The Harsh Reality of Being Middle-Class in Nigeria Today

Typically, the economic standard of living is categorized into three main socioeconomic classes:

• the lower class,
• middle class, and
• upper class (or high class).

These categories are distinguished by factors such as income, wealth, occupation, education, and lifestyle. While it is believed that the lower class faces economic hardship, the middle class is expected to live comfortably, though often with financial caution, and the upper class should enjoy vast wealth and luxury.

The middle class, which is the focus of this post, generally consists of individuals with stable incomes that allow for a comfortable—though not extravagant—lifestyle. Their jobs require a moderate to high level of education or skill, providing enough income to meet basic needs while leaving some room for savings and leisure activities. Examples of middle-class professions include teachers, nurses and other healthcare workers, office managers, administrative professionals, skilled tradespeople (like electricians, plumbers, and carpenters), small business owners, accountants, financial analysts, and government workers.

In terms of lifestyle, the middle class can generally afford:

• Homeownership: Whether through renting, outright purchase, or a mortgage.
• Car Ownership: Typically owning one or more vehicles.
• Education or Vocational Training: Access to quality education and ongoing training.
• Savings: The ability to save for the future and contribute to retirement plans, though long-term wealth building may still present challenges.
• Healthcare: Access to healthcare through employer-provided insurance or government programs.
• Vacations and Leisure: The ability to take vacations, though often within a carefully planned budget.

On the other hand, the lower class consists of individuals who earn the least, often struggling to meet basic needs such as food, shelter, and healthcare, with many falling below the poverty line. The upper class consists of individuals who earn the highest incomes, often through leadership positions, investments, or inherited wealth, enabling them to enjoy luxurious lifestyles, access elite education and healthcare, and exert significant influence in social, economic, and political spheres.

Truth be told, while the illustration of these three classes applies globally, in Nigeria, these categories take on distinctive nuances. Within the middle class, there are those who can afford three square meals daily but hesitate to buy a car, while others may own a car yet cannot manage a vacation. For the context of this post, I define Nigerian middle-class individuals as those who can at least afford a decent living, moderate meals, and reasonably nice clothing.

Life as a middle-class Nigerian carries its own unique challenges. Speaking from personal experience, I understand the struggles that come with this identity. Despite living alongside the lower class, many perceive us as “wealthy” and believe we somehow benefit from the corrupt systems of governance. It’s puzzling how this notion has taken hold.

I remember a morning on the bus to work when an angry, clearly hungry man began ranting about the country’s economic state. After expressing his frustrations with the government, he pointed me out and demanded that I tell then-President Buhari to have mercy on the people, simply because I was dressed in corporate attire. He had no idea that I was struggling with the same economic hardships and that no one in my family had ever set foot in Aso Rock. Yet, because I didn’t look unkempt, he assumed I was one of those benefiting from the government. If I were truly benefiting, I’d definitely be driving a Lamborghini!

What the Nigerian lower class often overlooks about the middle class is that our apparent liquidity doesn’t reflect true wealth; many of us survive on credit, loans, and mortgages, just trying to get by. Despite these realities, we are frequently viewed as the saviors for the less fortunate, with the poor expecting help from us simply because they see us daily, while the wealthy—who are truly in a position to assist—remain distant, protected by layers of security and secrecy.

If anyone should be targeted for accountability, it should be the upper class, as the wealthy rarely assist the poor and certainly don’t share their paths to wealth with the middle class.

Another challenge of being a middle-class Nigerian is the burden of providing for numerous family members, friends, and neighbors who feel entitled to support. Amidst this responsibility, we often become targets of crime, frequently falling victim to robbery and burglary. It’s as if the poor are robbing the poor, yet the lower class remains unaware of this harsh reality.

Whenever the lower class protests their harsh realities, these demonstrations often escalate into riots and targeted lootings. Unfortunately, they tend to loot the largest grocery store owned by a middle-class Nigerian struggling to survive on loans or snatch the car of another middle-class individual who purchased it on mortgage. The lower-class youth who engage in this pilfering only target the middle class; no upper-class individuals face such threats, as they are typically shielded by heavily armed security personnel.

I truly can’t recall how many times I’ve been robbed or pickpocketed while coming home from work, often by armed teenagers who clearly hail from disadvantaged backgrounds, lacking access to basic education and having spent far too long on the streets.

Being middle class in Nigeria right now is one of the worst positions to be in. We are constantly targeted by both the poor and the rich. The poor resent us if we don’t meet their demands, and the rich keep us at arm’s length, uninterested in helping us climb the ladder of success.

So, when they say people are hungry, I ask: am I not hungry too, maybe just in a different way?

This is indeed an evil hour to be a middle-class Nigerian, and if you ask me, this is a key reason for the mass migration. It explains why doctors, teachers, IT professionals, lawyers, and others are leaving the country to start anew elsewhere with their families. Often, their primary concern is safety.