I may sound harsh, but the truth needs to be said.
Whenever someone tells me they’ve been jobless for years, I genuinely struggle to understand it. Most times, when you ask what they’ve been doing with their time, they’ll say “nothing,” while their spouses or family members shoulder all the responsibilities. It’s not lack of opportunity — many people are simply not doing enough.
Take my electrician, for example. He’s just 26, a graduate, and when white-collar jobs didn’t come, he went back to the skill he learned while growing up. After school, he worked under someone to sharpen his knowledge. Last week he worked. On Saturday, he worked. Today again, he came to fix a small issue for me. Each job takes him less than two hours, and he bills between ₦30,000 and ₦50,000. When I called him earlier, he said he was finishing a job in Tradefair before heading my way.
My plumber? Same story. Young, educated, hardworking — and billing ₦50,000 per job.
Do the math. Two jobs a day is about ₦100,000. That’s ₦500,000 to ₦600,000 a week.
My nail technician once told me that even on her slow days, she still makes around ₦300,000 — and home service brings in even more.
I can’t forget my own humble beginning. Some people here will remember when I was selling plantain. I would go to Arena in Oshodi to buy a dozen bunches, pay for space, and in the evening display them in my estate. One day I had a lot of ripe plantains and feared they would spoil. It was a Sunday. I carried everything to the Redeemed Church on my street, positioned myself opposite the entrance, and the moment service ended — rush! I sold every single one in under an hour. That encouraged me to increase from one dozen to three dozen before I eventually found my way into real estate.
There’s money in Lagos — if you’re hardworking and unashamed. You won’t starve if you’re willing to work. At the very least, you’ll make enough to cook a pot of okro soup.
But many people look down on certain jobs because they believe those jobs are beneath them. Yet these so-called “dirty” jobs are feeding families and building houses. My mechanic owns his home. The woman selling lace owns hers. This same electrician is already building. And let’s not forget my son’s barber — he relocated to Canada through his barbing profession.
Skills are gold. Travel abroad and see how skilled workers are respected. Nobody is ashamed to say “I’m a plumber,” “I’m an electrician,” or “I’m a mechanic.” But here, people mock those professions and then wonder why they remain broke.
Many of these artisans you pity are landlords both in the city and in their villages. Their children attend good schools. But you — jobless for years, no skill, no hustle, no income. You stay indoors all day, sleeping, scrolling your phone, eating, and consoling yourself with that tired line: “Grace differs.”
No — you’re just being lazy.
Even my dry cleaner is doing well! Everywhere you look, people are using their skills to climb out of poverty.
2026 is around the corner, yet some people are still giving excuses. Saying things like, “A whole me? Do that kind of job?”
A whole you… who exactly are you?
People act this way only because someone is feeding them and paying their rent.
Mschewwwwwwwww.
— Written by Chinenye Azubuike
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