Welcome back to Thursday Chronicles, your weekly ticket to relatable chaos, unfiltered wisdom, and that kind of laugh that makes you hold your chest like you just climbed a bodiless okada. If you’re scrolling through this with your salary already crying on day 3, or you’ve just opened Instagram to see yet another 22-year-old buying a Benz, take a seat. This gist is for you.
There’s a strange clock ticking in the heads of young Nigerians. It starts around 19, gets louder at 21, and by 25, it’s screaming. It’s the pressure to blow, not spiritually, not with the wind, but financially, socially, visibly. If by 25 you haven’t “made it,” society starts treating you like expired milk.Somehow, blowing has become a race, and everybody is sprinting. The problem? Nobody knows where the finish line is, or who started the race.
You’re just there, trying to figure out your life, build your career, manage your mental health, and still find time to drink enough water, when suddenly, you’re told your mates are flying first class and launching skincare brands in Dubai.You open your phone and the pressure slaps you across the screen. One guy is 23 with a Range Rover. A girl is 22 and owns three apartments.
Somebody else your age just posted a “soft life” birthday shoot in Paris with a caption that says “God did.” And there you are, sitting in your self-contain, calculating how to make a loaf of bread last till Saturday.The craziest part? Most of these people are not even faking it. Some are truly doing well. But what they don’t show you is the part where they cried for five years, failed twice, or got lucky in a way that isn’t replicable. They just drop the highlight reel, and suddenly you’re asking yourself: “Am I normal?”And then, it gets worse.
Your parents start asking coded questions like:“This your friend that just bought car, what does he do again?”“You remember the Adeboye girl? She’s married now o. They say her husband is doing well.”Translation: Why are you not doing well yet?But what even is “well”? Social media has redefined it as anything flashy. If you’re not driving something, living in Lekki, or casually flying out of the country, you’ve not “arrived.”
Never mind that you’re working two jobs, helping your family, paying rent, learning new skills, and showing up for life every day. If it’s not giving luxury, it’s not considered success.That’s the danger of pressure. It makes you question real progress. It makes you feel like you’re doing nothing, when you’re actually doing the most. It makes you chase timelines that were never yours to begin with.
The truth is, success doesn’t follow one path. Some people blow at 19, some at 35, and some never even “blow” in the way the world defines it, but they live full, happy lives. There are late bloomers, slow starters, quiet growers, and people whose glory shows up just in time. The only crime is comparing your own pace to someone else’s Instagram update.
Also, let’s not ignore how this pressure is leading many into very questionable choices. People now live for aesthetics instead of reality. You’re renting a house you can’t afford, buying clothes you’ll return after a photo shoot, and borrowing money to look rich for people who won’t attend your wedding. All because you don’t want to look “left behind.”But guess what? Real life is not a sprint, it’s a marathon. And in this marathon, survival is part of success.
Every day you get up and try again, you’re winning. Every moment you choose growth over gimmicks, you’re doing fine. You don’t need to post it to prove it.You may not have blown yet, but you’re not behind. You’re building. You’re learning. You’re becoming. And one day, everything will align, not because you rushed, but because you stayed consistent, focused, and true to yourself.
It’s okay to want nice things. Dream big. Work hard. Manifest your goals. But never let anyone rush your journey. There is no prize for “richest under 25.” Life doesn’t end at 30. If your destiny says 38, let it breathe. No be everybody go trend at 22.
Thanks again for riding with me on Thursday Chronicles, the only place where we say the things that matter, and also make them sound funny.Whether you’ve blown, you’re about to blow, or you’re still trying to collect matches to start the fire, just know this: you’re not late. You’re right on time for your life.
See you again next Thursday — same time, same gist energy, same stubborn love for our unpredictable Nigerian reality. Until then, take your time, drink water, and tell pressure: “Not today.”
