It is a beautiful Thursday. Or at least it should be — except your ₦10,000 now behaves like ₦1,500, Noodles is suddenly a luxury item, and one cup of rice is beginning to act like it graduated from Harvard. You step out to buy groceries, and your spirit returns home before your body because you cannot understand why tomatoes are looking at you like you’re not their mate.
Once upon a time, you could walk into a market with ₦5,000 and come out with ingredients for jollof rice, stew, and probably even snacks for later. Now, that same amount only buys onions, regret, and a motivational speech from the seller.
Everyday things have become sacred. Bread is now a delicacy. Garri is suddenly shy. Eggs are behaving like they need bodyguards. Even sachet water has started acting brand new. In fact, you start to question your lifestyle. “Should I be eating this much?” “Is it really necessary to drink water three times a day?” “Who told me to be brushing my teeth morning and night when toothpaste is now this expensive?”
The worst part is how prices change like mood swings. You walk into a shop today, see a bottle of groundnut oil at ₦2,800. You frown, leave, come back two days later to buy it out of hunger, and it’s now ₦3,400. The shopkeeper just shrugs and says, “Dollar went up.” At this point, we’re all basically forex traders, monitoring exchange rates just to plan dinner.
Transportation doesn’t help either. Whether you enter keke, okada, or bus, you’re paying more for less comfort. You hold onto ₦500 tightly, thinking it will take you to two different places. Joke’s on you — it ends halfway, and you have to start begging the driver like you’re negotiating dowry. Petrol price goes up, and suddenly even your legs are threatening to resign from walking. You begin to consider remote work, not for peace or productivity, but because transport fare is giving real heartbreak.
Let’s talk about data. Yes, internet data, our new best friend and biggest betrayer. You load ₦2,000, blink twice, open Instagram and scroll through three reels — boom. Message from MTN: “You have used 95% of your data.” How? When? You didn’t even watch anything in HD. Meanwhile, your network is moving slower than NEPA during rainy season, but they still chop your data with pride.
But while the price of everything is going up, salaries are sitting still like a lazy landlord. In fact, some are reducing. You spend more, earn less, and still manage to show up smiling. You attend weddings, buy aso-ebi, spray money like you’re Dangote’s niece — but deep down, you’re calculating what you’ll eat next week. Being a Nigerian adult right now is like being a magician. You keep pulling out miracles from empty pockets.
Despite it all, Nigerians continue to adapt in ways that are both inspiring and funny. Someone will price meat from ₦5,000 to ₦1,800 with confidence. Another person will turn two tomatoes into a pot of stew. People now do mental math like accountants in front of suya spots: “If I remove ₦500 here, balance this there… I can still buy zobo.” Everyone has become a financial analyst out of survival.
We now take budgeting seriously. “No impulse spending” is no longer a TikTok trend, it is survival strategy. You write a shopping list that looks like it’s for a family of ten, but come back with two plastic bags and silent tears. You cut costs, cut cravings, even cut friends who always invite you out when you’re trying to save. You start drinking more water, not because of fitness, but because you’re hungry and water is still cheaper than food — for now.
And in the midst of all this, you still see people pushing through. Small businesses are springing up. People are learning new skills online. Someone is turning puff-puff into a catering empire. Others are taking courses in tech, content creation, and digital marketing. Nigerians are finding a way. We always do.
But let’s be honest — it is exhausting. The daily stress of calculating every naira, planning meals like a military operation, and adjusting your dreams to match your wallet is not normal. You want to plan a vacation, but even visiting your cousin in another state now looks like an international trip. You want to start a skincare routine, but you’re now asking yourself, “Can Dettol also moisturize?”
And yet… here you are. Still moving. Still smiling. Still finding joy in small things — a good meal, a funny meme, a 1-minute power supply that lets you charge your phone. It may not be perfect, but it’s something.
So, the next time you feel overwhelmed by how expensive everything has become, remember that you’re not alone. Everyone is fighting the same fight, side-eyeing onions, walking past shops slowly to calculate prices, and smiling politely at waiters while internally checking their bank balance. We’re all just trying to make it — one expensive tomato at a time.
Thanks again for reading this week’s Thursday Chronicles.
If your wallet is on life support, your pocket is recovering from trauma, or your heart broke at the fuel station, don’t worry, you’re in the club. We meet again next week, same place, same truth, same hilarious therapy. Until then, drink water, breathe deeply, and try not to shout at your bank app.
