Futura Bold

Futura book sans-serif

Futura demi sans-serif

Futura extra-bold sans-serif

Futura heavy sans-serif

Futura light sans-serif

Futura medium sans-serif

Gaya

Omoooo. Omoooo. There is actually no better way to start this letter because I don tire. It is the 13th of June, and my salary has finished. I have taken a loan of 100k just to survive the rest of June, and I am already down by 20% of that sum.&nbsp;

How about you? Oh, were you looking for the usual pleasantries, the ‘how are you and how is your family?’ Guy, I know you are not fine. I am not fine. We are not fine. We are all in this same boat.

Just today, I sat down and genuinely wondered whether this legit hustle, this waking up every day, showing up, trying, grinding, doing the right things, can actually lead me to where I want to be because I am nowhere near where I thought I would be at this age, and I am getting older every single day.

I know you can relate. I know because you are here reading a letter addressed to broke young Nigerians, and you did not click away. So let me tell you what it actually looks like from where I am standing. Maybe you will see yourself in it.

It looks like checking your bank app multiple times and hoping for a miracle money to drop. It looks like saying "I'm not really hungry" when someone suggests a restaurant, while you are actually starving, because you have already done the calculation in your head, and the calculation said no.&nbsp;

It looks like having a full conversation with yourself about whether you can justify buying data because you need data to apply for the jobs that will give you money to buy data. The irony is not lost on you. You are just too tired to laugh at it.

It looks like sending "I'll pay you back by the weekend" and genuinely meaning it every single time, and the weekend coming and going, and you and your friend both pretending that conversation did not happen because you are still friends and you both understand that Nigeria is doing this to everyone simultaneously. It looks like avoiding your phone because three different people are waiting for money you do not have, and you care about all of them, but you have absolutely nothing to give.

It looks like wanting to eat shawarma and doing the mental calculation, then closing your eyes and drinking water instead. Water that, depending on the day, you may have also had to budget for.

This is the part nobody posts about. Everyone is posting the wins, the glow-ups, the new jobs, the relocations, the things that look like progress from the outside, and you are happy for them, genuinely, mostly, except for the three seconds every time when you look at your own life and wonder what is taking so long, what you are missing, and whether you are the problem.

Oya, let's calm down. Let me tell you something true.

I need to say this loudly and clearly because I know you are not hearing it enough. Waking up every day and deciding to face the world is not a small thing. Especially not in Nigeria, where you wake up to news of school abductions, bandit attacks, fuel prices that increased again, and a political situation that makes you question everything. The environment alone is enough to break a person. The fact that you are still here, still trying, still showing up, that is nothing. That is everything.

So the first thing I need you to do is stop treating your survival like it is the bare minimum. Give yourself credit for still being in the game because a lot of people have quietly checked out, and you have not.

The second thing is to stop opening their pages. You know exactly whose page I am talking about. The one that makes you put your phone down, feeling like you are behind. You are not behind. You are on your own timeline, in your own story, with your own starting point and your own obstacles that nobody is posting about. Comparison is going to steal what little peace you have left, and you cannot afford that right now. Protect your mind as if it were the last money in your account.

Third thing: talk to somebody. Not to perform your struggle, not to find someone who has it worse so you feel better, just to say out loud that things are hard right now. There is something about saying it to another human being that makes it slightly more bearable. Your broke friend who gets it. Your one person who will not judge you. Find them and be honest. You do not have to carry this in silence just because everyone else is also carrying it in silence.

And the last thing, rest without guilt. I know that sounds impossible when you feel like you should be doing more, hustling harder, figuring it out faster, but a tired brain cannot problem-solve. Give yourself permission to stop, even for an evening, even for one morning, where you do not think about money. You are allowed.

The salary is never enough, I know. You have scraped your savings for the sixth time this year. You couldn't afford the shoe, the wig, the course, the small luxury that was supposed to be your reward for surviving another month. I know all of this.

At the risk of sounding like those motivational accounts that tell you to aspire to perspire and wake up at 4 am to manifest your destiny, I’ll tell you this: you sef go make am. People who keep going, who stay honest, who keep trying even when the trying feels pointless, eventually find themselves somewhere they did not expect.

And if what you are doing is genuinely not working, you might want to think about it. Change something. Try something different. There is no trophy for suffering in the same direction, but if you are just in the hard middle, the part that comes before things shift, stay. Just stay. We are all in this pot of soup together, managing the heat, waiting for something to turn.

This letter was written for you. Now pass it on.

If someone in your life needs to hear this today, your friend who has been quiet lately, your colleague who said they were fine in a way that meant they were not fine, your group chat that has not spoken in three days because everyone is in their feelings, <a href="https://drive.google.com/uc?export=download&amp;id=1Fs9gJke9-b0HSNUFSbcXjrTzFHFH3ND7">download this letter</a> and send it to them.&nbsp;

We do not have to be okay to take care of each other. We just have to show up.

You are doing enough. I promise you are doing enough.

From a fellow young broke Nigerian. I see you. I am You.

I checked my account balance this morning and laughed. What else can a person even do? This is my letter to every broke young Nigerian who is somehow still holding it together.

Psst… We’ve Got the Good Stuff.

read more