Notice: Function _load_textdomain_just_in_time was called incorrectly. Translation loading for the wordpress-seo domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home/bcm/src/dev/www/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6121 young Nigerians | Zikoko!
Apart from Christmas and New Year’s, one holiday that excited me as a child was Children’s Day. Listen, it was a thing at home and in school. My mum made it a point to take us out, there was always a special activity or two in school, and a party for kids in our estate.
As an adult, it’s safe to say all that excitement has gone with the wind. Children’s Day is four days away, and I really couldn’t give a rat’s ass about it. It doesn’t help that it falls on capitalism’s favourite day of the week, Monday. But I recently caught a friend’s WhatsApp status and she seemed pretty giddy about it, and for a moment, I envied her. I missed that little boy who used to love this holiday and all other childish things.
Curiosity made me slide into her DM and find six other Nigerians to share how they keep their inner child alive.
Demola*, 31
I indulge on those things that seemed elusive as a child because of money. Like buying ₦20k suya that I can’t finish, buying stupid gadgets I never use, withdrawing money just to stare at it, binge-watching anime and cartoons and anonymously commenting things that’ll sound stupid to any adult online.
Nofisat*, 28
I’m the only child of my parents, so I’ll always be the baby of the house. When adulthood comes with all its wahala, I just pack my bag and go back home to spend time with my parents. There’s a way they dote on me that makes me feel childlike. I can’t explain it, and I also don’t know if it’s the “only child” factor. My room has stayed the same for as long as I remember. So it still gives me that nostalgia of my little self getting prepped to go to school in the morning.
Aishat*, 29
I try to keep doing the things I enjoy even if there’s no one to tag along. I attend a lot of events that are themed around adults having fun like children, like fun fairs. I also surround myself with people who enjoy the same things, and it helps me stay in touch with my inner child.
[ad]
Bolanle*, 40
Toys were my thing as a child. Think of all the superhero figures, barbie sets, Legos, stuffed teddies, I had them all. On every birthday, I was always so excited about the new toys I’d add to my collection. At some point, I started saving up to buy the toys. As an adult, this love for toys has translated into a love for gadgets. Kitchen, home, office, bathroom and accessories, I’m always curious about all these things, so I end up buying them. It always makes me feel like I just got a new toy.
Dotun*, 37
I spend an obscene amount of time watching cartoons, and I’m a complete irritant while at it. You’ll see me laughing loudly and even pausing to mimic some of the characters. I remember an ex-girlfriend said, “I’m too old to be acting a fool for cartoons.” We had a fight afterwards. Life is hard enough and these cartoons help me forget I’m a man with bills to pay and other adulthood troubles to deal with.
Kenny*, 30
I eat a lot of junk food. This was a big part of my childhood. It was a thing with my mum because she used to get us biscuits, sweets and all sorts whenever we were shopping for school resumption. She didn’t just buy what she thought we would like, she took us along and we got to pick the stuff we liked. As an adult, that’s something that makes me feel like a child all over again, whether it’s when I’m eating or shopping for junk. I always have a special budget for it when I shop for groceries. Some of the traders assume I’m shopping for kids. I don’t even bother to tell them that I’m the big baby that needs spoiling.
James*, 25
I like playing a lot. I’m the uncle kids love to have around because they know I’ll roll in the dirt with them if they want me to. I’m the uncle who’ll sit down to play with their toys, play hide and seek and watch cartoons with them. I remember attending this house party with some new friends and when they asked for game suggestions I mentioned “boju boju”. Everybody had this “Guy, really?” expression on their face. If only they knew I was dead serious.
Legal wills may always be a controversial subject in a conservative country like Nigeria. Like, why are you writing a will when you’re not married, old or bastardly rich? Or, are you planning to die?
The recent conversations around the late singer, Mohbad, having a will at 26-year-old inspired me to ask other young people who have (or are planning to have) wills why they wrote one, including their general thoughts about it.
Tobi, 26
I wrote a will after I bought my first landed property at 25, and it was because of what I experienced from home.
My mum saw plenty shege after my dad’s death because he didn’t have a will. He only had the deed to his house. After he died, his siblings stole the deed and sold the house. We couldn’t fight it because we had no proof of ownership.
I promised myself a thing like that would never happen again. Hence, the will. I also have a notarised document stating who gets my pension from work in the event of my death.
I’ll keep updating my will as I get more assets. I don’t want to hear story when I’m supposed to be resting on the other side.
Zee, 21
I plan to write my will this year. I have €10k in savings, and €15k in stocks. I also save €2k every month. I live in the Netherlands and intend to buy a house via mortgage this year. I’ll write my will afterwards.
I believe a will is necessary once you start having assets. To be honest, I just got the conviction to create one as soon as possible. A friend tweeted about writing their own will, and I decided I needed to write mine too. I think I would’ve still considered it sometime this year, though.
I haven’t actively started the process, but all I need is to draft the document with a lawyer and then notarise it to make it legal. I can also draw up the will in Nigeria, as long as it aligns with Dutch law since my assets are here.
Isa, 32
I wrote my will at 30, and I think it’s brilliant to know who is getting what after you’re gone.
I’m unmarried without kids, but I know life is transient. Anything can happen at any time. So, even though I didn’t exactly have a reason to do it, I felt I had to. I spoke with a lawyer friend, and we drafted the document. The writing, corrections and confirmation process took about three weeks. Then we signed it with witnesses present.
Now, there’s a sense of relief knowing that that’s out of the way. If I leave Earth today, I can still put smiles on people’s faces. It’s my gift to the universe.
Ayo, 24
I don’t have a will yet, but I have a password-encrypted document that has all my asset information— bank accounts, crypto wallet passwords and shares.
I’ve also scheduled an automated email to send this document to my sister next year, with a reminder on my calendar to reschedule two days prior to sending time. If I’m still alive by then, I’ll reschedule the send date. If not, the email is sent.
I’ll eventually write a legal will when I start amassing concrete assets like landed property or when I get married. For now, the document suffices because most of my assets are password-based, and I want my sister to have everything.
Arin, 25
All my assets are currently in my bank account, and my immediate siblings have the details. I come from a polygamous family and know people whose families started fighting battles among each other when their father died.
I don’t know if my dad has a will, and I’m not putting my mind there. My own goal is to make money and write a will to clearly outline who I want it to go to when the time comes. I’m hoping I do this before 35.
At the moment, my other focus is to find a legal way to dictate who gets my pension. I always thought just having a “Next of kin” sufficed, but I recently learned it doesn’t. So, I plan to find a legal solution to it this year.
Zoey, 23
I don’t have a will because I don’t have assets, but I think anyone above 18 with assets should have a will. At the latest, you should have one by 45. Life expectancy in Nigeria is 55 — with other things being equal — so one needs to put their affairs in order around this age.
You also read about the potential challenges involved with not having a will:
Creator Spotlight is a weekly series celebrating young Nigerians in the creative industry doing unique things. Everyone has a story, and Zikoko wants to tell it.
Hi, I’m Jeiel, a singer, songwriter and actor. I played Olive in the YouTube drama Best Friends in the World. I used to be into sports but haven’t had time for it between work and school. I’m obsessed with fashion. Right now, I’m working on music; it’s my first solo thing. Writing and reading are therapeutic for me. I write songs and wrote a book in 2020. I’m working on a second one.
How old were you when you wrote your first book?
I was 17. It was during the pandemic period, and I was bored. I’d written many short stories before but never completed them. One day, I just went on my Instagram and was like, “Hey guys, my new book is coming out in three days”. I hadn’t written anything, so that literally forced me to write since people were now expecting a book. But I’m never doing that again. That was horrible.
Wait, you wrote a book in three days?
I wrote the first seven chapters in three days, then posted the remaining chapters on Wattpad every week. So I had time to catch up and finish it. It’s called “Honey Eyes”.
After you, na you. How do you get into so many things?
I grew up in a family that encouraged me to be multifaceted regarding things we wanted to do. It didn’t matter how big or small our interest was. My parents would always push us towards them. I’ve always had a wide range of interests in the entertainment industry. As soon as I could speak, I was making music with my sisters. We called ourselves Triple J Plus. We’re still a band, but right now, we’re focused on film. We released an album called Story, and it was kind of Christian-oriented but infused with pop elements. That kickstarted my love for music.
What about acting?
In 2018, when I was 15, my sisters had just finished film school. They came back to Nigeria and wanted to work on their first project. I wasn’t even interested in acting at the time. I wanted to be the next Ted Baker or Versace. But while prepping for their short film New Girl, the main actress playing Olive, and her understudy, didn’t appear on the first day of the shoot. I was supposed to be an extra with a five-second screen time just to support my sisters. I wanted to be behind the scenes helping the actors learn their lines or whatever department needed help.
We went home disappointed, and my mum was like, “Are you guys even thinking? You need a 15-year-old girl. Your sister is 15”. It didn’t help that while I was helping the actors with their lines, I pretty much learnt everything. So they asked me to take the uniform and do whatever I wanted. The next day, I ended up playing Olive, and that’s how my journey as an actress began.
It doesn’t seem like you were happy about it
It was so embarrassing because it wasn’t my best work, and I felt like I could do better. I told myself I would die of embarrassment if 100 people saw it. A week after, it was at 200k views. I was excited, but I also wanted them to take it down. Soon it was 500k and then 1m. This was during the lockdown in 2020.Soon it was 500k and then 1m. This was during the lockdown in 2020. At some point, we stopped checking because it was just scary. This was our pet project. We didn’t expect this many people to see it.
The fact that so many people were invested in the story when it wasn’t the best we could put out was mind-blowing. All the comments were like, “Oh my God, the actors are so good. You guys should make it a series”. It wasn’t the plan, but my sisters were down.
Halfway through the first season, I realised it was something I’d want to do for the rest of my life. It felt right. I liked stepping into another character and being someone else. When I was younger, I wanted to be so many things; this was my chance to be all the things I wanted to be through acting. From there, I started doing my research and taking classes to learn how to act, and it grew on me.
You took acting classes? Nollywood, when?
They weren’t professional classes. I watched YouTube videos and lots of high-school movies. The number one for me was Hannah Montana. I binge-watched season one to the end right before we started shooting. I watched a lot of Netflix teen shows too. An old movie called The Breakfast Club taught me so much about passionate acting. I read scripts from movies I’d watched and tried to act them out exactly. I focused more on sitcoms because of the comedy delivery. Best Friends in the World is more of a sitcom than a drama.
I wanted to put in the work even though I’d already got the role. I didn’t want anyone to think it was just because my sisters produced it. But even after all my hard work, people still left comments about me getting the role because of my sisters.
How much of Olive’s character is you?
When I first met her character in the first season, I’d always ask my sister, “Why is Olive doing this? She’s so annoying. If it was me, I would slap her”. My sister would say, ”This isn’t supposed to be you. Be Olive”.
Olive always wants to help people even if they don’t like her. Sometimes, I strive to be like that. We didn’t have a lot of similarities, but it would’ve been harder to be authentic if we did. s I got to know her, I began to empathise with her, and she became my best friend and sister. We have more similarities now, like how she loves her friends as fiercely as I do. She’s definitely taught me a lot of things over the past five years that I would’ve never learnt on my own or as quickly.For example, she’s terrible at communicating when she needs help. Yet once you offer, she’ll accept it. I’m not great at accepting help. She trusts and loves her mum, and that really strengthened my relationship with mine even though we were close before. I also became very attentive because Olive always paid attention to people. She’s very opinionated and strong-willed. In this world, people have opinions and want you to have those same opinions. I’m working on finding my voice and being more confident in who I am. And I learnt that from her character.
Oh wow, and that actually works?
It’s a work in progress because some days are harder than others. You need to have a certain level of confidence in yourself and your skills. In the beginning, my confidence was shaky 90 per cent of the time. I was always second-guessing myself, always asking questions like I didn’t know what I was doing. During the second season, senior year, I started to say things like, “Oh, she would definitely do this. She wouldn’t do it like that”, and it started to translate on screen, better than in the first season. Hopefully, people saw the growth in me as an actor.
You were 15. How did you juggle work and school?
It was exhausting but also rewarding, which is why I keep doing it. I didn’t want to do the first season, go to school for two or three years and be forgotten. So I chose an online school, which has a really flexible schedule. You could do all your homework for the month in a day. You can also take time off. I remember when we were shooting, I took two months off school because it was too much for me. My sisters would also give me time off from shooting to focus on school or just relax. Nothing suffered. Thank God for that.
How does it feel to be God’s favourite?
I always complain that they’ve spoiled me because I know it won’t be like this when I’m working for other people. It’s made me really grateful. As much as it’s easier here for us, I think I’m also mentally prepared to work with other production companies. There were times when my co-stars had busy schedules, and we had to shoot multiple episodes in a week or few days. I didn’t have the luxury to space out my schedule. Still, it was the best of both worlds, working hard sometimes and chilling.
Are you working on other productions now?
For now, I want to keep working with my sisters. They’re great at what they do. Jesi has figured out where Nollywood should stop and Hollywood takes over and is great at blending both standards. I’m not saying I don’t want to work with any Nigerian writers or producers. But there’s a gap because there are no actors my age or younger. They give those roles to older people. I’m still waiting for a big teen film where I’d see actors my age.
Maybe teenagers are hard to work with? Did your team have those sorts of problems on set?
If I’m being honest, I’m Gen Z, and I think I’m difficult sometimes. But you’ll find millennials who are hard to work with and baby boomers who are easier. People just need to be willing to give teenagers a chance. I’ve met so many talented people on our sets. If I could make 20 different films and cast all of them, I would. But I can’t. We just need to be given a chance to show we’re capable and aren’t as difficult as people assume we are.
Your sisters are doing a great job of platforming them. I keep seeing fresh faces
Yes, they are. Fun fact: the guy’s who played Adam and Roberts are my best friends. Some of the other actors are my friends from school. A lot of them had strong acting backgrounds, like Esther, who graduated from the University of Uyo with a theatre arts degree. They realised they wanted to act, and it’s something they’re good at, all because someone gave them a chance.
That sounds so soft. Who influences you as an actress?
I look up to actors who are versatile and embody their characters. I’m obsessed with Viola Davis, Natalie Portman, Octavia Spencer, Lupita is my queen and Timothée Chalamet. I like Robert Pattinson; after his Twilight era, he returned better. Nicole Kidman inspires me to act in more versatile roles. Olive is pretty much a teenager, but I want to do more weird characters set in fantasy worlds.
What about your music?
I’m kind of leaning towards alternative indie music. My music is influenced by the stuff I listen to, and I didn’t start listening to Nigerian music until 2018. I’m still new to it, so it hasn’t had the time to influence what I write. I listen to more American singers like Billie Eilish before she became famous, Sabrina Carpenter, Sasha Sloan, Julia Michael and Bea Miller. They’re honest with their music.
So no Nigerian makes the list of inspirations?
There’s Victony and Young John, Omah Lay, Joeboy, Fireboy, Asake, Burna Boy and Reekado Banks. Ayra Starr — I can’t decide whether I love her or am jealous of her because she’s so good and she’s my age. Like, God, I don’t want to be a mechanic; I want to be a baller.
Please, you’re not a mechanic. But what do you plan to do differently with your music to get people’s attention?
For me, music is a means of communicating because I’m a terrible communicator in real life. I’ll have a mountain of problems, and I won’t tell anyone. I want to be an honest artist who talks about relatable things — music that makes you feel understood and less alone. I want to write songs to make people feel like the world isn’t such a big, bad place, especially in Nigeria, where our instinct is to suppress our feelings and invalidate our emotions.
Whew. Between acting and music, do you rest?
I make TikToks, but it still feels like work. I always have to plan the perfect outfit, learn the dance and ensure it comes out great. When I’m not doing that, I hang out with my family, and if I want to be alone, I just listen to music and think. There’s never a time when I’m not working or thinking about work. But they don’t feel like work. They’re hobbies I’ll eventually make money from.
Wait, you’re not making any money yet?
The streams are good, but on YouTube, you’re only paid for the ads people watch. Everyone skips ads, so it doesn’t count. We get like five cents, ten cents, a dollar, if the ad is like 30 minutes. And there’s a 30 per cent tax on YouTube revenue for Nigerian creators. We’re making next to nothing, and it all goes back to production. We have to feed, transport and pay for locations. We’re also paying off debt because we borrowed money from our parents. We’ll probably do that for the rest of our lives.
How do you pay the actors, though?
When we wrote our contract for the show, we made it clear we wouldn’t be able to pay anyone. But at the end of this last season, we did a little gratuity thing to thank them for the past five years. It wasn’t a lot, and Lord knows they deserve so much more. We’re just thinking of it as an investment into our future because we know for sure our next few projects will have sponsors. It’ll be worth it.
What’s your favourite thing about what you do?
Every time we upload an episode, I love seeing how the fans react to my work and the project as a whole. All I do is read comments. It makes me so happy. That’s my payment. Even the mean comments, I read them because there’s a bit of truth sometimes. I’ve even accepted Olive as my new name and stopped correcting people.
Want to leave a message for your fans?
I just want to thank them. Without them, our production wouldn’t be where we are right now. I’m really grateful for all the love. Some people randomly start over from season one. I haven’t felt that kind of devotion before. Nigerians definitely know how to support their own. Even non-Nigerians support us. We’re working on a new project, and I’m really excited for them to see it. It’ll be bigger and better.
What do you plan to do in the next couple of years?
A lot of music and other projects. Even if it doesn’t give me as much income, I’m more of a quality-over-quantity kind of person. I model when I’m not acting and get paid well enough. In the far future, I want to open a cafe and invest in different things. I also want to start my own fashion line. I’m definitely not putting my eggs in one basket. My dad taught me better.
Finally, Would you have done things differently? Like just enjoyed being a teenager?
Those five years on set were pretty much my formative years. Sometimes, I wish I could’ve taken the normal route. There’s also the fact that my dad is a famous preacher. I used to wish I was a farmer’s daughter in some village. But I couldn’t have asked for better. It was a really wholesome set, very family and friends-oriented. We had premiere parties at the camp where we shot the series, or at home, whenever an episode was released. We’d dance, eat and sing. It was peaceful, and as much as I felt lost sometimes, I started to see the world more maturely.
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.
After today’s subject on #NairaLife was fired from her ₦200k/month job in 2020, she found remote work and hasn’t looked back since. Since then, she’s gone from $50k to $93k a year, and she’s only 24.
What’s your earliest memory of money?
As a child, I was hell-bent on making my own money. Even today, my dad talks about how much I loved money. I never had a “baby of the house” phase. I’m the firstborn, and my brother was born shortly after me. I had to learn to share from a young age, so it was just natural to want my own stuff.
From my pocket money in primary school, I bought soft drinks and sold them to my parents and neighbours for twice the price. They patronised me because I was a child. My dad was always excited to see me try to make money. He encouraged me by having conversations about career with me and giving me books to read. I read Rich Dad, Poor Dad when I was nine.
But were things good at home?
I’d say we were a lower-middle-class family for the early stages of my life. My dad was a government contractor and my mum was a civil servant. In 2008, when I was 10, our luck changed. My dad got a super contract that single-handedly moved us to being rich rich. We started travelling abroad for holidays, shopping in malls, getting cars, drivers, etc.
This continued until 2015 when my dad invested a ton of money in an infrastructure-based contract that turned bad. Because it was a government contract, people advised him to withdraw and just leave his money if he didn’t want to risk his life.
Ah.
By this time, I was in my second year in university, getting a ₦50k allowance monthly. Thankfully, I saved about ₦30k of it because I didn’t need to spend so much. As things got worse, my dad had to sell assets and borrow money to pay our school fees. On some months, he couldn’t give us allowances, so I had to survive on my savings from both my allowance and the internships I was doing since I was 14.
You were doing internships at 14?
People have always told me I’m ambitious, but really, I just hate being idle. Internships, when I was younger, were just me trying to figure out what I wanted to do in the future.
I wanted to become a journalist, so I worked at a magazine publishing company owned by my dad’s friend. This was in 2012. It paid ₦5k per week for the four weeks I worked there. I basically sat and watched movies all day every day, except the one time I followed the crew out to take celebrity pictures. It was too stressful running around trying to get pictures. That experience and someone telling me journalists didn’t make much money made me cross journalism off my career to-do list.
In 2013, I got an internship at an airline through another of my dad’s friends. It paid ₦10k for the one month I was there. I got to the office and read a book every day. On some days, I was sent on errands. But in that period, I learnt how organisations work and how people communicate in workplaces.
Then you started university in 2014.
And I was still doing internships. This time, it was with an advertising agency. I picked calls and sat in on different teams’ meetings. That’s where I first learnt about content marketing and strategy. In 2015, I went back to intern there again.
So, back to my family wahala. I didn’t notice the shift from being lower-middle-class to being rich like I noticed the shift from being rich back to being lower-middle-class. I was older and much more aware, and seeing my family suffer made me desire to have money even more.
You’ve been working since you were 14. How are you not burnt out?
Oh, I’ve burnt out a few times. The first time was in 2017. A friend passed away towards the end of my internship and all the work stress I’d been carrying just broke like a dam, so I wasn’t focusing during those last few weeks. I also burnt out quite a bit as time went on. Even last year.
Interesting. Let’s go back to your many jobs.
In 2016/2017, I worked at an experiential marketing agency for my school IT. I absolutely hated it. The stress was too much. Experiential marketing means you have to run around to make the campaign work out. Thankfully, my allowance was still coming in trickles, so I could survive.
Before I graduated in 2018, I spoke at a school career fair, and a man from some big company approached me to hire me. He liked my speech and they were looking for an intern. It was April, and I thought it was going to be a summer internship, so I said I was interested. A few days later, some people from the company called me to interview me and ask when I could resume. That’s how I started working while I was in my final year. I went to the office only on Fridays and my salary was ₦20k.
Let me guess, it was stressful.
Stressful as hell. The salary was only enough for transportation and maybe some food. Many times, I got back to school after they’d locked the school gates because of traffic. I had to make friends with the security guards so I wouldn’t get in trouble.
I eventually stopped working there in October. I went for NYSC camp in November, and a content agency that had also heard me speak at the career fair reached out to hire me for the year of NYSC. I accepted the job and started working there in December, two days after my convocation.
Best in working.
LMAO! By January 2019, my monthly income became at least ₦69,800 per month. NYSC paid ₦19,800, and the job paid ₦50k. My lecturers from my old school also started recommending me to final year and master’s students to proofread their projects. This didn’t happen every month, but I charged ₦25k whenever I got a gig. Sometimes, I got three gigs in a month. Other times, people didn’t pay up. I still have like three people owing me from freelance jobs.
I also moved out of my parents’ house in 2019 because work was far from home. I lived with family. The summary of my 2019 until September was that I was broke. My monthly earnings couldn’t sustain me.
What happened in September 2019?
I finished NYSC and got a raise to ₦200k for the same role. Omo, it was amazing. I started taking Ubers to work and was able to save small amounts from time to time. Things were looking good until March 2020 when I was laid off.
Ouch. COVID?
COVID. The company was losing money, so they laid a bunch of us off. That period was extra depressing for me because I had another job offer from a bank that was going to pay ₦300k. When COVID hit, they stopped replying. I got a ₦300k severance package from my job, and my dad asked me to save it in dollars since I wasn’t doing anything with the money.
I moved back home and moped around for a bit. I had zero savings except for the dollars, no job, and nobody was hiring. By June, I decided to go online to look for freelance work.
What did you find?
Between June and August, I helped a couple of people revamp their LinkedIn pages. I made about $250 in total from all my jobs. But freelance was stressful. I had to pander to impress people and didn’t like it. I wanted an actual job, so I started researching how I could find one.
My goal was to find a content marketing job, but I didn’t even know so much about content marketing. I knew more about content strategy. All the jobs I applied for rejected me. By August, I joined online communities of content marketers through LinkedIn and Slack and took it as a job to participate in conversations very actively. What this helped me do was understand better how to present myself as a content marketer.
Another key thing I learned in this period — which I think anyone looking for remote work should learn — was how to present myself as someone looking for a job, and not as a Nigerian looking for a remote job. All those fancy Canva CVs were thrown out of the window. I focused instead on making my LinkedIn look as professional as possible.
When did you find your first remote job?
September 2020. It paid $400 a week. It was a content marketing role for the sister company of a company that didn’t hire me because they suddenly didn’t have a budget for my role. I was in a one-man team writing, creating images, doing social media, and everything else content-related. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it helped me build a strong portfolio in content marketing.
By November, a content marketing agency reached out to me via LinkedIn. They were looking for a content marketing manager. Their offer was $50k a year. That’s $4,187 a month.
I couldn’t sleep the day the offer came. I’d just gone from earning nothing to earning millions in naira. I hadn’t just secured my first million, I was going to be getting millions every month. I had to adjust my thinking to accommodate the fact that I was making that much money. When I got my first salary, I didn’t even spend from it at first. I was just looking at it in my account.
I left the other company in January 2021 because the stress of working two jobs was too much for me.
Did your parents know how much you were earning?
They’ve known all my salaries. They’d always been there, so there’s no point hiding it from them now that it had increased. Thankfully, they’re not the type of people to overburden me with requests. By 2020, my dad had gotten another nice contract that was steadying the family, and my mum had gotten a promotion and a raise too. So things were good.
Back to your plenty money.
By August, I got a promotion that increased my salary to $55k a year. That’s $4,583 monthly. It wasn’t too much of an increase, but it was something. At this point, I’d gotten used to the money, so I decided to spend it. I converted a part of my parents’ house into a mini apartment for myself. I bought everything — new furniture, a new laptop, a desktop, a new phone, fridge, freezer, everything. By the time I was done, I’d spent about ₦10m. I have zero regrets. It’s super comfortable for me.
My taste also went up. I bought only expensive things — plates, furniture, high-end clothing, etc.
By October, I got another promotion and raise. This time, to $60k a year. $5k a month. When I got that raise, I started feeling super dissatisfied. I knew I could earn so much more elsewhere. These raises were too small to keep me in one place.
Back to LinkedIn?
The next thing was to find a job at an organisation that did their content marketing in-house and not work with an agency. At agencies, you have to work with different clients who have different needs. But on an in-house marketing team, you can focus on the company and avoid the stress of talking to too many people. That same October, I started applying for in-house agency jobs.
One that I applied to got back to me, and by February 2022, I started working with them.
How much do they pay?
$93k a year.
Interesting.
I’m not used to the massive jump yet. In three months, I went from earning $5,000 a month to saving $5,000 a month. Right now, my monthly income is $7,746. $5k goes into investments and savings, and the other $2,746 is spent.
What do you spend your money on?
Let’s also look at your investment portfolio.
I’ve always gravitated towards non-traditional investments like crypto, so I have a lot of that. However, the downturn in the crypto markets made me reevaluate my investment strategy and redirect to more traditional instruments like property and mutual funds. Right now, I have $26,000 in crypto assets, $4,500 in an investment account I’ve just opened, $5,000 in my savings and emergency funds, and land worth ₦2 million. I also now use a financial management company to manage my finances better.
Where do you see yourself in the near future?
My immediate goal is to be making $10k per month in the next year. As I climb higher up the ladder, it’s going to be more difficult to make massive jumps. My dream is to make $150k a year by the time I’m 30, but I’ve realised I dream too small, and my reality always blows my expectations out of the park. So let me keep my hopes at $150k, maybe I’ll be making more than that soon.
What do you want right now but can’t afford?
Hmmm. Nothing. Wait, maybe citizenship to a different country. Maybe my own house. Maybe to move to a better, bigger rented apartment. I’ve seen one in Lagos that I like that’s ₦10m a year, but I don’t want to take it yet. I want to focus on investing and building wealth.
And your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?
8.5. It could be a 9. It can’t be a 10 because there’s always room to earn more.
The COVID-19 pandemic is one of the most defining events in recent times. It changed so much about our lives and how we navigate them. At the ‘peak’ of the pandemic, statewide lockdowns were common forcing many to stay at home and in the long run, forced people to fall back on their coping mechanisms which in many cases were things considered ‘vices’ – think eating a lot of food, drinking a lot of alcohol, having a lot of sex etc. Today, we asked five young Nigerians how the pandemic affected their relationships with their vices.
Kayode, 26.
During the pandemic, I became an alcoholic. People kept sharing recipes for homemade cocktails, fun drinks and more and I just kept making them. It didn’t hit me till much later that I had been drunk almost every day for months. The path to recovery, to going back to the social drinker I was pre-pandemic, wasn’t nearly as easy as I hoped it would be. I found myself unable to function without being drunk.
Daniella, 24.
Okay so, you know how supermarkets started becoming empty during the pandemic? It was because of people like me. I bought everything I needed, four times over. Naturally, the way to go was to cook them. I gained like ten pounds because of that. Eating became my way to cope with how crazy the world was. And the worst part? Because there was a spirit of insecurity for a while, it didn’t stop after the lockdown was lifted. It carried on for most of last year, I had to make a whole lifestyle change this year.
Harry, 29.
My coping mechanism is smoking weed. Pre-COVID I would only smoke on Saturday nights when I’m with my friends or on public holidays, but because of COVID and working from home, I started doing it every other day. Smoking weed, eating a few weed brownies during virtual meetings and all of that. The day I realized that I needed to stop was when I felt I was high for almost a week. As in I smoked once, and for like a week, I was feeling the effects. I felt like it was a warning that if I continued, I would damage myself permanently.
Stanley, 23.
I’d say the pandemic improved my relationship with my vices – weed and sex. I had previously dabbled with weed before but with the whole lockdown situation, I had nothing but time to explore. I couldn’t smoke since I was home with my family but, I would infuse weed in my food. So, I began making brownies. Then, I started to sell too. Legit spent the entire lockdown stoned. I also discovered that sex while high is on a whole different level. The whole pandemic experience made me explore and discover a whole lot of sensual pleasures. I even discovered ways of altering the potency of weed to get the desired mood. It was wild
Pearl, 28.
The pandemic ruined my appetite and love for sleep. I started working remotely so I wanted to always be available. My brain interpreted it as ‘bye bye afternoon sleep’. I drank and smoked a lot more. Then my body started reacting to alcohol so I had to cut back on it. I masturbated way more and a lot of self-realization came with that. At some point, I stopped having orgasms during masturbation. I think my body became tolerant so it needed more to get to climax. And I’m not patient enough to give the prolonged vibrations she wanted.
Pretty privilege is one of those things that is hard to measure. However, based on the amount of people who have admitted to enjoying it as well as the very obvious fact that as humans we tend to treat people we consider good-looking better than those we consider not as good-looking, it isn’t a reach to state that pretty privilege is a thing. As someone who is personally fascinated by the concept of pretty-privilege, I was excited to read the replies and experiences of people who responded to my call on Twitter with their experiences of being favored because of how they look.
Ibrahim.
It’s small things really, especially when I worked in legal practice. I usually always got picked for certain higher-profile cases, even when it wasn’t my area. Because clients liked how I looked and I fit the firm’s “brand” more. It definitely led to some resentment from my co-workers. For starters, someone “accidentally” poured water on my MacBook.n But yeah, even in court it helped. It’s amazing how far you can get by flirting with registrars.
Linda.
Okay. So when I was younger, teachers wouldn’t punish me, even when it was a general punishment. I easily get attended to when I go to the bank or any public space. They even walk up to me and I hardly stand in a queue. I easily get cash gifts from strangers for no reason (well, pretty privilege). People have paid for my stuff, shopping, flights and so on. Someone paid and upgraded my flight on the spot, a total stranger. I’ve generally made things easy for me in my everyday life and I know it wouldn’t be possible if I didn’t look like this. A lecturer one time saw my face during the examination and asked for my registration number and he immediately wrote it down on a piece of paper, turned out he gave me an A even before I finished the examination.
Vowe.
Last year when I just got to university, I was made deputy governor of my department literally on my first day because of my looks. To be honest, I’m not very qualified for the role and I barely do any work. The governor of my department, people in my department and I all know this, but I’m the deputy governor regardless. I believe the governor appointed me as his deputy simply because of how I look. This has been a reoccurring thing for me, I’ve always been given important posts in school even though I wasn’t qualified for them. I was made head girl, class prefect, assistant class prefect, chapel prefect, assembly prefect etc all because of my looks.
Chizoba.
About pretty privilege, I don’t remember a lot of it because I turn them down as they usually lead up to me being sexualized and sexually harassed so I’m usually very wary of things/offers I get because of how I look. Two scenarios come to mind, however. Once, I went for a job interview and there was a panel of four men who just kept gawking at me; they were speechless the whole twenty minutes the “interview” lasted and I was uncomfortable because one was starting to have an erection. They didn’t ask me any questions relating to the job I came for or any meaningful questions. They just took my CV and said they would contact me. They contacted me that same evening with a mouthwatering marketing job offer to resume immediately. I applied for a Human Resource and Welfare job. I did not acknowledge the offer.
Akuoma.
Some months ago, I had issues with my name not reflecting on the graduation list my school put out and I had fulfilled all my requirements, so I had to go to my faculty to complain. I was asked to re-submit my project and since I had my soft copy, I went to reprint. When I got back to the office, the Dean was just arriving and immediately she saw my face, she just lit up. When she noticed I was in distress, she invited me to her office – this is someone we all dread in my Faculty and other students were waiting to see her. She gave me water and asked what the problem was. When I explained to her, she called everybody in charge to ask about my project and why my name wasn’t on the list. She even gave me her number and email address so I could remind her and follow up. When a new graduation list came out two days later, she sent me a screenshot with the part that had my name. That’s the best thing pretty privilege has done for me.
Tina.
There was this time in 2018 or so. I wanted to get my PVC done. So I went with a friend and got there early but the queue was still massive, I was like number 140. Then this man walks past me and asks if I’ve been answered. I said no. He said okay and left. The queue was moving real slow so I made up my mind I was going to leave at midnight. Then 45 minutes later, the man came for me and took me into the office with my friend. Fifteen minutes later, we were done. He didn’t even ask for my contact. He said he just didn’t want a fine girl like me stressing.
Ada.
I’ve gotten a lot of pretty girl privileges, when I was in my 2nd year of Uni, a politician that was asking me out to be his official side chick paid my rent of 200k, random people on Snapchat, Instagram and Twitter that I’ve never met send me money just because I’m pretty, I think the highest amount I’ve ever gotten online is 150k. I barely go clubbing but the few times I’ve gone people I do not know pay for my drinks and spray me money. People randomly send me gifts just because I’m pretty. One time, I went grocery shopping and one Alhaji in Abuja paid for everything I bought on the spot which was about N58,000. I had never met him before.
David.
Pretty privilege is funny because it is the little things. You gain followers faster on social media, people are nicer – even the ones that don’t want to sleep with you. Last year, I went for an interview with this tech company and once the guy doing the interview saw me it’s like he just breathed out. The interview was very smooth, he even asked me for beard tips. I got the job. I also got a promotion in six months to head of marketing for the whole company, my salary jumped from N350,000 to N600,000. I’m good at what I do but I know that my looks made that possible.
Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
It was an inspiring moment for the world, but particularly for Nigerians, when 39 year-old Emmanuel Macron emerged winner of the French Presidential elections.
It was particularly inspiring for Nigerians because it is hard to imagine anyone less than forty ruling our country. Especially as even our constitution requires a Presidential candidate to be 40 years or above to be eligible to contest.
We will need a lot of young ladies at the Lagos youth meet to also treat the assumption by our Constitution the the President must be a HE. pic.twitter.com/i4G7jChvbo
…and also, apparently, a candidate must also be male.
But the youth in Nigeria are not sleeping, and if there’s anything we have learnt about the power of young Nigerians, it is that we can do anything we set our minds to.
Here is a list – in no particular order – of 6 Nigerians under 40 who could lead Nigeria if that nonsense forty or over law did not exist:
1. Japheth Omojuwa
This 32 year-old blogger, public speaker, socio-economic and political commentator and social media expert, was also named the most influential young Nigerian way back in 2012, among other accolades and awards. He’s always on Twitter, openly criticizing the Nigerian government and all its shortcomings. If Nigeria was a fair country, he should have the opportunity to create a party, campaign and maybe even win.
2. Seun Onigbinde
Co-founder and CEO of BudgIT Nigeria, his passion to make governance more accountable and transparent has helped foster social change. If this 31 year-old were to be allowed to campaign, how much transparent and accountable do you think his government would be?
3. Ayo Sogunro
This 32 year-old Activist, Lawyer and Writer, is also a Social Entrepreneur. You can find him on Twitter here. His political contributions have inspired many. Imagine how much more he could achieve if given the chance to campaign?
4. Chude Jideonwo
Lawyer, award-winning journalist, media entrepreneur and also co-founder and Managing Partner of Red Africa/The Future Project. This 32 year-old has created an online media dynasty in such a short time, imagine what he could do with Nigeria if the “ogas at the top” will just allow somebody to be great?
5. Aisha Yesufu
She might be over 40, but her dedication and influence in the #BringBackOurGirls campaign in addition to her no-holds-barred approach to speaking the truth has earned her a spot in this list of young Nigerians who would do a spanking job at ruling if given the opportunity. At 43 years-old, she stands for what she believes in and fights for it to the very end, a quality anyone who is thinking of bringing healing to Nigeria as its leader must certainly possess.
6. Bukky Shonibare
Founder of Girl Child Africa, Coordinator of Adopt-A-Camp set up to assist IDPs , CEO of 555 Consulting (HR | Strategy | Dev). She is also a fierce supporter of the #BringBackOurGirls campaign. Bukky Shonibare is force to reckon with, and at 35 years-old, she is one young female under 40 we know would carry Nigeria on her shoulders to see the country reach greatness; if all those bad belle people were no longer there.
The fact that the educational system in Nigeria needs a complete overhaul isn’t news.
And since it looks like it could take the Nigerian government a while to get to that point, a group of Nigerian youth have decided to make a change, one step at a time.
In the past 4 years, Slum2school Africa has reached out and provided educational scholarships and support to 650 disadvantaged children in slums and remote communities such as Okuagbo, Saga Islands and Makoko.
The award-winning NGO, founded by Orondaam Otto in 2012, has engaged over 5000 volunteers across 12 different countries who have actively participated in realising the vision of the organisation.
2016 seems to be an unstoppable year for Slum2school Africa. In February, the first Early Childhood Development Centre was launched in Makoko to celebrate the 4th anniversary of the organisation.
The center was furnished with adequate educational materials and 4 learning spaces to conveniently service 600-1000 children weekly.
And in June, they commissioned the first fully-equipped children health care center in Makoko.
The health center was designed to serve about 2,000 children and will at least reduce the spread of diseases among the school children. The center will also provide first aid services to children in the community.
Thanks to these guys, there will be fewer Nigerian children out of school. Even with these accomplishments, the government needs to play its part and provide necessary amenities to children living in remote parts of the country.