What’s the oldest memory of money you remember?
My first job comes to mind. While waiting for my WAEC results after secondary school, I took a job at a video club and the pay was ₦‎2500/month. This was in the early 2000s. This was significant because my mum told me to buy my dad a gift from my first salary. I bought him a pair of singlets.

What did your parents do for a living?
My dad was a bursar in a school. My mum worked with some shipping companies as a transporter – she was a middleman between the shipping companies and the owners of containers coming into the country. When the containers landed and got cleared, she liaised with truck companies and make sure the containers got to their final destinations. That’s how she earned her commission.

Although my mum earned more than my dad, they shared the financial responsibilities of the family. My dad bought foodstuff in bulk and my mum took care of everyday groceries. Whenever my dad couldn’t pay our school fees, my mum did. Their partnership worked.

Also, My dad had been married and divorced before he got with my mum. I’m the first of my mum’s four kids and the fifth of my dad’s eight kids. At some point, my half-siblings started living with us. My mum’s nephew also lived with us. We were a pretty big family.

What came after your first job?
School. At 16, I was admitted into a college for a National Diploma in Marine Engineering.

What does a marine engineer in Nigeria do?

The job is to work on marine vessels and design, develop and maintain the electrical and mechanical systems that power them.

​​

Did you do that?
I did when I started working. But I tried other things in school first. I had a fridge, so I started selling sachets of pure water. I’d buy 10 bags for ₦‎500 and get one extra bag. One sachet sold for ₦‎5, and I typically made ₦‎600 in profit for every batch of 11 bags. I did this until I finished my ND programme in 2005.

HND next?
No. Industrial Training (I.T.). In April 2005, I got placement at a new oil company. The company was starting to import petroleum products and had just bought two vessels. I worked there as an administrative staff for a few months. The plan was to finish off my I.T. and go for my HND programme. That never happened.

Why?
A vacancy opened up in a federal ministry. I applied and got the job. In October 2005, I ditched the oil company and started working for the government.

I joined the civil service because of the Job security and other monetary benefits like pension and end-of-year allowances. I was placed on Grade Level 4, and my starting salary was ₦16,500.

Another great thing about the ministry where I worked was the all-expense paid training programmes out of Nigeria. About two months into the job, I was sent to South Africa for six months, and my salary was paid while I was away.

When I returned to Nigeria in 2006, I was balling. Thankfully, my mum had some sense and foresight and helped me put the money to good use.

How?
My parents bought some big pieces of land from the government and my mum thought it’d be great to buy a piece in my name. When I returned to Nigeria, she mentioned it and advised me to pay for it. It cost me about ₦120k.

You bought your first property at 19. Energy!
Now I was curious about tangible things I could do with money. The first step was to start saving a portion of my salary.

In 2006, I was working on tug boats as a trainee marine engineer. As a result of the federal government’s privatisation policy, the tug boat was being managed by a private company. We negotiated with the company to pay us a stipend, and they agreed to ₦16k/month. My government salary was also there, so my monthly earnings were ₦32,500. ₦10k went into my savings account every month.

By 2009, I had been promoted to Grade Level 8 and had returned to working with the government full-time, earning ₦100k.

From ₦16k?
Between 2006 and 2009, the federal government started the monetization policy and some benefits were added to my monthly salary. When this happened, I started saving ₦20k a month.

2009 was also the year I tried to buy my first house.

Oh? Tell me about that.
The state government put up some properties they were developing in an estate for sale. I applied to buy a 2-bedroom apartment, which was ₦5.5m. The plan was to pay the required down payment of 10% and spread the rest over a few years. It was like a mortgage plan.

After paying the down payment, I started saving ₦30k for the apartment, in addition to saving the routine ₦20k/month. It was easy to do this since I was still living with my parents.

In 2010, my dad retired and things changed a little – I stepped up at home and my mum convinced me to put my dad on a monthly allowance, so I started giving him ₦10k. I was also spending about ₦15k every month to buy food for the house. These were my major expenses until I got married.

When was that?
October 2010. My salary was almost twice what my husband made from his bank teller job. As a result, it quickly dawned on me that I’d pick up most of the bills. We rented a 2-bedroom apartment for ₦300k, paying for it with my leave allowance and end-of-year bonus and some money gifts from our families.

We moved into our apartment in January 2011.

How did getting married impact your finances?
My biggest worry was rent. The moment we moved in, I started putting ₦20k for rent. The plan was to augment whatever remained to make rent with my leave allowance and end-of-year bonus as those typically came in at the end of the year.

But the only thing on my mind was to finish paying off the mortgage, so my husband and I could move into our apartment.

Right. How was that going?
Between 2009 and 2011, I paid the government ₦1,650,000 for the apartment. But for some reason, they suddenly stopped receiving money. Ultimately, they revealed that the board in charge misappropriated funds meant for the project, and the houses never got completed. That’s how my money went.

When the government scams you, who do you report to?

Man, I’m sorry. That sucks.
2011 was a tough year. My mum also passed that year. But I also gave birth to my first child, so it wasn’t all bad.

On the work front, they introduced promotion exams, which were scheduled every three years. I was due to write one in 2011 – I did and passed and moved to Grade Level nine, increasing my salary to about ₦250k.

The timing was perfect because two of my younger siblings were still in school, and I had to take up their school fees after my mum passed. I had also enrolled in a part-time programme at the state university and was paying my tuition fees. In addition, I was still in charge of raising rent money rent for my family and saving for emergencies.

Did it ever feel like you were punching above your weight?
Sometimes, but it wasn’t bad. The next thing that happened at work was the unbearable part.

What?
In 2013, they transferred me to the south-south. I was pregnant with my second child when this happened, but they allowed me to stay home and go on maternity leave before I resumed at the new post.

However, I was nursing my baby when I returned to work, so I had to travel with him. I’d come home at least once a month to check in on the rest of the family. This meant that I had new expenses – the cost of transportation for myself and a support person I travelled with, typically any relative available to go with me. When my baby turned 18 months, I stopped taking him to work. Subsequently, my children stayed with their foster parents – my husband’s cousin and his wife – while I was away.

How did it go at your new station?
The staff there had a thrift contribution and cooperative society. Basically, you save a portion of your salary with them, which makes you qualified to get loans if you need to. The interest on the loans was great and the repayment plans were flexible. So I joined because I figured it was a useful option to have. From that moment on, my monthly contributions were deducted directly from my salary before it even got to me.

Two years later, I spent a year in the UK for another government-sponsored training. While I was there, my salary for the whole year was largely untouched. I also got £6k in stipends and $5k in some other allowances. My expenses that year were monthly stipends for my dad and my children’s foster mum. My husband took care of the remaining bills.

When I returned to Nigeria in 2016, I had enough money to take up my next real estate project.

What was that?
Completing my mum’s building project, and it cost me a little over ₦1m.

In the same year, my family moved to a 3-bedroom apartment, which cost ₦850k/year.

That’s a huge jump from ₦300k/year.
Yes. I still had enough money to cover the first-year rent. Besides, it improved the quality of our lives – it was closer to town and where my husband worked.

Speaking of, my husband started a photography business in 2012 to complement what he made from his bank job. He quit in 2016 and went full-time into the business. Thankfully, it picked up. So he was paying the kids’ school fees at this point. But rent was still primarily on me.

Got it. Did you get another promotion at work?
Yes, I did. I wrote the next promotion exams in 2016 and was promoted to Grade Level 10 with a gross salary of ₦513k. After deductions, which included the thrift savings, pension and tax payments, I was left with ₦153k. That was what I was planning my life around.

In 2018, I got totally sick and tired of paying rent. The next best thing was to take up another real estate project – build or buy a house. I decided on the latter.

That had to cost money. What was the plan?
I had to find an estate in development first. I found one that was being developed by the state government. Although I still had some PTSD from what happened in 2011, I went ahead and made enquiries. The cost of 2-bedroom and 3-bedroom houses in development were ₦15m and ₦18m respectively.

Also, it needed to be a one-off payment. I didn’t have the money but I filled out the allocation form and requested a 3-bedroom house, even though I had no plan or money to pay for it.

READ FULL STORY HERE: https://www.zikoko.com/money/nairalife-civil-servants-in-nigeria/

What’s your earliest memory of money?
I lived with my aunt and her husband from when I was three to ten years old. I didn’t think about money during those years, but on some level, I thought we had it. My aunt’s husband regularly changed cars, but I later realised it was because he was a driver for transport companies and private individuals. I went to a private school, but I was sent out of school a couple of times because I owed school fees.

The reality was we lived in a face-me-I-face-you apartment and shared our bathroom and kitchen with a few people in the compound. But credit to my aunt and her husband because they protected me from having to worry about money. I wasn’t aware of it until I was in secondary school — which was a catholic-run school.

What changed?
I had a second cousin in SS 3, who took me under her care. She handled my pocket money (₦‎1k) and provisions. During my first mid-term break, she returned what remained of my pocket money to me, and it was ₦‎950. She’d been taking care of me with her own money.

I had to start taking care of myself after she graduated the next year. This was when I really became aware of money and economic classes.

How?
I struggled during the first term of JSS 2. I finished my ₦1k pocket money within the first week. I’m not sure how I survived until the mid-term break. When school resumed for the second term, I latched myself to a teacher, which was easy to do because I was intelligent. This teacher became my guardian and kept my pocket money for me until I needed it.

By the time I got to senior secondary school, I stopped needing a guardian. I moved on to the next best way to maximise my resources.

What was that?
My best friend and I started living on the food supplies we brought. It was a smart way to stretch our supplies, but it showed me the financial gap between my friend and me. She always had more money and contributed more food supplies. I also started noticing how other students lived. Most of them brought a lot more provisions from home than I did and were driven to school in their parent’s cars. I couldn’t compete.

Fast forward to 2013, I graduated from secondary school and got into university. My first year was another reminder of how little we had.

Tell me more
My parents struggled to pay my acceptance fee, which was ₦75k. When they finally sorted this and my school fees, there was nothing left to pay for my rent. The plan was to rent a room with someone and split the cost. So I was supposed to pay ₦55k out of ₦110k, but we couldn’t raise the money. Thankfully, my roommate allowed me to move in until I could raise my quota of the rent.

My allowance wasn’t set in stone. I got what I got whenever it came. I trekked a lot in my first year. I was dating my course rep, so he covered for me a lot of times, especially when I couldn’t buy textbooks and materials. Sometimes, he bought me lunch or gave me transport money. He was a huge help.

In my second year, I couldn’t cope with how broke I was, so I got a job at a restaurant.

How much did it pay?
₦15k, but I only got the full amount once. In my second month, the restaurant changed the pay structure and reduced the base pay to ₦5k. The rest was commission-based. I was there for three months and struggled to combine it with school. Luckily, someone gave me a lifeline.

What do you mean?
One of the customers took an interest in me. During one of his visits to the restaurant, he asked why I was working there, and I told him it was to support myself through school. He was empathetic and offered me a flexible job: I’d clean and take care of his house whenever he was out of town and do grocery runs when he was around. I accepted the offer without agreeing on an official salary, but I got ₦20k – 30k from him per month. Also, if any school expense came up, he took care of it. This man paid my final year school fees and bought me a laptop for my final year project. According to him, he was taking a chance on me, and the only way I could repay him was to ensure I didn’t fail out of school.

That must’ve been a relief
It was. He also bought me my first sewing machine when I decided to take up tailoring. My mum and aunt sewed, and I learnt the craft from them but never took it seriously. In my final year, I registered for a six-month course. By the end, I was almost done with uni and had only my project to sort out, so I launched my fashion design business. I made about ₦100k – 120k after the first two to three months.

What year was this?
2018. After graduation, I was posted to the north-central for NYSC. I had a cousin there; the plan was to live with them for the year. I thought it’d allow me to save as much money as I could, and I’d get a job that’d pay me at least ₦100k per month. None of that happened.

What happened?
My service year was my first full taste of adulting. On the day I left the orientation camp, my cousin stopped picking up my calls and didn’t show up. I followed a friend from the camp whose boyfriend came to pick her up, but I wasn’t comfortable staying over with them, so I found a hotel. I had about ₦50k in my account and paid ₦15k for a night. My cousin called later that night, but I was too mad to pick up. I took their earlier ghosting as a sign to sort things out myself. They never called me back.

Then my Place of Primary Assignment (PPA) rejected me, claiming they didn’t need a corps member. I had no job or place to live.

What did you do?
I don’t even remember how many offices I went to the following morning, but they all rejected me. And I was burning money to get to these places.

My frustration grew, and I couldn’t hide it because one staff member called me back and asked what was wrong. I burst into tears as I narrated everything that had happened in the last 24 hours to her.

I didn’t expect what came after — she asked me to fetch my stuff from the hotel and offered to let me stay with her until I figured things out.

Did she say why she wanted to help?
She said she didn’t want her two young daughters to be in the same situation.

I had somewhere to stay. But I still needed a job. It took two weeks to find an admin role at an outdoor advertising agency. My salary was ₦20k, and the government paid ₦19,800, bringing my monthly income to ₦39,800.

In the first few months, the lady didn’t ask me for anything. However, I tried to pull my weight around the house and bought groceries when I could.

How long did you stay with her?
Three months. I left in June 2018 because I wasn’t comfortable living with her anymore. I was in a relationship, so I moved in with my partner and started looking for my own place even though I had less than ₦150k in savings.

But how did you even raise that?
₦39800 for three consecutive months, and my PPA had a culture of giving out money. It could be anything from ₦10k to ₦20k in a week. During this time, my combined income was higher than my expenses.

Gotcha
Eventually, I found an apartment for ₦150k/year. It completely wiped out my savings, and I couldn’t even move in because I couldn’t afford to furnish it.

I continued staying with my partner and living on whatever money gift I got from work, while slowly setting the place up. My partner bought a new mattress at some point, so I took the old one. I think this was when it occurred to him that I didn’t have anything in the apartment, so he bought the basic things I needed.

The timing was perfect because the relationship ended the following month.

What went wrong?
I found out that he had a fiancee. He said he’d broken it off, but I didn’t wait to find out for sure.

How did living alone impact your finances?
My biggest expense was transportation. My apartment was on the outskirts, so it cost ₦1,400 to get to work and back every day. I was spending close to ₦30k/month on transportation alone when my income was ₦39,800.

How did you make that work?
I picked up sewing clothes for people again. Another friend I made from camp had a bit of clout and directed people my way. Slowly, I started growing a client base, making an extra ₦30k per month.

By the time I settled my basic expenses and miscellaneous bills, I had nothing left. I decided to get a grip and join a savings programme at my place of work. Each person saves ₦20k/month and takes everything at the end of the year. I couldn’t afford it alone, so me and a co-worker agreed to both drop ₦10k/month.

For the savings arrangement to work, though, I had to be retained at the end of my service year.

Were you retained?
Yes, but the promotion to full-staff barely reflected in my salary. They bumped it up to ₦45k gross, ₦39k net. After saving ₦10k, I had only ₦29k to live on. By the end of 2019, I’d saved ₦120k. I received about ₦90k in bonus and ₦50k in money gifts from work.

2020?
Nothing major happened until the lockdown, which helped me cut down on daily expenses like transportation. I only had to sort out my rent. A friend had started living with me, and we’d moved to a bigger apartment, which cost ₦500k. When it was time to renew in June 2020, it took some doing to find the money. I figured it out, but it wiped my savings once again.

I decided to quit my job in March 2021.

Why?
I was done with how little the job paid. Plus, there was no room for growth. I didn’t even have a safety net. I was just exhausted. I wanted to face my fashion design business full-time. But I needed capital to do that. And everyone I told I was quitting my job to start a business had something to chip in. I raised about ₦1m from money gifts.

Omo
Between renting out a space and miscellaneous expenses, I was out of money again. I didn’t have a solid client base by this time because I hadn’t been consistent with the business. It took about three months before it picked up.

What changed?
I started attending trade fairs. I either sold the ready-to-wear clothes I made or offered custom services to people who didn’t find what they liked or their size. I’d collect their numbers and call them later to pick up the conversation. Slowly, my clients increased.

I wasn’t making enough profit to live on, so what made all the difference was the money gifts I got from friends who’d left the country and my bosses at my former workplace.

Then something else had to set me back.

What was that?
I entered a new relationship in 2020 and fell pregnant in July 2021. I was barely surviving on my own, so I went to a fertility clinic and got some abortion pills for about ₦50k. After two weeks, I still had pregnancy symptoms. When I returned to the clinic, they suggested another procedure, and I went through with it. But in August, I still felt bloated. One day, on my way to the shop, I started feeling sharp stomach pains. I had a feeling something was wrong and went back to the clinic. After a scan, the doctor referred me to another hospital.

Did they say why?
They didn’t understand what they saw, so they sent me to another lab to get a clearer image. I paid ₦24k for a transvaginal scan, and all hell broke loose. The radiologist said they couldn’t get a good view of my reproductive system because there was a lot of fluid in the area due to a rupture between my fallopian tube and ovaries. They concluded that I was carrying an ectopic pregnancy.

When I returned to the fertility clinic, they said they couldn’t handle the surgery it required and referred me to a government hospital. After waiting at the hospital for hours, I found out the doctors were on strike and didn’t have enough doctors around to carry out the procedure. This was a huge blow because doing it at the government hospital wouldn’t have cost more than ​​₦200k.

What did you do?
It was now a medical emergency, so I was referred to a private hospital. They wouldn’t let me see a doctor until I registered with the hospital and got a card, which cost ₦40k. And there was no guarantee that they’d take my case even then. I also found out that the surgery would cost about ₦1m.

Read full story here: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/nairalife-navigating-money-struggles-in-nigeria/

What is your first memory of money?
I’d say it was earning my first salary at my first job. 15k in 2011, and I’d just finished secondary school.

Why was this a significant moment?
My mum didn’t want me to get a job because she wanted me to go to school, even though it was almost impossible at the time. She was raising four kids on her ₦20k teaching salary. At numerous points, she picked up extra tutorials and even had a small shop, but what she made was barely enough to cover the family’s basic needs.

You must have noticed I haven’t mentioned my dad.

I was waiting for us to get there. Where was he in all this?
I’ve never known my dad to keep a job. He was a real estate agent, but it was never a regular stream of income. So he didn’t contribute financially, even though we all lived together.

My mum carried all the load as best as she could. We lived in a single room until we could afford a 2-bedroom apartment. I didn’t even see a TV set in our house until I was 16 or 17.

Ah, I get it. Back to the job
I knew working was the only way I could help ease my mum’s financial burden, so that ₦15k was everything. My boss liked me for some reason and made me a supervisor, so I didn’t have to operate the machinery or do any heavy lifting. However, I walked almost 40 minutes to work every day the entire time I worked there, which was about two years.

Out of curiosity, what could ₦15k do in 2011?
It wasn’t what you would call big money, but it was good for me. For context, a bag of rice was about ₦7- 8k, and I could get a pair of jeans for less than ₦4k.

This job gave me my first taste of financial freedom.

However, I quickly realised I wasn’t good at keeping money, so I did the next best thing.

What was that?
My older sister was much better with money. Somehow, she always managed to keep money aside for future use, so I asked if I could save with her. At the end of every month, I’d send ₦4k to her and forget about it. Two years later, I had about ₦92k saved. I left the factory job around this time too.

Why did you leave?
A guy I worked with at the factory had moved on to a security company. In 2013, he reached out and asked if I’d like to join him. I got the job and my pay jumped to ₦25k.

In the beginning, I worked single 24-hour shifts and took the following days off. Later, I picked up extra shifts on my days off. My salary increased to ₦45k, but I also had to go to work every day. This went on for a year and a few months.

In 2015, my former boss at the factory contacted me to tell me he could use my help. He offered me ₦30k/month and an opportunity to work night shifts to increase my earnings. I accepted the offer — the pay wasn’t as great as what I earned from my double shifts at the security company, but at least, I didn’t have to work every day of the week.

That makes sense
I should mention, I’d increased my monthly savings to ₦10k/month.

A few months after I returned to the factory job, my mum picked up the conversation about my returning to school.

See, it took a lot of strength to agree to it. I feared that returning to school would affect my earnings and cash flow. Secondly, I didn’t feel particularly book-smart. But my mum wouldn’t let it go. In 2016, I got into a part-time programme at a polytechnic. I was 21 years old.

How did that go?
The polytechnic is in another state, so I quit my factory job. One of the first things I did upon resumption was to find another job, and I started working as a security staff again. My salary was ₦25k and I only worked single shifts because of my class schedule.

Three years later, I wrote my final exams and got my diploma. =

Well done
Thanks, man. This was 2019, and I’d managed to save about ₦200k with my sister’s help. When I returned home, I started planning to launch a business. First things first, I needed more money to raise some capital. So I returned to the one thing I knew how to do and had contacts for.

Another security job?
Yes. I picked up two shifts and earned ₦55k from both. Fortunately, one was at an office that closed by 4 p.m., giving me a break for the rest of the day.

The goal was to save enough money to raise business capital, so I started keeping ₦25k with my sister every month. I was also sending ₦20k home to my parents, so I was relying on the tips — anything between ₦500 and ₦1500 — I got during my shifts to cover my basic expenses.

I finally quit in February 2022 after saving ₦500k. It took three years, but I could eventually leave the security gigs behind and start something of my own.

Whew. Did you know what business you wanted to pursue?
It took some time, but I decided to start a POS business. A close friend had been in it for a few years and promised me it was profitable for him. He was making about ₦15k per day, which I thought was fair.

The only problem was I still hadn’t learned to handle cash without spending it. But I braced myself and decided I would be disciplined with money.

How does someone set up an agent banking business?
First, you need to find a suitable spot, preferably one where people can easily find you. Then you find out who is in charge of the spot and talk to them about renting it. If it’s a piece of land, you need a kiosk or something you’ll use as a shop. Most importantly, you need to apply for a POS machine. My friend helped me apply for mine — I submitted documents, paid ₦30k, and got the device almost immediately.

The whole process cost me about ₦100k. I kept another ₦100k in the wallet and ₦200k in cash. And I was in business.

It started a little slow as I was making between ₦1500 and ₦1800 every day. But when I considered that I was making about ₦70k a month — more money than I ever made at any of my security jobs — I saw it was a good call.

My customer base increased in months, and so did my earnings. I’m not even sure when it picked up; one day, I just realised I’d started averaging ₦200k/month. This was in the second half of 2022.

What did this mean for you?
I could take better care of my people. I increased my parents’ allowance to ₦60k/month and picked up a couple more financial responsibilities within the family.
It also meant I could expand to a new location. Unfortunately, this didn’t work out as I hoped. I wasn’t making enough to cover the costs of operations, so I shut second shop down.

Finally, I figured it was time to get my own place. I found an apartment in December, and the rent is ₦170k/year.
One of my goals at the beginning of 2023 was to raise capital for a new business venture. Now, I’m not sure it’ll be possible. Not when the business is being threatened by the Central Bank of Nigeria’s cashless policy. I can read the writing on the wall. POS business will be redundant soon, and it’s giving me sleepless nights.

When did you first think there might be a threat to your business?
From the moment the CBN announced the naira redesign and new withdrawal limits. My first thought was, “It’s time to sit up and think of what is next.”
I can still manage for the next two to four years because I don’t think Nigerians will fully switch to cashless transactions before that time. But I also want to be proactive. The current cash scarcity is a sign of things to come, and I need to prepare for the worst.

Speaking of, how’s the cash scarcity affecting business?
I’m making more money now than I did in the previous months. The problem is it’s difficult to get cash to operate.
Walk me through how you source cash these days

It takes a lot of planning and strategy. I leave my house at 5:30 a.m. to beat the ATM queues. And if I’m lucky, I get to withdraw money from one of the machines. The sad part is most banks don’t allow you to withdraw more than ₦20k per day. Luckily, I have multiple bank accounts. Between them, I withdraw up to ₦100k daily.
But on days when I don’t get money from the banks, I buy money from businesses that operate with cash — mostly filling stations and wholesale stores. For every ₦100k I get, I pay them an extra ₦6k.
It’s stressful and more expensive, so the withdrawal charges have increased. Before, customers only had to pay ₦100 or ₦200 for withdrawals between ₦1k and ₦10k. Now, it’s ₦400 to withdraw ₦2k and ₦1k to withdraw ₦10k.

At the end of each day, I make between ₦13k and ₦15k. More people need cash, so the volume of daily transactions has gone up.

How do you feel about it?
I’m not happy about the increase in withdrawal charges. However, if I don’t get cash, I can’t open the shop, and I won’t make money for that day. It’s either I make the best of it or close down the business.

Isn’t there a workaround that would benefit POS agents and customers?
It’s out of our hands. The banks need to give people access to their money again. The withdrawal limit at the ATMs is currently ₦20k/day, which doesn’t work. When the banks start paying people money over the counter, and the ATM withdrawal limits go back up, everything will return to normal. I expect this will happen before the end of February or when the elections are over.
So how are you planning for when this business isn’t profitable for you anymore?

The plan is to save up for a 2006 or 2007 Toyota Corolla and sign up to be a driver on Uber. Sadly, this will cost me nothing less than ₦2.5m. This same car was about ₦1m two or three years ago.

The second option is to become an agent for online betting companies. Nigerians gamble a bit, and I like businesses that give me cash flow. I believe I can make this happen by 2024, and I shouldn’t need more than ₦1m to be in business.

I currently save ₦150k/month and have ₦600k in my savings. If nothing changes, I should raise the capital I need by the end of the year. I wish I could save a minimum of ₦200k every month, but that’s not been possible.

Why not?
Family obligations. My sister is in fashion school. I pay my parents’ rent and send them a monthly allowance. Also, my dad was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer, and his drugs cost ₦20k/month in addition to other hospital bills.

I’m really sorry about your dad
It’s all right. I love that I can take care of these expenses even if it means I can’t save as much as I’d like. My thinking is, I’ll still do everything I want to do; it might just take me a longer to get there. I don’t think it matters how long it takes.
That’s a good way to think about it. How much do you make in an average month now?

₦200k – 250k from my POS shop. I make an extra ₦100k from trading gift cards on the side.

Have you considered other financial management options besides saving?
I feel like I’m a little late to the party. Everything I know about financial management is from accounts I follow on Twitter. In fact, I only stopped saving money with my sister when I found out in 2022 that there were apps that could do this.

However, my constant need for cash hasn’t allowed me to explore financial investments. At the moment, I can’t leave money compounding for years because of my short-term plans.

Where do you imagine you’ll be in five years?

I’d have started another business. The only reason why I want to try out transportation or online betting is to raise money for my long-term project.

I want to open a pharmacy and supermarket within the next five years. I won’t run the daily operations of the pharmacy because I don’t have a license, but I’ll put the money down and be in the background. I’ll need about ₦6 – 7m, so it’s my long-term saving goal.

I think I’ve done well considering where I’m coming from, which is why I believe I can pull it off. Money gives freedom. As I earned more money over the years, I’ve been able to do things I didn’t think I could.

How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 0-10?
I haven’t totally figured out a primary means of income beyond the POS business. If I had assurances it would still be as profitable as it is now in the next five years, the number would probably be 8.

But there are no assurances. It’s okay, though. I saved my way here, and I don’t intend to stop now.

: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/cash-scarcity-in-nigeria/

Tell me about your earliest memory of money
When my family moved from Lagos to Jos in 2008, I think. My mum sold books, food, and did stuff like printing and photocopying. My brother and I helped with food delivery . Not far delivery o. I was only 9. It was just stuff like, “Take this to Mr X’s shop across the street.”

Do you remember why you moved to Jos?
My mum wanted to be on her own. My dad had left by the time I was born, so she lived in her family house with her two children. Moving to Jos was one of those independent moves for her.

How cold was Jos?
Cold. Very cold. Also peaceful, until the riots started in 2010.

Ah.
We started hearing gunshots and explosions from the estate where we lived. We had to move.

Where did your mum go?
Lagos. We stayed there for a few months, then moved to Ilorin.

Tell me about Ilorin
It wasn’t as cold as Jos, but it was calm and peaceful. But I always thought things around me weren’t developing. Whenever I went to Lagos for holidays with my mum’s family and came back. It was like I was returning to a rural place that had stayed the same for years.

Was there money at home?
We were surviving. Sometimes, it was good. Other times, it wasn’t. An uncle handled our school fees, and mumsi handled day-to-day stuff like feeding and transportation. We got ₦50 or so to take to school every day. We had to decide whether to use the money for food or transportation. If we chose food, we’d have to walk for hours.

To make extra money, my brother and I sold mangoes and lemons from the trees in our compound. For the lemon tree, a mallam that usually came and filled a huge sack gave us ₦900. Now that I think about it, he was cashing out on our heads. I majorly used the money to buy airtime to boost my 2go rankings.

Did you ever reach master?
Nah. Professional.

What was uni like?
Chaotic. I can’t say I fully experienced it because I was drunk about 80% of the time, especially from my third year. I was just vibing through life. I made the most money in my life, so far, in uni though.

Tell me about it
I first waited at home for a year because federal universities weren’t taking 15-year-olds. That year, friends online introduced me to digital marketing, so I worked with people who were creating and promoting content. I was learning, but I got some money too.

The next year, I got into university to study mass communication.

It started with me seeing a popular event producer on my university campus in 2015 and walking up to him. I introduced myself and told him I did social media and content creation, in case he had any gigs for me. Thankfully, he was setting up a gaming centre on campus and needed someone to help promote it to students and get people to show up. I took the job.

How much did it pay?
₦30k monthly, and it came with a phone. I think the salary increased at some point. He also sent me social media management and content creation gigs here and there.

On the side, my personal social media pages were growing into hundreds of thousands of followers because I was creating viral funny and creative content. Basically, I’d become an influencer. So brands were reaching out to me to promote them.

By the end of the first semester of my second year, I quit the on-campus job because I wanted to focus on my personal brand.

How much were you making from these brand deals?
I wasn’t tracking, but I was doing at least ₦100k per month.

Where was all this money going?
Flexing, drinking, feeding. Zero savings. I occasionally sent money home, but in retrospect, I should have sent way more. I even bought a car for ₦850k in my third year.

Ballest

I also started two businesses. One was t-shirt retailing. I bought shirts and resold them. The other was personalised merch. I threw funny captions on stuff and sold them. I didn’t have any problems selling them because I had an audience. But I also wasn’t so serious.

Why?
Whenever I sold a batch and made plenty money, I stopped until I needed money again. And when I was leaving uni in late 2019, I stopped the businesses altogether. I had a different plan for my life.

What was that?
Acting. I got a small role in a stage play in November 2019 that paid ₦200k, and thought, “This is good. I want to enter this industry.” So I began to plan my own stage play. I wrote a script with a few friends. By February 2020, I had 40 people show up for my stage play. It was great. After paying everyone that worked on it, I made about ₦50k. Then lockdown happened, so no more stage plays.

2020 was a big year for me because Jesus found me. I grew up in a Christian home but didn’t really take my spirituality seriously until I woke up on the day after my stage play and had a sudden distaste for living in sin, then began to seek God. I also started a Bible Study group online, started creating Christian content, and these activities challenged me to study and pray more.

Sweet
Before the lockdown, my brother and I partnered to create a website that delivered food. Just think of something like Jumia Food. He built the website, I did the promotion.

How did that make you money?
We made ₦100 on each food pack sold through the app. We split it 50-50. We only did it for three months, but we made about ₦1.3m in revenue.

My uncle gave me ₦300k when NYSC posted me. His plan was for me to leave the northern state after camp and redeploy somewhere, maybe Jos, even if I didn’t want to return to Lagos. He was willing to pay my rent too and fly me abroad to start my life after NYSC. But on the last day of camp, I was just sure God wanted me to stay, so I sent him a long text and he replied “Okay”.

We’ve hardly spoken since then.

Read full story here: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/career-directed-by-god/

Tell me about your earliest memory of money
My two siblings and I needed money to buy a cake for our mum’s birthday. Our dad had travelled, so we couldn’t ask him for money. We tried to find out how much big cakes cost, and knew we couldn’t afford it even if we saved our daily ₦100 pocket money for months, so we got creative.

We bought one small cupcake each for ₦100, and before she got home from work, decorated them with everything we could find in the fridge — chocolate syrup, candy, everything.

Aww. How did she react?
She didn’t eat the cakes, but she was grateful. When we talk about it now, she mentions how emotional she was because it was a financially difficult time for the family.

How?
Me o, I can’t remember any difficulty, but apparently, we were managing.

We grew up eating a lot of dried catfish and thought she gave us because we liked it. Nope. It’s because it was the cheapest fish she could find. Even the ₦100 she gave us to school was just because she didn’t want us to feel left out when other children were buying stuff — even though we got food packed. The fancy soups I thought she made were attempts at throwing whatever she could find into a pot and giving us what came out. Even the pizza we ate was homemade because we couldn’t afford to buy. But again, I can’t remember life being difficult one bit. I enjoyed my childhood. My mum is always thanking God we don’t remember.

What did your parents do?
My dad did cocoa importing and exporting, and my mum was a lawyer — and I wanted to be just like her. Apart from being a mummy’s girl, a few incidents also made me develop a strong sense of justice.

Do you remember them?
We had a driver that just stopped showing up. My parents thought he’d quit until weeks after we stopped seeing him, his wife called us crying that she also hadn’t seen him. My parents somehow found him at a police station, detained for nothing. My mum helped get him out. Another time, a police officer stopped my mum’s colleague’s son and after pocketing his driver’s license, claimed he was driving without a license. He was also detained, and had to beg someone that came into the station to help call his mother. Again, my mum helped him out.

So you studied law
Nope. Economics and Business Administration. I went to the US for school, and you can’t study law as your first degree. I was really good at math and loved economics in secondary school, so I thought this was a good first degree.

Things had gotten better for your family financially
Yes, but my parents still couldn’t afford to pay full tuition for three children. We got scholarships and they made us promise to keep the good grades so the scholarships would continue. We all did. I even graduated summa cum laude.

I also didn’t collect pocket money from my parents. I found jobs on campus that paid me $400 a week, so I could afford to fuel my car, feed myself and pay my speeding tickets, but no more. For example, I couldn’t afford the school’s annual ball because I couldn’t afford a dress.

Wait…Speeding tickets?
I got them all the time. I don’t know where I was always rushing to.

Vin Diesel, please
LMAO.

What happened after?
I graduated from university in 2015 and then went to law school between then and 2018.

I worked at law school too and even though I made less money than when I was in university, my parents still didn’t have to bother about giving me money for sustenance. After law school, I got a corporate law job at a firm.

Not criminal law?
I’d found out I could tie law and economics with things like antitrust law, tax law and project financing law, and I didn’t want to give up my love for numbers. So I went that route.

How did that go?
Great! My job paid $180k for the year I was there. I lived with a family member and didn’t have to pay rent or utilities, and I’ve never been a big spender, so by the time I was leaving, I had about $100k in savings. I did have to pay about $2k in speeding tickets that year though.

LMAO. Why were you there for only a year?
I didn’t have a work authorisation to stay in the US for more than a year after graduation. I was already thinking of planning a fake wedding with a friend for a green card, but God told me not to do it. So I returned to Nigeria in 2019 and went for NYSC.

What did that feel like?
I knew my family was comfortable, so I wouldn’t suffer. But I also knew I’d have to start all over. I even did law school again after NYSC.

But at least, you had $100k
$100k that I didn’t touch. Even until now, I’ve barely touched it. I’ve just kept it as emergency funds. I started NYSC as a regular corp member, collecting allawee and pocket money from my parents. Then my PPA, a federal law parastatal, paid me ₦92k per month.

What could ₦92k get you?
Data, fuel, and some food. From the first month, I knew it wasn’t going to be enough if I wanted to do any other thing like go out and buy stuff. So my mum gave me ₦300k “pocket money” the next month. After that month, I started touching my savings small small. I realised I didn’t want to do that, so I started doing side gigs.

What kind?
I reached out to people I’d schooled and worked with in the US and asked for quick jobs like writing business plans, growth strategy, market and product expansion plans, contract writing and reviewing, and negotiations. I was getting an average of $2,200 on months when I got jobs. Some months could go up to $5,300.

Fundsss
I had to stop when it was time for law school in January 2022 because law school students in Nigeria aren’t allowed to work. Thankfully, I’ve never been a big spender, so I had savings to fall back on. And when I finished law school in September, I started again.

I’m curious about how much you have in savings
I have three savings buckets. The $90-something-k savings is for life-or-death situations for me or my family members. It’s absolutely untouchable except for health or maybe life-threatening situations. I try not to remember I have it.

From my side gigs from the past few years, I have two savings buckets. One has €40k in it. It’s for my future studies. I want to get an MBA. The other has about $25k in it. It’s my regular savings account. Apart from my entire year of NYSC allawee that I still haven’t touched, I don’t have any naira savings.

Read full story here: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/still-saving-at-150k/

Tell me about your earliest memory of money
When my family moved from Lagos to Jos in 2008, I think. My mum sold books, food, and did stuff like printing and photocopying. My brother and I helped with food delivery . Not far delivery o. I was only 9. It was just stuff like, “Take this to Mr X’s shop across the street.”

Do you remember why you moved to Jos?
My mum wanted to be on her own. My dad had left by the time I was born, so she lived in her family house with her two children. Moving to Jos was one of those independent moves for her.

How cold was Jos?
Cold. Very cold. Also peaceful, until the riots started in 2010.

Ah.
We started hearing gunshots and explosions from the estate where we lived. We had to move.

Where did your mum go?
Lagos. We stayed there for a few months, then moved to Ilorin.

Tell me about Ilorin
It wasn’t as cold as Jos, but it was calm and peaceful. But I always thought things around me weren’t developing. Whenever I went to Lagos for holidays with my mum’s family and came back. It was like I was returning to a rural place that had stayed the same for years.

Was there money at home?
We were surviving. Sometimes, it was good. Other times, it wasn’t. An uncle handled our school fees, and mumsi handled day-to-day stuff like feeding and transportation. We got ₦50 or so to take to school every day. We had to decide whether to use the money for food or transportation. If we chose food, we’d have to walk for hours.

To make extra money, my brother and I sold mangoes and lemons from the trees in our compound. For the lemon tree, a mallam that usually came and filled a huge sack gave us ₦900. Now that I think about it, he was cashing out on our heads. I majorly used the money to buy airtime to boost my 2go rankings.

Did you ever reach master?
Nah. Professional.

What was uni like?
Chaotic. I can’t say I fully experienced it because I was drunk about 80% of the time, especially from my third year. I was just vibing through life. I made the most money in my life, so far, in uni though.

Tell me about it
I first waited at home for a year because federal universities weren’t taking 15-year-olds. That year, friends online introduced me to digital marketing, so I worked with people who were creating and promoting content. I was learning, but I got some money too.

The next year, I got into university to study mass communication.

It started with me seeing a popular event producer on my university campus in 2015 and walking up to him. I introduced myself and told him I did social media and content creation, in case he had any gigs for me. Thankfully, he was setting up a gaming centre on campus and needed someone to help promote it to students and get people to show up. I took the job.

How much did it pay?
₦30k monthly, and it came with a phone. I think the salary increased at some point. He also sent me social media management and content creation gigs here and there.

On the side, my personal social media pages were growing into hundreds of thousands of followers because I was creating viral funny and creative content. Basically, I’d become an influencer. So brands were reaching out to me to promote them.

By the end of the first semester of my second year, I quit the on-campus job because I wanted to focus on my personal brand.

How much were you making from these brand deals?
I wasn’t tracking, but I was doing at least ₦100k per month.

Where was all this money going?
Flexing, drinking, feeding. Zero savings. I occasionally sent money home, but in retrospect, I should have sent way more. I even bought a car for ₦850k in my third year.

Ballest

First story drops tomorrow (January 31st, 2023)
I also started two businesses. One was t-shirt retailing. I bought shirts and resold them. The other was personalised merch. I threw funny captions on stuff and sold them. I didn’t have any problems selling them because I had an audience. But I also wasn’t so serious.

Why?
Whenever I sold a batch and made plenty money, I stopped until I needed money again. And when I was leaving uni in late 2019, I stopped the businesses altogether. I had a different plan for my life.

What was that?
Acting. I got a small role in a stage play in November 2019 that paid ₦200k, and thought, “This is good. I want to enter this industry.” So I began to plan my own stage play. I wrote a script with a few friends. By February 2020, I had 40 people show up for my stage play. It was great. After paying everyone that worked on it, I made about ₦50k. Then lockdown happened, so no more stage plays.

2020 was a big year for me because Jesus found me. I grew up in a Christian home but didn’t really take my spirituality seriously until I woke up on the day after my stage play and had a sudden distaste for living in sin, then began to seek God. I also started a Bible Study group online, started creating Christian content, and these activities challenged me to study and pray more.

Sweet
Before the lockdown, my brother and I partnered to create a website that delivered food. Just think of something like Jumia Food. He built the website, I did the promotion.

How did that make you money?
We made ₦100 on each food pack sold through the app. We split it 50-50. We only did it for three months, but we made about ₦1.3m in revenue.

My uncle gave me ₦300k when NYSC posted me. His plan was for me to leave the northern state after camp and redeploy somewhere, maybe Jos, even if I didn’t want to return to Lagos. He was willing to pay my rent too and fly me abroad to start my life after NYSC. But on the last day of camp, I was just sure God wanted me to stay, so I sent him a long text and he replied “Okay”.

We’ve hardly spoken since then.

What was your year in the north like?
Wonderful. I was completely away from friends, social media, noise, and everything. I read a lot of self-help books, and grew spiritually, emotionally and all round, mentally. It was like I took a year off to understand God’s will for my life.

Sounds great. How were you surviving?
Before I moved to the north, I sold my car for ₦350k and added ₦150k from what my uncle gave me to put in a forex trading company. I got ₦65k monthly for like two months, and then the thing crashed, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

I survived mainly on NYSC’s ₦33k and my PPA’s ₦12k until September, when I got a remote digital strategist gig that paid ₦50k monthly.

Did you stay in the north after NYSC?
I wanted to. But God said I should return to Lagos to make music. That’s what he wants me to do.

Gospel music?
Nah. Great secular music that’s not about fraud, sex and drugs.

What was your plan to execute this?
To return to Lagos, make music and use my social media influence to blow in like two weeks. I didn’t realise I needed to put in work, learn, grow and go through a process.

How did it go?
I wrote, recorded and released a few songs, realised I was broke, got a ₦120k/month content job in April, used the money to buy some equipment, and made some more music.

I also brought back the retail clothing business. I’m not making as much sales as I used to when I was in university, but I’m still putting things in place.

Have you made money from music in the past year?
Maybe like $5 from Spotify.

Let’s go and paint the town red
LOL! But I did get ₦5m from a family member for my music.

Read full story: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/career-directed-by-god/

Let’s start with your earliest memory of money
I was in nursery three when I first got sent out of school for owing fees. I was five and I remember seeing my dad cry and promise nothing like that would ever happen to his children again.

You have memories from when you were five?
I even remember correcting people’s grammar at that age. I was one of those gifted children who developed fast and excelled in school. I had a double promotion between nursery one and three, and after primary four, I went straight to JSS 1.

Okay o, efiko. Was nursery three the last time you were sent out of school?
Yeah. My dad got an okada and rider to take me to school in the mornings and pick me in the afternoons. The rider used the rest of the day to make money, so I was able to stay in school.

What did your parents do for a living?
They were both civil servants. My mum worked in the ministry of education, so she started as a teacher and moved up the ladder until she retired as a vice principal. My dad worked in the finance sector.

My mum was the major breadwinner. She sold pure water and drinks on the side, and I used to help her sell after school. It was through her job we had housing because the government gave her a place to stay whenever they transferred her to a new school.

I’m curious about what it’s like moving from primary four to JSS 1
I was taken to a boarding school in a different part of the state, but I spent a major part of the first year at home because every time I returned to school, I’d get really homesick again, and my parents would have to pick me up. This was the year 2001, so I was only nine years old. After the session, I came out top of the class of almost a thousand students. My dad told them to check again because I was hardly in school and I’d missed tests and exams. When they confirmed I was top of the class, he just took me away. I remember him saying he didn’t want me to be a “big fish in a small pond”.

He took me to a new school to start JSS 1 again. It was a boarding house, still far from home because it was in a different state, but I wasn’t as homesick anymore. Here, there were no positions. Everyone just got their grades. I stayed there from JSS 1 to 3 before he brought me back home to attend a more expensive day school because I was “becoming lean”. I knew he just missed me.

By JSS 3, things were getting good for my dad at his workplace. In fact, after JSS 3, I returned home to our first rented apartment. It’s not like we didn’t still have my mum’s government-issued housing o. My dad just thought since he was getting promotions and now had money, he wanted to live in his own house. We stayed there for three years before we moved to his own government-issued house.

Where did you grow up?
Rivers state. We moved around a lot, but I spent a lot of time in Port Harcourt.

What was that like?
It was chill. It didn’t have the Lagos chaos. But the downside was I wasn’t exposed. I didn’t have much to look up to. My goal in life would have been to be a civil servant like my parents, or maybe work in oil since that’s a big deal in Rivers.

How did this affect your choice of what to study in university?
It didn’t really. I wanted to study economics because I was good at it in secondary school, but my older sister advised against it because there were “too many economists in Nigeria”. She directed me to computer science, and that’s what I studied. I went to a private university.

Fundsss
It was my dad’s idea. I’d gone to public school all my life. He wanted me to experience something better since he could afford it. My fees were over ₦1.5m a semester. I wouldn’t say he could pay it without struggling, but he could definitely afford it.

How were your own finances?
I lived on the ₦40k I got from my dad every semester. If I needed more, I could always ask him, but I barely needed more. School provided all our meals, so the money was to buy anything extra.

Did uni give you clarity on what you wanted to do with your life?
Yep. In my third year in 2010, I applied for an internship at a Big Four consulting firm and got it. But because it was in Lagos, and I didn’t have family to stay with, my dad didn’t let me take it. I eventually did my internship in Rivers State.


When I resumed, I asked one of my lecturers what I could do to make money. He suggested ethical hacking, but it seemed complex. Then he suggested coding, but that also seemed stressful. Finally, he suggested IT auditing and said it was a field many people didn’t go into but paid well. I could get trained by a consulting firm, and I’d make money. So I decided I would get another opportunity to work at a Big Four.

Did you?
After graduating in 2012 and finishing NYSC in 2013, I applied for the graduate training program of another Big Four. This time, my mum sponsored me to fly to Lagos twice for the different test stages. I did’t have money to go for the final interview, so I let it go. After that, I got a job in Port Harcourt as an IT admin officer, earning ₦100k. I stayed there for about 15 months before I got another opportunity to work at the same Big Four.

This time, I had my own money because I’d been saving most of my salary. When I did my first two trips to take tests, my dad didn’t have an issue. But when he heard I was going for the final interview stage, he refused to let me go. To him, it meant I’d move out completely, and he just didn’t want it.

So you lost the job again?
I actually went for the interview. On my way to the airport, my dad’s lawyer called and told me my dad had removed me from his will because I defied him.

Read full story here: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/big-four-naira-life/

What’s the earliest memory of money you have?
I used to collect ₦50 for breakfast and ₦20 for snacks every day in primary school. I grew up in the east, so I’d normally buy okpa. If it wasn’t okpa, it was bread and then maybe a beverage or pap at home. But most times, I kept the money and spent it on biscuits during break time.

You got money for breakfast and snacks? Wealth. Why didn’t you have breakfast at home?
Haha… who wants to cook it? I’m the last of six children, and three of my older siblings were in secondary school. My mum was a teacher, so she left the house early. It just made sense for them to give us money.

And your dad?
He was a businessman, so he wasn’t always around. He sold oil and gas.

Is that… wealth?
No o. Not that type of oil and gas. He bought cooking gas and retailed to people in the community, and he imported olive oil to sell to churches for anointing.

You almost had us there. But things were good at home?
I have limited memory of when things were good, but I guess I can say they were at some point compared to when they became terrible.

Let’s get into that
The first thing I noticed was that we weren’t eating as many meals as we normally would at home. We still got the money in the mornings, but provisions in the house disappeared and we occasionally skipped meals. But when it became bad was in Primary 4. The school started calling my brother and me out for not paying fees.

School was less than a minute from my house, and we lived in a small community, so the teachers knew everyone’s families. My teacher liked me, so whenever they were sending students out, she didn’t let me leave the class. You know what she did instead? Any time my dad walked by the school, she’d run up behind him to shout, “Pay your children’s school fees o!” and some petty insults. I witnessed it a few times.

Ah
You know what’s even funnier? My dad never heard her. He’s the type of person to face where he’s going and ignore every other thing around him. So as she was shouting, it probably sounded like background noise to him.

Do you know what happened to your dad’s business?
His shop stopped getting business. That’s what I know.

Things continued like that for a while and my mum made the big mistake of working even harder to support him. She started feeding us and paying our school fees, and this made my dad relax. She’d even lie and tell us it was my dad that bought this or bought that, but we had eyes and ears. We knew it was all her.

By the time I was leaving primary school, two of my sisters were in university, and the other two were in secondary school. My dad said it was time to marry all of them off because they were old enough for marriage.

God abeg
According to him, some family members and the people in the community where we lived, there was no point in training five daughters if they were just going to go to a husband’s house. Thankfully, my mum fought it. She was university educated; he never finished secondary school.

After that entire thing, he told my mum he was washing his hands off taking care of us. If she didn’t want to marry us off, she should carry the burden of taking care of us herself.

And he kept to his word?
If we went to meet him for money for school fees or whatever, he’d look at us and say he didn’t have. If we pestered, he’d say, “Go and bring a gun and rob me.”

From then to when I graduated from law school, I don’t think I got more than ₦20k in total from him.

How did your mum do it?
It was grace. I don’t know how else to say it. There was a lot of borrowing and begging, but she also got a lot of gifts. At different times, when my older siblings came home from university, they taught in my primary school so they could also make money to help the family.

When I was about to enter secondary school, extended family members started suggesting my mum sent me to do an apprenticeship or become a maid because the money she was spending was too much. But she refused. I went to a military secondary school where being a civilian’s child meant I had to pay way more than military officials’ kids. But with borrowing and begging and gifts, my mum singlehandedly saw me through secondary school.

I never got new clothes. It was hand-me-downs from my older siblings all through. And there was no food at home, so even when my mum increased my daily allowance to ₦100, I used all of it to buy biscuits so I could save some for later. Till today, I can go a week without eating, as long as I have biscuits.

By the time I was wrapping up secondary school at 17 in 2012, things started getting better. My mum got a job at the ministry of education, and money started flowing in. Still, the suggestion to marry me off came.

From your dad?
This time, from extended family. Again, my mum said no. She could afford to send me to university to study law. In fact, she could afford to move us from our two-bedroom apartment, where we’d stayed all our lives to a five-bedroom duplex where she paid ₦250k a year. Our former rent was ₦10k a year. She also bought a car and made sure there was always food at home. I even remember one time when I was cleaning the house, and I saw ₦30k lying around. Things were good.

In university, it’s not like I had plenty of money o, but at least I could eat, and my clothes were mine for the first time. My sister was also doing her master’s in my uni, so I had my mum and sister to depend on.

That’s how things went until I was in my third year, when things got bad again. Even worse.

How?
Office politics happened, and my mum got fired. We had nothing to fall back on and came crashing down. When my mum couldn’t pay the rent that year, and my dad said, “Did I beg you to move?” We eventually moved to a worse apartment in a worse area.

School was a struggle. After every vacation, I went back in tears because all I heard was that there was no money. My mum would say she was trying to find money; my dad would simply say he had no money. I was surviving on my biscuits and occasional meals.

My worst memory from that period was in 500 level when my mum was in too much debt to pay my fees. She and my dad are elders in our church, so she went to meet the pastor to help her with fees. The pastor had one request: let your husband come and ask for how much you need. I can’t remember how much it was I needed for my project, accommodation and school fees, but let’s just use a hypothetical figure — ₦150k. We told this to my dad, and when he got there, he asked for way less. Like ₦50k. And that’s what he got.

Why?
I have no clue. He didn’t explain why he did it. On my way back to school, he gave me two Beefie sausage rolls to eat on the bus.

My mum had to do more borrowing to see me through the final year.

Damn. I’m curious about your older siblings’ role in helping your family
Life doesn’t always turn out how you want it. My siblings were doing their own things and trying to come up in life, but things weren’t working out. Some relationships were also strained. My eldest sister, for example, is complicated. We stay clear of her unless it’s an emergency. If she gives you money, she’ll hold it over your head until you pay her back. At some point, she had a clash with our parents and ghosted. The rest of my siblings were just hustling and struggling.

Gotcha. When did you take your first step into fending for yourself?
April 2018, after university. My mum hated the concept of her children working while in school. She didn’t want to hear of it. It was just, “Focus on your books and come out with a first-class.” And that’s what I did.

After uni, I moved to Lagos to look for internship opportunities so I could save up for law school. We didn’t have family there, so I stayed with a friend’s sister. The plan was to stay with her for one month, but I ended up staying for three. After that, she asked me to move out. She was very nice to me o, she just didn’t like staying with people. She even had siblings who were shocked she was letting a stranger stay with her for three months while they were staying with relatives in the same Lagos.

Read full story here: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/tired-of-black-tax-naira-life/

Tell me about your earliest memory of money
It’s when I was 12 and decided to work for my own money so I could afford Christmas clothes. Before then, my dad always got all of us Christmas clothes, but I wanted to buy my own things. So I started selling efo yanrin (wild lettuce) I got from my dad’s farm and keeping the money until Christmas.

How much was a bundle?
I can’t remember o, but I know the money used to be a lot at the end of each year. Maybe like ₦200 — I’m not sure. But I wasn’t making money selling only vegetables. My dad was majorly a tailor, but he had a big tobacco farm. He had workers who processed the tobacco before he sold it in bulk to white people, but he also had 12 children who helped for free. As the eldest, I approached him and said he needed to pay us too, and he accepted. So that also added up to the ₦200 at the end of the year.

Every year, I used the money for new Christmas clothes, shoes and underwear.

You grew up with 11 siblings?
[/b]Yes. It was normal for one man to have many children. My dad married two wives. I’m the first child of the first wife. I have four siblings from my mum; the rest are from my stepmum. But I didn’t grow up at home. I don’t know if it was a tradition, but both my stepmum’s firstborn and I lived with our respective maternal grandmas.

[b]When were you born?
1977. I’m 45.

Can you tell me what growing up was like?
I enjoyed my childhood. I never heard anyone complain about lack. We always had food. We lived in Saki, a village in Oyo state, but we didn’t feel like we were poor or villagers. Even when I hawked shea butter for my grandma, it was fun for me.

Did you go to school?
I finished primary school in 1991 and secondary school in June 1997. After one month of staying at home to wait for WAEC results, I started getting worried I was waiting too long. I was also scared of going to university because of talk about cult killings. So when I heard people were going to Lagos to find work, I started thinking about it.

What type of work?
Housemaid work. I didn’t want to leave my parents, but after my friends encouraged me, I decided to go. My parents agreed.

So you just came to Lagos yourself?
No o. There was a woman who took people from my village to Lagos. That’s what she did for business. A few friends and I met her, and in July 1997, she brought us to Lagos. Omo, we got to the bus park in Palmgrove and couldn’t stop crying. It was like a dream. I wanted to go back to my parents. But I was already here. We were taken to a house, where we met other people waiting for work.

I’m curious, what would you have studied if you went to university?
I wanted to be either an accountant or a customs officer. Accountant because I was good at accounting and economics in school; customs officer because I heard they got a lot of free money from travellers. WAEC results eventually came out in January 1998. I failed, so university was off my mind.

What was the process of getting a job like?
Someone looking for a maid would contact the woman who brought us to Lagos, and she’d bring them to the house to inspect us and select who they want. For me, it was about a week after I got to Lagos. A woman came and selected two people; one for herself and one for her daughter. I worked for her daughter from July 1997 to April 1998.

How much did they pay?
We didn’t talk about pay. They had that conversation with the woman who brought us to Lagos. Whatever money they gave to her was given to us at the end of each year. Me, I didn’t get my money until April when I was travelling to visit my parents for Easter.

How much?
She first took me to Eko Idumota market. I bought like four lace and ankara materials and some jewellery. Then she gave me ₦20k and put me on a bus home. At the time, I decided I wasn’t returning to Lagos to work for that woman.

Why?
It’s not like she treated me badly, but food wasn’t always available. Many times, I had garri for lunch; I don’t like garri. But I heard stories about how other people treated their maids, and I was happy I was one of the lucky ones. For example, one of the people I came to Lagos with was sent to hawk pure water in traffic and kept getting injured by cars. Others lived with people who beat them.

After a few days at home, I decided to return to Lagos. I hadn’t learnt any trade and didn’t want to stay at home idle. It just seemed like the best option for me, and that’s what I did.

Did you go back to work for the same family?
No. I just went back to the house in Palmgrove to wait for a new person to show up. And three days later, they did. One of the friends I came to Lagos with had worked for their family between 1997 and 1998 and also returned home, so they were looking for another maid. The woman of the house, a mother of three, came to pick me up, and I moved in with them.

Were they nice?
They were great. Even though I did a lot of work — cleaning, cooking, and caring for the children — I wasn’t made to feel like a maid. I worked for them from April to December, then requested to go home for Christmas.

How much did they pay?
The woman that brought me to Lagos paid ₦30k, but the family I worked for gave me some extra money and foodstuff to take home.

Before I left, they asked if I would return. My answer was no. The woman was heavily pregnant, and I didn’t want to become a housemaid plus nanny. After begging me, they offered to pay for me to learn a trade if I returned. My answer was still no.

Back home, I told my parents I wasn’t returning to Lagos to be a maid, but they were against my idea of staying. Then I told them that the family I worked for had offered to pay for me to learn a trade. I expected them to say no, because they could pay for me to learn a trade in Saki. Instead, they even used it to persuade me. So it seemed like I didn’t have a choice but to return in January 1999.

In January, I started learning tailoring. But this meant throughout the time I was learning, I wouldn’t be paid for my maid services.

Huh?
They paid for my tailoring classes, bought whatever materials I asked for and bought me a sewing machine. I accepted the deal. It’s not like I had a choice.

My boss also had her baby in January, so I had to pause my tailoring school for a few weeks. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this, but on the day of the naming, I cried so much.

Why?
I just felt like I was making the wrong choice. The fact that there was now a baby to care for made it seem like my life was over. Like I would work with them forever because I now had an extra responsibility. I thought I wasn’t ever going to see my parents again because I was going to be stuck there. I don’t even know where the thought came from because it’s not like they said or did anything to make me feel that way.

When did you resume tailoring?
Maybe March. When my boss had to return to work after maternity leave, I became the baby’s nanny. Let me not lie, it was hard being a nanny and learning tailoring at the same time. Apart from the new baby, I also had to take care of the other children, pick them from school and cook for them. My progress was so slow! I would see simple styles and wonder if I could ever make them.

Slowly sha, I got better, and by 2002, I did my freedom. The family threw a party for me, invited my own family from the village and gave me a ₦30k cash gift, clothing materials and a new machine. Then they asked me if I wanted to continue working for them, and I said no. This time, they thanked me for my services and took me back to Saki themselves.

Did you stay this time?
No. In 2003, I returned to Lagos to stay with an aunt while I saved to get a shop. That year, I earned ₦6k monthly for six months as a shop attendant for a man who sold building materials. I left to learn some more tailoring with a really good tailor I found in my aunt’s area. But she didn’t want to teach someone older than her, so she took me to another woman. I didn’t enjoy my time there.

Why?
She was a Deeper Lifer, so she only sewed Deeper Life styles. Me, I wanted to learn how to sew what was in fashion. I sha stayed there for six months. By 2005, I got my own tailoring shop. I paid ₦30k a year for it from money I’d saved.

How was business?
It was okay. I made enough money to feed myself, and that was it. Nothing extra.

I still kept a good relationship with the family I’d worked for. So I visited them from time to time. But I also had a boyfriend who stayed close to them. We’d been dating on and off since 2002 because I wasn’t sure my family was going to accept him — he’s a Ghanaian. I’d tell my aunt I was going to see the family, but I was actually going to see my boyfriend.

In January 2007, I found out I was pregnant for him, so we got married in August, and I moved to his place.

Did you continue your tailoring work there?
It was a new area, so I didn’t find a place to work on time. Plus, I was pregnant. After I had my baby, I found a “joinman” job that paid about ₦2k weekly. My husband, who sews aso-oke, was also finding it difficult to get jobs. So we just managed however we could. Times were terrible for two years until the child started school, and I could look for another joinman job. This one paid between ₦16k and ₦25k a month because we were bulk-producing school uniforms.

In 2010, I had my second child and had to stop working for a while. By the time I was ready to resume work, they’d already hired someone to replace me, so I just stayed at home with my children.

For how long?
Until 2011. An extended member of the family I worked with heard I was looking for a job. She reached out to tell me her children’s school needed a cleaner. They offered ₦10k monthly. I took it. They also admitted my children to school for free, and the head teacher lived around my area, so we got free transportation most of the time.

At home, things were still bad. Even if I tried to save out of my ₦10k salary, something would come up. My husband was also struggling badly. We could only afford food. That was it.

Did things change at any point?
I had to stop working at the school in 2013 when I had my third child. Once I could work again, a friend advised me to put my sewing machine in front of my house and wait. Business would come.

Read full story here: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/housekeeper-naira-life/

What’s your earliest memory of money?
Helping my mum sell food at one of her shops. She’s a civil servant, but she took on side hustles — making food, pastries and beads — to support the family when my dad, who was also a civil servant, quit his job to venture into charcoal exporting. Things didn’t work out for him.

My mum was able to carry the burden of taking care of her four children well. We didn’t lack food, clothing or good education. Sometimes, she’d buy clothes for us and say it was our dad who bought them, just to keep things looking good in the family. She was so graceful at it that I knew I had to make my own money too. I even tried to start in JSS 3.

How?
During the holiday after junior WAEC, I asked a neighbour who was a baker to teach me how to bake, and she was excited to. But my dad said no. My parents are big on their children staying home to read rather than doing business.

When I was in SS 3, I made jewellery with my mum’s beads and sold them to friends and neighbours for ₦500 each. That didn’t last long because I went to university in a different state, far away from Lagos.

What did you study?
Law. It would’ve been food and nutrition, but my dad’s late brother was a lawyer. He wanted one of his children to study law as a way to remember him. I got into uni in 2013, but because of ASUU strikes, I had to return home for over a year. In 2015, when I resumed my first year again, I applied and won two scholarships. One was an essay competition, and for the other, I had to write an academic paper and defend it in front of a panel of judges.

I won ₦200k in total and used some of the money to start a business.

What business?
I bought hair straighteners and helped people stretch their hair. I didn’t have the skill. I just thought it could be good business since I was in a girl’s hostel. I printed “Stretch your hair here” and pasted it on my door.

How much did you charge?
Between ₦300 and ₦500. Because I wasn’t good at it, I could spend as long as one hour per person. In 200 level, I stopped and started baking cakes instead. My mum was a baker, and I had a roommate who baked as well, so I used the combined knowledge to bake small cakes for friends and people from fellowship with a stove in the hostel. On some weeks, I made just enough profit to survive on my own. Most other weeks, I survived by asking my parents and aunts and uncles for money.

During strikes, I wouldn’t travel back to Lagos because I didn’t want my parents to keep me home doing nothing. My aunt, who lived in the same state my uni was located, connected me with some families who needed a home lesson teacher for their children. They were three families with a total of 10 children, and I charged between ₦1k and ₦2k per child. So I was doing over ₦10k a month during strikes.

Towards the end of uni, when I went home during a strike, I worked as a teacher in a small school. They paid ₦12k, but I left because it was too far from my house. After that, I worked as a receptionist at a medical lab. They paid me ₦10k for a month.

Those were the things I did to make extra money during university. I graduated in 2019.

What happened after?
I got an internship at a small law firm in Abuja. My older brother lived there, so I moved in with him. For three months, I wasn’t paid a consistent salary. It was always between ₦5k and ₦10k. And my manager kept making passes at me even though I told him to stop. I stopped going there the day he took my hand and put it on his crotch to feel his penis. I told them my dad needed me back in Lagos.

Did you actually return to Lagos?
Yes. But then I had an issue with my brother’s wife. I’m not a heavy eater, and she took that to mean I didn’t want to eat her food.

Also, they had a maid who woke up by 4:30 a.m. to clean the entire house. During the day, I did dishes, ran errands, cooked and helped prepare the kids for school. So tell me why she had a problem with the fact that I wasn’t waking up as early as the maid to do chores.

What happened when you got back?
I worked as a teacher till December. This one paid ₦20k. I also properly learnt how to bake, finally. I paid a baker friend of mine just ₦30k, and she taught me how to make and decorate cakes professionally.

In 2020, I finally went to law school, but I could only stay there for a month before COVID chased us home. Then I decided to start a cake making business.

How did it go?
I was making good cakes, and my friends patronised and recommended me. The problem was I lived in a remote part of Lagos, so it was difficult to find dispatch riders. When they eventually came, they’d still run other deliveries before delivering my cakes late, and many times, smashed up. I didn’t make profit, and I was leaving a bad impression.

Shortly after I stopped, a friend connected me with someone from Ghana who needed to do their school project. They knew I could write, and I knew I needed the money, so I took the job. In about a month, I was done, and the Ghanaian paid me ₦30k. I couldn’t believe it. To me, it was such good money. I started looking for more writing jobs. Someone told me about Fiverr but also discouraged me because Nigerians either didn’t get jobs or were paid poorly.

In the search for writing gigs, I stumbled on the post of a lawyer I followed on LinkedIn, who made money from affiliate marketing. When I reached out to her, she said I needed to learn how to write persuasively to be successful at it. Not the type of writing I did, but copywriting to evoke emotion. I also needed to learn about targeted ads, sales funnels, and all that marketing stuff. Affiliate merketing is promoting other people’s products to get a commission, and I needed to learn properly.

Did you?
Yes. She sold me a course that taught me the fundamentals. It cost ₦40k. I didn’t have the money, but my ex-boyfriend did, and he gave it to me. As soon as I read the first part of the course and understood the basics, I decided to give affiliate marketing a try.

I started in November 2020. By the end of December, I’d made ₦500k.

Read full story: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/-lawyer/

What’s your earliest memory of money?
Hustling for ₦3k at 16. I helped nurses carry polio immunisation kits from house to house. I remember being irritated at how the children ran away and cried because of the injections. I thought, “Oga, just stay and collect this thing. You’re wasting my time.”

How long did you do this?
I did it just once. The ₦3k was for three days of work. The crowd I saw on the day I went to get paid was so much that I couldn’t get my money. I had to come back another day.

When I was told I couldn’t get my money that day, I felt especially terrible I didn’t have a dad. I wouldn’t have to hustle for ₦3k like that if my dad was around. I swore that I’d never be poor in life. The experience was that bad.

Where was your dad?
No idea. He just wasn’t around. I started working at 16 because, as the firstborn, I felt like I had to. It was just my mum, my younger sister and me, and at that point, I was old enough to realise how much my mum was doing for us.

My mum is a trader, but she made sure we wore good clothes, never skipped meals, and were never sent out for school fees. She put us through private primary school, but when it was time for secondary school, she sat us down and told us she couldn’t afford a private secondary school.

What was the switch like?
Omo, first it was embarrassing. All my friends from primary school went to private secondary schools.

I won’t lie; going into secondary school, I believed public school students weren’t as intelligent as private school students. It was a stereotype that flew around in my primary school. I soon realised it was a lie. People are smart everywhere. I’m hardworking today because of how hard I had to compete academically in senior secondary school.

Tell me about it
My set was a bit too serious. The principal had to call an assembly to tell us to loosen up and come out to play sometimes because we were reading too much. We represented the school in competitions, some against private schools, and won. I don’t know what motivated the others, but I knew how hard my mum was working to take care of my sister and me, and I just didn’t want to disappoint her.

As serious as I was though, maths was a problem. I got an F when I wrote GCE in SS 2, and a D when I wrote WAEC in SS 3. I couldn’t get into university with those grades, so it was that year I stayed at home and did menial jobs like the immunisation one.

What other jobs did you do?
I worked at a factory that produced hangers for ₦14k a month. I quit after a few months and got another job at a factory that printed past questions. That one paid ₦19k a month, but it was the most hazardous job ever. I inhaled so much smoke because I worked near a generator. There was a time I fell while carrying a load of heavy papers My boss saw me on the ground and said that if I destroyed the papers, the money would be deducted from my salary. My ₦19k salary!

After another few months there, I left and did WAEC and JAMB lessons. I used my money to pay. By 2015, when I was 18, I entered university to study mass communication.

Was that what you wanted?
Yes. I liked listening to the OAPs on Beat FM, so I thought I could do something in entertainment. In fact, because of how much they talked about Twitter, I opened a Twitter account and started being funny and steadily gaining followers in their hundreds and thousands.

Was it your mum who supported you through university?
For about two years. In 2017, I started making my own money.

How did you learn to write?
I wrote essays all the time in secondary school, so writing didn’t feel like a skill I had to learn.

When I started using Fiverr, I had to use a VPN to make it seem like I wasn’t in Nigeria because, for some reason, it was hard for Nigerians to get jobs. Within 24 hours of opening an account, I got an essay-writing job that paid $5.

In less than two months, I made $100 — the threshold for a first withdrawal. It was about ₦50k when I withdrew it. If you see my mum’s joy when I called her to tell her I made that much from writing online. She even called our pastor and told him.

That year, I made about $500.

Was it just through essay writing?
My brother, when poverty holds you, your creativity will come up. I wrote marketing articles, essays, assignments, and even poems for people’s partners. There was also a lady that paid me just to rant to me.

You were also doing therapist work? God when?
But I wasn’t saving sha. I was spending the money anyhow. Even the next year, when I made almost $4k by levelling up, I didn’t save. I sent my mum some money, but I wasted the rest in school.

Read full article here: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/social-media-influencer-naira-life/

What’s your earliest memory of money?
My grandma worked at CBN and used to bring home mint notes from work for me and my siblings. I was about five or six when this started, and it was so cool just holding new money, no matter how many times I got it.

When you say “bring home”… You lived with her?
We lived in the family house owned by my paternal grandpa, which was a mansion. My nuclear family — dad, mum, me and three siblings — and two maids lived upstairs, and my grandma lived downstairs.

What did your parents do for a living?
My dad was a banker and my mum was an accountant.

Sounds like money all around
I didn’t notice how privileged I was until I got into boarding school when I was 10. In retrospect, I think my parents sent me there to see that there was another side to life. In primary school, my classmates were children of ministers and even governors, I had a driver, and I travelled during the summers.

In boarding school, I waited a whole week and ran out of clean clothes before I found out there was nobody coming to do my laundry. I had to learn to wash my own clothes. I had classmates whose parents were drivers and who lived in face-me-I face-yous.

When I was 13, we moved back to the UK.

Back?
I was born and spent my first five years there. We returned because that’s what my dad wanted.

So why did you go back at 13?
My mum ran away from my dad’s domestic violence. We waited for him to go to work one day and japa-d. Extended family tried to mediate, but they never got back together. We, his children, never stopped talking to him, and he came to stay with us in London a few times in a year. He also still sent money for school and upkeep throughout, so we were never in need of anything.

What was moving like?
I had to quickly learn independence. There was nothing like having a driver or being sheltered. I bused to school and had to run errands for my mum. I even got my first job as a sales assistant at 15. Not because we needed the money as a family. It’s just something many 15 and 16-year-olds in the UK do as their first job. I used my money to go out to the movies with my friends.

How long did you stay in the UK?
12 years. I returned to Nigeria in 2013, three years after university.

What was that like?
I came back for a wedding, and family members and friends kept telling me to move back, so I thought, “Okay”. When I got back to the UK, I told my mum, and she thought it was fine. My dad was excited I was coming to Nigeria to stay with him. So I quit my job and returned to Nigeria. The plan was to do NYSC first and decide what to do afterwards.

I’m so confused. First, you quit your job for Nigeria?
LOL. First of all, I was confused after uni. Then I saw a master’s in human resources programme and thought, “Let me try this”. When I told my dad, he said, “HR? what do you want to use HR for?” And that’s how I decided not to do a master’s anymore.

Instead, I got a job on the marketing team of an advertising agency. My job was to help them ensure their campaigns were seen by as many people as possible. It’s not what I studied in uni, but I learnt on the job and did well at it.

I see. So, NYSC camp…
I just wanted to do it. And camp was so much fun. I’d go again if I had the chance.

After camp, Nigeria itself wasn’t so fun. It was frustrating. Like I moved from sanity to chaos. I had to learn to be sharp. People were scamming me because I seemed soft and new.

Welcome. Where did you work for NYSC?
They posted me to a school that would pay me ₦8k a month, but my dad wasn’t having it, so he got me a job at Lagos State Internal Revenue Service (LIRS) instead. This one paid ₦25k monthly, and that was enough to see me through a month. I only needed the money to fuel my car. I lived with my dad, there was food at home, and I only went to work.

What did you do there?
Nothing. Corp members weren’t allowed to know too much about the operations because a lot of it is sensitive, so I just sat all day. They tried to retain me at the end of my one year there, but I rejected their offer. I was tired of Nigeria.

So you left again?
Yep. I moved back to London and got another marketing job almost immediately. After two months, I realised I actually preferred living in Nigeria. London was boring. The only thing it was offering was a structured society, nothing else. So I moved back to Lagos to look for work.

What did you find?
I met an NGO founder through a friend, and he hired me. His NGO helped small business owners get grants and funding, and I worked as his assistant. It was a lot of work for ₦80k, but I did it to engage my brain. Again, I didn’t need money for survival. I had everything I needed at home. If I needed extra money for anything like flight tickets or car problems, I saved towards it.

Have you ever had to work for money to survive?
Not yet, no.

What’s that like?
It means I never have to feel tied down to a job. If I ever feel like something is not right for me, I’ll leave. I know I’ll be fine.

After about a year at the NGO, I quit.

Why?
I had to do some travelling with my mum and siblings. Just to unwind.

When I returned to Nigeria, I started thinking about getting a long-term job so I could be a bit more settled. From the conversations I had with friends, the two major jobs that stood out were banking and federal parastatal jobs. Top of that list was Federal Inland Revenue Service (FIRS).

Banking was a no-no for me. It just seemed like slavery having to do so much high-intensity work and be under pressure all my life. And I also heard banks sometimes hired people based on their looks. I didn’t want to be a professional call girl.

Read full article here: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/tax-collector-naira-life/

What is your earliest memory of money?
The first time I had money of my own to spend, I was 10, and my parents had just separated. My mother was sick in the hospital, and I was living with some family friends because we had also lost our house.

People aware of our situation would see us and give us money along with their condolences.

I’m so sorry. Why was this the first time you had money though?
My parents never allowed us to take anything from anybody. We were a Deeper Life household, and they were very particular about who my brothers and I hung around. We were practically cut off from our extended family, so there were no uncles and aunties to give us money.

But even when we did get cash gifts, they came from parents and teachers at the school my mother ran. These gifts were never really for us to do what we wanted. My mother had complete control over them.

How much would you usually get?
₦50 and ₦20 there. Nothing too crazy. But it would add up over time, and after some time, I’d have saved up to ₦700 or ₦1000, which was a lot of money for the late 90s / early 2000s.

I agree. So what did you spend this money on?
Books.

Lol, why?
Books were always a part of my life. My mother was a mathematics teacher and the proprietress of a school. We had food, shelter and everything else we needed, so when there was extra money, my mother put it towards getting more books.

If you didn’t have to spend that money on books, what would you have done?
There was this bicycle you could rent and ride in the neighbourhood. I didn’t have a bicycle, so I’d have wanted to spend my money on that.

But I don’t have regrets. Reading those books helped open my mind. They’re one of the reasons I’m an Ifa priest today.

Please explain.
The first thing books did was make me question everything.

I was 8 when I read The Destruction of Black Civilization by Chancellor Williams. It made me see the beauty that Africa had before colonisation. That was the beginning of my journey to being a non-conformist.

I came across Ifa later in a recommended book in secondary school. The title was “Awọn Oju Odu Mẹrindiogun” written by Prof. Wande Abimbola. Ironically, this was a book I found in the library at my mother’s school. If only she knew.

The book was written entirely in Yoruba, and when I got to the part of the book that spoke about Ifa and traditional worship, the prayers I saw there read like poetry. They were prayers I believed anyone would want to say for themselves. I was expecting to find occultic evil incantations like in Nollywood movies.

Interesting. When would you say you finally went beyond the books?
I couldn’t do much because soon after my family went through a rough period.

What happened?
It was a series of unfortunate events that started with a tortoise car my mother bought for my father.

In 2001, my father lost his job at Guinness. Of the two of them, my mother was always the wealthier parent, and she wanted to get a car for herself. She changed her mind for two reasons: she couldn’t drive yet, and she thought my father would get more use out of it.

His family told him my mother was trying to steal his destiny by giving him the car. He was advised to cut her off and leave us alone. That’s precisely what he did. He never drove the car, and it stayed where it was till it rusted.

There’s a lot to unpack here. But first, why didn’t she continue using the car?
While he was leaving, other things were happening. Our house and my mother’s school were in Meiran, and the school was doing well for a while. But in this same year, we got eviction notices from the landlord of our home and of my mother’s school.

At once?
It wasn’t funny o. As if that wasn’t enough, she fell sick. It started as something small, and when she was admitted, the doctor told us it would be for about a week. That turned to seven months. It was while she was in the hospital and dealing with all the quit notices that she gave birth to my fourth brother prematurely.

Where were you at this time?
I was still home, and I was going to my mother’s school, but things weren’t looking good. People had heard about the place being closed down, and my mother was in the hospital. Parents started to withdraw their children, and without children to teach, the teachers left as well.

I moved in with a family friend and lived with them until my mother was out of the hospital. When she was better, she went to a property she had at Ijaye in Lagos. She was building a school complex there before all these bad things started. She discovered that the land she had been building on apparently belonged to someone else. She had been duped.

My mother cried a lot during this time. She kept going to the Oba of Ijaye with my newborn brother in her arms. She did this until they gave her some land in Sango Ota, so that she would stop coming there to cry. We eventually moved into a small bungalow she constructed on that land. My brothers and I joined her later.

Oh wow.
It felt like fate when I met my first babalawo in Sango-Ota. He was our neighbour, and he’d often send us food during any celebration, but my mother ensured we never tasted any of it.

At the time, I knew there was nothing to be afraid of. I’d read more books about Ifa and knew that all the stereotypes attached to Ifa worship were a lie. But I was not going to use my mouth to say that to my mother.

My new school was around Alakoko and just happened to be beside one of the biggest Ifa temples in the country. That was where I first started studying Ifa under experienced babalawos. I was intrigued by the fact that the temple owner had a doctorate. It was refreshing to come into the temple and hear bright young men consulting each other, saying prayers and helping people find answers to questions about their lives and destinies.

Till I left secondary school at 14, the temple became the one place I could go where the world was not burning around me. Being around Ifa gave me peace.

You were 14 when you finished secondary school?
Yup! I skipped a few grades in primary school. I was quite gifted in a lot of my subjects.

How were things at home during this time?
At this point, my mother was trying to get back on her feet. I still got money from friends and family who came around or saw me at school, and my mother would give me money often. She didn’t object to the money I was receiving because she didn’t feel like she could chastise us anymore after what had happened. I averaged about ₦2,500 monthly by the time I was leaving secondary school.

So university came next?
Not exactly. It took a while before I got into uni.

How come?
I can’t explain, but I’ll try.

My friends and I started a free tuition class to help ourselves and others pass the entrance exams. After the tutorials, we took the exams, but I was the only one who didn’t pass. I didn’t pass WAEC, JAMB and NECO for three years.

At home, things weren’t funny. I was dealing with pressure from my parents to go and work in some of the factories in the area.

“Parents”?
Yes, my father came back after four years.

Sir?
There wasn’t any pomp or pageantry. He was gone for four years, and we didn’t hear anything from him. All of a sudden he was back and was our father again.

Okay. Please proceed.
These factories paid about ₦500 a day, and my entire spirit screamed no. I decided, instead, to make the tutorial a money-making venture. We were recording impressive success rates — just not for me for some reason.

In my second year at home, I partnered up with my mother and made the tutorials even more legit. For subjects I didn’t know too well, she brought teachers to help.

On average I was making about ₦10 to ₦15k monthly from the tutorials.

Eventually, I got into Yabatech to study electrical engineering in 2012.

Thank Ifa.
Thank Ifa because it was the year I decided to sacrifice something to Ifa that I passed JAMB. I couldn’t afford to get a goat or anything by myself, but I bought agidi (eko) and used it. With Ifa, you’re always told to do what you can.

But I saw shege in Yabatech o.

Ah, what happened?
A few months into school, I had a massive fight with my parents about studying Ifa, which escalated. I was disowned, and my siblings were asked to not speak to or collect anything from me.

How did your parents find out?
Before I started charging for the tutorials, my mother had a dream. She saw me wearing white clothes and holding a lion cub. She interpreted this dream to mean I was probably desperate for money and willing to do rituals. It’s interesting to note here that a lion cub is a symbol of Ifa.

That dream caused some friction, but my mother figured the tutorials would help with money, so she was willing to help me there.

When I got into university, I started going to the temple more often and being part of divinations and generally enjoying my time with Ifa. Some family friends came to the temple for some divinations and saw me.

They reported to my mother.

I was taken to several deliverances where pastors prayed and fasted to get the “demon” out of me.

I can’t even imagine how horrible that was. How were you surviving in uni?
Wo, survival is relative. I was barely getting by, but I had to fend for myself. Since I couldn’t collect Jesus’ money from my parents, I did everything I could.

I worked in the school cafeteria for a while, sold past questions, did night tutorials and even wrote exams for people. For a full day of these things, I was making about ₦3k or ₦4k.

I couldn’t get this every day, but I was making enough to eat and not die.

When did things change?
Around 2014, two years in, I went to visit a young lady I liked at the time in her departmental building. When we were done talking, I heard a lot of intense arguing coming from a room. I peeped in and saw members of the student government. I waited outside for a few hours because the way they were talking sparked something in me, and I wanted a chance to be like that — someone who could speak truth to power.

I spoke to members of the parliament at the time and decided to run for office. While I did this, I was also writing and editing as the editor-in-chief of a publication on campus. That wasn’t a gig that paid.

Being in parliament changed things for me. I didn’t have to worry about the ₦14,500 per semester hostel fees anymore. We were also paid a salary and sitting allowances for every meeting.

What did those add up to?
I know the sitting allowance was ₦1500. It was cemented in our heads because we were always looking forward to the payment that followed those meetings.

The salary was about ₦30k per semester.

Enjoyment. So by 2015, you were done with school?
Not exactly.

Hm?
Unfortunately, I was told that I could not graduate.

Sometime in 2015, because I wanted to use my voice and position as a member of parliament, I wrote a petition against five lecturers in my department. They were notorious for refusing to teach students if we didn’t pay some extra money. Nothing about it made sense. They would collect money for frivolous reasons and make life harder for students.

It didn’t sit well with me. I love all these freedom fighter things. And in all of it, my thinking was, “If this has to get messy, Ifa is around.”

It got messy, but I think the part that shocked me the most was having my fellow students chastise me for coming out to complicate things for them.

I ended up just leaving without my certificate. Sometime in 2020, Yabatech announced a programme that allowed people like me to get their certificates. That was how I was able to get mine and sign up for the BSc programme I’m doing now.

What did you do after leaving Yabatech?
I applied and got a job at an oil company. It was an entry-level role in the brand and communications department, and it paid ₦120k a month.

Things were better. After I was disowned, I swore never to return to my mother’s house and stood by it. My siblings started to reach out more because they needed things, and of course, I sent money.

During the holidays, I went to my new home — Ifa’s temple. There is an unwritten rule with the temples: if a person shows up and says they want to learn about Ifa, they automatically have a place to stay and food to eat.

I visited so many temples, around Lagos and even beyond. I would spend my holidays in the place I felt happiest while learning about something I truly believed in.

Read full story: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life-of-a-babalawo/

Get this and other money related stories, subscribe to #MoneybyZikoko: https://www.subscribepage.com/moneybyzikoko

What’s your earliest memory of money?
Staying in my mum’s shop, attending to customers and counting money with her at the end of each day.

What did she sell?
Pure water and soft drinks. Before that, she was a hairdresser, and before that, she was a full-time housewife. She only started working when I was seven and the chickens in my dad’s farm started dying. I remember when she made her first ₦1k in a day from the drinks, and we were all excited.

My mum was a hustler. From selling soft drinks, she somehow started importing fabrics from Cotonou to sell in Ibadan where we lived, and in a few years, she was making multiple Dubai trips, importing expensive fabrics in bulk. In the course of her business, she encountered some Chinese merchants, who wanted to import household and gift items, and partnered with them. Today, she has seven big stores.

So you grew up rich
There were ups and downs. Before my mum had to start business, things were okay. They had four cars between them, all bought by my dad. But he never recovered financially from the loss of his birds, so there was a period when things weren’t so great. These days, my mum would apologise for constantly feeding us eko when we didn’t have money. In my head, I’m like, “I love eko!”

As my mum’s business got better, things picked up again — this time, even better. She made the money and my dad took care of us, especially when she was out of the country. We went from living in a rented apartment to building our own house, having cars, maids, and my sisters went to a private university.

You didn’t?
I wanted to go to my dad’s alma mater to study computer engineering because we’d spoken about it for years, so that’s what I did.

Why computer engineering?
I was good at maths, and the adults around me said there was money in engineering and computers were the future.

University itself was pretty uneventful. I survived on ₦7k weekly from my parents and faced my studies. I’ve always been confident and not-so-social, so people always thought I was a snub. Before each semester, I got everything I needed — bulk provisions, new clothes, a new phone, everything — so I didn’t really need anything from anyone. I didn’t have many friends, no boyfriends, no after-school parties. After each semester, I went home and stayed with my mum at her shops.

Why didn’t you have friends?
I’ve been like that since childhood. My older sister was the beautiful one, and I was the big one friends insulted and compared to my sister. So I learnt to be unfriendly, to insult people when they insulted me. I was always brilliant, so I always came first and got prizes. That’s how I consoled myself.

Because of my personality, my mum would jokingly say I wasn’t the best person to do business. I didn’t know how to haggle or persuade people.

Interesting. Back to school
In 2013, when I was in my fourth year, I worked as an intern in the IT department of a bank. The pay was ₦40k.

About a year later, during NYSC, I overheard people talking about how the banking industry was the next big thing because a popular Nigerian bank was offering graduate trainee programs and paying ₦230k. That piqued my interest, but I didn’t do anything about it.

What happened next?
I served in Lagos, so I lived with my older sister who’d married and settled there. She’d just started an event planning business, so I helped her do some running around. My NYSC PPA was kuku at a local government office where we didn’t do much.

Did your sister pay you?
Nothing official, but there was the occasional ₦10k here and ₦20k there. I’ve never been a spender, so I was saving all the money.

Seven months into NYSC, I saw a Tweet about the same bank offering graduate trainee programs, so this time, I decided to apply. My dad, ever the pessimist, discouraged me from taking the exams. “They just want to scam you!”

Did they?
Thankfully, no. I passed the exam and a few interview stages, but when it was time to resume, the bank was concerned that I was still a youth corper. The interviewer asked me to send an email when I finished serving, that my job would be waiting for me.

I applied to two other places for work. I qualified for the first one but didn’t get the job because there was no space in technology advisory, the department I applied for.

For the second job, I was disqualified at the second stage of their interview because I couldn’t find a Nigeria ‘96 jersey.

Huh?
Internships used to ask for weird stuff like that. I know someone another company asked to bring a white Nokia 3310.

LMAO
By October, I finished NYSC, so I sent the email to the bank’s recruitment officer. They didn’t get back to me, so I just returned to Ibadan to help my mum at her shop. By November ending, they finally responded, asking me to resume training school in December. In May 2015, I fully joined the bank’s tech department at one of their Lagos Island branches.

What was that like?
My parents were excited. They thought it was great that they didn’t have to do anything for me before I got a job. They didn’t even have to buy me a car like they did my older sister because my job came with one.

It did?
Yes, but I had to pay ₦88k monthly from my ₦236k salary until I paid off the ₦5.84m it cost.

I was on the product team, and I became popular because I was handling an application that was crucial to the operation of the entire bank. This meant more work and less time for myself. I had to go from deep in the mainland, where I lived with my sister, to the island everyday. I even lost weight and was breaking out on my face, but at least, I enjoyed my work. It’s ironic because the one thing I never play with is food. Till today, I don’t spend money on a lot of things. But when it comes to food, I have no budget. Every time I was on leave, I went to Ibadan to be with my parents and regain weight.

Love it
In 2018, I ordered six shoes on ASOS for $15 a pair, and they were delivered when I was on leave in Ibadan. When I got back, I tried on the shoes. None of them was my size because I’d grown fatter, and my legs were bigger.

Because they were good quality shoes, I decided to buy them again in my new size. When I got back on ASOS, I saw that the same shoes I bought for $15 were now on sale for $7.50. I bought six pairs again, but with the intention to keep one and sell the rest.

How did you sell them?
I showed them to my coworkers who liked and bought them for ₦10k per pair. The dollar rate was about ₦400/$1 then, so I made a profit.

I guess you weren’t so bad at business
LMAO. A friend who was impressed that I sold everything in such a short time brought up an idea: shipping in shoes from China to sell. The stereotype around Chinese products being fake first made me reject the idea, but she persuaded me.

An old secondary school colleague was doing her PhD in China at the time, so I reached out to ask her about it. Coincidentally, she was already into that business. So we partnered.

She sent pictures and prices of shoes. I selected the ones I liked and could afford. We paid for the items and got them shipped by air to Nigeria. Everything happened so fast. From the time my friend presented the idea to me to when I paid for my items, only one month passed.

How many did you buy?
I’m not a risk taker, so I started with five shoes. Each pair cost ₦3500, shipping inclusive, and I sold them at ₦8500 to colleagues.

With time, I increased the number of pairs I bought, quality of shoes and selling price. I started buying at ₦5k and selling at ₦10k because Instagram vendors were selling the same shoes at ₦15k. The ones I bought for ₦7k, I sold for ₦15k. Instagram vendors sold at ₦25k.

Read full article: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/the-soft-nairalife-of-the-engineer-making-millions-selling-shoes/

Tell me about your earliest memory of money
A specific memory isn’t coming to mind, but one thing is certain — I grew up in abject poverty, and I knew it. I’m the third of four kids. We lived in a mini flat where the room was storage for our clothes, and everyone slept on the living room floor.

I’m talking poor as per we didn’t go to school for a whole year because our parents couldn’t afford the fees. We couldn’t afford medical bills. We barely ate. It was normal for my mum to take us to hang around in church and pray until someone gave us money or food.

Our parents even taught us to lie that they weren’t around when the landlord came to ask for rent.

Omo
Because everyone was frustrated, there was constant emotional abuse from my parents on us. They also constantly fought over money. During one of their fights, there were threats of pouring acid one one another.

Thankfully, they got jobs the year I turned 10.

Did that change anything?
Yes. My mum got a job at the church as an administrative employee, and my dad joined the technical staff of a hospital.

In the space of five years, we moved out of the mini flat into our own house. My mum got a car as a giift from someone who was leaving the country and gave it to my dad, then bought her own car. We were eating multiple meals a day. But we were still being sent out of school for defaulting on fees.

Why?
My mum made more money than my dad from her salary and people giving her gifts, but she insisted she wouldn’t pay our fees. She contributed most to building the house and feeding us, so it was on my dad to pay the school fees for all four of us.

But at this point, my older brother was in a private university, so it was difficult for my dad. Every time I was sent out of school, I ‘d cook up a lie because my classmates couldn’t understand why my parents seemed well-to-do, but I was owing fees.

“My parents forgot to pay.”

“They’ve paid. I just forgot to bring the teller.”

You learn to lie a lot when you grow up poor.

When I turned 15, things got bad again.

Damn. How?
Both my parents stopped working.

First, my mum resigned because of office politics and people saying she was overly favoured by her boss. We lived on my dad’s salary for a while. And then, he lost his job.

My parents didn’t have any money kept anywhere because they used their salaries for those five years to build the house and send us to school. We had a house and cars but went hungry for days again. We eventually had to sell the cars to survive.

When I turned 16, in 2014, my parents couldn’t afford the ₦15k university fees. It’s not like they were trying to find it o. They straight up said I should sit at home and maybe learn computers for a year.

Is that what you did?
After many tears, they gathered money from family members, and I went to school.

In my first year, I was the broke roommate, and it was obvious. I wore trash clothes, never had money and hardly ate. In fact, a roommate pulled me aside one day and asked if everything was okay at home because other people in the room were asking why I was so haggard.

One four-day Muslim holiday, all my roommates went home, but I didn’t have any money, so I stayed back. When I say I didn’t have money, I mean I had just ₦100. I bought a bag of pure water on Thursday of the long weekend, and that’s all I had until Monday. I’d wake up, drink water, sit around in the room and go back to bed.

When a roommate came back on Monday morning, I was half dead. She had to rush to the shops to get a bottle of soft drink to pour into my mouth before buying me food.

Beginning of my second year, my parents were blunt: “You can’t keep calling us for money. You know the situation at home.” I had to start looking out for myself.

What did you do?
I helped people sell stuff, cooked for boys who had apartments and didn’t want to make their own food and ushered at birthday parties and offic events. I was making about ₦5k every week, so at least, I could eat. But I was also missing classes and tests because I had work to do. People thought I was unserious, but they didn’t get that I literally wouldn’t have anything to eat if I didn’t do those jobs. And it’s not like I was enjoying the jobs. Ushering is hell.

It is?
Don’t even let me start. Is it the standing for hours? Or the uncomfortable dresses? Or having to smile while people throw food at you, insult, threaten and sexually harass you? My eyes have seen shege.

Damn
Towards the end of my second year, I saw an ad for an internship at a PR company. I was a business administration student, but I didn’t mind doing social media marketing work. I just needed money, and this was going to pay ₦40k.

The day before the interview, I had zero money. I couldn’t call my parents because I knew how that was going to end, so I went for church fellowship and just hoped somehow someone would give me money.

Long story short, I didn’t get any money. Thankfully though, the interview was postponed at the last minute to the holiday period when I would be at home. At least there was a small chance I could get money from home.

One week before the interview, they called to say it was just a formality and I’d resume that day either way. Every day, I reminded my parents that I’d need money for transportation. They said, “God will provide”. On the day of the interview, they said, “We don’t have money.” I cried, rolled on the floor, begged; no money. I lost the job opportunity.

Wow
When I resumed for my third year, I packed everything I owned. I called home and told them I wasn’t returning until I made money.

They thought I was joking.

Year three was bad too. Because I was squatting in the hostel, I literally had to sleep outside many nights when the security guards didn’t let me in. One of those nights, I called my mum to tell her my situation, and her response was, “What should I do?”

I think it was on one of those nights I told myself I had to be rich in this life.

Read full story here: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/nairalife-this-marketing-babe-vowed-not-to-return-home-until-she-made-money/

What’s your earliest memory of money?
I went into my mum’s purse to steal money to play PS1. It was about ₦5 per game.

How old were you?
Between six and 10.

You were already going out to play games that young?
Yes o. I was one of those children that matured pretty fast.

As a child, I was abused by an older lady, so I think that made me grow up faster than people my age. Before my friend introduced me to gaming, all I did after school was read. My dad didn’t like beating me, so he always found punishments that encouraged me to read or just be smarter.

It started with writing one to 1000 on foolscap paper. After that, even when he wasn’t punishing me, he’d bring home up to 20 short books every Thursday from his office’s library. I had to read and summarise them for him by Sunday evening. All that reading also helped me develop faster mentally.

When my friend introduced me to gaming, I started to read faster so I could have time to go out.

I’m now curious about what home was like
I was an only child until I turned six, so I was often bored. My dad is a chartered accountant, and my mum is a caterer. Ours is a humble background.

What does that mean?
I had garri for breakfast and lunch almost every day for years. In retrospect, I think that’s why my eyesight is terrible now. It was common for me to be sent away from school because I defaulted on fees. I had such low self-esteem. I used to run away from church before service closed because I wore tatters and didn’t want to interact with my age mates who were better dressed.

When my parents had me in 1989, they weren’t even close to being financially stable. I think it’s these days people look for financial stability before getting married. Things started to get better when I was about nine years old.

How did you know things were getting better?
Yorubas have a saying — “T’ébi bá kúrò nínú ìsẹ́, ìsẹ́ búse”. It means once hunger is no longer a part of your problems, you’re no longer a pauper. We started eating less garri and more rice, beans and spaghetti. Chicken was still a luxury, but things were getting better. I also wasn’t getting sent out of school anymore.

But it’s not like things were great great. I still had to walk about eight kilometres every day for my six years in secondary school.

What happened after secondary school?
I finished secondary school in 2009 and didn’t pass maths in WAEC or GCE, so I couldn’t go to university. To be honest, I didn’t even want to. I wanted to join the army. All the books and newspapers I read growing up gave me knowledge about politics and history, and the army just felt cool. Being in the army was popular when I was growing up, even until Obasanjo was president. Also, because of my parents, I listened to a lot of old songs from Fela and the likes that spoke about change. Many of these songs mentioned the army.

In retrospect, too, I think I wanted to be in the army because of my self-esteem and anger issues.

So you joined the army?
Not immediately. I first went to computer school for six months. There, I learned Microsoft Word, Corel Draw, Excel, how to clean a hard drive, and how to fix computers. It was ₦15k, but my dad could only afford ₦7k. Thankfully, they never asked for the balance because the owner took a liking to me.

Why?
I talked about history and politics with him. So instead of sending me away when it was time for defaulters to leave, he sent me on errands instead. I bought food, delivered messages and shared flyers convincing people to join the school. At some point, I even taught other students.

After computer school, I did factory jobs that paid ₦5k a month just to hold body. That’s how most of 2010 went. In 2011, I joined the Nigerian Defence Academy (NDA).

How does one join the NDA?
I don’t know about now, but I had to write JAMB and pick NDA as my first choice. If you pass JAMB, you then have to do physical and psychological evaluations before you’re admitted. NDA is free to attend because it’s in service to your country, so my dad didn’t have to worry about money. In fact, I got monthly stipends from the government. Like ₦15k. Because of my political dreams, I decided to study political science.

Study political science in NDA?
Yes, the NDA is like a university. In addition to military training, you also study a course for four years so you can specialise in the army.

Makes sense. What was NDA like?
I dropped out after two years.

Sir?
An uncle in the army advised me to. He thought I had “bigger potential” than being a soldier. For example, if I became a governor — I still want to — I’d have soldiers at my beck and call. He wanted me to go to a university, get a proper education, and establish myself as a non-military man. Being in the army meant I could only get promoted when the army wanted me to. On the outside, I had the potential to be whatever I wanted.

I’d probably even be dead now if I was in the army. If not from Boko Haram, then from being too radical and getting in trouble.

So university?
Yep. After I had to rewrite WAEC. I studied public administration. It was meant to be political science, but I made a mistake with the JAMB form.

Did anything fun happen in school?
When I was in my second year, in 2014, there was a long ASUU strike. Because I was bored and broke, I decided to look for ways to make money. I went to a school near my house and told them I wanted to teach for them, and they agreed. The pay was ₦14k to teach government. Over time, they added English, commerce and literature with no additional pay. But I didn’t collect my salary until the end of my six months there. I told them to keep it for me because I wanted to use it to buy a laptop. The money I survived on was after-school lesson money. Like ₦5k a month.

There was also a brief stint where I learned to sew during this strike period. I had to stop because my eyesight was a problem.

By the time I was resuming school in late 2014, I’d used my saved salary and a ₦20k bonus to buy a ₦52k laptop, pay my ₦20k fees and buy foodstuff. When I got back to school, I started a security business.

Read full story: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/nairalife-this-farmer-has-done-everything-and-wants-to-be-governor/

Tell me about your earliest memory of money
One day, my uncle gave me ₦100, and it meant I had so much more money to spend the next day. I was used to collecting ₦50 for lunch. That day I realised, omo, money is good.

LMAO
It’s like getting 2x your salary unplanned. As I got older, these small gifts from relatives or my mum sending me on errands and asking me to keep the change became more frequent. They brought so much joy to my heart. If I had extra money, I knew what snacks I’d buy with it the next day. But as I got older, my spending priorities began to change because I had interests.

Interests like…
Football. When I was in primary school, my dad bought my footballs. In junior secondary school, my guys and I had to buy our balls. When you play football on the streets, you lose a lot of balls. Sometimes, the ball bursts. Other times, it goes into someone’s compound who won’t give you back.

All this talk about balls…
LOL. My guys and I hated losing balls, so we either always had an extra one or bought a new one at least once a week. It was Health 4, and it was ₦300. We contributed for it pretty often. In fact, because we were regular customers of the woman who sold the balls, she gave us on credit sometimes — as long as we made a ₦200 deposit.
What this meant was I spent less money on snacks and more on football. It also made me understand more money meant more pleasure. I had to protect my money from getting lost so I could afford what I wanted.

I’m guessing you always wanted more money
Yep.

How did you plan to get it?
Grow up, go to school, get really good grades, get a job — I think that’s how us millennials grew up.

Who is us? I’m young, please. Was football your only motivation to make money?
Nah, it wasn’t. There was something my dad would say that inspired my second reason to make money in this life.

Tell me about it
Whenever he bounced my siblings and me from watching cartoons because he wanted to watch the news, he’d tell us the story of how, when he got to Lagos, he couldn’t afford colour TVs, but now, he had one. He’d say if we made money when we got older, we could get as many TVs as we wanted — even in our bathrooms — and nobody would say anything.

So do you have a TV in your bathroom?
LMAO, nope. Just the one in my living room, but I can watch whatever I want.

Haha. I’m guessing the next phase of your life was uni
Yep.

What did you study?
Economics. It was my dad’s choice. I wanted to study electrical and electronics engineering, but he wanted me to be a banker like my mum. In fact, I started with science class in SS 1, and he threatened to not pay my school fees any further if I didn’t switch to commercial class.

My major options after commercial class were economics and accounting, and I chose economics because it felt more practical and versatile. Like I could solve real-life problems. Accounting was just numbers. And that’s why I actually enjoyed studying it in uni.

What was uni like?
I enjoyed it. I went to classes, got good grades, made friends, played video games, partied, everything. I entered in 2007, and monthly allowance from my parents started at ₦10k. By the time I was graduating in 2011, it was ₦20k. I can’t remember when it increased.

Was it money you could survive on?
If I lived according to my means, yes. I went to a federal school somewhere in the east where things weren’t so expensive. But because I had extra things to spend on — girlfriends, parties, drinks — I either had to cut living costs or make extra money.

How did you make extra money?
I wrote exams for people. Because my grades were good, I got asked to write exams for someone, and I passed it. That’s how word spread, in small circles, that I could write exams for people. It was ₦5k per paper.

By my third year though, to reduce the risk of getting caught, I dropped all my clients except one guy, and I wrote exams for him until I graduated. If he had nine papers in a semester, I wrote them all and made ₦45k. We also became friends, so sometimes, I went to chill at his house, and we went out to get drinks together. He’d pay, of course.

Why didn’t he write his exams by himself?
I asked him one time, and his response showed he just didn’t think he was smart enough to. You know what’s crazy? He was going for classes. He just didn’t think he could write and pass exams. He was also just in school to satisfy his parents.

On my own end sha, I was happy I could make extra money. He even tried to fly me down to help him write his final papers.

Ah
I thought about it. My mum saw I was worried, so she asked what was going on, and I told her. If you see her reaction. She was so shocked. She said if I went, the plane would crash, and I’d die. Omo.

Nigerian mother 101
LMAO. For NYSC, I was making ₦40k as an office assistant to add to NYSC’s ₦19,800 in Abuja. That was a good year. After NYSC, I went back to the school I’d graduated from to do a master’s in economics.

Why?
At that point, I’d decided I wanted to be a lecturer because I was good with academia. I’d always had outstanding grades in school, so it felt like that was the perfect career for me.

In December 2015, shortly before I rounded up my master’s, a friend introduced me to someone who lectured at a postgraduate institution in Lagos. During that meeting, we spoke about research projects we’d worked on, and he was impressed with what I was doing for my master’s final project. So he offered me an internship once I graduated.

Did you take it?
Yes. I interned as a research assistant with him from March to August. He paid me ₦50k monthly. In August, I officially began working at the postgraduate institution. The pay was ₦120k for the same research assistant role.

How long were you there for?
Eight months. Working there made me realise I didn’t want to be a lecturer anymore. I wanted good money.

Lecturers don’t make good money?
I didn’t know until I found out that senior lecturers at the postgraduate institution made like ₦400k.. And I knew young guys who were fresh out of uni getting corporate jobs that paid better. I didn’t want to work my whole life just to look for a side hustle in my 40s and 50s.

A conversation with a senior lecturer sealed the deal for me. He told me his brother, who worked at an oil company, had a gratuity of almost ₦1 billion waiting for him after retirement, but his own gratuity would be about ₦12 million.

Whoa
I applied and got an internship a friend told me about at a financial institution, and I resumed in October 2017. It was a three-month contract that paid ₦120k monthly. It was the same thing I earned as a research assistant, but at least it was a start to my non-lecturing career. If I did well, they’d hire me full-time.

Read full post: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/the-nairalife-of-the-efiko-who-ran-away-from-lecturing/

When did you start playing video games?
Omo, I’ve been gaming since primary school. I’m the last born, and I have two older brothers who had the PS1 and PS2 when they came out, so we were always playing games at home. There was Street Fighter, Pro Evolution Soccer, FIFA, Lord of the Rings, Wrestling and so much more.

Obviously, I started out chopping Ls from my brothers, but I got better as I grew older because I played a lot.

Let me guess: Your parents complained?
Ah, they did. I made sure I played every game until I was able to beat every difficulty level. So I started with the easiest and kept playing against the computer until I could defeat the most difficult level.

As you can imagine, it required a lot of playing, and my parents didn’t like it. In primary school, when exams were approaching, they seized the consoles so I could focus on reading. When I got into secondary school in 2008, they sent me to a boarding house, and sometimes seized the games when I was home on holiday because I wasn’t “socialising”.

I didn’t ask about your earliest memory of money
Throughout boarding school, I got ₦1,500 per month to spend at the tuck shop.

When did you start playing competitively?
2014. University —

Wait, what did you study?
Electrical and electronics engineering. I wanted to study computer science because I liked games and computers, but my dad thought engineering was broader and would give me more opportunities, so I studied that instead.

What I actually wanted to be was a footballer.

But…
There aren’t enough opportunities for young people who want to be footballers in Nigeria to make it. I played for my primary and secondary school, and played a lot of football in university. I even joined a semi-professional football team outside school to better my chances. But someone on the team tried to scam me because he thought I was an omo butter who just had money to give away. Like many other young Nigerian boys, the dream sha faded away gradually.

I feel you. Back to 2014
Many guys in university had games on their computers. I did too. Naturally, we started playing FIFA against one another, and it was obvious I was much better than most people. When you beat plenty people on FIFA, you become the person everyone who thinks they’re good wants to challenge, so I quickly became popular on campus. People from different hostels came to face me. I lost a few games, but nobody ever consistently beat me. If you beat me once, I’d beat you back multiple times.

During tradefairs, we did betting games. Everyone in a group of 16 people would drop ₦1k and the winner would take all. I won plenty times, and me and my guys just used the money to flex. That’s just how things were until I won my first ₦100k in 2018.

Tell me about it
May 26, 2018, the day of the Champions League final. I can never forget. There was a competition somewhere in Lekki that my friend told me about. It was free to register and the winner out of 64 people would get ₦100k. I was scared to register because I didn’t believe in myself like that, but my friend persuaded me.

The competition was played in knockout format: two people would face each other, the loser is out, and it keeps going like that until there are only two people left. I only had to play five games without losing. God, I was so happy when I won the money. For the first time, I considered myself world-class and decided I was going to play FIFA professionally.

Love it
I used the ₦100k to buy a PS4 so I could play better, and play online.

What about school?
I was on internship at an oil company during that period. The pay was ₦40k, the same amount as my monthly allowance in university, so it just felt normal.

That same year, I went for another competition in November. This one was more popular and had about 128 competitors who were all pro gamers. I paid ₦2k to register. I’m not making excuses o, but I know I didn’t play my best because of tension. I got knocked out at the round of 16.

You tried
LMAO, thanks. After I graduated in 2019, I went home, bought a router and started playing online so I could sharpen my skills. Then I heard about a company that organised gaming competitions and started going there. It was more competitive, so I didn’t win every time. I remember coming second at one big event, and I was interviewed by journalists, but there was no cash prize. I sha kept playing tournaments until I won a big one.

Which?
National qualifiers for an event in Côte d’Ivoire. I won to represent Nigeria.

Wow
[/b]Not just me sha. The second and third position from the competition also went to Côte d’Ivoire.

[b]Did it come with money?
Nah, just an all-expense-paid trip.

How was the competition?
There were about eight countries, and almost 200 players. Other countries brought more than three players. Côte d’Ivoire had more than all countries combined. I finished in the final eight — quarter-finals.

How did that feel?
I felt bad because I dominated the game I lost, but somehow, I still lost. I knew I deserved at least a semi-final spot. It was also reassuring to get that far in the competition. Remember that tension I felt when I played pro gamers in Nigeria? Everything disappeared. I returned to Nigeria and started winning competitions. That same year, I won ₦100k, ₦50k, another ₦100k, another ₦50k and $1k.

What did your parents think about your gaming career?
They didn’t know much about it because I didn’t want them to. You know Nigerian parents. Even when I went to Côte d’Ivoire, I didn’t give them too much detail. They knew I was travelling, but it was just, “Oh, hope the people you’re going with are trustworthy. Be safe o.” It was only in December 2021, when I won big money, that I told them.

No spoilers, please
LMAO. From January to September 2020, I worked as a support engineer at an IT company for ₦30k monthly because of NYSC. Also in January, some company reached out to some of the best players in Lagos for an invitational where they paid us ₦20k per game, as a thank you for accepting their invitation. I played three games and won the competition. The prize for winning was ₦50k, so I made a total of ₦90k. I added ₦90k to it and bought an iPhone in February.

Most of 2020 was just online competitions because of COVID. I won many of them, but also came second and third sometimes. Late 2020 though, an annual LG gaming competition that takes place across different Nigerian states was held, and I won the Lagos one. The prize was an LG TV worth about ₦700k. I sold it for ₦680k.

Love it
In 2021, LG did a grand finale with the winners from all the states in the 2020 competition. I came second and won ₦500k while the winner won ₦1.5 million. I used the money to buy a PS5. I also interned at a fintech for a few months. Pay was ₦80k monthly.

Then in November, I represented Nigeria in Israel for the World Esports Championships.

Ehn?
There’s a yearly world tournament organised by the International Esports Federation, but because there were no qualifier games, they didn’t have anyone to represent Nigeria. So they just reached out to me.

How did you do in that one?
It wasn’t straight to knockouts. They first put us in groups, and then, if you qualified from your group, you got to play in the knockouts. In a group of four people, only two could qualify. Well, I didn’t qualify from my group, but I don’t feel bad about it because the two people who qualified went on to be winner and runner-up of the entire tournament.

Ah!
I sha got to travel and meet new people, and that’s what matters.

LMAO
In December, there was another competition. People flew in from places like Abuja to Lagos to play. One guy, a proper pro, even came from Dubai, so you can imagine the tension in the air.

In the quarter-finals, I faced the guy who came from Dubai, and that was by far the toughest game of the competition. It took one tiny mistake for me to beat him. The other two people I faced weren’t as tough, so I won the competition.

How much?
₦5.4m.

This is the one you told your parents about?

Yep. My dad started calling me “big boy”. He didn’t believe. I sha gave him and my mum ₦100k each as a token for their love.
Did anything happen in 2022?

This year, I’ve won two ₦500k competitions and another LG TV, which I sold for about ₦300k.

How much have you made from FIFA in your life?

I don’t have a specific figure, but it should be at least ₦15m. Apart from the competitions, there are one-on-one betting matches I play. Recently, I won ₦2m in one sitting because someone came and said they wanted to bet ₦500k per game. I won all four games. Over the years, there have been countless ₦100k betting games too.

Have you ever lost a bet?
Just one game. It was online. I don’t like playing online because of lags, and I let the guy know. Like I predicted, network was bad and he beat me, so I just paid him his ₦20k and didn’t play further.

Any future plans?
I want to take my career to the next level. I’ve won in Nigeria so many times that when I show up at a competition, people say stuff like, “Oya, give him the money. He has already won.” Many excellent players in Nigeria challenge me, but I want to take things to the next level.

Recently, FIFA made Nigeria eligible for the FIFA Global Series (FGS), so I’m looking to qualify for it. If I do, my rank will go higher and I’ll eventually be eligible to play in official FIFA competitions. So I’ve bought 5G internet, and I’m grinding to get better. I also live stream my games.

Recently, many organisations have been working to make the gaming ecosystem in Nigeria much bigger and better. Some Google-backed companies organise competitions, and the cash prizes are getting bigger. So even though I’m trying to go global, it’s still a great time to be a gamer in Nigeria.

What’s one thing you want but can’t afford right now?
To move abroad, so I can participate in the FGS. Even though it’s coming to Nigeria, I know internet lags would probably happen because the closest FIFA server to us is in Spain. Being in Europe gives an advantage.

What are your finances like right now?
I have like ₦1.2m in savings, $200 in forex trading and $500 in crypto.

Where did the ₦5.4m go?
I don’t keep all the money I win o. I have to settle my guys. I probably keep about 60% of whatever money I win. But also, I’ve bought some stuff this year. I got a gaming chair for less than ₦100k, and I’m pretty sure I’ve spent nothing less than ₦500k partying and drinking this year.

What’s your financial happiness on a 1-10 scale?
It’s like 7. I have money I can use to get whatever I want at any point in time, and I don’t have to be in an office. I just make money playing FIFA. That’s amazing.

What if FIFA doesn’t work?
I’m sure it will, but I’m also learning how to program just so I have an extra skill.

https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/nairalife-this-24-year-old-makes-millions-playing-fifa/

After seven years, two children and a failed marriage, the 32-year-old subject of this week’s Naira Life returned to her parents’ home with just ₦500 to her name. How have things picked back up for her?

What’s your earliest memory of money?
Growing up in Kaduna, my parents never gave me and my siblings money for school. Whenever children went out to buy ice cream, I couldn’t because my parents just gave us food. I found it weird and assumed they were mean.

My next memory is when our names were called out during assembly, and we were sent home for defaulting on school fees. I was 7, and we’d moved to Abuja.

Why?
Insecurity in the north. When we moved, my dad didn’t have a job so my mum had to carry the family’s financial burden. She’d always had a shop where she sold provisions, but my dad being out of work meant she also hawked bananas and soft drinks.

Our names got called out during assembly a couple more times, and I tell you, it was too embarrassing. Imagine standing on the assembly line with your crush and someone shouts out your name for not paying school fees on time.

By the time I turned 9 in 1999, I went to boarding school, and that was the first time I ever got money from my parents. ₦100 at the beginning of the semester, and ₦100 every time they came to visit.

What could ₦100 do in 1999?
I never even wanted to spend it because I’d gotten used to not having money. I had provisions, so I took them instead of spending money at the tuck shop. I mainly spent the money on notebooks and random stuff like repairing my sandals. At the end of the term, I used the money to buy snacks to take back home and give my siblings. During those holidays, I hawked soft drinks for my mum.

I think what my parent did helped me remain content. Now, I don’t give my kids money to take to school. I just give them food.

What did you want to be as an adult?
A lawyer. My dad studied English and had a lot of books lying around the house, so I’d read John Grisham’s books, and I thought law was cool. I finished secondary school in 2005. I wrote JAMB in 2006 but got English at the University of Abuja. I didn’t want it.

The next year, I got in for law at Nasarawa State University, but the indigenes complained not many of them got in to study law, so they revoked admissions for some non-indigenes. Of course, I was among.

By 2008, I was ready to study anything to get out of the house. I got English again at the University of Abuja, so I just took it.

What did you do with the years you were home?
Babysitting. I’m the first born. After my immediate younger sister and me, my parents waited before they had more children. One was born in 2001, and the other, in 2004. Also, my parents discouraged skill acquisition. They thought the only path to wealth was to go to school, get a degree and get a job.

Tell me about uni
I didn’t like the course I studied, so I didn’t enjoy uni. I finished with a second-class lower division. But I sha made money.

How?
Let’s rewind to 2006. A neighbour, who was part of the Abuja Carnival planning committee, asked my father if he could invite me to work as an usher. After asking multiple questions, my dad finally let him take me along. I ushered for four days and made ₦40k. The same happened in 2007.

By 2008, they cut the budget and were looking to pay ₦15k so I stopped working for them. However, I’d made some connections, so people called me for ushering jobs that paid ₦10k for a few hours and ₦20k for a full day. I did that inconsistently throughout uni. My dad didn’t know about it sha. He wouldn’t have let me.

Omo
In February 2009, when I was in my second year, I decided to try selling stuff. I bought 15 male shirts at ₦1,800 each, to sell at ₦2,500. I could only sell two pieces. I eventually gave the rest out. That same year, I had a boyfriend who gave me the idea to sell underwear. I found someone who sold in packs, but when I broke it down, one piece was ₦200. I sold at ₦300. I marketed by wearing them myself and walking around the hostel.


At some point, I also sold shoes for my mum. She gave me the price she wanted to sell them for, and I added my markup. I returned the ones I couldn’t sell. I didn’t do any business in my third year because the hostel burnt down, and we had to move to another hostel. In my final year, I made up to ₦12k a week selling jewellery like earrings, rings and chains. Throughout uni, I also got ₦5k, sometimes ₦10k, a month from my dad.

Where was all this money going, please?
To my siblings. I wanted them to enjoy life so they didn’t see things like restaurant trips, food and money as a big deal when they eventually got into university. I had zero savings.

Interesting. What happened after uni?
I graduated in late 2011, and the plan was to serve, get a job and make money, just like my dad told me would happen. In 2012, I couldn’t go for NYSC because of a school strike. My department stopped processing graduates for NYSC to participate in the strike. Same thing happened in 2013, and because my parents didn’t understand what was happening, they began to question whether or not I actually graduated from school.

During the waiting period, I tried to learn tailoring, but my dad didn’t let me. Instead, in January 2013, I got a job as a project officer at an NGO that educated young adults. The pay was ₦20k per month. My dad dropped me off at work almost every day, so I saved all my salary. By September, I quit the job and took ₦100k out of my savings to learn tailoring. This time, I didn’t ask my dad. I was sponsoring myself so I just informed him.

How did that go?
I started learning tailoring in October 2013. Unfortunately, that same month, I met the man I would marry two months later.

I —
A family friend introduced me to him. He was 40, and I was 23. I liked him and thought I’d grow to love him when we got married. I’ll be honest, the only reason I decided to get married was because I was tired of how stagnant my life felt. My mates had served, gotten good jobs, and some were married. I just wanted something to move my life forward. If I’d been called up to serve, marriage wouldn’t have been on my mind.

What did your parents think about this?
My mum was excited her first daughter as getting married. No matter how many questions my dad raised, she had a point to argue against them. So we just moved on with it.

Why did you describe it as unfortunate?
Shortly after we got married, I found out he only married me because of his mum. He’s from Enugu. He was in love with a 32-year-old Imo woman, and his mum disapproved of her. She wanted him to marry from Enugu so she wouldn’t “lose access to him”. She also wanted him to marry a young, “inexperienced” lady. I checked both boxes.

How did you find this out?
He called his mum during our first fight and all the info came out. That’s how the cheating with his ex and emotional abuse started. Also, I stopped tailoring because the place I was learning was far from where I now stayed.

By February 2014, NYSC called me to serve. On my third day in camp, I began to bleed. I was pregnant and having a threatened miscarriage. I had to be on bed rest until I had my baby in November 2014. NYSC knew I was sick, so they let me come in only once a month for clearance.

Any plans for your career at this point?
Zero. I was just trying to stay alive. Every time I tried to apply for jobs I saw, or tell people I was looking for work, my ex-husband would shut me down and tell me not to worry. That he’d find work for me at CBN ot FIRS.

May 2015, when my baby was six months old, I moved back to my parents’ place because we kept fighting. Every time, he’d say, “I’ll kick you out of my house.” This time, I took my baby and left.

When I got there, my dad asked what I wanted. I said I wanted to go back to school. Most schools had closed application for master’s, so we decided I would start preparing for JAMB again so I could study law. I really wanted to study law.

How did that go?
My ex-husband came back with his family to beg that he’d turned a new leaf. My dad wasn’t having it, but again, my mum begged me to go back and try to make things work. “What would people say if they saw you at home?”

I returned in July 2015. By August, I was pregnant again.

Source: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/the-nairalife-of-a-32-year-old-divorcee-with-unpursued-dreams/

After working at his mum’s bukka and motel for free almost all his life, and having to fend for a child at 22, the 27-year-old on this #NairaLife wants to make more money by going into tech…right after he’s done being a driver.

Let’s start with your earliest memory of money
I turned eight in primary 3 and as young as I was, I knew we were poor because I’d been sent out of school because of fees. At some point, my dad took me out of private school and put me in public school because he couldn’t keep up with the fees.

For secondary school in 2006, my mum put me in a private school that collected about ₦20k per term, and my dad had a problem with it. He thought they could’ve been using the money for something else. This was one of the many fights that eventually led to their divorce in 2006.

Ouch. What did your parents do for a living?
My dad was a carpenter, and my mum owned a bukka close to my school. Because of my mum’s bukka, we always had food.

After the divorce, my mum moved close to her bukka, and my older sister, younger brother and I moved with her. One of my older sisters stayed with my dad, while the first born stayed with my aunt, where she’d been for years.

Why was she there?
To be honest, I don’t know. She was there from primary school till she finished university.

By the time I got to JSS 3, my mum withdrew me from private school and put me in public school.

Why?
Money. I relate so much to the Naira Life subject whose dad was obsessed with building. My mum was making good money from the bukka, but you’d think we were poor. She always wanted to build. We only got new clothes at the end of the year and ate food from the bukka. All our free time after school and during holidays was spent working at the bukka because she was trying to cut costs on hiring employees. Sometimes, we even slept there.

But she had enough money to build houses for rent, and eventually, a motel in 2014.

When did you finish secondary school?
2011. I didn’t make all my WAEC papers, so I spent the next year doing a computer training program. I also worked at the bukka, running errands, making coleslaw, and sometimes, standing and serving for hours. In the course of that year, I heard someone talking about a part-time National Diploma (ND) program, and I was interested, so I registered for it. My mum gave me the money because she liked that it was part-time. It meant I could work at the bukka when I wasn’t in school.

Did you get paid for the work?
Never. My mum always said she assumed we were taking money from her business somehow, so there was no need for her to pay us.

Were you?
If I could bargain well at the market, I kept the change. From that, I could make up to ₦5k on a good month. Other than that, I wasn’t taking any money.

And that’s all the money you were making?
Well, I sold recharge cards for like one month in 2012. I used the ₦5k I had gathered that month as capital. But at some point, I had to go to school, so I left the recharge cards with one of my mum’s employees. When I came back, she’d made a loss and didn’t know how.

I also made some money designing. In my computer training school, I’d learnt how to use Corel Draw and some Photoshop. I started going to cyber cafes a lot to use the internet for news and entertainment. In 2013, I met a man there who was into fraud. When he learnt I knew how to design, he contracted me to help him edit the figures on cheques for ₦2k each. This went on inconsistently for about a year.

After some time, I decided I wanted to do my own fraud, so I asked him to teach me. He refused, but because I’d watched him enough, I tried on my own. I sha got one woman to send me $150 via Western Union. That was like ₦20k, but if you see the guilt that held me after? I gave my girlfriend ₦5k and used ₦15k to buy a bicycle. After that, no more internet fraud for me. It was just school, bukka and my mum’s motel.

What did you do at the motel?
When it opened in 2014, nothing. She hired someone to be in charge of drinks and lodgings, but he ran away with the money. By 2015, I was done with my ND, so she assigned me to work there. My job was to sell drinks at the bar and lodge customers. On nights when she wasn’t around, I kept the money to myself.

I’m curious if you still had a relationship with your dad
Yes. My mum allowed me visit him but was always bitter and moody whenever I got back.

What was your plan for after ND?
I wanted to move out and be on my own because I was tired of working for my mum. If I could’ve got like ₦150k, I’d have moved into a cheap apartment and maybe found cyber cafe work. At least, I had an ND in computer science. But plans scattered when my girlfriend got pregnant.

Omo
Her parents didn’t want people in the area to know she was pregnant, so she had to come and live with my family. Of course, my own mum scolded me, but that was it. She accepted her living with us.

A baby was on the way. How did it change things for you?
January 2016, I created a CV and went to a school behind the motel near where we lived, and applied to be a teacher. I got the job as the primary 4 class teacher. The pay was ₦11k monthly. After some time, they made me the primary 3 class teacher too and added ₦5k to the salary. I also taught the entire school computer appreciation for an extra ₦1k monthly. In my last month, I became a school bus driver, but I didn’t get paid because I got the bus stuck in mud.

By the time I was leaving in July 2016, my salary was ₦17k.

Why did you leave after just six months?
I had to run away from the area because of oil bunkering in the area. Apparently, the boys who did the oil bunkering also kidnapped people, and they were regular customers of my mum’s motel. We didn’t know. One night, SARS came to the motel to arrest them and, in the resulting wahala, shot and killed one of them. They also arrested my mum. The next day, more of the boys came to vandalise and rob the motel because they thought it was my mum who snitched on them. When that happened, people advised me and my siblings to leave the area because it wasn’t safe.

Where did you go?
My girlfriend and son had to go back home for about three months while I looked for a place to stay. I eventually got a self-con for free. It was owned by my dad’s family.

My dad was super helpful in the period when I had a child and needed stability. He gave me money before and even after I got another job, and occasionally brought food.

When did you get another job?
Late 2016. First, I got a tomato paste processing factory job that paid ₦800 daily. Then I was a security guard at a restaurant. ₦15k. But I had to stand for eight hours a day. It was two days on, two days off. So whenever I wasn’t at the restaurant, I was working at the tomato paste processing factory. And when I wasn’t at the tomato paste place, I sold peanuts on the road. This brought me a total monthly income of about ₦20k.

That’s how we survived until March 2017.

What happened in March 2017?
I found a job opening for a driver of a fintech exec. on Nairaland and got the job. ₦40k monthly. That was a huge raise for me. I could now afford a bit more to take care of my girlfriend and son. I also did odd jobs like washing cars and buying food for people at the office. In October 2017, my boss’ wife was going abroad to have a baby so he didn’t need two drivers anymore. Then he asked that we changed the payment model to a pay-per-days worked model since he wouldn’t be needing me every day anymore. I didn’t want that, so I just left.

I went back to Nairaland to look for jobs, and saw that people were looking to rent out their cars for ride-hailing services. It took me two months, but I eventually found someone who gave me their car for ₦35k a week. I did the fuelling, he did the fixing.

How much were you making?
Like ₦70k a week. ₦35k to the guy and ₦18k for fuel. The money coming to me in a month was sha between ₦60k and ₦70k. Better than my previous job. But because I’ve always been the only one working, all my money goes to the family.

I started discovering how to make more money by staying in certain areas and moving at rush hour. My monthly income eventually increased to about ₦120k. My son was already going to school, so that was extra money for fees and snacks.

In 2019, I decided to get my own car. It cost ₦3m, and I had to pay ₦40k every week while I started using the car. I was on track until lockdown in 2020 when I couldn’t pay for three weeks straight. I’d paid ₦1.3m, but they collected the car because it was agreed in our contract if I defaulted payment for that long, they would. To get the car back, I reached an agreement with them to pay ₦1m to buy the car off for a total of ₦2.3m.

Source: https://www.zikoko.com/money/naira-life/the-nairalife-of-the-27-year-old-driver-trying-to-get-into-tech/

In many Nigerian homes, chances are there are at least 2 passionate football fans. There aren’t many things that hold similar levels of reverence and following as football does in Nigeria. Nigerians are quite simply crazy about the sport. And nowhere is this passion as prevalent as in a World Cup year.

The very nature of football competitions such as the World Cup, the Olympics, or AFCON is national coalescence. Not only do they stand out as the most prominent football tournaments in the world, they also rank as the only competitions that can manage to bring a sense of unity in an otherwise mostly-torn, extremely diverse nation. Cheering on the national team, nothing else matters but the common enemy that is the opposition team and the country they represent.

It matters little where you’re watching the match from or what your political, tribal or religious inclinations are. Once that kick-off whistle goes, your passion joins forces with other Nigerians, creating a 100-million strong band of a national frenzy.

While the frenzy surrounding football competitions remains the same, the manner in which Nigerians are experiencing the game is evolving. Technology has become an integral way fans consume sports. In a 2020 Capgemini Research Institute report, nearly 70% of the 10,000 sports fans interviewed say that emerging technologies have enhanced their overall viewing experience, both inside and outside the stadium.

If emerging technologies are undeniably the future of sports—and research forecasts that 80% of organisations expect to compete mainly based on customer experience over the next three years—then Nigerian tech companies are rightly building at the intersection of these factors, tapping into digital technology to strengthen fan engagement.

One of such companies pioneering the sport-tech industry is LVM, with its flagship product lovefootball.ng, a fantasy football platform where soccer fans get to stay updated, socialise and compete for amazing rewards. Fans’ rapid adoption of this and other sporting platforms like LiveScore, SportyBet and Goal.com is a testament to the burgeoning fanbases that exist in and out of the stadium.

With football tournaments like the Olympics, the World Cup or AFCON happening this year, fans’ desire for real-time data and analytics rise as a result of genuine interest in the games they like. Technology can be utilised to deliver more info to fans while watching games. Scoreboards, real-time statistics, data visualisation, and the option to wager in and out of the stadium can be used to elevate the experience to new heights, maintaining and growing fan engagement.

In the sports industry also, augmented reality (AR) and virtual reality (VR) are rapidly being used to offer new experiences for audiences, allowing spectators at home to feel like they are seated in the front row. Interactive activities can also place a fan on the pitch during a game as a virtual participant.

Not only is technology able to improve fans’ experience, it is also used to improve the players’ experience of the game as well as their performances. From the tiniest modifications in action to weight distribution, AI and data science can be employed to assist players in making the progressive gains that allow them to reach the pinnacle of their game.

Technology is also revolutionising the business of sport and the ways sports teams are funded and managed. Sporting Lagos, the brainchild of Paystack co-founder, Shola Akinlade, is one of the local football clubs introducing a 360-experience in football management. Godwin Enarkhena, the team’s technical director says Sporting Lagos is a football club that will introduce innovations to the matchday experience.

“This is a new baby that is here to change the narrative. We have software engineer, Akinlade, as our motivator, with a tested businessman, Uzo Okonkwo as our general manager. Sporting Lagos FC was conceived because we want to employ our knowledge to create a 360-degree experience in football management. We want to create a family-oriented club, which will offer more than just football to fans,” Enarkhena told The Guardian.

Sporting Lagos’ unique mode of recruiting founding members via Twitter and crowdfunding operations brings another dimension to the possibilities sports businesses can tap into by leveraging technology to engage fans and involve them a little more in the experience of the club. Founding members in this case enjoy perks such as match tickets, team jerseys and the opportunity to have a say in club decisions.

The implications of technology in sport are not limited to a holistic experience for sports fans and players, but also extend to the entire value chain of football, and sports at large. Forty-nine percent of the people interviewed for a Capgemini report said they have often increased their spending on team/brand merchandise following a good experience, and 42% have increased this spending a few times. International tech businesses like Fanatics, Socios, and Sorare have gathered a lot of interest and raised a lot of money to address the gaps in fan engagement by allowing fans to digitally purchase merchandise, own fan tokens that give them voting rights on club decisions and trade digital tokens representing their favourite players and teams.

Hypothetically, let us imagine Nigeria were to book a place in the World Cup finals later this year, and perhaps goes on to win the tournament. The celebrations would be something to behold. The ripple effect of such would be felt in all aspects of the economy. Alcohol and beverage companies like Guinness, Nigerian Breweries and ABinbev will see a surge in sales as drinks are consumed in merriment. Mobile network providers also make a killing as more and more fans purchase internet bundles to keep up with the games.

Fabric and clothing companies would also capitalise on this, stamping Nigeria-themed colours across all clothing types. There would be lace and Ankara materials cut out of similar visual designs to the national team’s jerseys, and these materials would be massive hits with buyers. Manufacturers of sports jerseys use reactive supply chain strategies. In such situations, when a team moves to the next round of competition, more jerseys are needed. However, demand is expected to surge with the influence of technology, as vendors gain visibility on social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok that leverage visuals for advertising and sales of sports merchandise.

Speaking of social media, another tech-enabled sports value chain is new media. In the sports sector, social media has become a driving factor controlling the narrative. Teams and players give serious attention to expanding their internet presence by creating and marketing team-specific content to remain in touch with supporters before, during, and after games in competitions like the World Cup and English Premier League. Reddit, Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram are all excellent sites for streaming video highlights of your team’s games, either before or after an event. In fact, among younger audiences below the age of 25 years, it has been gathered that they prefer to watch highlights and clips online via social media than to watch the entire game on television or at the stadium.

Since the beginning of 2017, social media posts by the top-5 US sports leagues have generated 16.7 billion interactions, according to MVPIndex. Making captivating recordings from field level viewpoints, which are unavailable to television viewers, may increase engagement by making supporters at home be equally immersed in the game. As of 2018, 30% of fans watched live on their phones or tablets, so it is a no-brainer to target this audience.

Organisations looking to adopt and maximise modern technology in sports should concentrate on 4 areas:

To develop trust, be open with fans about how their personal data is used.

Before introducing new products, determine the needs and expectations of fans and users.

Convert passive followers into enthusiastic supporters as fans that follow a sport on a regular basis, watch virtually all of the sport’s matches, and attend games often present a major potential.

By investing in digital culture and skills, as well as creating a bridge for information across sports organisations to generate more innovation, you may create digital strategies, competencies, and improve corporate culture.

Fans of sports are fervent and curious. They want to have everything there is to know about their beloved team at the tip of their fingers, and handing them a programme with all of the players’ jersey numbers no longer cuts it. As a result, it’s logical for sports teams and other organisations in the business of sports to engage with supporters using platforms that they have become familiar with. So that, as the way in which modern fans interact with sports evolves, so would the way in which sports organisations interact with these supporters.

Businesses interested in tapping into the excitement of these burgeoning fanbases while leveraging technology should work with a trusted specialist who understands both the sport and the technology needed to improve customer engagement to get the most out of this technological progression. Whether Nigerians are watching the World Cup at home or at the stadium, innovative technological solutions will boost their enjoyment and engagement. There’s definitely something there for businesses to leverage on.

Source

Buy now pay later (BNPL)—a short-term consumer financing that allows shoppers to purchase products online and pay in instalments with nominal or no fees—is sweeping the global e-commerce sector. Afterpay, Klarna, Affirm, and Zip are some of the players leading this charge while tech and payments giants Apple, Square, PayPal, and Visa have their respective BNPL initiatives as they look to get a slice of the action.

In Africa, BNPL activity is beginning to take shape and one of the pioneers in this space, CredPal, on Tuesday announced that it’s raised $15 million in a bridge round comprising equity and debt. This will be used to expand its consumer credit offerings in its home country, Nigeria, and scale across Africa.

Launched in 2018 by CEO Fehintolu Olaogun and COO Olorunfemi Jegede, Y Combinator- and Google-backed CredPal allows individuals and businesses to pay for purchases in instalments across online and offline merchants, for both large and small-ticket items—from as low as ₦2,000 up to ₦5 million. CredPal claims to have over 85,000 active customers and more than 4,000 active merchants.

In addition to providing infrastructure that allows banks and other financial institutions to deliver consumer credit in real-time, CredPal offers its customers access to credit cards, which was launched in November 2020.

“What we’ve done is encapsulate the lifestyle of the average working-class Nigerian and ensure that every person can find something specifically for them on CredPal,” Olaogun said in a recent interview. “For instance, a professional who earns ₦250,000 can get a credit card with a limit that they can pay back at the end of their billing cycle or use it to buy now and pay later.”

With the new funding, the startup plans to extend partnerships with merchants through its recently deployed CredPal Pay, an omnichannel merchant suite that allows businesses seamlessly accept buy now, pay later. The point-of-sale infrastructure enables BNPL through various means, including a credit payment link, checkout plugin, QR codes, and a transaction management system.

“Our commitment to better credit facilities for African consumers and helping sellers grow their sales is getting a huge boost with these latest milestones,” Olaogun says in a statement.

The latest funding brings the total investment secured by CredPal to $16.7 million, per Crunchbase data, having previously raised $1.5 million in 2020, part of which was used to roll out its credit cards.

Participating in this bridge round are existing investors, including Greenhouse Capital (which is also an investor in Kenya’s BNPL startup Lipa Later), as well as new backers including Uncovered Fund, LongCommerce, First Circle Capital, and Adii Pienaar, co-founder and former CEO of WooCommerce.

Credit Direct Limited, a subsidiary of First City Monument Bank (FCMB), provided the debt facility along with a few other financial institutions.

The funding announcement coincides with a new partnership with Airtel Nigeria to enable consumers across Nigeria to access BNPL to own smartphones and broadband modems, CredPal says, without sharing specific details about the deal.

The fresh investment will also support the startup’s planned expansion across Africa, starting with Kenya, Egypt, Ghana, and Cameroon, the company said.

With the bulk of African consumers severely starved of efficient and sustainable credit solutions, the BNPL movement is waxing strong across the continent and so is the competition among players.

Lipa Later is one of the early companies in the space in Kenya and there is M-Kopa—which has since expanded into phones and retail products—in Kenya, Uganda, and Nigeria. CDCare, PayQart, and Carbon also play in Nigeria. And in South Africa, there are PayJustNow and Payflex. The latter was recently acquired by Australian BNPL Zip.

While competition appears to be heating up, there is a significantly large market of consumers and merchants to be tapped. But success will largely be determined by how effectively players can drive the adoption and use of credit financing and cards by African consumers.

Source

Read more African fintech stories here

It’s no longer news that COVID-19 has reshaped the way we work. In many ways, experts have projected that this state of affairs will continue long after the pandemic is gone. Both local and international companies are either going fully remote or hybrid in their mode of work. Automation is now king, and the line between work and personal life is now blurred. But how can managers and founders motivate their teams for great performance in this blurry era?

To answer this question, Daniel Adeyemi, Senior Reporter at TechCabal, spoke with Elizabeth Tweedale, founder and CEO at Cypher Coders, one of the leading coding schools for kids in the UK, on the 6th episode of Building From Ground Up, Season 2, by the UK-Nigeria Tech Hub.

Tweedale is a computer scientist and architect and has worked as a computational design specialist at several top UK architecture firms where she, among many great projects, worked on the beautiful Apple campus. Prior to founding Cypher Coders, she co-founded an AI startup GoSpace in 2014 and currently serves as its Chief Innovation Officer.

In 2016, as a mother of 3 and an advocate of teaching people, especially kids, how to build software solutions, she founded the coding school that would quickly become the UK’s leading coding school for kids. As an edtech startup, Cypher Coders thrived on a brick-and-mortar work culture, where employees show up at their London central office. But when the pandemic hit, the startup was forced to operate remotely. And now that the world is gradually opening back up, it’s maintaining a hybrid approach to work. But how did Tweedale keep the team’s spirit going?

Find the best people and hire them
For Tweedale, finding qualified people that are self-motivated in their own right is the beginning of building a great team that can function well without your supervision. You can’t motivate people who are naturally numb to motivation; watch out for how they align with the vision of your business from the recruitment stage. Do they buy into it or not?

Find the best people for the job and hire them. This thinking directs how Tweedale recruits.

“Our COO used to work in an accelerator as a business coach where she taught over 300 entrepreneurs, of which I was one of them. She was so good that I had to steal her for Cypher,” Tweedale said.

Ask your team what motivates them
Human beings are complex and intelligent, and can be surprisingly clueless at the same time. So, it takes time and patience to fully have a grasp of someone’s personality, but because there is not always liberty of time in a startup, founders or managers must learn to ask their employees or team members what motivates them.

“I ask my team what motivates them. And I can see how effective that one-on-one conversation has helped to boost performance across metrics,” she said.

What motivates people are different and as a manager or founder, it helps to find how your team members are different because that will help you be flexible in the way you manage them without losing your managerial standard and that of the business.

Clear communication
Lack of proper communication is capable of not just leaving employees unmotivated—because they don’t understand what’s to be done anyways. Tweedale said that every necessary communication must be explicitly executed.

“We communicate the value of the business to the new employees and reiterate it to the existing one in clear words. We can’t afford for people to start doing guesswork.”

Tweedale mentioned that companies must clearly state their growth trajectories with new hires—tell their stories from where they are coming from, where they are, and where they are going, and what each employee or team must contribute.

Allow them time off
According to Twedeele, the pandemic has already blurred how we work and employees are struggling with work-life balance. And the best way a company can help them find it is to create room for breaks.

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” is one of the oldest sayings that legitimises the importance of taking a break to relax or unwind. Tweedale said her company takes employees on retreats and offsite team bonding, where all employees come together in one city to have fun.

Going on retreats has worked for Tweedale and her team. The team catching up and bonding on something other work is one benefit, the founder or manager using the opportunity to sneak in a motivational speech is another. She advises leaders to find what works for their team.

Source

Kaduna State is currently one of the hotbeds of violence and bloodshed in Nigeria. Government records show that terrorists killed 1,192 people in dozens of attacks in 2021. They also kidnapped 3,348 people for ransom. The government finally declared bandits as terrorists in January 2022, but they’re still called “bandits” by a large section of the Nigerian media.

Days ago, Kaduna State made news headlines again following a new attack.

What happened?
On March 26th 2022, a group of terrorists attacked a runway of the Kaduna International Airport. Eyewitnesses reported there were as many as 200 terrorists on motorbikes but this was not confirmed by authorities.

The attack prevented a scheduled Azman Air flight from taking off as a security precaution.

How did the attack end?
The Federal Airports Authority of Nigeria (FAAN) said in a statement that a combined team of security operatives confronted the terrorists and restored order. The team recovered two motorbikes abandoned by the terrorists.

The terrorists killed one person. The deceased was a security watchman for the Nigerian Airspace Management Agency (NAMA).

There’s a fake video of the attack online
Since the attack, a video has been circulating online claiming to show the terrorists riding dozens of motorcycles on a runway. The video has been fact-checked and discovered to be false. That clip was shot in Sokoto and had nothing to do with any attack.

It’s not the first attack on the airport
The Kaduna International Airport has become a usual target for terrorists as insecurity escalates in Kaduna State.

On March 6th 2021, terrorists gained access to FAAN staff quarters on the airport premises and kidnapped 10 people. Nigerian military troops rescued the victims two weeks later. The government didn’t clarify if any terrorists responsible for the abduction were arrested or killed during the rescue operation.

There was another attack on the staff quarters on March 14th 2021 that was thwarted by security operatives, and yet another one around the same airport on March 19th 2021 that was also foiled by security operatives.

What’s the government saying about the latest attack?
The governor of Kaduna, Nasir El-Rufai, has condemned the attack and praised the security forces for their prompt response. He also sent condolences to the family of the victim.

There’s been no word from the President Buhari-led Federal Government.

Source

The weather is crazy hot right now, and my naturalistas are going through it. If you have natural hair, we’re certain that you can relate to the heat-related hair struggles we mentioned below.

Extremely dry hair
If there’s one thing that can make naturalistas break down and shed premium tears, it’s dry hair. This is because dry hair means loss of hair moisture, which can cause brittleness and hair breakage. This is why our natural girls are the ones cursing this heat the most.

Sweaty scalp
This heat can make people sweat in various places, including the scalp. For naturalistas, this is a nightmare. Apart from going through the stress of washing your hair every two days due to the sweat and dirt that have gathered there, you’re also dealing with dandruff and an itchy scalp. Have women not been through enough already?

Tangling
Leave your hair for two seconds and it will get tangled. Then you find yourself using detanglers and conditioners to fight the battle that is detangling your hair.

Protective styling
You can’t even enjoy your natural hair in its full glory in this weather. Every other week, you’re doing one protective style or the other. And if you’re doing braids as a protective style, you almost want to cry because who wants braids on their head during this heatwave?

Hair shedding
This is not common, but it does happen to quite a number of people with natural hair. You’ll be sitting down, minding your business, and you’ll just notice your hair falling off. Or you’ll randomly play with your hair, and as you remove your hand, a bit of your hair will go with it. Omo!

Source

Bitcoin is money, a legitimate currency for transactions.

There, I said it. And by the end of this piece, you won’t fret much about discussing this idea with friends and family.

This is not a campaign; it’s a recognition of reality. Money is whatever medium people agree to use to exchange value. As long as this medium can be used by both parties to account fairly for their exchange – if nobody is playing a fast one on the other – it’s legit.

Bitcoin is part of a family of thousands of cryptocurrencies including Bitcoin Cash, Ether and Litecoin. The “crypto” in the term gives off cyberhacking vibes, of some dark-web nefariousness. But the word’s Greek ancestor “kruptos” simply means “hidden.”

Cryptocurrencies are created with computer code, and as such are called digital or virtual currencies. The code is encrypted to prevent counterfeiting and make it transferable across geographies.

How does this work?

Blockchain technology is the subject of a separate piece, but what a user needs to know is that no central authority controls its flow. Every cryptocurrency has a decentralised ledger that records each transaction.

Before setting up your Bitcoin wallet, a caveat. Bitcoin has two problems that make it somewhat less desirable than regular money.

One, it has a finite supply because the currency’s source code imposes a limit on how much Bitcoin can be mined. Secondly, the decentralised nature means it is not under government control, making it a favour currency for malicious actors.

Also, it’s digital only. You can’t squeeze it into an offering box. That’s not a problem, is it?

Crash course over. Now, let’s set up an account and start transacting.

Select a wallet
You know how a wallet is needed for cash? Same applies to cryptocurrencies. So the first thing to do – after understanding how Bitcoin works – is to decide on which wallet to use.

There are a number of options for Africans: BuyCoins, Bitsika, Quidax, Luno, Bundle, YellowCard, LocalBitcoin. And more.

We’ve written a bit about BuyCoins before but the focus was on Sendcash, a product that facilitates Bitcoin-to-naira transfers across borders. BuyCoins has unveiled the feature in Ghana this week as more Africans latch on to the digital currency ride.

There’s no art to selecting any of these apps, so you should go with whichever feels familiar to your senses.

Download and sign up
After downloading Bitsika, you can “Continue with Google” to sign up using your Gmail address. A username is required and four-digit PIN is all it takes to create a wallet. You can do this in two minutes, but additional details are required to verify your identity.

Luno’s first page after downloading the app displays the current Bitcoin price in your local currency, with tabs for other currencies. You get the option of exploring the app before deciding whether or not to sign up for a wallet, which is cool. A Gmail or Facebook account can be used to set up an account.

Quidax says it’s “Beginner friendly” with round-the-clock support available, then requests your phone number. Bundle asks for your phone number on its first page but setup is pretty seamless.

BTC Pay. It’s got some press this week after the Feminist Coalition, a women’s group in Nigeria at the forefront of the #EndSARS movement started using it to receive donations.

Generally, signing up for a basic wallet Bitcoin requires a mix of these: a username, phone number and email address.

Fund wallet
Depending on the app, you can fund a Bitcoin wallet through bank transfer, credit/debit card, or mobile money.

Bitsika offers all three, Bundle has just card and bank transfer (perhaps because it is still new and based in Nigeria where mobile money isn’t such a big deal).

I don’t know if this applies across the board but funding a Bitcoin wallet takes more time than usual bank transfers or wallet funding activities on, say, Piggyvest.

For example, it takes up to 15 minutes for a card transfer on Bundle and up to an hour for a bank transfer. Both transfer modes incur transaction fees: 1.5% and NGN 150 respectively.

On BuyCoins, deposit is by bank transfer and it’s free.

Follow the app’s instruction to add a bank account, and select an amount to transfer to the wallet. The transfer is stored as a local currency or US dollar (if the wallet accepts dollars) token on the wallet.

Buying and selling
With the token in your wallet, you can buy Bitcoin. At the time of writing, the exchange rate stands at 1 BTC for ₦5.3million ( ~ $13,970 at the Central bank of Nigeria rate).

When you’ve got to this point, selling and sending Bitcoin to other people becomes rather straightforward. You’ll be sending the BTC to a wallet address, the equivalent of an account number.

But depending on the app, there may be an extra level of verification required to send cryptocurrency.

BuyCoins requires identity verification and has a guide for sending cryptocurrency on their app.

Bitcoin transactions are facilitated by processors like BTC Pay. It’s got some press this week after the Feminist Coalition, a women’s group in Nigeria at the forefront of the #EndSARS movement started using it to receive donations.

As with any digital product, it’d be wise to familiarize yourself with whichever app you opt for before undertaking transactions.

Source

If there’s anything recent conversations surrounding work culture in Nigeria has shown us, it’s that navigating and surviving a toxic workplace requires a lot of hard work. But what happens when you finally move on to greener pastures and a work culture that respects you as a human being? In this article, six Nigerians break down how they adjusted to their new work environment, and what they had to unlearn after leaving toxic workspaces that drained them physically and emotionally.

1. “I had never worked in an office where salaries had a set date”

— Uchenna

My former boss was a financial and emotional tyrant. The first red flag I convinced myself was pink was when he asked me to start work without a contract. Two months into the job, I realised I got paid whenever he felt like paying his workers. My salary might come at the end of the month, middle or even the start. It made it very difficult to plan around my salary, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, he would post Instagram stories of him popping bottles in the club even though he was owing me my salary. I remember leaving after a year of suffering and poverty.

At my new job, the contract had a salary date and honestly, I just thought they were fucking around. So imagine my surprise when my salary showed up first thing on the 28th of my first month. I almost ran mad. Based on my last experience, I just assumed salaries were based on vibes and inshallah. I was so used to not knowing when my salary would come, that I found it hard to spend money or live my life. I had to unlearn this fear and breathe easy because I finally had a structure where I could save and make plans.

2. “I’m finally in a work environment where I can speak up without fear of being fired”

— Kiitan

The CEO at my old job came in and turned our work culture into one built on fear and silence. Before he was hired, my co-workers and I were all very friendly and supportive of one another, but I’m not even joking when I say this guy came in and we all turned on one another. He would yell and force his ideas and opinions on the rest of us. It was so bad that I eventually pushed back at a meeting once, and he asked that my contract be terminated.

The first thing I noticed at my new job was how everyone communicated in such an open and transparent way. There is public acknowledgment and reward for work done, and I don’t feel the toxicity of people calling me names or trying to pull me down. I’ve also had to unlearn the need to work on my own. I was used to handling tasks all by myself, but now I understand the concept of delegation. I don’t have to carry everything on my head.

3. “I’ve had to unlearn how I communicate with my co-workers.”

— Faridah

At my old job, the CEO’s wife ran things. She worked in the company too, and it was a case of “it’s my husband’s company, so I can do anything I like”.

She made working there a horrible experience, and no one could challenge her. But the weird plot twist? Well, I found out her husband was the one asking her to say these things. He wanted to maintain his “good guy” personality, so he used her to pass his message across since she already had a fearless personality.

The best part about my new job is the fact that there’s friendship here. There’s a sense of community, and the people here are kind and thoughtful. I also had to unlearn how I communicate with my co-workers. I used to speak with the fear of being shouted at or unnecessarily scolded like a child. Now I can talk freely and my opinion is encouraged.

4. “My former co-worker was hooked to a hospital drip and still working”

— Chacha

My old boss masqueraded as a woke guy, but deep down, he was the most toxic person I ever worked with. He made me and the other interns in our organisation work for more than a year without public holidays, leave or salary reviews. Mind you, we were supposed to only work as interns for three months. There was the time my co-worker asked for permission to go to a wedding, only for the office to force her to work on her laptop at that wedding while everyone else was doing owambe. The place was so toxic it filtered into our WhatsApp platform where my boss was always dragging people.

My new job is different. I remember asking our account officer if I’d be getting my full salary since I was on probation. She laughed and asked if I thought they were monsters. Then there was the time I fell ill and HR asked me to take all the time I needed. Coming from an organisation where someone once worked even though they were hooked to a hospital drip, all of this was surprising to me. I finally realised that the way I was treated at my old job was wrong and they were not invested in my physical or career growth.

5. “I don’t feel guilty about putting my health first anymore”

— IK

The company culture at my old workplace revolved around our CEO’s mood. One day we’re wearing t-shirts and jeans, and the next day they’re asking all of us to dress corporate. He also had a habit of sacking people by just deleting their emails and removing them from Slack. He was doing all of this but still maintaining a “you can tell me anything, I’m young like you” energy. He saw himself as this saviour we should all look up to. Working there really affected my self-esteem even though I was getting therapy.

At my new job, even though we have a structural hierarchy, everyone is equal. It doesn’t feel like this person is that other person’s boss, it just feels like they’re in a particular role to contribute to the overall company. I’m also learning that I don’t have to overcompensate at work. If I’m not feeling good, I can take a break, and it’s fine. I don’t have to feel guilty because I’m putting my health first.

6. “I’ve regained the confidence my old job stole from me”

— Tejiro

My old job hired me as a programmes assistant, but I got there and started taking the responsibilities of a programmes officer. I was hired to support the programme officer, but here I was basically serving as the team lead. I kept telling myself it was a learning experience, but they would belittle and silence me in meetings. My boss would come in, and I’d have to get him coffee or food. I was babying a full-grown adult. It took a lot from me and my confidence because I started doubting if it’d ever get better than this. It was really bad.

I joined my new job and was still trapped in that feeling where I saw myself as less. It has taken a while, but now It feels good to be working in a space where I have a voice. I’m learning that I don’t have to always wait for validation because the people I work with trust my work. I listen to some people’s stories now and I’m like, “Damn, that used to be me”.

Source

Google has announced that Equiano, a subsea internet cable running through Portugal to South Africa, will first land in Togo. Equiano is expected to land in South Africa, Namibia, Nigeria and St Helena later in the year, connecting the continent with Europe.

This announcement marks a milestone in Google’s plan to provide affordable internet access in Africa by building global infrastructure to help bring faster internet to more people and lower connectivity costs. Last October, Google CEO Sundar Pichai announced a plan to invest $1billion over 5 years to support digital transformation in Africa, of which project Equiano is part of.

For Togo which currently ranks as the sixth-best country in Africa regarding ease of doing business, the landing of Equiano opens up more possibilities and opportunities. It’s expected that once connected to Equiano, it will provide 20 times more bandwidth than any other cable currently serving West Africa, helping Togo attract even more investments and further boosting its vibrant startup culture.

“Broadening the access to high-speed internet is a fundamental part in our national digital development process as we strive towards achieving the objectives set out in our Digital 2025 Strategy,” Cina Lawson, Minister of Digital Economy and Digital Transformation for Togo said.

According to an economic impact assessment of Equiano in Togo from Africa Practice and Genesis Analytics, it is estimated that the subsea cable will add approximately 37,000 new jobs between 2022 and 2025, and increase Togo’s economic output by an additional USD 351 million during the same period.

Nitin Gajria, Managing Director of Google Sub-Saharan Africa commented, “The landing of Equiano affirms Google’s commitment to the African continent, to support Africa’s digital transformation. We are thrilled that Togo will be Equiano’s first landing on the African continent, as it aligns with the country’s continuing efforts to promote digital inclusion for Africa.”

This announcement is coming a year after Google shut down project Loon, a cost-effective solution to the difficult challenge of bringing internet access to people in underserved remote areas. The shutdown of Google’s Project Loon brought up questions about the fate of Google’s other internet projects targeted at Africa. The progress made so far hints that Equiano will be different from Loon.

Source

In 2021, African startups raised over $4 billion across 355 funding deals. Across Africa, this number is almost 3x times what was raised in 2020 and 2019, where the ecosystem recorded $1.7 billion and $1.3 billion respectively.

While 2021’s total tech funding in Africa is certainly the most impressive factor for the ecosystem, it’s just the tip of the iceberg. Across Africa’s 4 regions, many new firsts were achieved in 2021. It was the year $100 million single-round raises were normalised with 10 startups—including unicorns Wave, OPay, Flutterwave, and Chipper Cash—raising $100 million and breaking the records. That’s a significant increase from 2020, where no African startup raised $100 million in a single round, and a 400% total increase from the only 2 startups that raised such amounts pre-2021.

2021 was also the year the number of unicorns increased, by 166%, from 3 unicorns to 8. Andela, Chipper Cash, Wave, OPay and Flutterwave joined Jumia, Fawry, and Interswitch on the global stage.

There are a few other markers of the maturity of Africa’s tech ecosystem, including a derriere of veteran founders investing in early- and growth-stage startups on the continent. Flutterwave’s Gbenga Agboola, for example, invested in Brass and PayDay, while dynamic duo, Eloho Omame and Odun Eweniyi banded together to form FirstCheck Africa, a venture that invests in “ridiculously early” startups by female founders.

All of these key developments are explored in TechCabal’s 2021 End-of-Year Report.

For the first time, TechCabal has released data that documents the state of Africa’s ecosystem in the given year. The free-to-download report tracks the milestones Africa’s tech industry recorded in 2021. In our report, we cover the following themes and topics:

How much did African startups raise in 2021, and how much did each of the regions raise?
Which tech sectors, including fintech, edtech, and agritech got the most funding in each of the regions, and how do these numbers compare to previous years?

2021 also saw some of the biggest and most important mergers and acquisitions (M&As) across the continent, including Flutterwave’s acquisition of Disha and MFS Africa’s acquisition of Capricorn. These M&As are covered in the report.
With an influx of funds into the ecosystem, more VC firms and angel investors popped up last year. Who are they?
What can we expect from early-stage startups given that over $250 million venture funds were launched by a host of Silicon Valley companies including Google?

Download the free report here and find out.

Source

Guys and girls, I’m writing this with 10% left on my laptop battery.

We’re in the part of a horror movie where someone says, “It can’t get any worse,” and then it does. It started with contaminated fuel, then unending fuel scarcity, a surge in fuel price, transportation, food and now… Nigeria’s national grid keeps collapsing.

The only people enjoying this are the people that like semo. They’re used to suffering. Throw the rest of us into a group chat to rant, and this is how it’ll unfold.

Zikoko: Hey Nigerians. How far?

Fred: Is it Friday yet? Can I drink? I feel like I’ve aged 30 years.

David: If I start talking, I can cry. First of all, I left Lagos for Abuja, thinking electricity would be better there. But I should have known from the ridiculous flight fare that nowhere is safe. I had to enter a cramped bus all the way from Lagos. The consolation was the thought of escaping the Lagos madness. Well, I’ll tell you for free: Abuja is much worse. There’s no light. And the sun? Just cook me.

Nkechi: Let’s not even get started with that sun. A few days ago, my generator was stolen. I’m practically losing my mind in this heat.

David: Ehyaaa, sorry. What d’you mean your generator was stolen?

Sarah: I just want my mummy. I’m the real mumu for trusting that things would get better in this country. Now, look at me. First, I’ll struggle to buy fuel, then I’ll now struggle to hide it from my neighbours again.

Tommy: I feel you. “Stay on the island,” they said. “A serviced estate is the soft life,” they said. Now, look at me. I’m in Ikoyi, and estate generator fuel price don pass rent money.

David: What do you mean stolen generator?

Fav: Hug anybody you know living in a serviced apartment.

Pam: Forget the heat. My landlady just turned off the water for the entire building because there’s no light to pump more. Not that there’s no water at all o. She’s just saving our water for her family and church members — she’s also a pastor.

David: What—

Uche: Family and church ke?

Pam: I’m trying not to break down. I need to focus on work.

Uche: With everything, deadlines at work are still choking me. There’s no motivation for me to even think.

Fred: Pele bro. I haven’t been to the office as much as I’ve been there in the last week. Today is my third day in a row. God abeg.

Sarah: You people have money o. Getting to work is another stress. The transport prices go up every day. I’m paying almost triple the amount we started the year with.

Uche: Remote workers are the ones enjoying.

Fav: You want to roll with the big boys? Uche, e touch remote workers too. What happens when my laptop dies? How many hours do I have in a day to be spending hours in a fuel queue? On Monday, I had to take all my meetings in the car for four hours to get fuel.

Dami: Babe, imagine doing that and finally getting to the pump and the POS rejects your card?

Fav: Omo.

Dami: I had to go to another filling station to queue up. Again!

Ama: In Ibadan, fuelling stations aren’t even selling to people with jerry cans again. My only alternative is the black market. I’ve been buying 25 litres for ₦10k. I can’t take this for another month.

Fav: Do we have a choice? The other day, I had to buy from the black market and it knocked my car and generator engine. Look, I can’t even cry. My freezer is packed with food, and I need to keep my gen running. The generator noise is also killing me. God abeg!

Richard: Add Ogun state to the list. My only saving grace today was my neighbour’s house. I’ve never been this tired and stressed out.

Fred: Broooooo. The power grid has collapsed more than Jean Grey whenever she tries to use her powers. It feels like we’re being punished. Every bad thing seems to be happening to us at the same time.

Nkechi: Coping isn’t even a thing. No one is coping. We’re just existing.

Aisha: If I talk, I’ll break down.

David: If your partner is in uni, you can’t even vent. ASUU is also choking them. It’s been three months since my babe has been stuck at home. We’re both tensed up.

Fav: Everybody get as e dey pinch dem for this country.

David: Nkechi, can we talk about your stolen generator now?

Source