Elnathan john, p.5
Elnathan John, page 5
famous or extremely beautiful who has no time to wait for you to search your six pockets and fat
multi-layered wallet for your business card. Get a nice card holder. Or arrange them nicely in your
breast pocket.
Striking up a conversation using business cards is an art that takes you everywhere from doing
business to someone’s bed. Meet a total stranger on a plane and as you look into their eyes, put your
hand in your breast pocket and slide out your business card in time to coincide with ‘Hi, my name is
Emeka. But you can call me Mekus.’ It will not matter if you are as useless to each other as a condom
to an impotent man. A proper introduction is all that counts. They will take your business card and
stare into it pretending to care, by which time you will have gotten their attention. The rest, if you are
smart, will become history.
May the good God who guides all things Nigerian, guide you and your business cards to people who
will bless your hustle.
HOW TO IDENTIFY A MIDDLE-CLASS NIGERIAN
I believe it is time to conclusively tackle the question: who is a member of the Nigerian middle class?
There are several definitions of “middle class”, many not valid for our peculiar context. Also, I don’t
like all that jargon that economists use. I have therefore decided to explain what this thing called
middle class is in Nigeria and which persons would fall into this category. Forget what foreign
economists say. This is the real deal.
The generator
In Nigeria, a person who is able to purchase a generator for personal use and run said generator every
time power goes off is a member of the middle class. Note that this is different from the group of
lower-class people who are able to save to buy generators for their small-scale business like hair
salons or barber shops. Middle class people own a generator at home.
In this category, lower middle class will be people whose generator cannot power all the
appliances in the house and who have to make crucial decisions like whether they will use the
refrigerator or the air conditioner. Not both. The upper middle class are those whose generators can
carry all the appliances they own and who don’t have to worry about the refrigerator being off when
the generator is being turned on. So, in a lower middle-class house, you will likely hear someone
screaming as they try to turn on the noisy generator: ‘Una don off evrytin?’
Phone credit
Mobile telephony is big in Nigeria. Often however, many in the lower classes have need to say that
their “credit” ran out. Sometimes they send those “Please Call Me” messages. God forbid that a
middle-class Nigerian threatens their standing in life and society by sending a “Please Call Me”
message. Members of this class are those who never have to tell you “I could have called you but I
don’t have credit.” They can afford to top up as soon as their credit runs out.
In this category, lower middle class are those who can afford to top up almost immediately but
sometimes have to tell the people they are calling: ‘Please let me go across the road to buy recharge
card, I will call you back.’ (Or better still, ‘Hold on, let me send my house-girl to buy me credit.’) I
know many lower class people use this “I will call you back” line too. But the difference between a
lower-class person and a (lower) middle-class person is that the middle-class person often does go
and buy the credit. The middle-class person calls you back.
The upper-middle-class person in this category is one who never runs out of credit, because they
top up regularly without waiting for it to finish. That is the main difference: lower-middle-class wait
until their credit finishes before running out to buy credit (or using a short code to top up) while the
upper middle class doesn’t need a reason to top up — they are just cool like that.
The cinema
I know that we don’t have a big cinema culture, but at least in our major cities, this is one way to
know persons who are in the middle class. Middle-class Nigerians can afford movie tickets, often for
themselves and their families and/or lovers as frequently as (once or more) every week. While
movies tickets are not completely out of reach for lower-class people, what differentiates the middle
class from others is not only the frequency with which they can go but also the crucial fact that they
can afford the overpriced popcorn that is traditionally part of the cinema experience and don’t need to
smuggle home cooked food into the cinema. While lower-class people can save and go to the cinema
on special occasions like Eid, Easter or Christmas, the middle-class person doesn’t need a special
occasion to go to the cinema. In this category, the upper-middle-class people actually avoid the
cinema on public holidays so as to avoid mixing with the lower-class people who have saved to
enjoy this experience. You can’t be mixing with lower-class people. God did not elevate you for
nothing.
The car
A middle-class Nigerian owns a car. If they do not have a car it is usually because they are saving to
buy a really fancy car and would rather take taxis than go through the stress of driving a problematic
second-hand Japanese car. However, some lower-class people happen upon some cash and buy cars
— like those who are able to save and buy taxis or cars which they use for work, like Uber. There are
cars and there are cars.
While a lower-class person will often abandon their car as soon as fuel scarcity bites hard, the
middle-class person is often able, albeit through much complaining, to buy very expensive fuel from
the black market to keep their car running. During periods of fuel scarcity also, the difference
between the upper and lower middle class becomes clear. The upper-middle-class person will
experience no change in driving habits while the lower-middle-class person will do things like stop
using the air conditioner or turn off the engine in traffic or when they stop at traffic lights. On social
networking sites like Twitter for example, you will find lower-middle-class people tweeting about
their fuel woes and how much they bought a gallon for. Or they will shamelessly put out an SOS
asking who knows where they can get fuel. Upper-middle-class people never do shameful things like
tweet photos of their fuel tank during fuel scarcity or celebrate when they find fuel. This is because
(a) the upper-middle-class god is faithful (b) they are usually connected to someone who can provide
them fuel and never have to queue themselves and (c) they are afraid that if they confess that they do
have fuel, their lower-middle-class friends will beg them for some. And there are many people in this
lower middle class. You help one, they go and brag to all their friends and you find a dozen strangers
begging you for fuel. Because yes, no one brags like lower-middle-class people. To avoid this kind of
situation, it is not uncommon for upper-middle-class people to become hypocrites: join the rest of
Nigeria in complaining about the fuel situation without providing any specifics. In war, you must
practice diversion and deception. The class warfare in Nigeria is real.
DSTV
Cable television is an important aspect of middle-class life in Nigeria. DSTV is one defining
characteristic of Nigeria’s middle class. Again, sometimes, a person from the lower class may
happen upon some money and buy a DSTV satellite dish and decoder. But often the lower-class
person will go some months without a valid subscription. A middle-class person always has a valid
subscription and even when DSTV increases their charges, they will complain and create hashtags to
protest the increase, but go ahead and pay. Because they cannot live without DSTV. The difference
here between the upper and lower middle class is that the upper-middle-class person will never
complain about subscriptions and will always have the premium bouquet. The lower-middle-class
person changes bouquets depending on their finances. And they always, always complain.
Connections
Many Nigerians try to better their lives, but often, in the absence of real power, they leave matters to
God. The middle class, while still cherishing the immense power of God, know the truth in the
saying: God helps those who help themselves.
A middle-class Nigerian is one who knows a person in government or authority who can change
the course of events in their favour. It can be admission into university for their children, the fast
tracking of an application or other processes, or even buying bread which is in high demand from a
crowded supermarket. A middle-class person prays first and then looks for someone who can write
them a note that can work wonders. Because God works through mysterious middlemen. What
differentiates the upper-middle-class Nigerian from the lower middle class are the degrees of
separation between them and the person(s) with real power. So, for example, while a lower-middle-
class person may have to go to their uncle who knows an ex-local government chairman who knows
one of the members of the governing council of a university who can speak to the vice chancellor for
their child’s admission, an upper-middle-class person may have been classmates with the Governor’s
wife and can beg her directly to include their child’s name on the list the Governor sends to the Vice
Chancellor for admission.
International travel
Nigerians of all social classes love to travel. Yes, they may all be travelling for different reasons, but
they all at least try to travel. While many in the lower class may not be able to afford to travel or meet
visa requirements, a few do, either smuggling their way to Europe and finding a way to stay illegally
or taking the dangerous trip by sea or desert. Middle-class Nigerians, however, take pride in their
travels. They invest in their travels. They talk about where they have been and show off items they
bought from abroad.
In this category, one difference between the lower and upper-middle-class Nigerian is that the
lower-middle-class Nigerian is more noisy about their travels, from the visa application process to
talking about the bags and shoes they bought in Dubai. For every visa a lower-middle-class person
has, they have applied for four. They are relentless and throw dignity to the wind until they get the
visa they need to travel. If they couldn’t get the US or UK visa, they will try Malaysia. If they don’t
get that, they will try Dubai or South Africa. And they will keep coming back until the US or UK sees
the dozen Asian visas on their passport and gives them that visa. Often, a conversation between two
lower-middle-class persons will consist of sharing tales about visa application or asking each other
what visas they have and how long it took to finally get them. A visa is life for the lower-middle-
class Nigerian. An upper-middle-class Nigerian however, might have already schooled abroad. Yes,
maybe in Cyprus or Ukraine, but to most Nigerians schooling abroad is schooling abroad. So they
have gotten the visa panic out of their system. They travel noiselessly and probably post pictures of
their vacations just so their friends can keep up with them. The lower-middle-class Nigerian will turn
on their internet location as soon as they leave the plane so that no one on Twitter or Facebook will
doubt their travels or their middle-class status. No one fears losing their status like the lower-middle-
class Nigerian. No one brags like the lower-middle-class Nigerian.
Lower-middle-class Nigerian conversations are peppered with phrases like:
“When I was in London (or Hoostun Tehzahs or Atlanta or Dubai or Tchicago or Europe…)”
“That’s not how they do it in London (or Hoostun Tehzahs or Atlanta or Dubai or Tchicago or
Europe…)”
I could go on and on. If you belong to one of these categories and have not previously considered
yourself a middle-class Nigerian because of some silly criteria from some foreign economist, I urge
you to claim it. Claim it and celebrate it. And if you are in the lower-middle-class, I pray that God
blesses you and lifts you into the upper-middle-class. Because, trust me, there is nothing that the
Nigerian God cannot do. He can make one of your friends get into power and help you get contracts
that will instantly take you from a used Honda to a brand-new Kia or Hyundai. And from that point to
real riches, it is only a matter of time, greed, connections and loyalty. God bless your hustle.
P.S. I know this is difficult, but if God does bless your hustle and you move from lower to upper
middle class, try, try to respect yourself and leave lower-middle-class behaviour behind. Like
bragging. Or talking about your visas. Or how many times you went for “summer”. Or how they do it
in London (or Hoostun Tehzahs or Atlanta or Dubai or Tchicago or Europe…).
P.P.S. I know it seems like I have bad mouthed lower-middle-class people. But here is one great
side of the lower-middle-class Nigerian: they are the most generous. Perhaps because of fear of
becoming poor or desperation to reach upper middle class, the lower-middle-class person regularly
gives money to beggars, especially those who beg in God’s name. They tithe regularly. They will not
risk losing any chance to have their hustle blessed by God. Every donation is an investment in
securing their position in the middle class and possibly bettering it.
God bless lower-middle-class people.
HOW TO BE A MECHANIC
Life is nothing without you. People may run away from you, despise you, but in their hearts they know,
they need you. You are the one who saves the day: the woman stranded with an overheated car in a
hold up, the lover whose car threatens to truncate his hustle, the transporter who needs his cars back
on the road to make money. You get the desperate calls, you see their worried faces. You arrive and
gaze like a prophet into the engine. You spend more time than it actually takes, but you get it done.
Like magic, the car comes back to life. People don’t think about you unless they are in trouble. I am
here to give you the prominence you deserve and teach those who intend to learn the trade just what
they must do.
You need to appear dirty. A mechanic gains nothing by having presentable work clothes. How
else will the car owner know you have worked on his car if he doesn’t have grease stains on his
seats, steering wheel, dashboard, everywhere?
As a mechanic, you must prefer women. Not the restless, jobless ones who pretend to be men and
try to truncate your hustle by coming to sit with you in the workshop and ask, ‘this one, na wetin; that
one na wetin; show me wetin you change’. Not the ones who want to follow you to where you bought
the spare parts. Those ones are bad market. You must avoid them like a debtor avoids his creditor.
When they come tell them you are busy. The women you must prefer are good trusting women who
call you to take their car. Those ones call to monitor progress only asking: ‘dat one na how much?’
And that is all you need to hear, “how much?” That is what puts a smile on your greasy face. That is
when you invent parts and problems that do not exist and inflate the prices of the ones that do. This is
not wrong; your conscience must not judge you. She is only paying for the ease with which she does
business with you. After all do people not go to hotels and buy a bottle of beer for five times the
market value? Why don’t they complain? God will judge those who sit in their offices and say bad
things about you.
The people who come for regular checks or servicing, these ones are not your main target. You do
not make much from the engine oil and oil filter. People who are very careful about their cars like that
are usually stingy. But you need that steady flow of money, so keep them. However, there is a way to
deal with the really stingy ones. Just notice a problem. Tell them that, it is not so serious, but in the
near future it will need to be worked on. Even though you have told him that it is OK for now, you
have already planted the seeds in his heart. Forget to tie some bolt or tie it loosely. In about a week it
will come off and his car will stop on the way. He will call you and describe the problem to you.
This is when you will remind him that you had mentioned it before. He will feel guilty and foolish.
And when a stingy man feels guilty, he temporarily stops being stingy.
If you finish fixing a car in the evening, never call the owner. Try all you can to make the car stay
overnight. Especially on a Saturday. Especially when Sikirat, the daughter of the woman selling agbo
who is your new girlfriend, has told you of this gbedu she needs to attend. You need a car for this. The
customer will understand when you tell him that you do not like to rush your work. The problems of
the car were so much that you had to “drop engine”. He may grumble, but Sikirat will get driven to
