Skip to main content

My Middle/Upper Class Dreams


Oh my, I didn’t mention it did I? Well, am currently at Abuja at some government facility doing some top secret activity. It’s a 6 month stint. That’s all am cleared to say about my new job. That explains my little absence from my blog.

Being in Abuja has afforded me the chance to observe many things, the ways and manners of the growing Nigerian middle class being at the heart of it. My job entails hobnobbing with the rich, high and mighty. The Nigerian middle class society is growing, think of the people brandishing Apples (not the fruit), blackberries (not the fruit again), the folks that mill in and out of shoprite.  Most of the members of this small army of Bentley riding and Camry driving folks are those who were hardworking and lucky enough to be at the right places at proper time when wealth was created.

For a rural dude like me, it’s very easy to spot out a Middle/upper classer, just as easy as it is for them to spot me out. At my residential base, despite my deep cover a little girl kept gawking my way. Okay, by their habits you shall know them. If Horlicks (not Milo/Bournvita) is what Junior takes for breakfast that’s a good sign, if they have more than two rides at home, or they live in a plush neighbourhood and don’t commute to work, if their teenage daughters are dressing scantier and scantier as a result of global warming, congratulations you have spotted middle/upper classers.

You know, there are a lot of pretenders and wannabes so here are extra fool proof signs in detecting true middle/upper classers. Are their kids overweight? If they are, you can’t be wrong. Shey the kids can’t speak any other language but English? Plus the American accent? Well if you were nodding as you read , then you are right.

Now all these noise for what?  Well to say the truth I have every intention and have made detailed plans to join this class of the society, I admire this class of people; especially those who started with nothing, these ones are not many though, a lot of people in this class run on money stolen from our public treasuries.
As a potential member of this class, I have made some observations for members of this class of the society, and wannabes like me; Firstly, giving your children the things that you never had as a kid will either make them worse or better than you (depending on what you give them). Secondly, raising Nigerian kids in a non-Nigerian manner helps no one in the long run; the Nigerian grounding we receive as children makes us responsible adults. Thirdly, watching your Kid get obese and think it’s a sign of the good life is folly, it’s a disaster in the nearest future for you and your kid. Finally, spanking a kid when he or she goes wrong has more often than not put a child on the path to being a responsible citizen.

So in case you have dreams of joining the middle/upper class, work hard and don’t forget to give me an invite when celebration time comes.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Tale of Roasted Maize and Sour Olives

The tale recounted is based on true events Some weeks back, on Nigeria’s Independence Day to be precise, I planned to spend the whole day indoors. That I did, I spent the day watching movies and lazying in bed. It turned out to be a quiet day all through, nothing spectacular until I received a call. An Uncle* of mine who lived in the same compound with us called me on phone and said I should meet him on his side of the house. It was about 4 pm so I trudged to his apartment, expecting to be sent on an errand. When I got there, he simply gave me a cob of roasted Maize and some Olives and that was that. It was very funny, almost awkward. I carried this funny look on my face that made his wife laugh at the situation. He just encouraged me to give it a try. I took huge bite off the cob, shaving off a large swathe of roasted Maize seeds from the cob, and then went for the Olives which turned out to be sour. Dang! The sensation is beyond description, especially when the Olive...
2 comments
Read more

Nigerian banks: So much hype, so little groundwork.

This events chronicled herein truly occurred as the world spun past this morning. Today I took it upon myself to pay up all individuals and groups I was indebted to. This involved visiting three big time Nigerian banks. These transactions which could have simply been carried out with my PC, had to be done the old school way because online transactions are not common (no one I know has ever used the system), hence it could n''t be trusted. Aside the long queues and the ages it took to get served, these banks are are quite in contrast with what you'd see in the slick adverts on CNN or NTA (Nigerian Banks do ads on CNN). The staff are not that friendly, and you can waste a lot of productive time just waiting for your turn ( I kill time watching TV whenever I visit a bank) In one of the Banks I visited, (this bank boasts of ''Pan- African ess'' ) the bulk room where I went to pay in money was desecrated with graffiti on the side boards. Yes! Graffiti, scr...
1 comment
Read more

Who did it?

Madam Shola had always been a very friendly woman ever since I knew her - which was like all my life. One of my funniest memories of her was when her humour made its finest appearance. It was a surprisingly rainy Sunday morning some Decembers ago, and we had just closed from church. My wife and I were dashing to the car hand in hand as it drizzled. "Mr and Mrs Lovebird", madam Shola called. I recognized her voice and stopped to say hello to her. "Good morning ma" "Sam, look at you! You're glowing" she exclaimed, turning to my wife she added "Mercy, you're doing a great job, I give you an A". She said using her right forefinger to make a swoosh in the air. We all laughed. First of all, my name is not Sam neither is it Samuel. Madam Shola had never called me by my name. Never. I'd gotten tired of correcting her and never bothered anymore. Sighting mercy's protruding belly she opened her mouth in mock surprise. "I see wh...
Post a Comment
Read more