a 9-5. I’m trying to psych myself up to get public health, logistics and supply chain certifications in 2024 to help my future japa plans and increase my earning potential. 

    I don’t want to be obscenely rich, though. People with crazy amounts of money have to do unethical things to get there, and I can’t do that. I’d rather take a smaller payday. 

    Have you considered what these certifications would cost?

    I have, and they’re quite expensive. One costs as much as $2k. I’m hoping to get grants from my job, but before then, I’ll probably take advantage of as many free and less expensive courses as I can to gather knowledge. I just need guidance and strength to push through with these plans and not get discouraged along the way. 

    How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1 – 10?

    This is one of my favourite Naira Life questions. I’ll rate it a 7.5. I could be better, but I’m happy, and I can deal with what I have now.


    If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.

    Find all the past Naira Life stories here.


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  • “Extra Money Used to Mean Chopping Life” — A Week in the Life of a Serial Entrepreneur

    “Extra Money Used to Mean Chopping Life” — A Week in the Life of a Serial Entrepreneur

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


    The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is an entrepreneur running two businesses — a pharmacy and a delivery business. He talks about why he no longer considers working a 9-5, becoming more responsible as a result of entrepreneurship and how he struggles with being called “boss”.

    MONDAY:

    Come rain, come shine, I open my eyes every morning at 7 a.m. My eyes adjust to the light in the room, and I roll out of my sturdy but squeaky bed and pick up my grey coloured iPhone. 

    I manage two businesses — a logistics company and a pharmacy — but I start my day dealing with the logistics business. This means I start everyday texting: “Thanks for patronising us, you’ll get your package today.” or “Apologies for yesterday, police arrested my rider but you’ll get the package today.” 

    Today is more of the first one so I’m feeling positive about this week. By 8:05 a.m., I’m done accepting delivery orders for the day, and I make plans to leave my house. It’s time for phase two, the hardest part of being a CEO — being physically present at the office. 

    A quick bath, clean clothes, comfortable sneakers and a couple of sprays of perfume later, I’m ready for work by 8:35 a.m. It helps that my office is 5–10 minutes away from home because I resume at 9 a.m. I look through my bag to ensure that I’m not forgetting anything, and satisfied, I leave for work. 

    At work, which is where I run both businesses, I meet the pharmacy shop open. This is unsurprising because I have a full-time pharmacist, supported by sales girls, that resumes by 8:00 a.m. every day. I sit at my desk in the office, write and sort the packages to be dispatched today. After I’m done, I call in the riders, give them packages for their respective routes and wish them luck. 

    Then I turn my attention to the pharmacy. I look through the inventory, take note of out-of-stock medications, monitor drugs sold versus money made and mark the fast-moving drugs. To make my book-keeping experience smoother, I plug in music and open a carton of cold Lucozade boost to set the mood. Work can be good if you’re having fun.

    TUESDAY

    My friends call me CEO millions, but I don’t feel like I have millions. Especially on days like today when entrepreneurship is kicking my ass. The pharmacy part of my business doesn’t stress me too much, but you see that logistics/dispatch part? Run!

    I had an order to pick up and deliver yoghurt worth ₦15,000, and it ended up pouring inside the rider’s carriage box. The driver says he was careful, the client says they were careful. Yet, I, who had no part in their interaction, had to refund the yoghurt money. 

    Even with this stress, I don’t think I can do a 9-5 again, especially as a pharmacist. Imagine employers not paying the previous month’s salary until the middle of the next one? Or employers stealing medicines and blaming the employee? After my experience meeting wicked bosses in several places, I was motivated to start my own business. I guess I got tired of complaining. 

    I’m grateful for the lessons from my old jobs. Because of how I was treated, I vowed not to be an asshole. It costs nothing to treat workers well.  I’m also super proud of the fact that I pay my workers before the end of every month. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    I wake up late today so I have to rush. I haven’t sorted the dispatch orders for today. I also have to buy medicines for the pharmacy. Thankfully, my supplier is close to the office. I decide to pick the medications before getting to the office. 

    On the drive, I can’t help but think about how every business has its challenges. Using my businesses as examples, I’d say running a pharmacy is pretty straightforward. My pharmacist sits, waits for patients to come, counsels and dispenses drugs. When she’s done, she balances inventories, tallies the medicines and is on top of things. Very straightforward. 

    For logistics, you’ll first have 20 people texting you at once. What do they want? They all want their packages delivered at the same time, and that’s impossible. But you also can’t refuse the orders. So you’ll beg, plead or negotiate for a more open agreement — same-day delivery instead of promising a specific time. Sometimes, you’ll promise to deliver by 6 p.m. and you’ve still not delivered by 8 p.m. Why? Unforeseen circumstances. 

    A list of my favourite reasons: “LASTMA catch me.” “My bike chain cut.” “My tyre burst.”  “Them arrest me in Lagos for not having Ogun state sticker.” 

    It’s crazy, but we dey rough am. After a stressful day, my only consolation is when people pray for me after they receive their parcel or medication. This gingers me to give out my best every day. 

    There are bad days, but the good days outnumber them. Hopefully, today turns out good too. 

    THURSDAY:

    It’s a slow day at the pharmacy today so I have time for self-reflection. I’m thinking about how entrepreneurship changes you. It bends you in certain ways that the light of responsibility starts reflecting against your skin. At least, that’s true for me. 

    In eight months of running both businesses, I’ve seen myself become responsible for myself and others. It’s crazy that I have a combined total of nine staff on my payroll. Every day I get to work and they call me “boss,” my first instinct is to say “who?” Me too I’m winging it. But I understand that my staff look up to me, so I try to be a role model. I comport myself and try to lead by example. I don’t drink alcohol at work. I don’t slack either, and I make sure everyone sees me giving my best. That way, the culture of excellence spreads from top to bottom. 

    Even my personal life hasn’t been spared. In the past, extra money meant chopping life. These days, I’m always thinking about how I can either use it to buy another bike for my logistics business or drugs for my pharmacy. As a Nigerian businessman, you can’t spend money anyhow because the business environment is too risky. Laws can change at any time and you’ll be stranded. 

    I’m grateful to God for everything and where I am, but my God! Running a business is so difficult. 

    FRIDAY:

    There are days when we use the TGIF caption on our pictures, but today is not one of them. Today is for work and shopping for medications. Today is also for dreaming about the future and possibilities. 

    I keep asking, where does all this all lead to? My ideal answer is that I build a noble brand that’s well known across Nigeria. A brand so big people want to drop their money to invest under my franchise. 

    Another answer is that this success enables me to upgrade my nickname from CEO millions to CEO billions. And I won’t be receiving logistic orders or directly running the pharmacy — everything will be handled by a manager. 

    But, truthfully, based on where I am right now, the most realistic answer is to trust God, take one day at a time and just keep showing up. 

    From where I’m standing, that doesn’t sound like a bad plan at all. Hope for better days is all we have.


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

  • A Week In The Life Of A Medical Device Seller During COVID

    A Week In The Life Of A Medical Device Seller During COVID

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


    For today’s “A Week In The Life” we go back in time to 2020. We explore what it was like to benefit from the height of the pandemic. We speak to a medical consumables seller who tells us about how COVID money changed his life.

    COVID

    MONDAY:

    Something crazy recently happened to my benefit: someone wanted to order face masks, my friend [who was called] couldn’t help them out, and so I took on the job. Now, I’m in Idumota market everyday sourcing masks and other COVID essentials. I make almost over 50% profit on every order I process. But I’m not foolish; I understand that this is rush money and it won’t always be like this, so I remind myself to make the most out of it. This bubble can only last for so long before people run out of money. 

     A lot of my day, like today, starts with phone calls from 6 a.m. I’m either on the phone with customers who want to order stuff or I’m calling my guys in the market to help me run a delivery.  If you had asked me two months ago about selling stuff, you’d have probably gotten a big no from me. But, hey I’m not complaining. 

    I’m in this business because I quit my job in anticipation of starting my compulsory internship program after pharmacy school. However, one month into my wait, the pandemic struck. I suddenly found myself jobless and without an internship. There I was in my room every day, moping until I overheard my friend almost decline an order to deliver face masks and hand sanitisers to a company. I volunteered to fulfil the order even though I had never been to Idumota market in my life. That leap of faith marked the beginning of a life-changing event. I quickly entered the world of negotiations, import and export, and uncovered previously unknown corners of Idumota market. There’s literally nothing you can’t find in that market and knowing the right people makes all the difference. 

    I started the business with one order and then two, three… After a while, it just took off mostly through word of mouth and referrals. And it’s been smooth sailing ever since. 

    It’s wild that a few months ago I was working in a community pharmacy where the pay was around ₦60,000 a month. And now, in a month, I make almost double the yearly salary of my old job. Which is a lot for a young pharmacist. 

    What I love the most about my current reality is stability. A year ago I was worried about where I’d do my internship, or if my life would ever amount to anything and how I’d jaapa. Now, I’m literally thinking of importing my own line of medical consumables and not worrying a lot about tomorrow. For the first time in a long time, I’m not worried about where my next meal will come from. 

    TUESDAY:

    I started my day by visiting my bank. Even though there were lockdown restrictions, I had to go in because my business was at stake. After being paid for my largest order so far, my bank froze my account. Their reason? The amount of money was simply too much. Ahan.

    So I had to go in person to explain that I was not a Yahoo boy. Simply a trader involved in the buying and selling of goods. After a few regulatory backs and forth to confirm my identity and upgrade my account, the restrictions were lifted. I felt my chest loosen up for the first time since I got the restriction email. 

    I’ve been trying to put how I feel into words and failing. I guess that there’s no way to talk about my gratitude without sounding insensitive to other people. While people have been lamenting about how COVID has dealt with them, it’s been a blessing in disguise for me. I’ve lost count of the number of things I’ve done with COVID money because the profit is not one or two million. It’s millions of naira. This experience has also taught me a lot about myself and opened my eyes to parts of me I had never been in touch with. I understand now that I possess some form of hustle spirit I never knew I had. 

    Sometimes I catch myself thinking that not getting Internship has been a blessing. I can run my business on my own terms without worrying about other engagements elsewhere. 

    Later today, I’m meeting up with a couple of guys who are supposed to walk me through the process of importing drugs. Apparently, it’s not very straightforward, especially if you don’t want Customs to seize your goods. However, nobody tells you this until you’ve entered wahala. Nigeria and ease of doing business strike again. The meeting will definitely not be fun. But I’m looking forward to after the meeting when I’ll buy asun and mortuary standard Heineken to share with my boys. I guess it’s true that the simple things of life give the most pleasure. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    I woke up with one word on my mind today: grace. I know that I’m not the only one who does this business so it’s not by my power that it’s going smoothly. I’ve heard of people who also do this same business and dulled. It’s humbling to me because I didn’t do any digital advertising or social media marketing. Just mostly word of mouth on my part, and my friends who put my business on social media. At one point, I was even shy to post my business, but thankfully the people in my corner really showed up for me. And for that, I’m grateful. It’s a blessing to have people in your corner who encourage you. 

    There was also the part where the traders in Idumota showed me the ropes. In my first month, I’d open with them by 8 a.m. and close by 5 p.m. daily. They dedicated their time to show me where to go and where to not go. I even learned how to identify the real value of a product after profit has been added. My negotiation skills went through the roof. On top of it all, they still help me out in one way or another, especially when I can’t be physically present at the market.  

    Again, grace. 

    Still, it’s not perfect. I’ve had to face people defaulting on agreements which made me lose a lot of money. I also have to deal with serious price fluctuations between each market visit. Scarcity of products is leading to over hiked prices. There was a time a carton of facemask went up from ₦350,000 to ₦600,000. [Editor’s note: A carton contains 2,000 pieces of facemask. A carton also has 40 boxes and each box/pack has 50 pieces of facemask]

    In spite of all this, I give God the glory because he’s a major part of my journey. Money will come and go but God’s grace is forever. 

    THURSDAY: 

    I’ve realised that at heart I’m still a pharmacist. And part of the requirements to becoming a fully licensed Pharmacist is completing my internship program. That’s why I’m spending a lot of time today filling out applications for where I’ll intern. For me, this is more a formality as opposed to a do or die affair. I’m aware of how internship money changes people’s lives. Starting life on a salary above ₦100,000 in Nigeria pushes you one step closer to your dreams — whether it’s to jaapa to the US or Canada. 

    For me, because I understand how unpredictable business is, my internship money is going to an account I can’t touch. At least after a year of piling it up, it’ll make a good safety net in case anything happens. 

    The government recently eased the lockdown and things will soon start returning to ‘normal.’ I know rush money from business will slow down, and I’m looking to diversify outside of it. I’m looking into becoming a vendor that supplies pharmaceuticals for banks, HMO’S and big companies. At least that’s some form of stable income in a world of uncertainty. 

    I know that whatever way this story ends, things are never going to be the same again for me. My perspective has totally changed. Even if, God forbid, I don’t take anything out of this experience, I know I’ll have stories to tell my children. I’ll just be like ‘hey guys, let me tell you the story of how your dad became a millionaire in the middle of a global pandemic.’


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

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  • When A Breadwinner Loses Their Job, A #NairaLife Like This Happens

    When A Breadwinner Loses Their Job, A #NairaLife Like This Happens

    Being the breadwinner is more pressure than perks, but what does it mean for a family when their breadwinner can no longer provide? Most of the time, it means the rest of the family will step up to plug the gap. This week’s story is about that.

    Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.

    My favourite first question is, what’s your oldest memory of money?

    I mistakenly saw my father’s annual payslip in 2004 or so. More than half a million Naira. I didn’t know if it was too much or enough. I was too young to understand anything.

    How old were you? 

    11. Two years later, he got laid off, and that was the beginning of everything. 

    Woah.

    After 28 years of service. Just like that. 

    He was an engineer working at the Nigerian Ports Authority and got retrenched during the Obasanjo’s tenure. My kid sis was 2 back then. My mother had to pick things up from there – this woman hustled, and still hustles sef. I guess that’s where I got my relentless spirit from. 

    What was she doing before this happened, and what changed after?

    She worked as a Community Health Officer at the Local Government level. At that point, she became the primary source of income for the family.

    For instance, she’d trek from her office to the bus park, treat the drivers there and anyone who needed treatment. Then trek to the market to buy foodstuff from whatever money she made then take a bus or trek from there.

    Work to Park: 1.7km

    Park to Market: 3.3km

    Wow. What were things like for your dad? 

    My dad got his gratuity at some point. It was in the millions of naira back then but he lost it all to fraudsters two years later. He’s yet to fully recover from this – he’s hypertensive. 

    And that in itself is a monster of expenses.

    You get it. Thank God my mum was a healthcare worker. Things are much better now, at least he’s collecting his monthly pension, but it’s never enough. I don’t know how much o, but it’s never enough. 

    I’m just grateful I’m no longer a dependant – to an extent at least. They can focus on my baby sister now – she’s going to uni with the 20/21 session. I have an older brother too, basically the scapegoat of the house. And somehow, all the pressure’s on me.

    I don’t know how to explain it.

    Try maybe? 

    First daughter pressure. Must be perfectly moulded for a husband we’re yet to meet. Near perfect in every other aspect. It also doesn’t help that I’m the only one that inherited my mother’s drive out of all her children.

    My siblings are so laid back, they can’t come and kill themselves.

    Stress. I imagine this pushed you to want to make money on time?

    I’d say it made me more driven, but work for money? Not really. The first time I got paid for anything though, I supervised a team for some immunisation exercise. About 10 years ago. It paid ₦4k. I was 16 at the time. 

    I got into uni and school work didn’t give me the luxury of trying to do anything. Also, I had leadership responsibilities in my department that made it even more difficult. I did a couple of small jobs here and there though. One time as a data collator for a week; that paid ₦10k. Industrial Training at an FMCG paid ₦10k a month and ₦400 for weekend shifts. 

    I graduated in 2014 on paper, but in reality, 2015. 

    What does that even mean? 

    Strikes. 

    After graduating, I came home to do the usual; job hunting. Job hunting is how I Ianded in the hands of job scammers. I don’t know where they got my number from, but they told me to come for an interview.

    I got there and I met people from different age groups applying for the same job – first red flag – but I wasn’t thinking again at this point. They gave us an aptitude test which I passed, I was so happy, hahaha. 

    Then they started the aspire to perspire yarns for those of us that passed and failed – another red flag. It’s like they used jazz on us.

    Then they said we should all bring about ₦11k to start. I didn’t even have it but I was ready to go back home to bring it. When I stepped out of the premises, it’s like my senses came back. 

    The next day, my mum told me to go look for a fashion school – I’ve always been interested in that. 

    Mad oh!

    I found one near my house. Buying sewing materials and tools alone cost me 80k, but not at once. It was what it summed up to from collecting money every day. I was tired of asking for money daily, but I had no choice. 

    One Friday night, I showed up at home and you know what was waiting for me? 

    What? 

    A brand new sewing machine. God bless that woman for me. Anyway, I learned how to make both male and female clothing. In that time, I also got a job. 

    Nice!

    I was fired that weekend. 

    Small play.

    I took the job because I was just tired of being dependent. It was a fashion house – I was a huge fan! The job title said Stock Manager, but a few days later I found myself sweeping the living room of my boss – they worked from home. 

    Wollop. 

    One Man Business in Naij 101. My contract said, 10 am – 4 pm for four days in a week, so I figured it was flexible for fashion school not to suffer. We had an event on Sunday. That whole week was very stressful and we agreed I’d take the next Monday off.

    She didn’t stop shouting at me at the event. At this point, I was already feeling sick from the stressful week I’d had so it even made more sense to take the Monday off. I also didn’t know I needed to give another notice to my employer. 

    Oops. 

    I was using a night time data plan at the time. So Monday at 9pm, I got a message from the brand manager telling me I was no longer needed and I should send my account details: I got ₦10k for the week.

    There were other things about it I didn’t like. My boss’ husband, for example, was sending me on errands. 

    A mess. 

    Anyway, NYSC was calling, and I had to cut short fashion from my one year plan to 8 months. I got posted to the Southeast, to a school in the middle of nowhere. 

    So, picture this: the only Muslim Yoruba woman in one Local Government in the Southeast in IPOB’s active days in 2016. 

    What was that like? 

    It was very very exhausting. I encountered a lot of unpleasant experiences both from fellow corp members to indigenes. One Corps member was discriminated against, simply because she’d lived in “Yoruba Man’s Land”. I ranted about it and got in serious trouble for it. I literally had to leave where I was when it started to backfire. People said I was a target. It was less than three months until I was done with NYSC, so I counted the days. 

    My escape was that some of the students I taught were very pleasant. Then there was this tailor I’d go stay with after school. He gave me space to sew sometimes. Then I’d go to Onitsha and Awka Markets to buy fabrics to sew. Made some outfits for a few of my mates. I really wanted to go to Aba but I felt it was too dangerous to travel alone.

    Then I was tutoring some kids for jamb and WAEC, but I had to stop because it was interfering with school time table and because they didn’t even know the basics few weeks to their exams. ₦1k per lesson. 

    Anyway, my NYSC salary was the usual; ₦19,800. Then the state paid ₦10k. 

    I’m sorry you had to go through that. After NYSC? 

    I came back home and was ready for the labour market. I was tired of being broke. Although I still had some stashed away from service – I’m quite prudent. Then my mum and I had a back and forth: 

    Mum: Go for your Master’s.

    Me: No. I want to make money. It’s a trap. You’re going to pay my school fees and I won’t be able to fend for myself. 

    Mum: …

    Me: …

    Mum:…

    Me: Okay, fine. I’ll go. 

    And so, I ended up applying for a Pharmacology Masters. 

    Just as I was waiting, my dad put me through to someone at an FMCG, and they asked me to come interview. 

    Progress!

    Yeah, except the job, as I later found out, was not in fact related to my course. It was for a marketing canvasser. Because of the circumstances around the opportunity, I couldn’t say no. Also, I needed the money. 

    What was the job like? 

    I was required to go out and market the company’s products to customers for ₦40k a month, plus transport and airtime allowance. There were commissions too. 

    It was a 6-month contract, but I hated that job. Also, it was a tough 6 months, because I had to do the job, prepare for exams, and sew on the side. 

    When I finished the marketing gig, they didn’t want to pay us our honorarium and commission, so we sharply brought out our employment letter to show them the terms again.

    How did that go? 

    I got an alert of about 160k in January 2018, at the end of it. By the end of January, all the money I had was ₦200k. 

    A few days later, I gained admission. I needed all these small wins at that point. 

    Any specific reasons?

    My useless boyfriend had started dating someone else. Menarescum.

    I –

    I slipped into a depression and migraine crisis for six months. My parents covered my tuition and all. But I had to fend for myself via tailoring to get my allowances. 

    I finished a little over a year later, in 2019, then I started applying for jobs again. Some health challenges again made me realise that I needed a job to propel my dreams, and tailoring wasn’t going to do it at this time. So I started applying more aggressively. 

    Did anything click? 

    By the middle of the year, yes. One of the places I’d applied to wanted to have me. They were especially pleased with my volunteering experience in the past. Best part? I didn’t live far away from the office. 

    One month later, I started as a Scientific Data Analyst at a Pharmacy. 8 am to 5 pm, Mondays to Saturday, ₦100k net. The beggar in me didn’t have a choice at this point, so I took it. 

    Sigh.

    To be honest, my role feels more like an Assistant Operations Manager. I handle chronic disease management, with emphasis on hypertension and diabetes management. Data collation and analysis. I also head the counselling department. I do business development and strategy. Programs, health promotion and advocacy. Social media management. 

    That’s a lot. 

    Six months in and I’m already tired. For instance, I was supposed to start a data course today, but I had to postpone because I’m actually drained. 

    You see, right now, I’m done with the Nigerian labour market. I’m planning to japa very soon. I’m gathering all the experience I’d need for a PhD in Diabetes and Depression management. 

    How much do you think the work you do should pay you? 

    ₦250k net. It just feels like a decent amount for the work I do. 

    Fair enough. How about we break down your current monthly expenses? 

    I’m low maintenance. I may make an extra 35k per month from sewing, I don’t document that a lot. 

    What’s something you want right now but can’t afford?

    My own space abeg. I’m tired of living with my parents. Also, I’d like to hire a tailor that actually knows how to sew well. I deserve a vacation too. 

    Look, I just want to be a Glucose Baby. I’m tired of this hustle. 

    Hahaha. Do you have an emergency fund for if anything goes south?

    Your question is making me dizzy. Maybe I should get myself a Glucose Guardian? Jokes. 

    On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your financial happiness?

    5. It’s like, I need money for a lot of things, but I’m also grateful to earn money. Whenever I think about my dad’s condition, I just go to my machine.

    I get home and I go straight to the machine. I don’t want my skills to die because I have a day job. My mum too goes to her shop when she leaves the office, before heading home. Mastering tailoring myself means I have the luxury to stop working any time I like in the future.

    You feel me?

    I do. I do. Thank you for taking the time.


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  • 13 Pictures You’ll Get If You’ve Ever Bought Condoms From A Nigerian Pharmacy

    13 Pictures You’ll Get If You’ve Ever Bought Condoms From A Nigerian Pharmacy

    1. When you need condoms but none of your friends are around to steal from.

    Nawa!

    2. You, calculating whether to buy condoms now or free and buy pampers later.

    Is the shame worth it?

    3. You, praying that the pharmacist is not one middle-aged Nigerian woman.

    I don’t need the judgement.

    4. When you enter the pharmacy and the place is full of old people.

    God forbid.

    5. You, pretending to consider other items.

    As if it’s not just condom you’re there for.

    6. When you see someone from church enter the pharmacy.

    Hay God!

    7. You, when someone just walks in and shouts “give me gold circle”.

    Boss!

    8. When you buy things you don’t need just to shift attention from the condoms.

    See money I’m wasting.

    9. How the pharmacist looks at you if you don’t have a ring on your finger:

    See your life.

    10. When they are about to give you the “youths of today” speech.

    Just don’t, biko.

    11. Your face, all through the purchase.

    Stop looking at me.

    12. When they tell you they don’t have any black nylons.

    You people want to expose me.

    13. You, after realizing you can never go back to that pharmacy again.

    Shame will not allow me.