Lately, being a Nigerian tends to feel like a rollercoaster. From the skyrocketing cost of goods, to the exchange rate hitting over N1,500 to a dollar, to electricity grids collapsing every Eke Market Day, you must ask, is there ever going to be a way out? Right now, nothing is more important to the average Nigerian than building economic stability. No doubt, Nigerians have significant work to do in improving their economic prosperity. But the question is, how far can you go on this journey alone?
This Democracy Day, The Platform, Nigeria’s foremost thought-leadership conference returns with an edition to discuss the connection between democracy and the free market economy. This sounds like stuff for economists, but in simple terms, Democracy means people have the power to choose their leaders and make decisions together, while a free market economy means businesses can operate freely with little government interference, allowing competition and consumer choice.
Come June 12th, The Platform will hold its 36th edition in Lagos. This is a globally-anticipated event where you’ll get to learn from accomplished political and business leaders. This edition is tagged: Democracy and the Free Market Economy. It will be an avenue of idea exchange for forward-thinking Nigerians.
The Speakers
This edition brings a mix of speakers with a track record in governance, business, media, non-profit, and more.
Gov. Charles Chukwuma Soludo: With a strong background in economics and governance, he’ll share his insights on the subject.
Yakubu Dogara (Former Speaker House of Rep): He brings deep knowledge of the political landscape and its impact on economic prosperity.
Babatunde Raji Fashola (SAN): As a senior advocate and former governor, he’ll offer unique perspectives on infrastructure development and legal frameworks for a thriving market.
Bishop Matthew Hassan Kukah: Known for his advocacy and social commentary, he’ll provide valuable insights into socio-political matters.
Olusegun Adeniyi, Kola Oyeneyin, Titi Oshodi, and Oluseun Onigbinde: These experts in media, policy, entrepreneurship, and technology will add their diverse experiences to the discussion.
Event Details:
Date: June 12th, 2024
Time: 9 am prompt
Venue: Lagos, Nigeria. Due to the sensitive office holders that will be present, the venue will only be disclosed to those who register.
The Platform is for everyone passionate about self-development, including entrepreneurs, policymakers, professionals, creatives, and future-forward citizens. It’s a great opportunity to network with like-minded individuals and learn from thought leaders. The insights and connections you’ll gain will be invaluable.
Why This Event Matters Now
More than ever, this conference is timely. It provides an avenue to discuss ideas that foster business, career, and personal growth among Nigerians. If you want to lead Nigeria’s transformation, this is the place to be on Democracy Day.
The Best Part? This Event is Free to Attend
While this event is free, registration is required for access. Click the link below and reserve your seat:
Love Life is a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.
What’s your earliest memory of each other?
Nnamdi: We met after we got matched on a night-time radio show last year. I was single and searching, so possibly as a prank, one of my mates called in with my profile and then reached out to me when they found a match.
I was just laughing, but I decided to give it a try because I had nothing to lose. I reached out to her through the contact the radio station shared, and because she seemed open, we met at a restaurant close to her place. It was nice, she looked so good, and I thought I got lucky. I had this preconceived notion that there was no way I’d meet a good-looking person through a radio show, yet there I was.
Favour: I wasn’t necessarily searching at the time. I sent in my profile just for fun. I had this friend who was married but used to send her profile all the time. I’d done it once some months before that, but I chickened out of meeting with the guy they matched me with.
This time around, I thought, “What the heck?” But the same way he assumed any woman who’d be on such a show wouldn’t be attractive is the same way I thought any guy on it would be over-desperate. I didn’t get any desperate vibes from him. If anything, he seemed noncommittal.
What did you talk about during this first meeting?
Favour: Our work, careers, interests, why we were single at over 40.
After we’d spoken for a while, and I’d decided he was a cool guy, I told him I had an 11-year-old son from a failed marriage. He didn’t flinch. He just asked if he could see his picture and if I was comfortable talking about the marriage and why it failed. I enjoyed his maturity — not all 40+ men are mature — and I thought, “I’d love for us to be friends.” He didn’t really seem interested in a serious relationship, and I wasn’t even sure I was ready to take risks with love again.
Nnamdi: I told her I’d never been married at all, and she said that was a major red flag. But we laughed about it. In the end, it all came down to neither of us believing anything real could come out of being matchmade on radio.
Why did you never marry?
Nnamdi: Japa happened.
I had a steady girlfriend then I moved to the US in 2005, when you could still get chosen for a visa through draws. I got there and decided to stay longer, with the hopes of getting a green card. She decided she couldn’t wait any longer after the first two years. I ended up staying for 11 more years. The whole time, I found it extremely hard to date there.
Favour: I’m sure he gave off this playboy energy. If you don’t get to know him well enough, you’d think he was an unserious person. He’s not, though, just laidback.
Nnamdi: Tell them.
I returned to Nigeria in 2018 to set up my business and ended up having my head buried in work for the next couple of years. The girls I dated thought I was too busy or didn’t prioritise them enough. That’s why when Twitter boys say women only want money or “just buy her everything she wants and she’ll stay,” I wonder what they mean. That’s never been my experience. They definitely want your love and attention too.
So that’s how I found myself single and on a radio dating show at 45 years of age.
Wild. Favour, wanna talk about why your marriage failed?
Favour: Oh, he was abusive. He’d beat me then beg and gaslight. I completely bought into it until my eyes opened, and I got myself out of there fast.
What do you mean “bought into it”?
Favour: Abuse is scary. You never know when you go from completely sensible to irrational.
I started believing the beating was normal. He couldn’t help it because of all the pressures of life. Me sef why did I do this or that. He beats me because he’s so in love and passionate about us. Maybe it’s even advanced BDSM. I remember it being so normal after a while. I started liking and craving for how he’d beg and make me feel special after he’d given me a dirty slap.
Nnamdi: I wish I could set up some soldiers on the guy.
Favour: One day, our son was in the picture. When he was around two, I looked at him and thought, “I must be crazy to want to raise this boy here.”
It took me two more years to leave. I stayed with this man for eight years of my life. I found it almost impossible to even think about dating after that.
At what point did you reveal these things to each other?
Favour: I told him my ex was abusive on that first meeting. But I’ve only recently shared most of the details with him.
Nnamdi: I told her about my relationship history the first two or three times we talked. It was a prerequisite to even continue with whatever would happen between us because I think she wanted to make sure I wasn’t a major red flag.
During our first meetings, we carried on like new friends trying to keep the connection going because we’re at that age when we have a little more free time after a decade or more of grinding and losing friends to capitalism.
Favour: My life revolved around my mum and my son, so making a new friend in such an interesting way was exciting. I think also cancelling out the possibility of us dating from the beginning helped me let my guard down and open up a bit, in a way I’d never thought I would to a stranger.
So when did you realise you liked each other?
Favour: I think it snuck up on us. I can’t pinpoint a time.
Maybe it started with me wanting to make time during the weekends to see him, or when about a month after we met, I wanted him to meet my son.
Nnamdi: I knew I liked her on the second meeting. We were both surprised when I reached out to her about seeing again the very next week after the first meet. We were still playing it friendly, but I knew I wouldn’t get that interested in seeing a new friend so soon.
When she asked if I wanted to meet her son, I knew she liked me two but maybe hadn’t realised it yet. I played it cool for all of two months before I finally asked if we could become romantic.
Is that how you asked? “Can we become romantic?”
Nnamdi: I think so.
Favour: He said, “Please, let’s date romantically.” He was a little nervous, and I found it cute. I said yes even though I was also scared as hell. I kept checking his approach and attitude next to how my ex-husband did his own, to make sure I wasn’t falling for the same tricks.
I wanted to ghost him the week after I agreed to date him because I didn’t trust my judgement. It was tough.
Nnamdi: Thank you for opening your heart to me.
If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this form.
What was meeting the son like?
Favour: It was normal, quiet. But he was happy to see Nnamdi. He had this soft smile on his face throughout. My son is quite shy. We met at my house, so it was his comfort zone, and Nnamdi didn’t stay too long. I watched them talk quietly for about 30 minutes then he brought out his Legos to show Nnamdi what he could build. I knew we’d won his approval.
Nnamdi: We weren’t under much pressure because we were still just friends. I just cared about her enough that I also cared to know that she wasn’t struggling to take care of her son. I wanted to be there to help. When I met this well-behaved young boy, I knew his mum had to be a good person.
How do your families feel about your relationship?
Favour: It’s been just my mum and I for like a decade now. She’s accepted him wholeheartedly. In fact, she was my litmus test in the first month of whether I made the right decision to let him in, and they got along right from his visit to our house to meet my son. They have such a good rapport.
Nnamdi: I’ll admit my parents are less accepting. They would’ve preferred someone younger, someone who wasn’t married before and didn’t have a child already.
They said as much when I told them about her earlier on. But they’d also given up on me finding a wife deep in my 40s, and I have four happily married siblings, so they’re less willing to push my preference on her.
Favour: Yeah, my relationship with his parents is mixed because I can clearly see I’m not their preferred choice, but they’re also quite well-behaved about it. I’m never disrespected.
Although I don’t know what might happen if Di now decides to marry me.
Is marriage already in the conversation?
Nnamdi: Well. That’s the natural direction right now. We celebrate a year of dating in July. At our age, you don’t date for that long without thinking about marriage.
Favour: But he hasn’t proposed yet.
We talk about the future a lot, hypothetically. We talk about our career trajectories. We’re also currently figuring out children. I think that’s the one thing maybe holding us back.
How so?
Favour: Well, I’m on the tail end of my fertility journey, and I know he wants his kids. Some years back, I froze some of my eggs. We’re in that interesting period of checking out all our options.
Nnamdi: That’s not holding me back, Fave.
Favour: Ok. I’m just saying what I feel. I know it’s important to you.
What would happen if you find out you can’t have any more kids?
Nnamdi: Thank God for technology. We’ll invest in surrogacy. I don’t mind that at all. I’m just glad she had the foresight to freeze her eggs.
Favour: I’d be sad for sure, but I’m already bracing for the worst. I know that sounds pessimistic.
Nnamdi: I think we’ll be fine. It’s more important to me that I’ve found someone I can connect and feel like an equal with. We’re so well matched in terms of work, finances and the kind of conversations we can have.
And I love the way she’s raising her son, how involved she is even though she has her hectic work schedule.
Do you get pushback from society?
Favour: Some of his friends. Actually, I can tell his friends don’t like me.
Nnamdi: That’s not entirely true.
There are two particular friends who don’t like that I’d have to take care of another man’s son, and I’ve told them off.
Favour: I think a lot of them expected that you’d end up with someone younger. Especially that friend who set you up on the radio show in the first place.
One time, I saw him text Nnamdi that since he held out for so long, he thought he’d use the opportunity to get someone in her 20s.
Nnamdi: I’m so embarrassed of my friends right now. But it was also a very stupid “man” joke.
Do you find it funny, Favour?
Favour: Certainly not. I replied him “fuck off” as if I was Nnamdi, LOL. Ok, maybe I found it funny a little.
Nnamdi: But the same guy also asked me when I’m putting a ring on it just last week. I swear it’s all chill.
Favour: Well, my ex also gets in our way, showing up unannounced at times to get our son. I think the side with him and even his parents will always be complicated, so I get why Nnamdi’s friends are worried. Being a single mum is not pretty.
Can you tell us just how complicated it gets?
Favour: The major thing is not being able to plan out your kid’s life with the person you love. Instead, you’re doing it with someone you most likely hate.
I don’t know which is worse, having an active baby daddy you now hate or having a totally absent one. From where I’m sitting, I’d choose the latter any day.
Nnamdi: I’m not sure if I have the right to talk about this, but there’s also the worry that someone you know is abusive still gets to take care of your young child, and you’re not there to make sure they aren’t abusive to them as well.
Favour: Oh yes, thank you. That scares me all the time.
There’s nothing you can do about this?
Nnamdi: Like, Nigerian law is so vague and heavily patriarchal-leaning on child custody after divorce that I don’t know if there’s any way she can appeal for full custody.
Favour: My feminist ally!
But so far, my ex has proven to be a good father, and I keep praying that he will continue. I pray for my son ceaselessly. I just wish I never had to see my ex again.
Understandable. Have you two had a major fight yet?
Favour: Have we? No.
Nnamdi: Ahh. You don’t remember the day you almost screamed my head off for talking over you and telling your aunty that you’d allow her side of the family to take over accommodation arrangements during your father’s remembrance in February.
Favour: I was hoping you wouldn’t bring that up.
Tell us your side!
Favour: All of a sudden, he was telling my relatives he’d sorted this and handled that and set up this other thing. I was upset that he was going over my head; he didn’t discuss any of it with me. I didn’t even know what he was talking about in some cases.
Nnamdi: I thought I was helping by taking things off her plate in her time of grief. I had no idea she hated it until after the conversation with her aunt. That night in our room, she started screaming and crying.
I was angry too because I didn’t expect that reaction after all my sacrifice. But I also understood she was overwhelmed. I just walked out.
Favour: The next day was the event, and we were both carrying face.
Nnamdi: Later on, we talked about it and apologised to each other.
What she recently shared about the abuse she endured from her ex has also made me understand her reaction that day.
Have you both considered seeing a therapist about it?
Favour: We’ve talked about it. We probably will. I know I’ve healed from it in many ways thanks to my relationship with God, but the trauma is still there psychologically.
Nnamdi: I’d highly support that. I’d love to know how not to trigger her but also make sure I’m not compromising my own emotions as well.
On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your Love Life?
Nnamdi: 10. Don’t look down on matchmaking, guys.
Favour: Yes, 10. Also, don’t look down on finding love at any age.
Check back every Thursday by 9 AM for new Love Life stories here. The stories will also be a part of the Ships newsletter, so sign up here.
I recently talked to a friend who said she got scarred after giving her boyfriend oral sex during a random quickie. According to her, “It smelled like stale urine and locust beans down there.” Now, I can’t say I know for sure what a healthy penis should smell like, but I do know what it shouldn’t smell like, and top of that list is stale urine.
After that conversation, I knew I had to cover men’s hygiene for men’s health awareness month. The boys are out here neglecting the hygiene of their reproductive organs. If you’ve got a penis and balls, here’s a guide on how to keep them in tip-top shape.
Wash up
Don’t just splash water on your phallus and jump out of the bathroom. Dedicate some time to gently washing the nooks and crannies. Get all that build-up of sweat and urine out of the way with water and mild soap.
Pat it dry after every bath
Ever pulled off your boxers after a long day and shuddered at the smell that hit your nostrils? It’s probably because you didn’t clean up properly after bathing. It’s super important you pat everywhere dry. Personally, I spread out in front of a standing fan for a few minutes before putting on underwear.
Rinse off after every pee
This is a common practice among Muslim men, but everyone should do it. After every pee, shake your junk to get all the excess urine out and rinse off with water. This is the easiest way to avoid smelling off and having urine stains on your underwear.
Shave
Listen, I’ve never known a time when it was cool to leave a clump of pubic hair hovering over your dick. Grab a tube of hair removal cream and scrape that stuff off. A low trim is preferable since hair also prevents against STIs. If you can, reach for the hair around the anus too. I hear some barbers offer this as a service.
Don’t repeat boxers
Many men are guilty of repeating underwear. That’s bad business for your odogwu and sons, bro. The ideal thing to do is wash your boxers after every use and wear a fresh pair daily.
Stick to cotton boxers
Yes, you prefer spandex boxers and hot pants because they help you hide random erections in public. But do you know they may be doing more harm than good because they trap air? Cotton underwear does a better job at keeping the air circulating down there. Basically, they let the balls breathe.
Avoid hot water
I know you’re tempted to bathe with piping hot water when it’s cold, but that’s bad business for your penis and balls. Hot water can cause irritation. Also, since the testicles need to be cooler than body temperature to function properly, hot water can overheat them and affect sperm production.
Clean the foreskin
Not all men have a foreskin, but if you’ve got one, you’ll need to raise it up and clean it properly whenever you bathe. Smegma—a thick, cheesy-looking secretion—builds up under the foreskin when left unwashed. The smell is unpleasant, and if it’s left unattended, it can also cause redness, itching, and swelling.
Powder it up
Things get real messy down there during the hot season. Air gets trapped in your cotton underwear, and all that sweat makes it annoyingly sticky. One way out? Apply a generous dab of powder in the corners of your private parts. It keeps the moisture in check and helps you feel dry.
Always look in the mirror
Yup, you should always have routine checks where you grab a mirror and see what’s going on down there. Look out for bumps on your ball sack and groin area. If anything looks off, go to the hospital ASAP.
Let it never be said that Nollywood doesn’t give us choices. From the deadbeat daddies to the daddies that double as besties, here are the greatest father-son duos Nollywood has given us so far.
Mr Ibu and Muo in “Mr Ibu”
Image Credit: PremiumTimesNigeria
Mr Ibu and Muo were constantly at each other’s throats and never let the other have even a second of peace, but it was clear they cared about each other—even if it was because they got to torment each other.
Andy and Nnamdi Okeke in “Living in Bondage: Breaking Free”
Image Credit: shockng
Imagine finding your way out of a satanic cult, giving your life to Christ, and turning a new leaf only for your estranged son to walk in there and take your spot.
That’s what happened with these two. Andy had to find a way to build a relationship with Nnamdi and save him from the clutches of Richard Williams and his not-so-merry band of blood-sucking demons. We didn’t think they’d succeed, but the cult was no match for a praying father.
Paul and Damilola Edima in “The Black Book”
We didn’t get to see much of their relationship with each other, but we saw the way Damilola’s daddy hunted down the people that killed his son, and that’s enough to show how much they meant to each other.
Fred Ade-Williams and Philip Ade-Williams in “Tinsel”
Was Philip a spoiled brat? Yes
Did his daddy let him carry his spoiled, wayward attitude to the outside world? Yes. Now and again
Fred and Philp’s relationship was strained, but they knew they could always reach out to each other if they needed help.
Chief T.A Fuji and his many sons in “Fuji House of Commotion”
Image Credit: zikoko
Chief T.A. definitely wasn’t the best father to his multiple sons because how do you forget your children’s names? But he was one of the first deadbeat daddies Nollywood gave us, and we appreciate the visibility.
Tivdo and Terfa Gyado in “Unbroken”
Image Credit: AfricaMagic
If there was anything Tivdo knew for a fact, it was that his daddy loved him. Terfa’s shady dealings might have temporarily cost him his legs, but at the end of the day, they were a team, and they knew they had each other’s backs.
Imole and Maje in “Slum King”
Image Credit: BHM
Maje may have lost his biological father at a young age and gotten thrown into maximum prison, but he met x and had his life changed completely. Granted, it wasn’t for the best because his new daddy threw him into a life of gbomo gbomo, but they loved each other and did their best to make sure it showed.
Adil and Jayden in “Big Love”
Adil might not have been Jayden’s biological father, but it was clear to everyone that he would’ve done anything for the boy. Even when Adil and Adina briefly broke up, he still tried his best to show up for Jayden as much as he could.
Eid el-Kabir, also known as Eid al-Adha or Sallah, is one of the most important celebrations in Islam. In English, the Arabic phrase Eid el-Kabir means the Festival of Sacrifice. It commemorates the story of Prophet Ibrahim and his willingness to sacrifice his son, Ismail, to obey Allah. Just as he was about to offer Ismail for sacrifice, Allah stopped Ibrahim and provided a ram to be slaughtered in his place. This event marks a show of faith and total submission to the will of Allah. Muslims celebrate Eid el-Kabir by slaughtering an animal, typically sheep, goat, or cow, and distributing the meat among family, friends, and those in need.
Whether you’re celebrating or know someone who is, here are some thoughtful prayers and messages to show goodwill.
Eid el-Kabir prayers
Nothing beats saying a prayer for your loved ones during a celebration. It’s a great way to show you care for them outside of all the tasty Sallah ram they’ll send your way.
May your sacrifices be accepted and your home be showered with blessings.
As you offer your sacrifices, I pray that Allah showers his divine blessings on you and fulfills all your dreams on this Eid al-Adha and always.
May Allah grant you and your family happiness, good health, and prosperity this Eid al-Adha.
During Sallah, Allah replaced a ram with Ishmael for the Prophet Ibrahim. May He replace all your problems and sorrows with abundance and happiness. Eid Mubarak.
May you and your family witness more of this celebration in good health and sound mind.
May Allah give you the strength to always be willing to sacrifice and submit to His will and command at all times. Happy celebrations.
May all your good deeds transform into blessings and make it a beautiful Sallah celebration for you and your family.
May the goodness of Allah that abounds in heaven and earth occupy your home with joy and tranquility on this occasion of Eid al-Adha. I pray Allah purifies your heart, protects and favors you, and grants you a long life to experience more celebrations.
May Allah accept our Ibadah, ease our affairs, guide our paths, forgive our shortcomings, and grant us all the best in this life and the world to come. May He make our feet steadfast on this path of Al Islam. Eid Mubarak.
May the sacrifice of Eid el-Kabir strengthen your faith in Allah and light up your world with uncountable blessings. Eid Mubarak.
Thoughtful Eid el-Kabir messages
Eid is only celebrated once a year, so it’s a big deal that your friends and family have witnessed yet another celebration. Never a bad idea to let them know how glad and happy you are to have them around for another year of celebration. These thoughtful Eid messages will do the trick.
Sending you warm wishes for a blessed Eid. May you find joy in the simple things and create lasting memories with your loved ones.
The most important message of Eid-al-Kabir is the abolition of individual selfishness. May the teachings of this occasion brighten your life today and always.
Each Muslim is welcome to embrace the warmth of Allah’s love on this day, so make sure to share the joy and excitement with your family and neighbors. May Allah bless you with ceaseless happiness and goodwill.
Wishing you a day filled with blessings, good vibes, and all the Sallah meat that your teeth can handle. Cheers to a great celebration.
Happy Eid. May this Sallah bring you all the joy and deliciousness you deserve. Save some Sallah meat for me, okay?
Eid-al-Adha is the day of offering sacrifice, rejoicing, enjoying, and showing our commitment to what Allah orders.
Sending you good vibes on this great day. May Allah fill your heart with happiness and love. I love you.
Accept the blessings of Allah with all your heart and forget the sorrows that burden your soul. Enjoy the moments you share with your family.
Barka da Sallah! May this Eid bring you and your family peace, prosperity, and good health.
Thanks to Allah for bringing us together to share the same path. Now, let’s share the same happiness and pleasure as the holy Eid is almost at the door. Happy celebrations.
Eid el-Kabir, aka Sallah, is a time of great excitement for Muslim families. It means new clothes, plenty of fried meat, and quality time with family. But what if things took a different turn? Maybe a relative isn’t around anymore, or a family simply can’t afford to celebrate.
These are the experiences of the Muslims in this article who share what it’s like to have a quieter Sallah. Their stories remind us that celebrations can change for everyone each year, and that’s okay.
Ibrahim*
We used to travel to Abeokuta for Sallah every year, but this stopped after my grandpa died in 2014. The Sallah after his death, we didn’t really celebrate. He was always in charge of everything, from buying the rams to organising the women in our village to help with cooking. It was too much for my mum and her siblings to handle the next Sallah. The family also couldn’t agree on whether we should go to Abeokuta like we always did or stay in Lagos. We ended up staying in Lagos and didn’t do anything. We visited family friends on Sallah day, and that was it. That’s definitely my least favourite Sallah.
Firdaus*
It looks like this will be our first Sallah without a ram. The prices are too expensive, and my dad has been complaining. Usually, we always had our ram a week or two before Sallah. But it’s Friday already, and there’s no sign of a ram anywhere. My dad used to travel to the north with his friend because prices are relatively cheaper there, but that friend died late last year, and he couldn’t make the trip alone this year. I overheard him telling my mum that prices for a medium-sized goat are around ₦300k-₦350k. Knowing my dad, he wouldn’t spend that much on a goat. Right now, I’m keeping my hopes in check.
Kunle*
We didn’t slaughter a ram for Sallah in 2019. I can’t remember my parents’ exact reason, but it was money-related. Shame wanted to kill me because my friends in our estate kept asking about our ram. I initially told them it was on the way because I genuinely thought that was the case. Two days to Sallah, my parents dropped the news, and I felt like a fraud. I just kept avoiding my friends until Sallah day. I didn’t even go for Eid prayers that morning. The most painful part was that the other Muslim folks didn’t bring food to our house because they knew we were Muslims, and I guess they assumed we would be celebrating.
Taiwo*
We’ve not celebrated Sallah since my dad died in 2021. He used to handle the expenses and all the wahala that comes with buying the ram. But since his death, my mum hasn’t been keen on celebrating, and I understand. The bills of taking care of the house and my siblings really choke. We now spend Sallah with her parents, who are my grandparents. Celebrating with them isn’t bad, but I miss when it used to be our ram in our house. Now, we’re like those family members who visit because they can’t afford their own ram.
Fawaz*
Our first Sallah without a ram was in 2017. That year, my dad travelled a week before Sallah but had already bought our ram. It was a really big one with pointy horns, and everyone kept commenting on how it would be a badass fighter. I don’t know if it was the comment that got to my older brother or the cash prize he thought he’d win, but he entered the ram in a street fight competition. I warned him against it, but he didn’t listen; his friends gave him ginger. I was so close to telling my parents, but I didn’t want to snitch, so I just turned a blind eye to the whole thing. On the day of the fight, my brother came home earlier than usual, looking like his whole world had crashed. Well, in a way, that was what happened because our ram got injured and died. We had to do an impromptu slaughtering so it wouldn’t go to waste. My parents didn’t care to listen that my brother took the ram fighting. We both got punished and that Sallah was gloomy AF.
Hassan*
We’ve never celebrated Sallah without a ram. Although, I don’t know what is happening this year. Most Muslims in our estate already have their rams tied up somewhere around their house, but we’ve not gotten ours yet. I asked my mum what was up yesterday, and she said, “Go and ask your father.” I’ve not asked him because that man has been in a foul mood for some time. Although I remember it took a while for our ram to arrive last year, Sallah is on Sunday, and it’s already Friday; we only have today and tomorrow. I’m hoping the ram is on the way sha.
Taking proper care of your skin is a lot of work. There’s a long list of things you should do and an even longer list of things you shouldn’t do. It can become too much, so here’s a quick and simple guide on how to take good care of your skin.
Understand your skin type
It might be tempting but don’t dive head-first into everything you see other people doing. Figure out what type of skin you have and what mayfor you. That way, you’re not wasting time and money on products that might cause you more harm than good.
Get money
Skincare is anything but cheap.If you want to put in enough hard work for your skin to finally take pity on you and start caring, you’ll need to get your bag up as soon as possible.
Keep your hands away from your face
Think of all the surfaces you’ve touched throughout the day. Now think of all the people who have also touched them and where their hands might have been. You don’t want germs anywhere near parts of the body you’re trying to take care of, especially your face.
Always moisturize
You’ll need to get used to moisturising your skin and not just slapping oils on. When you use a good moisturising lotion like Nivea Radiant Beauty Even Glow, you get 48-hour moisture that leaves your skin looking and feeling better. It has 95% pure vitamin C and Pearl Extract that helps reduce the appearance of dark spots leaving you with a visibly radiant and even tone skin in just two weeks.
Use sunscreen
There’s truth behind the sunscreen hype sunscreen. It protects you from the harsh rays of the sun, makes sure skin cancer stays far away from you, and stops you from looking 55 at the young age of 25. If you get the Nivea Even Glow lotion you won’t need to get a body sunscreen because it contain SPF 15.
Don’t ever say Zikoko did nothing for you.
Get a daily skincare routine
It doesn’t have to be an elaborate 10-step routine, as long as you wake up every morning and make sure your skin feels loved and tended to.
Change your pillowcase once a week
Forget about all the slobbering you do while sleeping and think about the dust mites that have made your pillowcase their home. The more time you spend with the same pillowcase, the more dead skin cells accumulate, the more dust mites you get, and the higher your chances of acne and bacterial infections.
I’d just published this story about an apprenticeship gone wrong when Tunrayo* reached out, saying she’d had a similar experience with a Nigerian politician who’d been her role model since she was 9.
She talks about finally getting the opportunity to work with this politician, abandoning her family, enduring abuse, and almost losing her identity and life to her work.
I became fascinated with a particular Nigerian politician at 9 years old. Fascination doesn’t even begin to cover it. I was obsessed. I even had pictures of the woman in my room.
Let me tell you how it started. I decided I wanted to be a journalist pretty early in life. I loved watching the news and following political stories. Though a businessman, my dad knew a lot about the political happenings in my home state. That’s how I got to know this politician. Biodun* was a prominent political figure in my state at a time when it was almost impossible to see women at the forefront of politics. She was 20 years older, but I wanted to be like her.
I admired and wanted to be like Biodun so much I’d write short notes about my admiration and paste them on the noticeboard at the mosque. Biodun was partly the reason I didn’t study in the UK. I graduated from secondary school around 2010 and had already secured admission to the UK — not for journalism, though. My dad thought studying law was better.
Just before I was meant to travel, my dad changed his mind and decided I’d better go to school in Nigeria instead. His reason? Biodun also studied in the UK and was a chain smoker. He knew how much I idolised her and feared I was ready to imitate this woman in everything, including smoking. He was right because I did get into smoking years later because of her, but we’ll get to that.
Eventually, I got admitted to study law at one of the universities in my state. Ironically, that brought me closer to Biodun — it was the same state she worked in. By then, my obsession had grown to commenting on all her social media posts and fighting everyone with anything negative to say in the comments. I followed every single thing she did. I started calling myself a “Biodunist” and began wearing red lipstick because she always wore it, making her picture my wallpaper on everything I owned. She was also my display picture on all my social media accounts — the love was that deep.
It was politics that finally brought me the opportunity to meet her. My penchant for writing led me to work for several media houses as a student, and I regularly wrote articles criticising the state government in power. This made me well-known to some members of the opposing political party in the state, and I became friends with many of them. I also became active in student union politics and championed several causes to ensure female involvement in school politics.
In 2014, I organised a female conference and magazine launch to highlight women doing great work in their fields. Of course, Biodun had to be the face of the magazine. I repeatedly sent several invitations to her via Facebook, but I didn’t get any headway until someone I knew from my political activities gave me her contact. Surprisingly, Biodun responded, and we started chatting on BlackBerry Messenger.
I couldn’t believe my luck. It was my chance to impress her, and I tried my hardest. She loves rap music — BBM had a thing where you could see what people were listening to, so I started listening to Nicki Minaj and Drake because she did, too. One time, we were chatting about Game of Thrones during exam season, and I’d literally leave my books to watch new episodes so that I could respond if she talked about the series.
Biodun wasn’t in office at this point, but she planned to run again in 2015, and I somehow became involved in her campaign. She knew I was her staunch supporter and that I knew my way around politics. So, she sent me a data modem and tasked me with creating social media accounts for her campaign.
I should note that we hadn’t met at this point, and I wasn’t being paid, but it felt like I was part of something great. I bragged about my work with her to everyone who cared to listen. I went for Hajj that year, and instead of praying for myself or my family, I stood in front of the Kabba praying for Biodun to win the election. I cried like a baby when she lost the party’s primary elections.
Remember that conference I organised? She didn’t come, even though she promised she would. She sent a representative instead, but I couldn’t stay angry with her for long. Especially since she came through for me some months later when I got into trouble with the police because of my outside-school political activities. She promised to send lawyers if I wasn’t released. It didn’t get to that, but I took that assurance as her reciprocating my love for her. And my loyalty tripled.
We still kept in touch when I went on to law school. She’d always tell me how stressful work was for her since she didn’t have a personal assistant, and I’d respond by saying I wished I was there to help her. I moved into her house immediately after my final exams in 2017 and resumed work unofficially that same night. I say “unofficially” because no one gave me an appointment letter. I was supposed to go home — my mum had even booked a flight for me, but I refused to leave her side.
Biodun was planning to run for governor in 2023, and I was tasked with building a roadmap for her to get there through humanitarian initiatives, charity, and the like. That became my life’s work. In my head, I was going to help make a difference in the state.
My daily schedule involved waking up around 11 a.m., going to Biodun’s study, and working with her until 3 a.m. I lived in the same room with her maid and slept on a bunk bed. They also had a dog in the maid’s room who peed everywhere, which meant I couldn’t observe my daily prayers regularly.
I ate once a day in Biodun’s house — only breakfast, and that was typically bread and eggs. I rarely ate more than once a day, and that happens if the maid brings food to her study and Biodun tells me to come and eat. That wasn’t often because she did a lot of diet fasting. I also wasn’t being paid, so I sometimes called home for money so I could buy food. Looking back at it now, it was a far cry from my privileged background, but I didn’t see it at the time. I was working with my idol, and that was all that mattered.
It also didn’t matter that I took monthly flights with my own money during NYSC year for monthly clearance just so I could keep living with Biodun even though I was posted to a different state.
Our schedule got a lot tighter in 2018 because of the preparations for the general elections the following year. Biodun wasn’t contesting, but she needed to ingratiate herself with the party, and she handled many campaign efforts and empowerment projects in our state on behalf of the presidential candidate.
We flew together everywhere. I was always in the car with her, never more than a few feet away. No jokes; I followed her into the toilet several times and even helped her dress up. I was the one carrying campaign money and following her up and down. People began calling me her PA, and it thrilled me.
If you know anything about politics in Nigeria, you know there’s never a shortage of enemies. Biodun’s house was always full, with different people going in and out. That crowd got bigger with the campaigns, and we began killing a cow daily to cook for people. I was the one handling money, and sometimes, when she directed me to give someone money to buy something, I’d naively exclaim that the item shouldn’t cost that much. That brought me a lot of enemies.
There was also a lot of backbiting and passive-aggressiveness going around, and I soon started feeling unsafe. I had to bring some friends to come live with me because I worried about even eating food at the house. I’m honestly not sure if I was attacked because I was found unconscious one day with my three cats dead beside me and three random scars on my back. This was just before the elections in 2019, and I’d briefly returned to my family home. I was hospitalised for a week, and after I was discharged, I still returned to Biodun’s house despite pushback from my family.
2019 was also the year my eyes started to “clear”. Biodun landed a ministerial appointment and got an actual PA. I didn’t mind it because I thought there was a way personal assistants were supposed to dress or look, and I didn’t fit that position. Where did I even want to see money to buy good clothes? I was literally dressing like a maid back then. But that wasn’t the only thing that changed.
I’d always known Biodun had temper issues — she was known for screaming at people and throwing objects, but I always knew to avoid her when she was in a mood, so I was hardly the focus of her outbursts. But the night before a dinner to celebrate her appointment, she called me a stupid person and threw a remote at me because I couldn’t find golden spoons to rent for the dinner.
We also went from working closely together to hardly speaking to each other. We were still living in the same house, but there was now a PA and several DSS officers around her and I couldn’t just approach her.
Those first few weeks after her appointment, I felt like I was just floating around—going to the office and returning to the house with no sense of direction. After a while, I was officially given a title as research and policy assistant and a ₦150k salary, but I didn’t feel like part of the team.
I’d thought the ministerial position would provide an opportunity to work on the projects Biodun and I had discussed as her roadmap to governorship, but she was no longer interested. We’d planned to start a recycling project, but that got abandoned. She’d also placed someone on a scholarship but suddenly stopped paying the fees and ignored prompts about it.
Around the same time, she bought aso-ebi for everyone in the office for someone’s wedding. People would reach out for help, and we’d ignore them, but if the person died, we’d send cows and visit for optics. I didn’t recognise who she’d become, and I felt betrayed. What happened to the visions and the people we used to go see back to back during the campaigns?
It suddenly became like I didn’t know how to do anything anymore. Biodun would scream at me and insult me in full view of everyone for the slightest thing. I wasn’t allowed to leave the house or office without permission. One time, I went to the mosque, and when she didn’t see me in my seat, it became an issue. I was also working long hours. I had to get to the office before 9 a.m. and only leave after she had left. Sometimes, I’d return home by 9 p.m. only to continue working till well past midnight.
The office politics was even worse. People who work in government offices have the opportunity to go on training programs with an estacode allowance (or travel allowance) to cover any expenses. Biodun’s chief of staff made sure he was the only one who went for those programs. He actually didn’t even go for most of them; it was the allowance he wanted.
In 2020, I summoned the courage to leave Biodun’s house. I rented an apartment but had to lie to her that it was my friend’s place, and I just wanted to visit her during the weekends. That was how I packed my things small small till I moved into that apartment.
Moving out was a lifesaver. I really began to see how I’d grown into a shadow of myself. I could cook and eat without worrying about going out to buy food and having to explain where I went. I should mention that my mum had been worried about me for a long time. My dad had passed away at this point, and she expected me to return home to manage his business, but I couldn’t even visit. I was also constantly taking money from my trust to survive. She didn’t understand why I just couldn’t leave.
The final push I needed to leave came during the EndSARS protests. I wasn’t allowed to join because I worked for the ruling government, but it was a cause that affected me. My younger brother was a victim of these SARS officers, and it was personal to me. So, I’d sneak out of the office to attend protests. I could do that because the presidency had directed most officials to return to their states to try to diffuse the tension.
On social media, Biodun formed solidarity with the youths, even helping project the #5for5 demands. But on a WhatsApp group with other party members, she was inciting people to throw curses on the youths for protesting and claiming a political opponent sponsored them. I was appalled by it all and even got into a public argument about it on the WhatsApp group until some people reached me privately and called me to order. I was so disappointed and ashamed. This wasn’t the Biodun I knew and admired.
The presidency also called for stakeholders to present reports about the protests, and I attended one to get pointers on how to prepare Biodun’s report. You won’t believe no one talked about the lives lost at the Lekki toll gate or the damaged properties. The “stakeholders” were rather discussing contract approvals.
I think that was the point I became disillusioned with the whole thing and decided I was leaving for good. I did leave sometime later during a meeting with Biodun and some other staff. They were complaining about something I supposedly did wrong, and I just stood up, plugged in my headphones and walked out.
Four years later, I’m still glad I left when I did. I can finally breathe. Since then, I’ve grown in the political space and have done important work that I care about. I also manage my dad’s business now.
I can make friends with whomever I want. I couldn’t do this while working with Biodun because I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone connected with other politicians. She also made me write damaging and insulting articles about other people, and I regret being used to do so much of her dirty work, but I’m moving on from that.
Most importantly, I’ve grown, and I now know my worth. I wasted so many years of my life following someone mindlessly, but I know better now, and no one can make me go through that again. I don’t have any political leader because I can’t do that running up and down for someone else anymore. I’m grateful for my family and appreciate how much they stood by me while I figured things out. I’m in a better place now, and my experience has taught me to treat people with respect. I know how it feels to be treated like shit, and I have a responsibility to make sure I don’t pass that on.
For every young person aspiring to get into politics, it’s important to develop yourself first before putting yourself under someone else because reaching your full potential will be difficult that way. Also, don’t trust any politician. They change.
On June 11, 2024, Professor Akin Abayomi, Lagos State’s Commissioner for Health, issued a press statement that reported, confirmed, and warned about excess cholera reports in Lagos State.
Although the state government issued another official statement yesterday stating that the alarming gastroenteritis cases are contained, this is what’s been happening.
According to the Nigeria Centre for Disease Control and Prevention (NCDC)…
The data from the NCDC showed that from January 1 to June 11, 2024, Nigeria reported 1,141 suspected cholera cases, 65 confirmed cases, and 14 deaths across 96 local governments in 30 states. Ten states contributed 90% of the total numbers: Abia, Bauchi, Bayelsa, Cross River, Delta, Imo, Katsina, Nasarawa, and lately Lagos.
The Lagos State’s cases
According to the surveillance reports, Prof. Abayomi (Commissioner for Health, Lagos) revealed severe cases in areas like Ikorodu, Kosofe, Eti-Osa and Lagos Island.
The casualties
The Lagos Health Commissioner’s report noted five deaths and nothing less than sixty hospital admissions.
Increased surveillance and investigation
The Ministry of Health Directorate of Environmental Health and the Lagos State Environmental Protection Agency are alerted to investigate a likely water contamination source around Victoria Island and Lekki. These agencies have also taken in samples for confirmation.
Hotlines
Report suspected cholera cases in Lagos to the following emergency contacts: 08023169485 and 08137412348. You can also dial helplines 112 or 767.
Suspected cases in Ibadan
In a press statement issued on X on June 13, 2024, the Oyo State government reported two admitted suspected cases of Cholera from Lagos state in a private hospital in Ibadan. However, the state’s health agencies are on it.
Federal government’s intervention
The government has established a multi-sectoral National Cholera Technical Working Group that comprises the NCDC, Federal Ministries of Environmental and Water Resources, the National Primary Health Care Development Agency (NPHCDA), World Health Organizations (WHO), United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), and other partners.
Have you run out of inspiration for what to wear this Eid? Is your choice of Ileya outfit basic AF? Is your Nigerian tailor showing you the same styles you’ve worn for five Sallah celebrations? You’re in luck if you answered yes to any of these questions. We asked DALL-E 3 to design Ileya outfits for Muslim men and women, and we can’t help but agree that AI knows ball.
Ileya outfits for men
As a man, don’t listen to people who say you don’t have to do much to make an impression. If you want the compliments to roll in this Eid, start with these DALL-E 3 inspirations:
Short-sleeve agbada
Rock this agbada style on Eid, and everyone will ask for your tailor’s number.
Beaded jalabiya
For most Nigerian Muslims, jalabiya is a basic Ileya outfit that screams low effort. But not if you rock this type with beaded embroidery. This style is heavy on the crown prince energy.
Simple black jalabiya
One good thing about black jalebia is that they’ll withstand all the stains that come your way. Just make sure you pair them with a nice cap that completes your look.
Kimono x tunic combo
Now, this is a look that’ll surely make you stand out at the Eid prayer ground. From the Mama-Africa-themed cap to the tassels and kimono, AI ate.
Metallic silk tunic
This metallic silk outfit screams rich uncle. If you wear it, ensure your pocket is lined with crisp notes because the kids will ask for Sallah money.
Embroidered guinea brocade
The good ol’ guinea brocade doesn’t disappoint. You can ask your tailor to throw in some Ankara fabric for extra pizzazz.
Agbada with cape
This agbada low-key gives off graduation gown vibes, but it’s definitely not your regular style, so yes, to it.
Jalabiya with mini cape
This style works better without the mini cape. AI didn’t eat with this one sha.
Senator x ankara combo
Not a fan of embroidery? You should get your Nigerian tailor to play around with ankara fabric. It’s not a bad look.
Embroidered kaftan
There’s no escaping being called a “Yoruba demon” if you show up looking this good for Ileya. Also, this style looks easy peasy for Nigerian tailors.
Ileya outfits for women
Whether you’re going for rich aunty or oga’s wife, DALL-E 3 says these are the Ileya outfits that should be on your radar.
Ankara abaya
If you don’t have a minimum of ₦25k-₦50k for a ready-made abaya, show your Nigerian tailor this style. It does the job and costs less.
Simple floral gown
This is a nice option to wear after you return from the Eid prayer ground. Just make sure you’re not doing any heavy cooking or lifting.
Kimono abaya with rhinestones
If you wear this, just expect everyone in your neighbourhood to bill you.
Bedazzled abaya
Nothing screams rich aunty more than abaya styles with stone embroidery. Rock this one, and you’ll light up any room you enter.
Full-length gown with headgear
This abstract art-inspired Ileya outfit is perfect for corporate girlies who like to keep it smart and classy even during celebrations. That belt detail killed this look.
Abaya with a cape
Is it me, or does the cape low-key make this look like a bridal outfit? It’s still a real serve if you wear this for Ileya.
Two-piece set
Something about this outfit leans heavily towards “oga wife” and “rich aunty”.
Chiffon abaya with hijab
Rock this if you’re a hijab-wearing sister who wants to switch things up a bit for Ileya.
Two-piece chiffon set
This might not be appropriate for the Eid prayer ground, but it’s something you can rock when you return home.
Jalabiya dress with mini hijab
Just in case you’re in the mood to twin with your habibi.
HBO’s “House of the Dragon,” the “Game of Thrones” spinoff, is back for a second season after a two-year break.
House of the Dragon is a captivating return to the complex and treacherous world of Westeros, a 200-year prequel to the acclaimed TV show, Game of Thrones. Adapted from George R.R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire” book series, this new installment dives deep into the history of House Targaryen, exploring the events that led to the infamous Targaryen civil war, known as the Dance of the Dragons.
Or simply put, this queen…
Queen Rhaenyra | Photograph by Theo Whitman/HBO
…versus this queen…
Dowager Queen Alicent | Photograph by Theo Whitman/HBO
…who, if you’ve watched the first season, is her ex-bestie turned late father, King Viserys’s second wife (long story).
It starts where season one left off, post-King Viserys’s death and Alicent’s mishearing of his final words to mean that her son, the overindulgent Aegon Targaryen, should rule after him instead of his first child and official heir, Rhaenyra.
But where season one was perhaps slow-paced, big on setting and character development up until after the king’s tragic death — ending with Rhaenyra’s second son’s untimely death at the hand of Alicent’s second son and his giant dragon — this season expectedly begins chaotically.
With mourning, reprisal attacks after reprisal attacks, intricate politics, familial betrayals and epic battles, fans of the Game of Thrones universe finally get a taste of what they’ve come to expect — brutality. Expect dragons, battles, crazy misunderstandings and a bunch of petty guys causing avoidable complications.
But also, expect a lot of waiting around for something… more to happen.
Photograph by Ollie Upton/HBO
It opens in Winterfell, on a trip to the Night’s Watch and a mention of “Winter is coming”, immediately throwing us deep into nostalgia and a promise that everything good about the original show is about to come back to us?
While the show has finally found its balance, there are still scenes where logic flies out the window, random twists without feeling and too many side plots that make it hard to care about the main battle for the Iron Throne.
At some point, we have to join Aegon to ask what’s up with the game of thrones? Are they going to fight the fight or not? However, the bratty new king, who thinks like most that being king is about doing whatever you want, is hardly a worthy contender.
King Aegon | Photograph by Ollie Upton/HBO
At least, not without support from his mum, granddad (and “hand to the king”) Otto Hightower, and crazy brother, Aemond. Even then, Aegon gives us nothing to particularly hate, fear, love or all of the above, like Joffrey, Cersei or Daenerys of the original.
On the other side is Rhaenyra, backed by her own crazy husband/uncle Daemon, her in-laws/cousins the Velaryons, and her kids who everyone knows are illegitimate. She, at least, gives us something akin to an uninspiring Daenerys-lite. Perhaps it is unfair then to even compare this spinoff to the OG show.
It’s “green” versus “black”. Green for Aegon and Alicent; black for Rhaenyra and Daemon.
There are tons of other characters you might not remember, and the show doesn’t care to reintroduce them. In fact, fans may need a quick recap of the last season to even remember some plots and players, and why they matter. New silver-haired little children spring up, and no one really seems to know whose they are.
Everyone’s angry, constantly about to fight a dumb war.
Photograph by Ollie Upton/HBO
The first four of eight episodes were made available to critics like us for review, and from what we can tell — without obviously spoiling anything — the mix of stunning cinematography, meticulous production design and grandeur of the Targaryen dynasty through magnificent sets and costumes gives way to a show that’s okay, and sometimes, good.
The lead actors’ talents feel wasted, left to do their best with often hair-pulling dialogue and threadbare plot.
Matt Smith’s Daemon still doesn’t know who he is. Is he blood hungrily soulless like the show tries hard to portray or is he devotedly loyal to Rhaenyra? While the constant dichotomy is familiar ground for this universe where two-faced (or no-faced?) characters are the order of the day, this time, it feels most like the show itself is altogether unsure.
Rhaenyra x Daemon standoff | Photograph by Ollie Upton/HBO
Is Emma D’Arcy’s Rhaenyra to be a strong, capable queen or is she just going with the flow? Does Olivia Cooke’s Alicent actually know what the hell she’s doing? The only sure thing is Fabien Frankel as Ser Criston Cole with his faux-clueless look of steadfast hypocrisy as he righteous-indignantly blusters through the plot. Does he love being a fuck-boy for queens or not?
Also, the plot twists need too much disbelief to work. Some things are too easy and some things are too complicated. Too much potential is lost in boring decisions and lackluster performances that appear to have no end result.
Rhaenyra x Daemon standoff part two | Photograph by Ollie Upton/HBO
Except of course, if the end is to build our impatience for some real action to a fevered pitch that would be satisfied by the latter half of the season.
But don’t let that deter you — there’s still plenty to love. As the green versus black conflict heats up, it’s clear that the Targaryen civil war is just getting started. So, grab your popcorn and get ready for a wild ride. Because if there’s one thing this season guarantees, it’s that the dance of dragons is far from over, and the best (and most brutal) is yet to come.
Photograph by Courtesy of HBO
Soft plantain for anyone who can name the dragon above.
Season two of HOUSE OF THE DRAGON debuts today, June 16 (9:00 – 10:00 p.m. ET/PT) on HBO and will be available to stream on Max. The eight-episode season will continue with one new episode weekly through August 4.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
Tell me your earliest memory of money
I stole ₦10 from my mum’s purse when I was 10 years old. I was annoyed that she always made me homemade food when my mates got money to buy food at school. I thought she was purposely trying to make me “uncool”, so I took matters into my own hands. This was around 1998, and ₦10 wasn’t small money.
I used part of the money to buy tampico and puff-puff on the first day. But my teacher noticed I bought snacks instead of eating the usual rice at my desk and gave amebo to my mum when she came to pick me up. I had to confess where I got the money. My mum made sure a teacher flogged me every day on the assembly ground for a whole week.
She also made me wear a cardboard placard that read, “I am a thief” on my uniform. She wanted me to wear it for a week, but my teacher begged on my behalf, and I only wore it for one day.
But that one day ehn? I was so embarrassed. My classmates called me “I am a thief” for the whole term. That was the first and last time I stole anything — not even meat from the pot.
I guess it’s safe to assume your mum was strict
Both parents were very strict, and their disciplinary methods sometimes bordered on abuse. There was a lot of flogging and creative punishments whenever my siblings and I misbehaved.
My parents were pastors and held their three children to high standards. I’m also the firstborn, so the expectation was times a hundred.
For example, I couldn’t collect monetary gifts from people in church even though we really needed the money. My parents thought it’d trigger the love of money in me — which, according to the Bible, is the root of all evil.
Were things hard at home?
Very. My mum wasn’t a full-time pastor like my dad; she had a provision store, and we lived on the sales from the store.
My dad got a salary from the church, but it mustn’t have been much because he occasionally borrowed money from my mum’s business.
I was once sent out of school in primary five because we hadn’t paid school fees. I later found out it wasn’t the first time my school fee had been delayed, but the teachers didn’t punish me out of respect for my dad.
I really hated not having enough money, though. I saw how important money was, and it didn’t make sense that admitting a need for money equalled sinning against God. So, I decided to find ways to make money as soon as I was old enough.
When was “old enough”?
As soon as I got into the university and no longer lived under my parent’s roof. I got into uni in 2007 and immediately started hustling.
The first thing I did to make money was serve as the class rep for my level.
They pay class reps now?
Haha, no. But it gave me an opportunity to make money. Lecturers were always selling handouts, and I’d sometimes add small money to the price. That didn’t work all the time, though. Most times, the lecturers announced the price of handouts in class.
I also made money from photocopying the handouts. This only worked for an elderly lecturer. For instance, I’d tell her that only 100 students paid when 105 did. Then, I’d make five extra copies for the other students. Photocopies could cost about ₦500, and each handout could be about ₦1500. I’m not proud of it, but I made some money.
What were you doing when you weren’t selling handouts?
Everything. When I was in 200 level, I started playing instruments for two different churches on Sundays — learning how to play instruments was one benefit of growing up as a pastor’s kid. I was paid in transport fare and made between ₦3k – ₦4k weekly. I also had stints assisting the cyber cafe and photographer guys on campus for money. My parents sent me ₦10k/month, and I just used to jama jama everything together to survive.
I didn’t really do much for money in my last two years in uni because I unexpectedly became more involved at church. The pastor also put me on a ₦20k/month allowance to support me, so that helped.
Why do you say “unexpectedly”?
I didn’t really like the idea of church growing up. I didn’t like how seriously my parents took it and the fact that we didn’t have money. So, I thought becoming independent would allow me to be as far away from the church as I wanted.
Ironically, I gave my life to Christ and became closer to the church. In fact, I was an executive of the corpers’ fellowship during NYSC in 2013.
I also helped start a fellowship at the secondary school where I worked during my service year. The school paid me a ₦5k stipend in addition to NYSC’s ₦19800 allowance, and I used my income to support indigent students. I was posted to the north-central, and there were a lot of students like that.
But what were you living on?
I don’t know. I just know I didn’t starve. Many of my students’ parents were farmers and they sent me foodstuff. I also lived in a hostel the school provided. There was accommodation and food. What else did I need?
After NYSC in 2014, God led me to volunteer with a student fellowship in the state where I served. Apart from spreading the gospel to students in secondary and tertiary institutions, the fellowship also organised training programs to help the students become well-rounded individuals and career professionals. I resonated with the vision, so I joined.
Did it come with a salary?
More like a stipend. ₦20k/month. I lived in the fellowship’s office, so once again, accommodation was sorted. Those were simple days — I was doing what I loved and didn’t have to worry about money.
I had very minimal expenses, so I saved most of what I made — except when I had to support students or anyone in need.
Were you saving towards a goal?
Not really. But in 2016, I used my entire savings — about ₦250k — to purchase land and other necessary materials to farm yam and rear chickens. It made sense because everyone else had a farm. Besides, I wanted something to do with all the extra time I had.
I wouldn’t say I made money from the farm because I hardly sold any produce. I either ate my harvest or used it to support other people.
This happened until 2021 when I left the fellowship.
Why did you leave?
I clashed with management over their decision-making. It felt like some people sat in an office and decided what the volunteers would do without leaving room for feedback. It took the joy out of the work, and I thought it was dangerous to approach God’s work feeling cheated.
I wanted to stay back in the north-central, but the Fulani herdsmen issue was getting worse, and I was about to get married. My fiancée lived in the west and wasn’t thrilled about moving there, so I joined her instead. I sold my farm for ₦300k, most of which went into our wedding expenses.
Did you have a plan to make money?
I planned to get a job, which turned out to be much harder than I imagined. I didn’t have formal work experience, so I got rejections left and right. For the first six months, my wife and I relied on her ₦150k operations manager salary. Then, I finally got a teaching job that paid ₦80k/month in 2022.
The salary wasn’t great, but my wife and I pooled resources together and made it work. We’d been living in her room and parlour apartment since we got married, but we moved to a ₦180k/year two-bedroom apartment towards the end of 2022.
Things were looking up
Yeah. But I felt like something was missing — like I wasn’t really where God wanted me to be. I prayed a bit and discussed it with my wife, and realised God still wanted me in ministry.
Around the same time, the pastor at the church my wife and I attended approached me and said he felt led to ask me to join the pastorate as a youth minister. We’d only been part of the church workforce for less than a year, and it seemed strange I’d become a minister so quickly. But I knew it was God directing me, so I accepted the role.
What does being a youth minister entail?
It’s like being a junior pastor. I don’t get paid because I’m not a full-time pastor, but I do everything a pastor does. I’m at church twice weekly and on Sunday for services.
My schedule worked pretty well while I was a teacher, but I got another job towards the end of 2023. Now, it’s harder to juggle both 9-5 and my work at the church.
What’s the job role?
I work in marketing for a drinks company; one of my wife’s relatives helped me get the job. My role requires me to travel for market activation, so I’m not always available for weekly church services.
I love the marketing part of the job, and it feels like I should’ve been on this career path much earlier. The salary is also good — ₦250k/month. It’s just that my conscience often pricks me about doing this job.
Why?
The company also produces alcoholic drinks, and I sometimes feel like I’m directly responsible for marketing something that has led so many lives astray. I don’t primarily cover the alcoholic drink category, but I occasionally have to work with the product.
My senior pastor and wife think I’m overthinking it, but I’m not sure I am. If not for the fact that I have a child now and my responsibilities have doubled, I’d have resigned. Even that reasoning increases my guilt. I’m working at a company I feel ashamed to talk about, and to make it worse, it’s taking over my time and reducing my availability for God. Is the need for money now overcoming my desire to be right with my God? Maybe my parents were right after all.
Hmmm
I’m praying to find something else soon because I don’t know how to explain to my wife that I want to quit without another job lined up. She’s an understanding woman, but I’m trying to be fair to her. She deserves to relax without constantly thinking about how to manage money. It’s not like the ₦250k even does much in this economy, but it’s better than ₦80k.
Fingers crossed you find something soon. But have you considered what you’ll do if you don’t?
I’ve thought about saving to start a poultry business I can fall back on while I figure out what to do with my career. But it almost doesn’t make sense to start a business in this economy.
Just last week, someone complained about how the price of chicken feed had almost doubled within a few weeks. What if I think I need ₦200k to start, then finish saving and realise I now need ₦400k? Planning is almost impossible in this country.
For now, I’ll just focus on trusting God to lead me. I’ve gone from being willing to do anything to make money to relying totally on Him for my finances. I’m currently at a point where it feels like I’m relying on money to live, and I need to leave this point and go back to relying on Him. I just need to retrace my steps.
Hopefully, you find that soon. Can you share a breakdown of your monthly expenses?
I have about ₦80k in my savings, but it’s more of an emergency fund. In Nigeria, one sickness or accident can carry all your money away. My dad is late, but my mum is elderly, and I constantly worry she’ll suddenly need medical care at any point. So, I like to prepare for any eventuality.
What’s one thing you want but can’t afford right now?
An inverter. It’s interesting that I spend more on fueling my generator than I do on electricity bills. And with all the different news we’re hearing about whether or not the fuel subsidy has truly been removed, the cost of fuel will only get higher. But I don’t have ₦2m to spend on an inverter right now.
How would you rate your financial happiness on a scale of 1-10?
3. I’m earning more than I ever have, but I don’t feel fulfilled. I was happier when I was earning ₦20k and doing what I loved.
If you’re interested in talking about your Naira Life story, this is a good place to start.
Have you ever felt guilty about making money? Most people live by a moral code that also applies to how they think about money: the morally acceptable and unacceptable ways to make and spend money. The man in this week’s #NairaLife is a pastor who’s currently earning more money than he ever has. However, he believes his income source is morally unacceptable.
The second story in today’s newsletter also touches on moral codes. We asked people what they thought about marrying for love or money and got interesting responses.
Let’s get into it.
In this letter:
#NairaLife: The Pastor Navigating Guilt and a Marketing Career
To Marry for Love or Money? — 6 Married Nigerians Share Their Experiences
Aunty M: I’m a Student. How Do I Start Investing?
#ZikokoMoneyVideo: Would You Abandon Your Career To Marry Into Wealth?
QUIZ: Does Money Like You?
Where The Money At?!
The #NairaLife of a Pastor Navigating Guilt and a Marketing Career
Before the 36-year-old pastor in this #NairaLife started moonlighting as a marketing professional, he had stints as a teacher, farmer and mission volunteer. At ₦250k/month, he’s currently earning more than ever.
The only problem? He believes his job is affecting his relationship with God.
Jollof+ is a cutting-edge savings app providing up to 21% net interest rate with no hidden charges. Designed to help combat inflation, Jollof+ offers personalized saving features, ensuring steady financial growth for users.
To Marry for Love or Money? — 6 Married Nigerians Share Their Experiences
A Nollywood actress recently said they wished they’d married for money instead of love, sparking a new debate on social media.
Curious, we spoke to married Nigerians, and they talked about marrying for either love or money and what they’d do differently if they could have a do-over.
Hi, Aunty M.
I am a fourth year student, and I’m interested in personal finance and financial literacy. I’m quite confused on how to start investing and suitable options for a student. I’m not a fan of saving; I believe investing is way more profitable. There’s also the decline of the naira to consider. How do I start investing and suitable/profitable options for a student? – Adebbie
Hi Adebbie.
I love your interest in personal finance! You’re doing well. There are so many ways to invest. You can invest in stocks, real estate, exchange traded funds, cryptocurrency, bonds, index funds, and in mutual funds, just to name a few. You have to choose the one that is suitable for your risk level. I’d suggest thinking about it in five steps.
Step One: Educate Yourself: Before you start investing, take the time to learn about the basics of investing, including different asset classes, risk management, and investment strategies.
Step Two: Choose a brokerage account. In order to buy and sell stocks, you need to have a brokerage that facilitates that transaction. In Nigeria, you can consider Trove, Chaka and Bamboo to name a few.
Step Three: Fund the account. Choose a realistic amount of your monthly salary that you can consistently invest. Is it ₦10k, ₦20k, ₦30k? Automate this transfer so that you’re always putting money towards your goals.
Step Four: Consider purchasing ETFs which are funds that a professional fund manager has created. There are a variety of funds available and you can choose the one that works for you. A good place to start is a fund that tracks the S&P 500, which is the 500 largest companies in the United States.
Step Five: Sit back and monitor your portfolio. Remember, your money will fluctuate up and down in the stock market, but you are investing for the long term. You don’t make money until you sell and you also don’t lose money until you sell. Have patience and keep your in for the long term.
We can’t say we’re about the money and not actually help you find the money.
So we’ve compiled a list of job opportunities for you. Make sure you share this with anyone who might need it because in this community, we look out for each other.
A Sallah break is far from complete if your line-up of fun activities doesn’t include movie time with your loved ones. We know this, so we’ve compiled a list of some cool Islamic movies that’ll teach you one or two things about the deen.
“Crashing Eid”
This 2023 series should be on your radar if you’re up for some romcom moments with your Habibi. Crashing Eid follows the love story of Razan and her British-Pakistani fiancé, who crashes the family’s Eid party. The four-episode series stars Hamza Haq, Summer Shesha, and Yasir Alsaggaf. It’s available to stream on Netflix.
“The Message”
Released in 1976, The Message, also known as Al-Risalah, is a classic for Muslim audiences worldwide. The movie depicts the early years of Islam and the Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) and dramatises the acceptance and rejections the Prophet faced while trying to spread the gospel of Islam. The Message stars Anthony Quinn, Irene Papas, and Garrick Hagon. It’s available to stream on YouTube.
“Omar”
Omar is a 30-episode historical drama series based on the life of Umar ibn Al-Khattab, one of the closest companions of the Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) and the second Caliph of Islam. The 2012 series dramatises various events during Al-Khattab’s life, from his pre-Islamic days until his assassination. It’s available to stream on YouTube.
“Facing Mecca“
You should grab your tissue for this one because it’s deep like that. Released in 2017, Facing Mecca follows the story of a Syrian pensioner, Fareed, whose wife lost her battle with cancer. Fareed is bent on burying his wife in accordance with Muslim traditions but has to navigate the world of Swiss bureaucracy. It’s available to stream on Netflix.
“Bilal: A New Breed of Hero“
If you’re up for some animation with the kids, this title should be on your binge list for Sallah. Bilal is inspired by the true-life story of Bilal ibn Rabah, a companion of the Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) and one of the earliest converts to Islam. The animation follows Bilal’s journey from slavery to freedom and how he rose to a position of prominence in 632 AD. The voice cast features Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Jacob Latimore, and Thomas Ian Nicholas, among others. Bilal is available to stream on Netflix.
“Mosul“
This adrenaline-inducing war film takes place in the titular city of Mosul. Released in 2020, the movie follows the story of a police officer, Kawa, who nabs ISIS smugglers but has to battle his way through ISIS fighters. Luckily, an elite Iraqi squad rescues the police officer, but he’s then involved in the Battle of Mosul, which is often referred to as one of the largest and deadliest military operations since the 2003 invasion of Iraq. The movie stars Adam Bessa, Suhail Dabbach, and Hayat Kamille. It’s available to stream on Netflix.
“My Name is Khan“
This one is for the Bollywood lovers. Directed by Karan Johar, My Name is Khan captures the sad reality of Muslim immigrants in post-9/11 America. The movie tells the story of a Muslim man with Asperger’s syndrome who goes on a journey to meet the President of the United States and clear his name after being wrongfully accused of terrorism. Bollywood legend Shah Rukh Khan plays the titular character. It’s available to stream on Netflix.
