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As a woman with big feet, there are various struggles you would encounter on a daily basis, and some specially when you want to buy new shoes. Here are five things women with big feet can relate to.
1) Shoe sizes are so hard to find
Most shoe sizes for women are very limited. If your size is anything above 44, it’ll be easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for you to easily find your shoe size in the market.
2) Constantly hearing “your feet are too big for a woman”
Whenever you hear this, you just want to break someone’s head. Do they want to cut a chunk of your foot off so it’ll be smaller? People should mind their business before you change it for them.
If you have big feet and you love sneakers or slides, then buying from the men’s section is not new to you. However, you have to deal with their lack of fun colours like pink and purple. Must everything be black?
4) Scarcity of fine shoes
The few times you’re able to actually find your shoe size, they’re ugly. Why? Women with big feet deserve nice shoes too!
5) Shoes are too expensive
Because the shoes are so hard to find, they are usually very expensive. Other times, it’s because you need custom shoes. That’s why people should be dashing women with big feet extra money. It’s an expensive life.
“A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week
The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a medical house officer. House officers are freshly graduated doctors completing a one-year mandatory work program [called house job] for more hands-on experience. Our subject tells us about not getting enough sleep, being owed salaries and how the house job experience contributes to doctors leaving the country.
THE TEARS AND WOES OF THE HOUSE OFFICER, THE MOST ABUSED AND MALTREATED DOCTOR IN NIGERIA
Medical education in Nigeria lasts for 6 years, after which the new Doctor has to do a compulsory one year program called internship or Housemanship in a teaching hospital or
The thing about being a house officer is that there’s no wake-up or sleep time — you need to be awake whenever the hospital calls you — continuously for one year. You have to find time in between work to get some sleep.
On a day like today where I managed to sleep before 12 a.m. and nobody called me through the night —which is rare — I wake up around 6 a.m. I pray for a bit. I check my phone to see if anyone from the hospital has called me, and I sigh in relief when I meet an empty screen.
I have my bath at 6:30 a.m., wear my clothes, and I’m off to the ward by 6:55 a.m. It takes me twenty minutes to get to the ward from the medical officers quarters, and I arrive at 7:15 a.m.
As the most junior doctor in the unit, I start my day by administering medications to all the patients — sometimes as many as 31 patients to one house officer — on the ward. In between, I have to clerk, document and ensure that no patient died over the night or is dying. I’m also somehow miraculously expected to do all these tasks before the “official” resumption time of 8 a.m.
Woke up to my friend crying that he hadn't eaten a proper meal in 3days and is being forced to go and give chemotherapy.
Its utterly disgusting that you would owe a House Officer for over 3 months and then ask the same person to provide care to a ward of over 30 patients 24/7.
On paper, ward rounds start at 8 a.m., but because nobody cares about the time of a house officer, the senior doctors stroll in whenever they want. Today, they arrive a few minutes to 9 a.m., and I’m put on secretary duty. My job during the round is to write down things like: “Patient seen.” “Carry out xx test.” “Patient doesn’t have money.”
After a while, I zone out.
It’s afternoon by the time we’re done with the rounds. It sucks, but I’ve been assigned one of the most ghetto tasks — mop ups. My bosses have left me to figure out how to run the tests the patients need. One patient needs an X-ray, another needs blood, and someone needs to see a specialist team.
My eyes are starting to turn, so I sneak off for lunch.
Post-Lunch: I ran some tests. Argued with a patient relative over buying of medications. Begged another patient’s relative to kindly run some tests. Survived.
It’s 6 p.m. when I finally catch a break. I can’t rest for long because it’s time to administer evening medications to the patients. It takes me an hour and thirty minutes. I leave the ward dragging my feet in search of dinner and maybe a shower or a nap. I’m barely at my quarters before I get a call from the Accident and Emergency unit— there’s a patient gasping for air. I grudgingly turn back. My long day is about to get even longer.
TUESDAY:
Theatre days are a whole new struggle. You have to go to the blood bank to “fight” for blood the night before major surgeries. Your job is to beg the scientist to keep at least two to three pints of blood for your patient. Then your Senior Registrar [SR] will call you at 4 a.m. to go to the blood bank and ensure that your patient’s blood is ready.
This is where it gets tricky.
You’ll hear either one of two things — your patient’s blood is ready or they gave out the blood overnight because of scarcity. If you hear the latter, that’s the beginning of your problems because your S.R is just going to shout at you for something that’s not your fault. If you’re lucky and you get blood, you move on to stage two, which is carrying the unit bag. This contains sutures and other equipment needed for surgery. If your village people are with you and you fall under the general surgery unit, your unit bag can be as heavy as a small adult.
I sincerely do not recommend.
The next step is to carry the bag to the theatre and prep your patient around 7 a.m. The surgery may not start until 10 – 11 a.m. and before it starts, it’s the house officers job to run around for whatever the patient needs or may be missing from the bag. During the surgery, your role is to run random errands like fetch heated normal saline or pass equipment.
Your role is to also get shouted at. Everybody shouts at you — from the porters to the nurses to your senior colleagues. The house officer is fair game for everyone’s frustrations.
From consultant To Senior Registrar To Registrar To Nurse To Orderly
After surgery, the house officer’s job consists of waiting in the recovery room to monitor the patient’s vitals every twenty minutes and relaying this information to your oga real-time. After about four hours, and if vitals are stable, you may then be either allowed to leave or ordered to wait until the patient is transferred to the ward. Unending problem everywhere.
I’ve come to a conclusion: house job is just one long year of similar stressful days repeated over and over again.
WEDNESDAY:
By some miracle, I have a few hours of “free” time today. However, I’m too worried to relax because I fear that the hospital can call me at any time. Ever since I started my house job, I get a mini-heart attack anytime my phone rings. I’m always worried that something has happened and they need me in the ward.
If I can get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, I’ll be fine. Is that too much to ask for?
THURSDAY:
The most challenging unit for me is the Accidents and Emergency [A/E] unit. It’s stressful witnessing the lived experiences of patients. Some patients come in terrible states after being mismanaged by quacks for Typhoid and Malaria, which is an illness that doesn’t exist.
I hate the phrase Typhoid and Malaria.
By the time the patients get to our hospital, they’re already in critical condition and there’s not so much we can do. To worsen their case, they have to battle mosquitoes, hard examination beds, and no admission bed space at the A/E. Some patients come to the hospital with only a thousand naira. Where do you start helping them from? It sucks because there’s no insurance and all payment is out of pocket.
I’m tired of losing patients to things they don’t need to die for. At the end of the day, I’m only one house officer managing a big emergency room.
This silent struggle is why I get sad when patients beat up doctors. Half the time, I want to scream, “See how Nigeria is messing both of us up. I too am a victim of the system.” It’s ironic that you’re beating me up when I’ve not been paid in months, and I also haven’t slept well in days.
Today, I got a message on our house officers group chat: “Violent relative in the ward. The person has broken examination tables and chairs and promised to kill any doctor in sight.” That was my cue to take off my ward coat, gingerly wrap it in my bag and sneak into the call room to hide. For a few minutes, I was not a doctor. I was just a baby girl trying to live long enough to enjoy the salary she slaved for.
FRIDAY:
Today I’m thinking of how house job completely erases the possibility of staying back for many doctors. And it’s because of many little rubbish like not having sample bottles to take blood samples, or being owed salary and still being expected to show up. Is it the call rooms with rats as landlords? What of overnight call food which is definitely not fit for human consumption? Nobody cares about the house officer.
This is Dr Okorie Ifeanyi Venatus,an intern Doctor in UPTH. He collapsed with his forehead to the ground after a 72 hour shift as the only House Officer in the unit.
He and other intern Doctors all over Nigeria have not been paid for 3 months now (Since December 2020). pic.twitter.com/46JnYhnwcE
I’ve left them to their rubbish. In the middle of house job, I wrote IELTS and told God: “I’ll not die in this country.” I also wrote PLAB 1 exams as the first step of japa.
In my 500 level, I had the privilege to practice clinical medicine abroad, where it works, and trust me it’s sweet. Forget all the dragging doctors get on Twitter, medicine is a noble profession. Doctors are badass and it’s not beans. I know that if I stay in Nigeria I’ll never get that feeling of fulfilment. Anyone that has seen the miracles of medicine where the system works will always want that feeling. In addition to that nice feeling, the money also correlates.
I’m not ashamed to say that my ideal future involves a shit load of money. I have dreams of owning a house in the countryside, running a small yoghurt shop as a hobby and being a plant mom. I’ll also throw in a little travelling and some random rich people’s activities in the mix.
If I stay back to practise medicine in Nigeria, I fear that I may never achieve those dreams.
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.
Have you ever tried to buy a wig from an online vendor? If you have, then you know these struggles all too well.
1) Price of wig
You see a beautiful wig; double drawn, inches are inching, the curls are bouncing as they should. While still looking at the beauty that is the wig, you click on the “more” on the Instagram caption, and gbam! The wig costs three months salary.
2) Shedding
You buy a wig, and after brushing it a few times, it starts to shed. O wrong nau. Wig, not Beast from Beauty and the Beast.
3) Late replies
You message them on Monday, they reply you on Thursday. What makes it worse is when they now tell you it is unavailable.
4) False Advertising
They will advertise human hair, but send you synthetic. The annoying thing is them charging human hair price.
5) Sales
They do sales almost every two to three business weeks, but then the stories that follow those sales…
6) Wigging
Some places claim to be wig stores, but then they only have bundles advertised on their page and have the audacity to charge extra for wigging. If you want to be a bundles seller, please say so.
7) No physical location
When they now do rubbish for you, you do not have a place to go and fight. You will now have to settle for dragging them on Instagram and Twitter.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
This weeks’ #Nairalife was made possible by FCMB’s promise of quality medical care from the comfort of your home.
What is your oldest memory of money
I was on my way to school — I was in JSS 3 at the time — my money was in my breast pocket. I sat inside the danfo, and as I was about to give the conductor money, I checked my pocket and the money was not there.
Ah.
My pocket had torn. After the conductor yabbed me, one woman pitied me and paid for me. I was 14, and this was 1999.
Now, about that torn uniform…
Life was tough. My mum used to go to a big pharmacy and help them sell drugs. Sometimes, I’d have gone to sleep by the time she got back. The only time I saw her was on weekends.
The only adult who was at home with us was an aunty and she was mean. I couldn’t tell her if I had any problems sef.
Ah, that struggle. What about your dad?
My dad used to work with another family member to do construction work. When it got to a point and things weren’t working out, he decided to leave the country. The thing is, leaving the country to America and Europe was hard if you didn’t have money. So he went to Pakistan. I know he used to go to other Asian countries from there, but Pakistan was his main base.
I know this because I overheard him talking about it with my mum.
What changed when he got there?
At first, nothing. You know there weren’t GSMs then. We used to go to a place to make calls on NITEL phones. So after we, first of all, confirmed that he’d reached Pakistan, we didn’t hear from him for a long time.
How long?
About a year and a half.
Ah!
Things got hard. So hard that I had to go live with my grandpa. When my father finally called, it was to tell us that he actually got arrested. He was in the wrong place, with the wrong people. But they’d already released him, which was why he was calling.
What did they hold him, or the people he was with for?
The people that helped him travel were into shady stuff over there. He came back in 1996, and I remember everything getting better. In fact, we moved from a ‘face-me-I-face-you’ to a flat. He went back to working in construction. Then people started sending him clothes to sell from Pakistan — Jalabiyas and all that. When it looked like that was picking up, he travelled to Pakistan again.
Then. Sigh.
Then what?
I went to school and when I came back, there was a crowd inside our house, and people were crying…
Sigh
Someone walked up to me and said, you’re a man, don’t cry. Your daddy is dead.
I’m so sorry man.
I cried ehn. They said he felt sick, went to the hospital, got admitted, and died there.
What did this mean for you and the family?
It was as if when he died, he went with all the money. We know he had some small investments, but we didn’t know where. We know he had friends owing him, but we didn’t know who. In fact, I remember that one of his friends came in 2007. He said that my dad’s spirit was disturbing him to return his money to his family.
Interesting. How much did he return?
₦100k. He said he was going to bring the rest. He didn’t say the amount sha. The only thing my mother had was her shop. That shop was the only source of income for the family. When the stock went dry, I had to get a job, so I went to work at a video club for two years. That paid me ₦3,500. By the end of the first year, my salary climbed to ₦5k.
You were 18 years old when you started.
Yes. I used to give my mum ₦1,500, then I later added ₦500 to it. The rest was for my upkeep. Later, my sister started her own video club, and I was managing it.
How many people were living in your house at the time?
Like 10 o.
Ah.
We’re four children, but my mum went to pack her brother’s children. Three of them were staying with us. That harsh aunty too. Then someone else joined.
A lot of mouths to feed.
My mum likes her family more than herself. She was a petty trader and took care of all of them from that petty trading. They left when they could and never looked back. That meant that I had to figure out how to take care of myself. Especially after I entered University in 2006.
Ah, nice.
I had an aunty – my dad’s younger sister – who was trying to take care of us. But she said the pressure was getting too much on her. She had her own kids and suggested that the best thing to do was to get a job. So she helped me get a job in the Civil Service. I entered with my SSCE.
Hmm. Tell me about your first salary.
They paid my 6 months at once for the period I spent in training school. This was 2009.
How much?
₦155k. Total.
What was it like the day it first entered?
Nothing. The people who’d been helping me calculate it were already expecting it. I went to Lagos the next day and I gave my mum ₦50k. I started at Level 5 and the salary was ₦26k then. It’s now about ₦45k.
So, when did you graduate?
December 2011. Computer Science. Now, the way it works is this. When you start with an SSCE and you have a complete result – that is with Maths and English – you get into Level 5. When you don’t have a pass in any of these, you start in level 3 or 4.
But now that I’ve gotten a degree, I should be in Level 8, but I’m not. People are promoting only their people. I’m still stuck in Level 6.
How much is a Level 6 salary?
₦51k.
Tell me how your salary has grown since 2011. Year-on-year.
They add ₦400 yearly to the monthly take-home. But when I got promoted to Level 6 in 2016, it got increased to ₦50k. Then they started adding ₦500 per year.
Between 2009 and now, which responsibilities have you added?
Marriage in 2015, a child in 2016. My wife started working in 2017.
What’s your current household income?
The combination of my salary and my wife’s salary? ₦110k.
Other expenses are emergencies and miscellaneous.
Tell me about those.
My son gets sick sometimes. The last two times, we paid up to ₦25k for medicine alone.
Don’t you have health insurance?
I have, but I always need to go outside to buy drugs, and my health insurance doesn’t cover that.
How much do you feel like you should be earning right now? After 10 years of experience?
At least ₦130k. But If I get promoted as I should, I’ll be earning ₦70k.
What is something you need but can’t afford right now?
I want to move to either Canada, USA or any European country. I want to leave this country, and try to help from there. People are suffering.
I’m wondering if there’s an actual plan towards this
There’s a plan, but there’s no money. To be honest, I’m cautious too, because I’ve got duped before. I gave someone my NYSC savings of ₦120k. My sister added another ₦120k, and we lost everything. This was in 2013.
Have you ever considered picking up a skill that will fetch you more money on the side?
I’m thinking of learning barbing, I hear it’s very useful when you travel abroad. There are other things I’m interested in learning. I’d like to learn photography, design or programming. The problem is that these ones need money to start.
Do you have a computer?
No. My phone is so bad that a friend even borrowed me his extra phone to use.
What are some things that will make your life feel better if you buy them?
A laptop, because I can do things with photography and learn other stuff. A car, because I can do some side hustling. Also, having my own house, because rent every year is tough.
What’s the last thing you bought that made you feel better?
The food we were supposed to sell. We ended up eating most of it.
You sell food?
My wife and I decided to collect a cooperative loan last year. We rented a shop at ₦4200 monthly, then decided to start selling foodstuff; rice, beans and all that. Now, we can’t even account for most of the money. The original loan was ₦500k, and we used everything to set up for the shop. For example, a freezer cost ₦110k.
We started the business because we were targeting student areas. And then, the lockdown started.
Eish. And they had to go home.
Now, we can barely account for the money, and we intend to shut down the shop by December.
I know it’s all you want, but do you have any back up plans if the travelling abroad doesn’t work out?
Maybe I’ll start a viewing centre, or a farm.
Do you ever think back at a point in your life where things might have turned out differently?
Football. I’ve played everywhere; in school, at work, in the neighbourhood. I’ve always been the MVP, the one everybody picks to play on their team. I wanted to chase football at some point, but my mum didn’t agree.
Why?
She banned me from going for training. I used to go to lesson instead. You know what’s paining me? I have a certificate I suffered so much to get, yet I’ve never used it.
I want to ask about your financial happiness, on a scale of 1-10, because it’s an essential question.
3. It’s bad. My financial situation is just really bad. That is all.
Have you ever considered leaving the service?
Yes, but there are no guarantees that I’ll find something else in this country. Also, age is no longer on my side. I’m 35 years old.
UPDATE: Upon request from readers, we’ve added a payment link for people interested in sending him some love and light here.
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If you are a Lagosian, chances are that this morning was hell. Well, unless you own a car or can afford Uber and Bolt. For the rest of us, we experienced one or more of the emotions on the list below.
Anger:
The first emotion I felt immediately I woke up this morning was annoyance. What sort of Government decides to leave us stranded overnight?
Powerlessness:
I was weak when I saw the crowd of people struggling for the limited means of transportation today. Is it a crime to be a Lagosian or even Nigerian?
Tiredness:
God, please blow the trumpet.
Worry:
What is going to happen to all these people who are out of a job, are they going to turn on us who are still struggling to earn a living?
A crippling urge to go naked and curse the Government:
My return trip home after work will determine whether this will still happen or not. Till then, stay tuned.
Surprise:
Lyrics to your favorite song slaps differently when it mirrors your current situation. I discovered previously unheard chords on my trekking playlist today. I really am walking away from the troubles in my life.
Sadness:
Seeing older, feeble citizens struggling for buses with the younger generation makes you realize that this country doesn’t care for you along the age spectrum. From young to old, we are all equally fucked.
Agbero:
Some ITK’s will say this not an emotion. Describe the urge to fight and push people in your path to get a bus. If you find a better term, I am open to listening. You can reach me in ratatata land for any objections.
Disgust:
Wetin be this pls. Why am I experiencing this?
Motivation:
This country is trying to kill me and I must start to seek ways of escaping. The plan is to save money from trekking and divert it to writing IELTS. Lagos, Nigeria, e go be.
For all I know, the “being left-handed is bad” gist might just be an olden days version of those yeye Whatsapp broadcast messages that Nigerian parents always believe.
If you want a Nigerian parent to believe something, just send it to them as a WhatsApp BC.
If you ask them who told them now, they’ll say it’s their great-aunt that told their grandmother’s cousin who told them.
I suffered a lot as a leftie, chai! I think my first official struggle was when they squeezed bitter leaf all over my left hand so I would suck on only the right.
When that one did not work, my people now followed bad advice and decided to bandage my left hand. Bandage o, imagine.
All because one woman opened her big mouth to tell them that it’s how she stopped her child from being a leftie.
My people tried all they could, but my left hand was just looking at them like:
Sha sha I learned my lesson eventually, and started rebelling small small.
One time, my uncle visited and as I was pouring juice for him he goes “my friend, will you use your right hand!”
I just continued filling the glass with my earpiece plugged in like:
When I finished he repeated, “I said don’t use your left hand!” Me, I was like:
My father just carried face from both of us. Master of unlooking.
Even in church, there was no peace. Sunday school teachers would be arguing on top my head and I’d just be there like:
One of them even had the mind to say “it’s a sin.”
Thank God for another teacher that saved me from the false prophet and opened Judges 3 vs 15 for us to read.
Defense from Baba God himself??? I just wrote down the verse and taped it to my door for anybody that wanted to form they knew more than God.
When I entered secondary school and started hearing “left handed people are meant to be smarter” I’d just look look at them like:
Fast forward to SS3 when I started having full-blown wings, supported by breasts.
I was just changing it for anybody that had anything negative to say about me being a leftie anyhow.
From pepper seller, to relative, to gateman, I was ready for EVERYBODY!
The first person that chopped my vex was one aunty that came to my house and started doing face, saying she was hungry.
Me, I even formed good girl and started serving her rice. Unfortunately for her, one evil spirit told her to she start shouting “who are you giving food with that left hand?”
Jah Jehovah, I just poured my rice back, locked the kitchen, and went to sleep. Aunty was there like:
They sha held family meeting on my head the next day because they didn’t have work, but wetin concern me?
The one that even chooked me was the cab man that refused to collect his money because I gave him with my left.
I just threw the money at him and walked away laughing and shaking my bum-bum. He was just there angrily shouting:
These days, I’ve started taking “you use your left?” as a call to war and my response is always:
Minus the annoying Nigerians, the left hand itself comes with its own wahala.
When I’m trying to open a car door or flush the toilet and I’m just there like:
Me, trying to wear a dress with the zipper on the left side:
When I’m trying to give a driver directions and I’m there trying to remember which way is left and which one is right.
Me, handling a knife with my right hand and trying not to cut my left off.
When I realized that most things in this world were designed with only right-handed people in mind.
Really, the ultimate test for every leftie is trying to use scissors. Chineke! It might as well be brain surgery.
To be honest, with the way my relatives really carried it on their heads, I’m surprised they didn’t change me. Well, I’m stubborn as hell so…
My aunty even came to the house recently, saw me eating and said “you still dey use this your left hand?”
“Iwo ati owo osi yi” was the mantra of the enemies of progress that tried and failed.
I sha love being left handed. #LeftHandsMatter.
It’s Left-Handers Day! Here are a few life hacks for my fellow lefties! You can also share this with the lefties in your life.
Ever stepped foot in any Nigerian hospital? You begin to wonder why you fell sick in the first place. These situations must have definitely happened to you.
1. When you step in and a whiff of hospital smell hits you
Jesus what is this odor?
2. When all the nurses are shouting like it’s a market place
Aunty nurse calm down, it’s never that deep.
3. The people waiting to see one doctor that is ‘not on seat’
Please, excuse me sah amatyour back.
4. The wait before your card number gets called for consultation
I should just have died at home in peace.
5. Nurses asking you the most questions and checking random things
Ahan, aunty is it modelling audition we are doing here?
6. When they try to check your temperature with the back of their hand
Wait, what? In this 21st century?
7. When the doctor asks “what’s wrong with you”
How am I supposed to know? Is that not your job sir? That is why I came here fam.
8. And he proceeds to press the spot that hurts repeatedly
Come on now, are you checking for pain at all? Why are you pressing it like fresh bread?
9. When the doctor goes “I will diagnose you and prescribe some drugs”
Okay now captain obvious.
10. When he finally does his math and says “it is malaria”
After all your pressing and writing story, everytime ordinary malaria or typhoid.
11. Trying to read the doctors handwriting
Why is everything looking like his signature?
12. Looking at your prescription slip
For only malaria?
13. When the nurses say “remove your trouser for injection”
Smh you can’t even sweet talk me small, so harsh so rude.
14. On ‘admission’ and they wake you up from sleep to take your sleeping meds
ARE YOU SERIOUS?????
15. When the nurses sleep off and forget to change your drip and it has finished
Murderers!
16. When you are finally well and they don’t want to discharge you
I SAID I AM FEELING FINE! Please let me go what is this imprisonment????
1. Whenever you remember our politicians are literally the worst.
No seriously, will you die if you fix the roads?
2. When everything, somehow, someway always boils down to tribe and religion.
One would think that 55 years after independence we would get along better, but no, we’re still squabbling like it’s 1960.
3. When you think about the internet struggle.
One minute you’re watching that video that everyone on Twitter is talking about, next minute all your airtime is gone.
4. When you remember our outrageously expensive National Assembly.
Why are they so many? Why do they cost us so much? Why do they receive so many allowances? What do they actually do to earn all that money?
5. When you can’t even remember a Nigeria without generator noise.
Those things are so noisy! How is everyone in Nigeria not mad and deaf yet?
6. When you have to suffer the fake, ear-bleeding accents of our radio and TV personalities.
Yeah, we get it. You’re an ‘ajebutter’, you’re posh and all of that, but please can you stop?
7. Whenever you remember the value of the naira.
1 Dollar = N199.25; 1 Pound = N305.45; 1 Euro = N220.11. #dasall
8. When it feels like all Government agencies are in some grand conspiracy to frustrate us.
NYSC registration? Getting a new passport? Renewing your driver’s license? Prepare to be frustrated. Do I really need to give you my name, age, address and colour of my underwear again?
9. When no one you know seems to mind their business.
How does it really concern you that he doesn’t have a wife yet? Or that your neighbour’s daughter has pink hair? Or that I did not go to church?
10. When you realize that you are your own government.
You provide everything for yourself, electricity, water, healthcare, education, security and even roads. Explain to me why we have a government again?
11. When you have to travel by air.
You’ve either been a victim of Nigerian air travel or you know someone who has. If your flight isn’t taking off 7hours late, you’re in Calabar and your luggage is in Yola.
12. Whenever you have to enter public transport.
The whole thing is just a nightmare.
13. When you have to deal with a police officer.
Am I the only one afraid of the police? There are good ones dedicated to their jobs, sure, but the rest…#nocomment.
14. When you don’t get why Landlords ask for 2 years rent upfront.
…and that’s minus the host of other fees.
15. When it dawns on you that you live in constant fear of one chance and armed robbers.
Do I really need to elaborate on this?
Let’s face it, being Nigerian is hard and stressful and some days you wish you could relocate to some remote island and forget about everything…
But the truth of the matter is that, Nigeria is home and even though we have so many problems, these problems make us stronger and give us insane survival skills…
And besides, can you imagine life without party jollof and small chops?
Written by Zikoko Contributor @IdomaGirl.
