A Day in the Life of a Nigerian 9-5 Worker (On a Monday)
INTRO: WELCOME TO THE MADNESS – MONDAY STYLE 🥴
You know it’s Monday in Nigeria when your alarm rings at 4:45 AM and your spirit leaves your body. This is not just any alarm o, it’s that Infinix default tone that slaps like NEPA wire. Your body dey bed but your soul don dey think of excuses not to go to work.
This post is for all of us who wear the 9-5 badge of honour, living from TGIF to salary alert. Whether you’re in Lagos dodging danfo conductors or in Abuja chilling in traffic with AC (soft life small), Mondays no dey smile for anybody.
This is a full-blown, minute-by-minute breakdown of the average Naija 9-5 Monday — from the moment you wake up with sleep in your eye to when you get home wondering if this is truly what adulthood is about.
Ready? Let’s enter the wahala together. 🫠💼
5:00 AM – The Alarm That Feels Like a Slap
The alarm rings. You ignore it. It rings again. You snooze it like three times because your spirit is still in dreamland. Then guilt enters:
"If I sleep 10 more minutes, I go still reach work on time na. Abi I call in sick?" 😩
But deep down, you know you can't afford that. You jump up, brush teeth like soldier, and start the daily morning hustle.
5:30 AM – Bathing With Bucket and Regret
You enter the bathroom and bucket water don dey wait you like exam question. If NEPA no show love, you’re heating water with kettle and praying it doesn’t trip your gen. You dey bath fast-fast like say time na Naira.
6:00 AM – Dressing Up Like You Have Your Life Together
You pick your best office clothes. Not because you want to slay, but because it’s the only clean one left. You iron shirt with one hand, eat bread with the other, and check your phone every 2 minutes for Bolt surge.
6:05 AM: Bolt says “₦6,700 to your office”.
You hiss and switch to danfo like the strong Naija soldier you are.
6:30 AM – Entering Bus and Entering Wahala
Bus finally arrives, and the conductor is already shouting:
"No change o, enter with your complete money! If you no get, make you wait for next bus!"
You squeeze yourself into the tight back seat beside one woman selling perfume and a guy playing loud TikTok videos. Your work day has unofficially started here.
7:30 AM – Lagos Traffic is the Devil’s Playground
You’re not moving. Rain has started. A car has broken down on Third Mainland.
"Why me, Lord?"
That’s the soundtrack in your head. You refresh Google Maps every 2 minutes like that will magically make the red line disappear. Your boss has already sent a “Where are you?” text on WhatsApp. You ignore it like NEPA ignores transformer complaints.
8:30 AM – Late but Entering With Confidence
You enter the office. You know you're late. Everybody knows you're late. But you smile like Messi entering the pitch.
"Good morning sir!" you say with fake energy.
Your boss nods with silent judgment. You slide to your desk and start pretending to work.
9:00 AM – Emails and Existential Crisis
Your inbox looks like traffic. 49 unread emails, 13 Slack notifications, and 1 "urgent task" from HR that somehow involves you writing a proposal for something you didn’t even attend the meeting for.
Your mind drifts:
"Is this really my life? Abi make I learn tech?"
11:00 AM – Hunger, My Old Friend
Your stomach don dey complain. You’ve refreshed Jumia Food 3 times even though you know you’ll still end up eating that N600 jollof rice from Mama Nkechi outside. You think about your bank balance.
N2,391 left till salary drop.
You settle for gala and coke. You lie to yourself: “It’s just a light snack.”
12:00 PM – The Fake Zoom Meeting
To avoid doing real work, you join a "strategy call" that has nothing to do with you. You mute mic, off camera, and open Twitter. You even scroll through LinkedIn to look busy.
"We need to leverage synergy in Q3"
You: nods in silence while playing Candy Crush.
2:00 PM – That 3rd Cup of Coffee You Didn’t Need
You’re tired. Not because of workload. Just life. You sip coffee like you’re in New York even though you’re in an open-plan office in Surulere. The AC is not even working.
3:00 PM – Mini-Office Gossip and Passive Aggression
Your seatmate starts whispering:
"You know Chika didn’t submit that report, but she’s forming boss babe."
You nod, pretending not to care but enjoying the gist. Another team member walks by and throws passive-aggressive shade:
"Some of us work, some of us gist. It’s well."
4:30 PM – You No Fit Kill Yourself
At this point, your brain has clocked out even though your body is still at your desk. You're counting down to 5 PM like rapture. You even start packing your bag by 4:45.
"No be me dem go carry stay back today."
5:00 PM – FREEDOM! (Kind of)
You rush out like prisoner on parole. You dodge your team lead because once they say “quick update,” that’s another 45 minutes of your life gone.
6:00 PM – Back to the Wahala That is Traffic
You’re back inside bus. Same conductor. Same tight seat. Same tired playlist on your earpiece. You’re daydreaming about Canada.
7:30 PM – Home, At Last (But Not Really)
You enter house. Generator noise dey greet you. NEPA still no show. You microwave yesterday’s rice and crash on the bed without even bathing.
You scroll Instagram and see your mates in Dubai. You sigh.
"One day na one day."
9:00 PM – Salary Dreaming and Sleep Fighting
You set alarm for tomorrow. Pray small. Sleep go carry you by force. But before that, you whisper:
“God abeg, another Monday like this and I fit disappear.”
WRAP-UP: IF YOU RELATE, HUG YOURSELF 😭
Being a Nigerian 9-5 worker is a full-time survival sport. You deserve accolades for showing up, for surviving traffic, for doing it again every single day even when it feels pointless.
So, to everyone living this life — firstborns, corporate slaves, danfo warriors, office clowns, and salary chasers — this post na your mirror.
If you laughed, cried, or nodded while reading, share this with someone who needs to feel seen.
Because guess what? We go again tomorrow. 💪🏾
Have a 9-5 struggle story? Drop it in the comments or tag us on Instagram @NaijaNomad for a repost. Let’s share the pain, the cruise, and the small wins.
Stay strong, my fellow warriors. 🫡
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