Why We Need a Reality Check

Let’s face it — we like to talk about money in Nigeria like it’s pouring from every corner. Like it's just there, flowing freely, waiting to be grabbed. But here’s the truth most of us don’t say out loud: it’s not. Not really.

We carry on with this illusion of abundance, yet deep down, we know the numbers don’t add up. And the numbers don’t lie.

Nigeria is a massive country, home to over 210 million people. But only 2.4% of Nigerians earn more than ₦200,000 a month. That’s not a typo. Just 2.4%. The remaining 97.6%? They’re earning less — in many cases, much less.

Even within that small 2.4%, a good number are just barely crossing the ₦200k line. They’re not rolling in money. They’re simply trying to stay afloat — one bill, one obligation, one unexpected emergency at a time.

Now, you might say, “But remote work! People are earning in dollars now!” Sure, some are. But let’s be honest — even if we generously estimate that 1.5 to 2 million Nigerians are in that category, it’s still a tiny slice of the pie. A drop in our vast economic ocean.

Let’s bring the conversation back home.

We’ve seen talks about the new minimum wage — ₦70k, ₦77k — numbers that might sound like progress on paper. But not all states are on board, and implementation? That’s another battle entirely.

Let’s break it down further:

- A graduate assistant in a Nigerian university earns somewhere between ₦120k to ₦150k.

- If you’ve got a Master’s degree, maybe you’ll get ₦170k to ₦230k.

- And if you’re rolling with a PhD*, you're probably looking at ₦230k to ₦350k, if you’re lucky.

Now pause and ask yourself — how far can that really go?

And still, somehow, we forget. We forget how steep the climb is for most people. We forget the long, hard road it takes just to earn enough to afford basic comfort. We forget that the economic ladder isn’t just tall — it’s slippery.

Yet, we judge. Quickly. Harshly. We dish out advice and hot takes from behind the veil of our little bubbles — bubbles built on some privilege, some luck, or both.

We have to do better.

Before you talk, write, or hand out career advice like candy, pause. Ask yourself:  

“Am I speaking from empathy or from entitlement?”  

Because real wisdom? It doesn’t shout. It listens. It sees people. It understands struggle.

So yes, Achalugo and Odogwu, chase the big bag. The real one. Go global. Dream wild. Plan smart. Move with sense.

But in your pursuit of more, never lose sight of those still finding their footing. Never confuse luck for superiority. And never, ever look down.

We rise by lifting others — not by forgetting them.

Dalu nu.