Iheoma Amadi: The Silent Struggles of Nigerian Young Adults

I was 14 and still in secondary school when I discovered ghostwriting. It was an exciting revelation for me because I already enjoyed writing, and earning money from something I loved was a major benefit. I found a course on ghostwriting that I was eager to take, but the cost was far beyond my budget as a teenager. I didn’t have a job or any way to save up for the course, and asking my parents for the money wasn’t an option. To them, doing well in school was the safest and most reliable pathway to success. I loved writing, and even though I had the interest and desire to learn, I couldn’t afford the opportunity to turn my passion into a source of income.

This made me realise that you can be ambitious, but ambition doesn’t automatically make things happen. Wanting something so badly doesn’t mean you can immediately afford the tools, education, equipment or the access it requires. The problem, sometimes, isn’t laziness. It’s simply that the resources are genuinely limited.

I’ve been advised to enjoy being young while I can, to go out with friends, have fun, and create memories. However, it’s difficult to be the friend who is always calculating expenses. I remember a time when my friends spontaneously decided to go out, and everyone was eager to join, while I was worried because the only money I had was meant to last me the entire week. I had planned to use it for cooking meals to sustain myself until my next paycheck.

As everyone dressed up and got ready to leave, I had to stay back, wishing I could join them without constantly worrying about money. I pretended that I didn’t mind as I waved goodbye to them. It’s tough to say no to plans and feel embarrassed when you can’t participate. Not being able to afford what your friends can, while feeling the pressure to appear like you’re doing better than you really are, is draining in every way, especially mentally.

You start to wonder: What if I never become the person I want to be? What if I’m just wasting my time? What if everyone else moves ahead while I remain stuck? What if my circumstances determine my future? Why does it seem like everyone is succeeding except for me? What if I try and fail, only to keep failing? People continually ask what I want to do with my life, but sometimes I just need someone to reassure me that I will be okay. I need someone to remind me to breathe.

Young people like me often compare our beginnings to someone else’s middle, unaware of their support systems, struggles, or how long they have been working towards their visible success. We measure our invisible progress against theirs. It’s challenging not to do this, but I’ve realised it’s important to understand that being behind doesn’t mean we are failing; it simply means we are on a different timeline.

Contrary to what social media portrays, there is no age limit for achieving success. Some people find their path early on, while others take longer or change directions multiple times before settling on a course. A slow start does not automatically predict a failed future. Beneath all the chatter about money, success, and achievement, many of us truly seek stability, freedom, a comfortable life, the opportunity to pursue our passions, and reassurance that our efforts matter.

This need for stability is real. Nigerian youth want the government to address the rising cost of living, which is the primary issue, followed closely by unemployment. It’s disheartening that, for many, financial security appears to be the only goal worth pursuing. We often focus so much on the future that we forget we are living in the present. While everyone seems to aspire to success, what we really desire is the security of knowing we will be okay.