Money can disappear faster than anyone expects.
For some Nigerians, growing up wealthy only made the fall harder. Beyond losing privileges, they were left with something far more difficult to shake: a bad relationship with money.
We spoke to six Nigerians about what happened when their families lost their wealth, and about the habits, anxieties, and emotional scars they’re still carrying today.
When I was growing up, my dad worked as a building contractor in Abuja. We lived in a massive duplex, had several cars and household staff. I never saw my parents discuss money because there was always an abundance.
Then all of a sudden, in my early teens, the contracts dried up, and my family began to struggle. By the time I was 15, we’d moved from our duplex in Asokoro to a tiny bungalow in Kubwa. For the first time in my life, I shared a room with my brothers, and it was a very harsh shift.
The worst part was having to manage food. We went from having an overflowing fridge to almost nothing. There were days we ate only once. It deeply affected my relationship with food.
I earn decent money now, but I still stockpile food in ridiculous quantities like I’m preparing for a drought. My mum thinks it’s funny that I buy so much food; she doesn’t know that a part of me is terrified of waking up one day and finding that everything is gone again.
My father was a very wealthy importer of goods when he was alive. We travelled every holiday, attended expensive private schools and constantly received visitors at home.
But when my father died right after I finished secondary school, everything changed. I saw our relatives fight over my dad’s property like dogs, and all our family friends abandoned us. It’s been rough for us since then. I had to give up my dream of studying abroad and went to a federal university instead.
It hasn’t been easy. The economy is even harsher now, and sometimes I wonder to myself if I would still be suffering like this if my dad were still alive. Aside from my immediate family, I don’t think anyone really has my back. Most people are only with you when things are going well for you.
My dad owned a successful business in Lagos throughout the late 1990s and early 2000s. We weren’t billionaires, but there was always more than enough money. I’m not sure why, but during the mid 2000’s the business slowly died.
The transition happened over a few years, but it felt sudden to me as a child. One day, we were going abroad on family vacations, and the next, my parents were keeping my siblings and me at home because we couldn’t pay school fees.
Watching my parents lose control of their finances left a mark on me. Today, I save almost obsessively. I have emergency funds for my emergency fund. My friends think I’m paranoid because I always talk about preparing for the worst. And maybe I am. But once you’ve gone from having a full plate to suddenly starving, it’s hard to believe stability is permanent.
I grew up with a single mum who owned a big supermarket in Ibadan. We lived comfortably until my mother suddenly fell ill. Between the high treatment costs and bouts of hospitalisation, the business collapsed within a year and our lifestyle changed dramatically. We had to say goodbye to the cars and house staff. That was also the first year we went without buying anything at Christmas. It was the first time in my life I started being aware of money and the fact that we didn’t have it.
My mum started over when she got better, but things weren’t the same as they were before. She became very strict with how we spent money after that. I had to account for every extra kobo I spent, and if she felt that my reason wasn’t good enough, she chastised me for it.
Today, I can afford nice things, but every purchase that isn’t absolutely necessary feels like a crime. Even small things like ordering myself a meal instead of cooking will make me feel guilty and anxious for days.
My family wasn’t billionaire-rich, but we were very comfortable. My dad was a top executive at a multinational beverage company and made more than enough to take care of not only our immediate family but also our extended family.
Things were going great until my dad suddenly decided to quit his job in 2007 and start a business. It failed, but he didn’t stop. He squandered all his money on business ideas that failed one after another. Soon, my parents were borrowing money to make ends meet, and we had to sell off our house to offset some of my dad’s debts.
We could barely do any of the things we used to do, including paying school fees, travelling, or buying nice things. It’s ruined my relationship with my father because I just can’t understand why he’d make the decision to quit his job.
I had to learn how to take public transportation to school after we sold off all the cars. Once, I had an accident on a bike that left a large scar on my leg, and every time I see it, I resent my dad all over again. I hope I can forgive him and let it go at some point.
My father used to work with his older brother, and we lived very comfortably as a result. I was too young to know all the details, but the arrangement ended after he got caught diverting funds.
He struck out on his own and tried to start a business, but my father is incredibly lazy. While we became less and less comfortable, I noticed my dad wasn’t passionate about working hard to change our circumstances. Instead, he would put pressure on my mum or force her to borrow money from people for him. He’s a well-known drunk in our street now. I felt helpless watching that, and the minute I could, I started working so I could chip in and take some weight off my mum’s shoulders.
I started out at sixteen as a worker at a photocopy shop, but now I’m a graphic designer and freelance video editor. I’m making good money, but I never rest. I’m always working. My friends joke that I’m incapable of resting, but rest feels dangerous to me. Somewhere in my mind, there’s a voice saying, “If you stop moving, you’ll lose everything and end up like him.”
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