Poverty in Nigeria – and yet so much dignity
Nigeria is a country of contrasts. Alongside affluent neighborhoods with well-kept driveways, modern apartments, air-conditioned cafés, and international supermarkets, just a few streets away you’ll find makeshift huts, open sewage ditches, and people fighting for daily survival. These opposites aren’t contradictory – they’re part of Nigeria’s reality.
Nigeria isn’t just made up of ghettos. In cities like Lagos or Abuja, there are districts that at first glance resemble Miami. High-rises, well-secured residential complexes, stylish hotels. But outside these enclaves, a different life begins. And this life defines everyday existence for most people.
Unemployment is high. Official numbers often obscure the true extent, because many Nigerians work in the so-called informal economy: selling goods by the roadside, doing odd jobs, or helping in small businesses – usually without contracts, insurance, or fixed pay.
In statistics, they count as “employed” – even though their income often barely covers survival. Those with no work at all appear as unemployed. This makes the numbers look better than they are. Because many not counted as unemployed still live in extreme poverty – whether they have jobs or not.
While the legal minimum wage theoretically stands at about 50,000 Naira (around 35 euros), most people in practice earn significantly less – especially in rural areas or as unskilled laborers. $24 a month for full-time work isn’t unusual. And this isn’t part-time. Many work shifts of 12, 16, or even 24 hours, without overtime pay, without social security, without protection.
Why do they accept this? Because there are no alternatives. High unemployment forces many to endure poor conditions – hoping to earn anything at all. Those who quit or complain get replaced. Demand for work outstrips supply. This creates an atmosphere of dependency, fear – and resignation.
Living standards hardly compare to European conditions. Smartphones are luxury items. Many own them – but they were gifts, bought used, or financed with family help. Those with cheap Android phones often share them or use them only on WiFi, as mobile data is unaffordable for many. Clothes come from secondhand markets, electricity isn’t reliably available, and running water isn’t a given in many households.
Yet amid these challenges, people preserve their dignity. They laugh often. Celebrate when there’s reason – even if it’s just a plate of rice or a new school notebook. Children play with old tires, improvise soccer goals, laugh like children everywhere.
Poverty in Nigeria means more than material lack – it means insecurity. Any day could change everything: a medical emergency, a broken motorcycle, a dismissing employer. Savings barely exist. And yet people keep living, fighting, improvising. And above all: hoping.