Few names command respect across both the boardroom and the classroom like Dr. Mutiu Sunmonu, CON. From humble beginnings in Abeokuta, Ogun State, to the highest echelons of corporate leadership, Dr. Sunmonu’s life is a study in vision, discipline, and purposeful impact. A first-class graduate of Mathematics and Computer Science from the University of Lagos, he joined Shell in 1978 as a Computer Programmer/ Business Analyst, and rose steadily through the ranks, culminating in his appointment as Managing Director of Shell Petroleum Development Company (SPDC)
There’s a particular kind of tiredness that doesn’t come from lack of sleep. It’s the kind that seeps into your bones, dulls your joy, and makes even simple tasks feel monumental. I’ve felt it. You probably have too.
It’s not just tiredness — it’s burnout. And for a long time, I didn’t know the difference. just thought I was falling behind. That needed to push harder, wake up earlier, say yes more, and juggle better. But the truth is, you can’t out-hustle depletion.
In Nigeria, we almost pride ourselves on endurance. We wear our productivity like a badge, especially those of us who are used to being the strong ones. You show up, you deliver, you power through. Until your body starts whispering or worse, screaming that it’s had enough. But even then, we brush it off. We call it laziness. We selfcriticize. We tell ourselves to get over it and get on with it.
But stress is a killer—literally. And we need to start treating it with the seriousness it deserves. We can no longer afford to normalise the ache in our chests, the forgetfulness, the mood swings, and the inability to enjoy what we used to love. These are not just signs of being busy—they are signs that our systems are overwhelmed. Rest is not a reward. Slowing down is not weakness. Your body is not a machine. And every time you ignore that persistent headache, that shallow breath, that growing irritability, you’re sending a message to yourself that your worth is in your output. It’s not.
This week, we decided to say it clearly: You’re not lazy. You’re just burnt out. And you’re not alone. If you’re feeling stretched thin, uninspired, or like the version of yourself you used to love is fading at the edges, take a moment. Breathe. Read the piece. Then read it again. Then go outside. Say no. Cancel something. Sleep. Do absolutely nothing, and call it care. Because it is.
And when the fog starts to lift — whether tomorrow or two weeks from now — and you feel the quiet urge to re-engage, to create, to be seen, we’ll be right here. With stories to make you smile, fashion that reminds you of who you are, and moments of beauty that ask nothing from you but presence. No pressure. Just pages — waiting for you when you’re ready. Love,
MINUS THE PRESSURE FRIENDSHIP GOALS,
Lagos will test your patience, your pocket, and sometimes your sense of self. But the right friends remind you who you are. They refill your joy. They make the city feel less overwhelming and a little more like home. Real friendship is still the softest flex. Between back-to-back traffic, unstable schedules, and everyone just trying to make ends meet, maintaining close friendships can feel like a luxury. Calls are missed. Plans get rescheduled. People quietly grow apart. But friendship in adulthood isn’t about constant contact; it’s about mutual effort, emotional honesty, and choosing each other, even when life gets hectic. Here’s how people are building meaningful and lasting friendships, despite the noise, the busyness, and the silence in the group chat.
By Funke Babs-Kufeji
Everyone is Busy. That’s Not an Excuse – It’s a Reality. Friendship doesn’t always look like constant hangouts anymore. Sometimes it’s voice notes, prayer requests, or sending your friend a funny tweet that screams “you.” The effort might look different now —but it still counts.
Flaky Friends Are Not Your Tribe
If someone is always cancelling, never replying, and only reaching out when they need something, it’s okay to let that go. Adulthood is too short and stressful for one-sided friendships. Prioritise mutuality, not proximity.
Talk It Out Even When It’s Awkward Friendship breakups hurt. Silent grudges kill connection. Miscommunication is real. Be open. Be honest. Say when you feel neglected, forgotten, or overwhelmed. Soft people have hard conversations too. Don’t ghost people you once prayed with.
Leave Room for Grace Life in Lagos is intense. Sometimes your friend is flaky because they’re broke. Or sad. Or stuck in third mainland traffic. Extend grace but know when to also protect your peace.
Your Friendships Should Match Your Growth You’re evolving. Your circle should too. Find friends who match your energy, challenge your thinking, and align with your values. It’s not elitist. It’s necessary. Every friendship doesn’t have to be deep but the deep ones deserve your effort.
Celebrate the Little Moments
Send that “congratulations” text. Show up to the art show. Plan a dinner that isn’t a birthday or bridal shower. In this city where everything feels transactional, be a friend who remembers the small stuff.
EXECUTIVE EDITOR
THE SOFT LIFE LAGOS GUIDE TO ENJOYMENT, EASE, AND ESCAPING WAHALA
In today’s Nigeria, the hustle is loud, but the soft life is louder. Soft life is more than just a trending phrase, it’s a fullon lifestyle movement. It’s the refusal to glorify stress, the commitment to beauty, boundaries, and balance. It’s for the guys and girls who are done with suffering and smiling. This is your gentle nudge or fullon push into your soft era.
By Funke Babs-Kufeji
Spa Days Are Essential, Not Optional
Soft life means prioritising rest like it’s your job. Book that facial. Go for the full-body massage. Do the steam bath, the deep tissue therapy, and the post-spa selfie. Lagos will stress you let someone knead it out of your shoulders.
You deserve pampering that isn’t saved only for birthdays or heartbreaks. Normalize self-care as maintenance, not a luxury.
Soft life tip: Midweek spa appointments mean fewer crowds and more zen.
Private Chef Stress Free Cooking
Cooking three meals a day while trying to be productive is not soft. Enter: the private chef, the meal prep plug, the Instagram food vendor who delivers coconut rice, jollof rice in foil trays. Eating well is part of the glow-up. Even if it’s just Sunday rice in a pretty bowl with candles lit and music playing, soft life requires ambience. Bonus points for plating it like a MasterChef contestant and uploading to IG stories with #softsundays.
Soft life tip: Ask your chef to add fruits or puff-puff as starter.
Always start with drama.
Travel, Even If It’s Just to Abuja With Vibes
You don’t need a visa or twoweek leave to enjoy peace.
A quick plane trip to abuja, a beach day in Tarkwa Bay, or a staycation in a boogie hotel on the mainland or island with scented candles can do wonders. Soft life isn’t about the destination, it’s about how you feel getting there. Curate your travel bag, playlist, silk robe, and take photos like you’re sponsored by the hotel or Airbnb even if you paid in three instalments.
Soft life tip: You can escape chaos without leaving the country. Just leave your group chat.
Therapy Is the New Black
Gone are the days of bottling things up and calling it strength. Now we journal, we cry in peace, and we talk to therapists (or coaches, or safe friends) without shame.
Emotional clarity is the new glow. Normalize saying “I’m not available today, I need to protect my peace.” Even if it’s just to cancel vibes with someone that drains your soul.
Soft life tip: Your peace of
mind is your prettiest accessory.
You Don’t Have to Be Rich, Just Well Packaged There’s something powerful about looking expensive even when your account balance says otherwise. Hair sleek. Edges laid. Nails done. Fragrance on point. Lagos will respect you when you look like someone that must not be stressed. Packaging is a soft life survival skill. Tailormade outfits. Statement bags. Sunglasses that block both sun and foolishness.
Soft life tip: Don’t wait for the money to dress like money.
Content is Currency
A soft life not documented is almost wasted. The candlelit dinner, the solo beach walk, the silk pyjamas and wine night all of it is aesthetic and postworthy. You don’t need to have it all together. You just need good lighting. Your feed should reflect the life you’re curating, even if you’re still figuring it out. Vlogs, carousels, mirror selfies, this is how we archive joy. Soft life tip: Post even if it’s just Indomie in a white bowl with jazz music in the background.
THE DAILY RITUALS TO CULTIVATE TO BRING YOU PEACE IN THESE TRYING TIMES.
Let’s be honest, living in Nigeria can feel like a contact sport. The sapa is aggressive, the traffic is disrespectful, the cost of diesel is high, and some days, it feels like everything is trying to steal your joy. But somehow, people are still glowing. Still posting soft life content. Still saying “God did.” So, how exactly are people staying soft in a country that feels like it runs on chaos? The answer isn’t always money or a one-way ticket sometimes, it’s the daily habits, small boundaries, and tiny pleasures that keep people sane, grounded, and soft. Here’s how Nigerians are preserving their peace, one day at a time:
By Funke Babs-Kufeji
Create a Morning Routine That’s Just for You
Before the day starts fighting you, claim a little space for yourself. Light a candle. Stretch. Drink
Curate Your Own Peace (Headphones Required)
Sometimes the best way to block out stress is literally blocking it out. Build playlists that calm you. Podcasts that
Romanticise the Little Things
always big, it’s in the details. If NEPA won’t give you light, at least give yourself a vibe.
Say No (Without Explanation) You don’t have to be everywhere. You don’t have to please everyone. Start saying “I can’t make it,”“I need to rest,” or simply “No” with your chest. Protecting your time and energy is peak softness.
Indulge Without Guilt
Soft life doesn’t mean reckless spending, but it does mean intentional enjoyment. Order that shawarma. Buy that candle. Take that 5k Uber. Every now and then, choose joy over guilt. Softness is buying what your 2018 self couldn’t afford.
Curate Your People
Be around people who pour into you, not drain you. The friends who make you laugh, listen to you rant, and send you memes at midnight — keep them close. Community is emotional skincare.
Rest Is Not Laziness
Rest is not a luxury, it’s a necessity. Sleep well. Take naps. Log out. You’re allowed to be tired. This country will keep moving. Don’t let it move over you.
BEARDS, BROWS & BIG MONEY: THE MEN ARE ENTERING THE BEAUTY CHAT TOO
Once upon a time, the average Nigerian man used bar soap for everything, face, body, hair, maybe even his car. Today? He’s getting facials, booking mani-pedis, tinting his beard, and asking his barber about texture sprays. Yes, the boys have entered the beauty chat and they didn’t come empty handed. They came with premium beard oils, skincare routines, and fully funded selfcare budgets. Across states, new-age Nigerian men are investing heavily in their looks. High-end barbershops now feel like private lounges. Male skincare brands are popping up on Instagram. There’s a growing market for hypermasculine beauty brands packaged in sleek black bottles, endorsed by influencers, and priced like cologne.
By Funke Babs-Kufeji
WHAT’S DRIVING THE GLOW-UP?
Social Media Pressure
If you’re showing face on Instagram, it better be giving clear skin and clean beard energy. In these times of selfies, Reels, and #MensFashion, even the “lowkey” guys are investing in their appearance. Likes aren’t free and neither is looking fresh.
Corporate Image Culture
Presentation is no longer just for women in the office. Tech bros, creatives, and even bankers are realising that looking good can open doors. A glowing face says “I have range.” A well-groomed beard says “Trust me with your pitch deck.”
Romantic Expectations
Nigerian women are no longer tolerating cracked lips, flaky skin, and only water as a skincare routine. If the ladies are exfoliating, double cleansing, and masking at night, they expect their men to show some effort too. Onesided glow is now officially unattractive.
THE NEW MALE GROOMING KIT
Beard Oil (But Make It Premium)
No more coconut oil from the kitchen. Today’s beard oils come with argan, jojoba, tea tree and branding that screams masculinity. Beards are now curated, brushed, lined, and nourished daily.
Scent is style. It’s not the afterthought—it’s the finish. Long before you speak, your scent announces you. Long after you leave, it lingers like a rumour. And if you’re still treating fragrance like a spritz-and-go moment, it’s time to change that. Here’s how to pick a signature scent—the kind that fits like a custom suit and smells like you have good taste and better intentions.
1. Don’t Shop the Hype –Shop the Mood
Yes, everyone and their cousin is wearing Baccarat Rouge. That doesn’t mean you should. Choosing your signature scent isn’t about hype—it’s about finding your identity. Think: how do you want people to feel when you walk past them? Intrigued? Calm? Slightly distracted? The answer should guide your bottle, not TikTok trends.
2. Test on Skin, Not on Paper
iris—soft, but not weak. And for the laid-back Lagos cool guy? Go citrus—bergamot, lemon, green tea, mint.
4. Consider the Climate (We’re in Nigeria, Sir)
This is not London. Lagos heat + heavy oud = asphyxiation. Choose lighter notes for the day, such as citrus, aquatic, or herbal. Save the deep, resinous blends for evening, air conditioning, or Owambes with enough space for you to make an entrance. Your scent shouldn’t arrive ten minutes before you do.
doesn’t feel like it fits you at your worst, it won’t elevate you at your best.
7. Less Is Always More Two, maybe three sprays. Pulse points. Don’t soak your shirt, don’t shower your neck. Let people lean in. Mystery is always more fashionable than assault.
8. Know When to Switch It Up
A signature doesn’t mean only one. You’re not a cartoon character. Day scent. Night scent. Weekend scent. Maybe one for when you’re in your “don’t talk to me unless you’re rich or romantic” mood. Have a rotation. Just like your wardrobe.
Toner and Serum
Yes, men have pores too. With more guys experiencing acne, hyperpigmentation, and oily skin, skincare is no longer a secret women keep to themselves. Toner, serum, and SPF are the new tools of the sharp man. Watch him pretend not to know what hyaluronic acid is—he does.
Fragrance Layering
It’s not just about spraying perfume after a bath anymore. Now they’re layering: scented body wash + matching lotion + cologne = olfactory intimidation. The right scent is part of the look, part of the mood, part of the date prep. Smell like a man who moisturises and pays for therapy.
Brow Shaping, Facials & Mani-Pedis
The high-end barbershops in Lagos aren’t just for haircuts. They offer steam facials, blackhead removal, under-eye treatments, and brow cleanups. And men are booking these services on purpose, not just as add-ons. Soft life isn’t just for the babes anymore.
“For Men” Packaging
(But It’s Basically the Same Cream)
Let’s be honest: half the products in the “men’s” aisle are just women’s formulas in charcoal black bottles with names like Steel, Night Storm, or Alpha Charge. But it works because many men feel more comfortable when the product screams testosterone.As long as he’s using sunscreen, we’ll allow the branding.
Fragrance is chemistry. What smells seductive on your best friend might smell like a Sunday air freshener on you. Spray on your wrist, not a tester strip. Wear it. Live in it. Fragrance is a story—it unfolds in chapters: top, heart, base. Wait till page three.
3. Know the Notes that Speak Your Language
If you’re a classic man—clean lines, white shirts, quiet power—look for woody or musky notes, such as sandalwood, cedar, amber, and vetiver. If you’re all about drama, decadence, and a bit of chaos? Lean into spices, oud, tobacco, and leather. For the romantics (yes, we see you): florals. Rose, jasmine, even
5. Make It Fashion
Scent is part of the look. That linen two-piece from David Wej? Pair it with something green, crisp, and mineral. Your structured agbada in a deep, jewel-toned shade? Reach for spice and wood. Your scent should sit beside your outfit in the mirror, quietly approving.
6. Don’t Try to Impress. Try to Belong (To Yourself)
Fragrance isn’t about seduction. It’s about self-awareness. Your signature scent should smell like you—even when you’re dressed down, moody, or hungover. Especially then. If it
9. Respect the Memory It Leaves
People won’t remember what belt you wore. They will remember how you smelled. And the best scents aren’t just noticed—they’re missed. If someone walks into a room after you and inhales instinctively? That’s style.
10. Bonus Rule: The Best Scent Is the One That Feels Like Confidence
Confidence doesn’t mean loud. It doesn’t mean expensive. It means considered. Whether you’re wearing a niche Italian brand or a discreet oil from a Kano market, if you wear it with conviction, it becomes yours.
Don’t Just Wear a Fragrance –Own It
NIGERIAN FASHION BRANDS THAT ARE WORTH YOUR COIN
There’s a quiet shift happening in Nigerian fashion—and the truly stylish have clocked it. The new power move isn’t head-to-toe designer from Milan or Paris. It’s a Hertunba jacket cut from recycled akeete. It’s Ninie’s sharp tailoring in Aso Oke with the swagger of streetwear. It’s that subtle flex when someone asks where your outfit is from, and you casually reply, “It’s Nigerian.” At a time when fashion is increasingly global, the most compelling voices are coming from right here—designers who aren’t just chasing trends but creating new visual language rooted in heritage, craftsmanship, and impeccable taste. These are the brands rewriting what it means to dress well in Nigeria today: bold, thoughtful, sometimes eccentric, always intentional. They’re worth your coin because they don’t just sell clothes—they sell identity, integrity, and innovation. Because the tailoring is excellent, the stories are authentic, and the finish rivals anything from abroad. Because supporting them means betting on our own—and winning stylishly while you’re at it.
HERTUNBA
Florentina Agu is doing serious things from her Lagos atelier. With Hertunba, she’s taken akwete weaving—a traditional technique— and reimagined it into a design language of architectural silhouettes and futuristic textures. The brand’s interlaced geometric patterns are more than just visually arresting; they’re proof that heritage and innovation can hold hands and walk the runway together. Using recycled materials and crafted by women artisans, Hertunba is that rare label that manages to be deeply luxurious and proudly conscious. If you love fashion, that says something; this is it.
NINIE
Technically a menswear label, but who’s following the rules? Founded by Benzito Benson, Ninie is for the confident dresser—man or woman—who understands the quiet power of well-cut Aso Oke. There’s something wildly modern about how Ninie balances the elegance of traditional fabric with the edge of streetwear. Think wide-legged trousers, tailored jackets, minimal fuss—but all rooted in texture and structure. The brand is slowly but surely becoming a cult favourite for fashion insiders who want Nigerian craftsmanship with a sharp, contemporary twist.
ISALEEKO FROM DERIN
Comfort-first and proudly size-inclusive, this brand by fashion influencer Derin from Isale Eko is fast becoming the go-to for Lagos girls who want to look effortlessly good without trying too hard. Isaleeko From Derin is about wearable, well-cut pieces that move with you, not against you. The designs are clean, the fabrics are light, and the vibe is very much “you can sit pretty in this and still catch flights.” It’s fashion for real life, not just Instagram, which, ironically, makes it very Instagrammable.
BREE THE LABEL
From Port Harcourt with minimalist love, Bree The Label is redefining what sustainable Nigerian fashion can look like. Founded on ethics and earthy aesthetics, Bree’s designs play in a calming palette of browns, neutrals, and clean lines that are anything but boring. There’s an ease to every garment, yet a richness in detail. Each piece is handcrafted by women artisans, meaning your money isn’t just buying a dress—it’s investing in a community. If you’ve ever wanted to build a more mindful wardrobe without losing your edge, Bree is your girl.
JEWEL
BY
JEMILA
Jemila Yusuf created a brand that feels like a warm hug in silk. Jewel by Jemila is all about movement, colour, and confidence—outfits that drape beautifully without drowning you, that hug without squeezing, that announce your arrival without screaming. The cuts are flattering, the colours are joyful, and there’s an elegant femininity that feels mature but never matronly. Whether you’re headed to a wedding, a brunch, or the boardroom, Jewel by Jemila makes sure you’re not just dressed— you’re remembered.
EMMY KASBIT
If there were an award for preserving Nigerian textile traditions while keeping the aesthetic sharp and modern, Emmy Kasbit would already have it framed. Founded by Emmanuel Okoro (and coowned by Daniel Olurin), the brand’s signature is the Akwete cloth, handwoven by women and transformed into runway-ready, unisex garments. Emmy Kasbit is heritage done with swagger. The tailoring is strong, the silhouettes are bold, and every piece feels like a conversation starter. It’s sustainable, it’s rooted in culture, and it’s fashion with spine.
FIA FACTORY
If your fashion mood board reads like “eccentric but polished,” FIA is the label for you. What started in Bonny Island is now a Lagos fashion darling, known for its fearless mix of prints, textures, and whimsical cuts. FIA doesn’t do boring. There’s always a quirk— an asymmetric hemline, a surprise panel, an unexpected clash that somehow works. It’s fashion for the woman who is the moment, who shows up to brunch overdressed on purpose, and whose wardrobe makes no apologies.
LAVISH RTW
The name says it all— lavish. This is a brand that understands the assignment: drama, glamour, and premium finish. Lavish RTW (ReadyTo-Wear) is a masterclass in making you feel like the main character, whether you’re walking into a dinner party or a conference room. Think cinched waists, flowing sleeves, silky fabrics, and outfits that deserve better lighting than your phone camera can provide. If you’re trying to build a wardrobe of investment pieces that still feel fun and flirty, this one’s worth every naira.
We’ve all been there. Staring into a wardrobe bursting at the seams with clothes, only to sigh and mutter those familiar words: “I have nothing to wear.” The irony stings even more when you’re already running late. You try on three outfits, toss them all on the bed, and eventually leave the house in the same black top you’ve worn three times this week— because at least that one “works.” Sound familiar? Then maybe, just maybe, you don’t need more clothes. You need more style sense.
These days, looking good is a full-time job. Between weddings, brunches, concerts, and that last-minute dinner invite, the pressure to show up stylishly dressed is real. But instead of building a wardrobe that works, many of us are addicted to just buying clothes. Instagram made you buy that dress. TikTok convinced you that you needed those cargo pants. And now, here you are—closet full, outfit ideas zero.
The Style vs. Shopping Dilemma
You know what’s funny? Some of the most stylish women in Nigeria don’t shop that often. They repeat clothes, remix pieces, and reimagine their wardrobe constantly. The real difference between someone who has “style” and someone who just owns a ton of clothes is simple: the art of styling. Styling is the how, not the what. It’s how
you wear that linen shirt—tucked in, sleeves rolled, layered under a blazer. It’s knowing how to balance silhouettes, play with texture, and throw on just the right accessory to make an outfit look intentional. It’s the magic of seeing a tired pair of jeans and realising they’d come alive with a crop top, strappy heels, and a bold lip. Meanwhile, someone else owns three versions of the same chiffon top and still doesn’t feel put together. They’re shopping, but they’re not styling.
Closet Confessions: Nigerian Edition
Let’s talk about the Nigerian shopping pattern. We love a good outfit. Yes.
A new dress for every event and a shopping cart that’s never empty.
We buy clothes for vibes, not for function. That neon dress that looked amazing in pictures? It can’t be styled down. The mesh bodysuit that’s great for beach parties but weird at brunch?
It’s now collecting dust. So the next time you get dressed, you’re surrounded by clothes that don’t actually go anywhere—or go together.
It’s not a wardrobe. It’s a costume department.
SO, WHAT’S THE FIX?
Build a Core Wardrobe
The best-dressed women have go-to basics: a crisp white shirt, a great pair of jeans, a blazer that makes a statement, neutral-toned heels, gold hoops, and a dress that fits just right. Build from these. The fun pieces (think Ankara two-pieces or sequined tops) should
complement your basics, not exist in a fashion vacuum.
Learn the Art of Layering
We don’t always embrace layering because of the heat, but lightweight layering can change your whole look. A silk scarf worn as a top, a kimono over a tank dress, a shirt tied at the waist—it’s the details that elevate an outfit.
Get Inspired… the Right Way
Instead of blindly copying influencers, study them. What are they pairing? How do they wear colour? What footwear do they choose? It’s not about owning what they own—it’s about applying similar styling to what you already have.
Start a ‘Wear It Differently’ Challenge
Take five items from your closet and style each in three different ways. It’s a great exercise to get your creative juices flowing—and you’ll realise your wardrobe has more range than you thought.
Shop with a Plan, Not Emotions Nigerian boutiques are experts at temptation. You walk in for “just earrings” and come out with a feathered co-ord. Before buying anything new, ask: Can style this three ways with what I already own? If the answer is no, leave it.
Consider a Stylist—Yes, Really Styling isn’t just for celebrities. There are affordable personal stylists in Lagos and Abuja offering virtual sessions, closet detoxes, and style guides. A one-time session could change how you dress forever.
DEBBIE BEEKO
DR. MUTIU SUNMONU, CON.: FROM FIRST-CLASS TO WORLD-CLASS
Few names command respect across both the boardroom and the classroom like Dr. Mutiu Sunmonu, CON. From humble beginnings in Abeokuta, Ogun State, to the highest echelons of corporate leadership, Dr. Sunmonu’s life is a study in vision, discipline, and purposeful impact. A first-class graduate of Mathematics and Computer Science from the University of Lagos, his early brilliance foreshadowed an illustrious career that would span continents and redefine corporate excellence.
Joining Shell in 1978 as a Computer Programmer/Business Analyst, Dr. Sunmonu rose steadily through the ranks, culminating in his appointment as Managing Director of Shell Petroleum Development Company (SPDC) and later as Country Chair, Shell Companies in Nigeria. With over three decades of leadership at one of the world’s most influential energy companies, he left a legacy of innovation, integrity, and inclusive growth.
Since his retirement in 2015, Dr. Sunmonu has continued to wield his influence as a boardroom statesman, guiding companies across diverse sectors including oil and gas, financial services, FMCG, and construction. His board roles at ChampionX, Coronation (Wapic) Insurance, Unilever Nigeria, Air Peace, and others reflect his enduring relevance in Nigeria’s economic landscape. As Co-Founder of The Sage Center for Leadership Excellence, he is actively shaping the next generation of African leaders with a rare blend of character, competence, and courage.
A recipient of the national honour of Commander of the Order of the Niger (CON) and multiple honorary doctorates, Dr. Sunmonu’s contributions to national development extend far beyond the boardroom.
In this interview with Azuka Ogujuiba, Dr. Sunmonu reflects on the lessons from his early years, the pivotal decisions that shaped his career, the urgent need for governance reform in Nigeria, and why leadership without character is a hollow pursuit.
BY AZUKA OGUJIUBA
Growing up in Abeokuta and attending Lisabi Grammar School, what values or lessons from your early life have stayed with you throughout your journey? had come from the North and was just 11 when I was thrown into a boarding house—still in Primary Six. My father believed it was best to start my secondary education early in the South. Being among older students while still in primary school was great training. I had to fight for myself. The dining hall was rowdy, and seniors did their own thing. I quickly learned to be more assertive. After that year, moved to Lisabi Grammar School. One thing that stayed with me was my father’s words: “Now that you’re in secondary school, you have to maintain your academic performance.” That was my early lesson in what we now call KPIs. He said wasn’t to go below third position in class. In my first term, I came third. He said, “Good, but improve.” Second term, I came second. Third term, took first. It taught me to track progress and push myself. That was my first real experience of independent living—being responsible for my outcomes
What was that a turning point for you where you told yourself, “I must make it”?
To be honest, think the kind of coaching I got from my father at such a young age is the best example of good parenting. He would make sure we took walks together in the evening even before was in secondary school. When we lived in Offa or Kafanchan, we’d go on evening walks, and he’d talk to me about life: what to do, what not to do, and the importance of education. As far as he was concerned, education was everything. He used to say, “If you don’t get it right, forget about any decent living.” He drilled into us that we must study hard and get a solid education. In his view, there were only three acceptable professions: doctor, engineer, or lawyer. These days, we don’t really do that kind of rigid guidance anymore, but for me, it created a solid foundation.
what sparked your passion for mathematics and computer science? How did that shape your ambitions? think had a natural ability with numbers. Even in primary school, I always did well in arithmetic. In secondary school, my maths grades were consistently strong. At some point, I realised maths was my strongest subject. I would aim to score as close to 100% as possible because I knew that in subjects like history or geography, wasn’t as confident. I used maths to balance out the rest. It became my anchor—and I stayed focused on it. Even in university, I felt could make a first-class in mathematics with my eyes closed. It came naturally to me. So, decided to hone that strength.
Did you end up studying mathematics at university?
Yes, I studied Mathematics and Computer Science at the University of Lagos.
Graduating with a first-class degree from UNILAG is a major achievement. How did that moment influence your career trajectory?
I remember that evening so vividly. had gone to the Shrine, I love Fela’s music and used to go there once a week. That evening, after finishing my final exams, I went to relax. When I got back to my hostel room, someone started banging on my door: “Mutiu! The result is out you made a first class!” was so excited. I felt so fulfilled. The first thing thought was how wished could call my father immediately. I knew how proud he would be. The next day, I went to P&T and called my dad at work. He was overjoyed. And that moment solidified my belief: was going to be a university professor. That was my plan.
To become a professor?
Yes, I wanted to lecture and eventually become a professor.
How and why did that change?
It was fate. While others applied for jobs, I stayed focused on pursuing a PhD and lecturing. But during NYSC in Lagos, I visited a friend whose brother introduced me to a Shell contact. When mentioned my first-class in Mathematics and Computer Science, he gave me a card and told me to visit 40 Marina for a test and interview. That’s how Shell entered the picture. The day I got Shell’s offer was the same day received a Commonwealth scholarship to study at Waterloo. Conflicted, deferred the scholarship and started at Shell. I later asked a UNILAG professor for a recommendation. He warned, “With your background, go into industry.” insisted, and he signed. But Shell’s programme was intense, and I missed key scholarship deadlines. Eventually, Waterloo cancelled my admission. I took it as a sign and committed fully to my Shell career.
What strategies helped you lead through the complex corporate environment, especially in a resource-rich but politically dynamic region like Nigeria? think wouldn’t call it strategy, to be honest. I call it grace. And will also attribute my success in Shell to the people around me. had good mentors who were always directing and guiding me. wasn’t initially a very corporate person. As a young man, I didn’t take work that seriously. But I had people who told me, “This is what you do. This is what you don’t do.” One of my earliest challenges in Shell was having supervisors constantly checking in when I was given an assignment. If you assign me a task and give a deadline, just leave me to it. But I had supervisors who would come every morning to check in.
Was it because you were very young?
Maybe. I was very young compared to my supervisor then. It began to irritate me. knew when I was supposed to deliver, so why was this woman always on my neck? But I also had other more mature supervisors who were supportive. remember one instance where my overall boss asked me for a memo, which I couldn’t find. In my youthful arrogance, I thought I’d just tell him I lost it. I mentioned it to a mentor, who advised me against that approach. He said, “Check who else was copied on the memo.” I remembered Mr. Benko had a copy. I went to him and got the memo. That mentor saved the day and taught me not to treat work with levity. You take it seriously, and when there is a problem, you find a solution. Those early teachings were so helpful, and I’m still friends with some of those bosses today.
Working across both local and international branches of Shell must have exposed you to diverse work cultures and regulatory environments. How did those differences shape your understanding of global corporate operations?
COVER COVER
Many see board membership as a status symbol rather than a responsibility. In Nigeria, people believe being on a board gives you power to override executives. To me, a board member should be a coach, not just an enforcer. Some scream at their MDs during meetings. I prefer working collaboratively.
First, Shell is a great employer. If came back again, would still want to work for Shell. They train you and try to provide equal opportunities, even though it’s a foreign company. It’s still a human system, but they try their best. served in Aberdeen, and that was my first real exposure to workplace discrimination—not organizational, but individual biases. It wasn’t structural, but you could feel the difference. Nigerians in Aberdeen could sense it. But we focused on the job, and over time, people who were once distant started to warm up. So, I learned to let my work speak for me. Aberdeen also taught me about work-life balance. Offices would be empty by 4 p.m., unlike in Nigeria where people stayed until 7 or 8. I once worked over the weekend and the security guards reported me to my boss. It was a wake-up call: life isn’t all about work.
As Managing Director of SPDC and Country Chair of Shell Nigeria, what legacy do you believe you left behind?
I believe my legacy is good leadership. I allowed people around me to experience humane, effective leadership. was accessible, supportive, and honest. Sometimes I told people, “You’re not coping on this job. Go home, reflect, and come back to talk.” Some returned and said, “Mutiu, thank you. No one ever respected me enough to be this honest.”
What keeps you motivated in the boardroom today?
I’m a natural change agent. I thrive in organizations that are struggling or pivoting, not stable ones. Whatever the business is, it’s about people, strategy, and process.
What common governance gaps have you observed in Nigerian corporate structures?
Many see board membership as a status symbol rather than a responsibility. In Nigeria, people believe being on a board gives you power to override executives. To me, a board member should be a coach, not just an enforcer. Some scream at their MDs during meetings. prefer working collaboratively. The second gap is a disregard for governance practices. Some shareholders misuse governance structures for selfish interests. Board members must defend governance integrity. Third, there are too many shareholder-appointed directors. I prefer more independent directors who serve the business, not personal agendas.
What inspired you to co-found The Sage Center for Leadership Excellence?
My wife gifted it to me for my 70th. She noticed I mentored many people privately and felt should expand access. What long-term impact do you envision for the Sage Center?
It’s just the beginning. We hope to collaborate with other leadership centers and change the leadership mindset. A big focus will be character. Leadership without character is hollow.
You’re deeply involved in education. From Bloombreed Schools to MacPherson University and your foundation. What drives this commitment?
Since the ‘80s, was concerned about population growth and education quality. My wife also wanted to start a nursery school. We started a school to make an impact.
If you could reimagine Nigeria’s education system, what would your top priorities be?
First, high-quality teacher training. Second, restoring respect for teachers. Third, reviving technical education. Everyone wants a white-collar job. Nobody wants to learn trades like plumbing or carpentry anymore.
What is the long-term vision for the Mutiu Sunmonu Foundation? set it up to give structure to my philanthropy. I don’t know the full impact it will have in 20 years, but I believe resources are meant to serve humanity.
What’s your outlook on Nigeria’s future economically, socially, and educationally?
The outlook for now is frightening. But we cannot give up on Nigeria. We must all come together to develop Nigeria. We all can make an impact here and there, and by the time we pull it all together, we’ll be amazed at how impactful our individual and collective contributions can be.
What is your general opinion about the Gen Z generation, their approach to life, their seemingly nonchalant attitude, and the way they do things? Do you have any advice?
Well, I don’t think we can blame them. We created the environment that shaped those attitudes. Even as parents, we indulged them without fully understanding what the consequences would be. And now, we can’t just reverse it. What we need to do is find ways to slowly introduce sensibility into their thinking.
FEATHERS FRINGE,
AND FULL-ON DRAMA – WHY SUBTLETY DOESN’T WORK AT NIGERIAN EVENTS
When was the last time you saw a minimalist outfit trend at a Nigerian wedding, and it actually caught on? Exactly. Here, subtlety is for weekdays and workwear. However, when it comes to parties, weddings, galas, and naming ceremonies, we don’t subscribe to the philosophy of “less is more.” In fact, we’ve taken “extra” and made it an art form.
Feathers? Bring them. Fringe? Layer it. Crystals? The more the merrier. And don’t forget a slit that threatens to expose your soul and a corset tight enough to hold your secrets. There’s no room for quiet elegance when everyone else is trying to outshine the chandelier.
The moment the invite drops—whether it’s a glossy printed card or a “soft copy” flyer delivered via WhatsApp— the fashion panic begins. What are you wearing? Who’s styling you? Is your tailor available or already booked solid with ten Veekee James knockoffs? It’s not just about being well-dressed. You have to turn heads. A good outfit gets compliments. A great one causes a minor commotion.
And let’s not pretend we don’t love it. The aunties arrive with fans made from peacock feathers and gele so wide they block the buffet. The slay queens come in gowns that glitter like Lagos at night. The bridesmaids? Dressed like they’re about to present an award, not hold bouquets. Even the guests’ guests are dressed to trend.
There’s something in our cultural DNA that leans toward grandeur. Nigerians don’t just celebrate; we perform joy. From our lace fabrics to our doublewrapper moments, from
the elaborate aso-ebi to the custom embroidery, we’ve always taken pride in being visually expressive. Even back when photos were printed and stored in albums, your mother made sure you posed in your Sunday best next to the family car—because style mattered.
And these days? Instagram has raised the stakes. Outfit reveals are planned with precision. A soft glam video here.
A slow-motion twirl there. You need your makeup artist to catch your transformation in 4K, preferably with soft piano music and sparkly edits.
The dress has to move. That’s why fringe is back in full swing—literally.
Why feathers are no longer limited to shoulders, but now cascade across trains and bustiers. Static clothes don’t get noticed. Movement is the magic.
Designers know this. That’s why they’re not just making clothes anymore.
They’re building silhouettes that challenge gravity and logic.
And it’s not just the women. Men are finally showing up, too. Custom agbadas with velvet panels, embroidered kaftans, coordinated fans, even metallic brocade caps that glint under chandeliers. The grooms and groomsmen are styled like royalty.
Some are flying in stylists from Lagos or Abuja just to attend their friend’s wedding in Benin. Nobody wants to look “just okay” anymore—not even the men.
Of course, some might argue that the theatrics are too much. That everyone is beginning to look the same—just varying shades of sparkle and slits. That it’s become less about individuality and more about outdoing the next person.
Maybe they’re right. But in this country, nobody wants to be the guest who fades into the background. You might spend weeks planning your outfit, days sitting through fittings and alterations, and hours in makeup—just to be remembered for three seconds. And you know what? It’s worth it. Because in a room full of rich aunties, influencers, sugar babies, stylists, bridesmaids, uncles in agbada, and decorators adjusting lighting for “aesthetics,” the real win is being the person everyone is whispering about—in a good way. There’s also a deeper reason we love to go big. Our events aren’t just celebrations—they’re expressions of success. You wear that five-yard fringe and exaggerated shoulder not just because it’s beautiful, but because it says you’ve arrived. You’re doing well. You’re flourishing. That alone is reason enough to dress like the main character—even if it’s not your wedding.
So no, subtlety doesn’t work at Nigerian events. Not because it isn’t stylish or elegant, but because it doesn’t register in our language of fashion. We’re loud. We’re visual. We’re expressive. We’re extra—and we like it that way. If your outfit doesn’t deserve its own spotlight or make people pause mid-scrolling on Instagram, then darling, what’s the point?
Better call your tailor. And tell them to add feathers.
adebayo JOLAOSO
There’s something unmistakable about a photograph by Adebayo Jolaoso. Maybe it’s the way he captures fabric in motion—fluid, architectural, alive. Or the way his lens lingers on Black skin, not as a trend but as a truth. Jolaoso’s work is deliberate, reverent, and distinctly Nigerian—authentic without ever trying too hard. Raised in Lagos and trained in sociology, Adebayo’s fascination with people and culture was always going to lead him to the image. But it’s in fashion—its exaggerations, its elegance, its drama—that he found his perfect canvas. Over the years, he has quietly built a body of work that not only celebrates Nigerian designers and models but also questions how we perceive and who gets seen. His photographs have graced the pages of Thisday Style, Nataal Media, Schick, Africa Is Now, and more, and he’s worked with everyone from Lisa Folawiyo to Adidas, Mavin Records to Mai Atafo. Now, with the launch of his debut coffee table book, Eclectic, Adebayo isn’t just compiling his archive—he’s making a statement. A statement about beauty, about representation, and about what it means to document Nigerian fashion on its own terms. In this intimate conversation with Ayo Lawal, he talks about the making of Eclectic, the photographers who shaped his lens, and the future he sees for fashion storytelling in Africa.
Let’s start from the beginning—what first drew you to the world of photography, and how did fashion become your lens of choice?
Photography is something I accidentally stumbled upon years ago. It all started with my older sister taking selfies on her pink Nokia flip phone. I had always wondered how she managed to get the right images, so when she got a new phone, she handed over her pink Nokia phone to me. I started taking photos of myself to recreate what she was doing. One day, decided to take a photo of our living room and the ceiling, and then the idea started to take pictures of everything except myself.
The fashion side of things was influenced by my parents, especially my mum. My mum had a lot of fashion magazines around the house, from British Vogue to Tatler and even Arise Magazine. I remember flipping through those magazines and liking the images, but not thinking much of it. However, over time, began to gravitate towards these images as started to get curious about photography, and that’s how it all began.
You’ve called Eclectic a deeply personal project. What was the moment or experience that planted the first seed for this six-year journey? In 2018, had photographed a show, and it felt like nothing I’ve ever seen in my life. The rush, the chaos, the conflict, the creativity, the nuances, and the passion
was just something amazing to watch. believed there was a larger story to tell after took those photos; didn’t want them to just be another Instagram post. I genuinely felt this was a story here. A story of beauty, not curated beauty, just raw and unfiltered, and wanted to document that. In 2019, began to approach things more intentionally and with greater immersion. surrendered myself to the process of looking for moments, emotions, beauty, and creativity. That’s really how the journey started.
Backstage at fashion shows is often chaotic, intimate, and unfiltered— what draws you to this hidden space behind the runway?
The answer is within your question itself. The chaos, the intimacy, and the unfiltered, unpredictable nature of the environment really drew me in. You never know what you’ll get or who you’ll meet, and that makes it even more exciting. There’s so much going on, and even though captured a lot through the years, there are also moments I couldn’t capture and could never get back, and this made me more versatile in my methodology and approach to capturing backstage.
“Eclectic” is not just a book; it’s an archive, an exhibition, a statement. What do you hope readers and viewers walk away with after experiencing this body of work?
character in this visual narrative?
Lagos is a blend of it all, the positive and the negative. There’s chaos, and there’s calm, there’s conventional beauty, and there’s also unconventional beauty. I think this project doesn’t seek to create a narrative, but instead serves as a gateway into what we really are in the fashion space in Lagos. These shows you’ve mentioned have done a phenomenal job in highlighting and giving a platform to some of the most talented creatives from Africa. Lagos has always been a trade hub and a cultural melting pot, and it has also become a fashion capital. That narrative can’t be altered or forced. It just is what it is.
Representation seems to be a recurring theme in your work. Why is it important to document African fashion and black beauty from an insider’s perspective?
I strongly believe representation matters. For years, there has always been a way we are depicted internationally, which has a fetishising feeling. The depiction of fashion and beauty here had gotten a buzz globally, but it represented our creativity and beauty through a lens of fantasy and a rough aesthetic. thought that was limiting and a very narrow way to see African and Nigerian fashion. Creativity exists, and craftsmanship exists. There were multiple variations of women and men that look great in different forms, and wanted an eclectic project to capture that. I think theres a way someone who’s part of the culture will capture the culture intimately as opposed someone withnessing it from the exterior, for instance, a person who’s not Nigerian will never understand how difficult it is to work in power outages and see the resilience it took to complete a collection or how a model or assistant couldnt find a bus early because of one reason or the other to get to a show or fitting and still show up correct with full energy. Nobody can understand the intricacies it takes for us to show up like we do.
Your style combines art with documentary realism. How do you strike the balance between aesthetic beauty and authenticity?
I think the technical skills it takes to use photography as a medium to tell an artistic story matter, but also think you need to feel what you’re photographing to know what to look for or what to photograph. always had it in mind to document humans as well as human progress and contribute to the visual language, along with an Archive of what fashion in Nigeria really looks like. However, I also love fashion, and you can see that in how I captured garments and details in this project. also believe that while documenting the real world, there’s also beauty around us, whether it’s effortless or curated; it’s all still there, and it’s magnificent. So, while set out to capture great clothes and creatives at work, also discovered how beautiful we really are and what beautiful things we were creating. think things naturally balance themselves out when you also stop overthinking it and just enjoy and be part of what you’re documenting.
What were some of the challenges you faced in compiling six years of work into a single cohesive project like Eclectic?
The biggest challenge we faced was narrowing down the photos. This was because, through the years, had captured thousands of images, and also didn’t want to be biased and pick only images I would love, so it was difficult letting some images go. Another tough part was striking a balance between images with lots of emotion and stories, and those with images that are strictly focused on beauty and some vanity. We had to look for what was contrasting and what was complementing.
Eclectic has something for everyone. It’s a visual archive that showcases our growth as an industry and group. It’s also a visual love letter to the industry, as these images were captured with empathy and care. It’s also a statement because it’s a story for us by us. know I can’t control what people will see when they experience this body of work, but my hope is to leave everyone inspired and making sure this is a gateway to our creativity and beauty.
There’s a clear emotional thread running through eclectic, from anticipation to exhaustion to joy. How do you capture these fleeting, honest moments without intruding on them?
Aside from speed and paying a lot of attention, think it’s important to immerse yourself in the process. You have to become one with the people who you’re working with. It shows a little in the end product when you’re detached from what you’re photographing. I’ve built strong friendships and long-lasting relationships with the people I’ve photographed in this environment, and most importantly, approach it with a lot of empathy and patience. There’s a lot to capture, but you can’t rush the process.
You’ve documented fashion weeks like Lagos Fashion Week, GTBank Fashion Weekend, and Arise Fashion Week. How would you describe Lagos as a
The designers of the book (John Asuquo) and worked really closely on this project for 2 years and some change, and there were days we were both super tired and had other things going on in our lives, but think the idea itself and how ambitious it was kept us going. It was the first of its kind here, and it needed to be done well. This in itself was a challenge. However, we really believed in what we were doing.
The eclectic exhibition had a strong response—over 300 guests, rich conversations, and deep engagement. How did it feel to see your work resonate with so many?
It felt great. was ecstatic. Seeing people know and complete strangers walk in and take home with them such a profound experience and story was something beyond beautiful. I couldn’t be more grateful to everyone who showed up, my team, and the gallery, who we worked together on this. Most importantly, I’m glad it started a conversation, a conversation around celebrating us in real time, people in the fahsion space are not immune to human experiences, our creative die, go through depression, job hop to look for better income and also live life and thinks important we celebrate our work and what we’ve contributed, no matter how little.
Looking ahead, what’s next? Are there more stories you’re hoping to tell, or is there another chapter of Eclectic still to come?
There’s more to come, but I have to leave it as a surprise for everyone. However, just know we’re cooking and it won’t disappoint.
IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP PRIVATE… OR JUST A SECRET?
15 SIGNS YOU MIGHT BE THE HIDDEN
PARTNER
In 2025, being “lowkey” in love is in vogue. People are tired of performing affection for Instagram, and privacy has become a prized possession—especially in Nigeria, where everything from your waist trainer to your weekend baecation ends up as gist. But let’s be honest, there’s a big difference between keeping your relationship private… and keeping it secret. Privacy means you’re setting healthy boundaries. Secrecy means you’re hiding—or worse, being hidden. So, how do you tell which one you’re in? Here are 15 signs your relationship might be a full-blown secret masquerading as “privacy.”
1. You’ve Never Met Any of Their Friends
You’ve been dating for months, but you don’t know their people. No hangouts, no birthdays, no casual runins. Not even the one friend that overshares on Twitter. If you’re not in their social circle at all, chances are—you’re being kept out intentionally.
2. You’re Completely Missing from Their Socials
You’re not asking to be in a Valentine’s photoshoot. But when they post their lunch, their sneakers, their dog, their generator—and you, the main course, are invisible? Nah. A private person may not overshare. But a secretive one makes sure you’re nowhere to be found.
3. They Introduce You as “My Friend” When someone who matters to them shows up, they freeze. “Oh, this is my… friend.” And you? You’re left smiling awkwardly like you just auditioned for Friend Zone: The Series.
4. They Panic When You Take a Selfie Together You bring out your phone, and suddenly, they duck like you’re holding a gun. They say, “I hate pictures,” but they’ve posted three different selfies this week in their car mirror. Pick a struggle.
5. You’re Always Left Out of Important Moments Birthday dinner? Not invited. Work promotion party? Not invited. Family function? You didn’t even hear about it. Private relationships still involve inclusion. Secret ones come with FOMO and confusion.
6. They’re Vague About the Future
Ask, “Where is this going?” and they hit you with “Let’s just go with the flow.” That flow? It leads straight to heartbreak island. A secret-keeper always avoids defining the relationship.
7. They Use Culture as a Cover-Up
“My culture doesn’t support public relationships.”
“My family is very traditional.”
“My village people are too much.”
Valid concerns? Sometimes. But if it’s used to excuse your total invisibility, then it’s not culture—it’s cover.
8. Their Communication Is Shady
You only get voice notes after midnight. They never pick up
your calls in front of certain people. And they always call back with, “I’ll explain later.” Spoiler alert: they rarely do.
9. Their Ex Has No Idea You Exist—And They’re Still Close If their ex still calls them “babe” and sends memes, and your partner doesn’t set boundaries because “it’s not that deep,” it’s not just poor communication. It’s a sign you’re not a confirmed part of their present.
10. You Feel Like a Secret—and It Hurts
This one’s important. You don’t feel safe, you don’t feel claimed, and every time you raise the issue, they gaslight you with “You’re overthinking it.” You’re not. If you constantly feel hidden, that’s your intuition waving a red flag.
11. They’re Possessive, But Not Proud They get jealous when someone flirts with you, monitor your Insta stories, and sulk when you’re out—but still won’t claim you publicly. That’s not love. That’s control dressed up as exclusivity.
12. They Keep Promising “The Right Time”
“We’ll go public after my promotion.”
“Let’s wait until my family is less stressed.”
“Let’s announce it when Mercury is no longer in retrograde.”
Excuses with expiry dates that keep getting moved.
13. Your Name Isn’t in Their World
You’re not in their stories, their day-to-day conversations, or their plans. They talk like a single person in public, and even you start second-guessing your own reality. Love shouldn’t feel like an invisible contract.
14. You Keep Making Excuses for Them
You find yourself constantly justifying why they act distant.
“They’re just busy.”
“They’re not really a phone person.”
“They’re healing.” Sis, they’re not healing. They’re hiding. From accountability—and from you.
15. Your Gut Says Something’s Off
Let’s not underestimate this. If your instinct is screaming, but you’re too afraid to check their follower list or ask direct questions, that’s not “privacy”—that’s spiritual warfare. Trust your gut. It rarely lies.
YOU’RE
NOT LAZY.
YOU’RE JUST BURNT OUT
There’s a kind of tiredness that no amount of sleep can fix. You’ve probably felt it. You wake up groggy, despite having had eight hours of sleep. You stare at your laptop for 45 minutes, write two lines, delete them, and give up. You miss deadlines, avoid calls, and feel too exhausted even to reply
“I’m fine” to someone asking how you’re doing. Somewhere between work stress, family obligations, power outages, and the sheer pressure to keep up appearances, something inside you has quietly short-circuited. You think, Maybe I’m just lazy. But you’re not. You’re burnt out.
The thing about burnout is that it rarely arrives loudly. It creeps in slowly, disguised as stress you can handle. First, you’re just a little tired. Then you start snapping at people, losing
interest in things you used to enjoy. Your motivation evaporates. Your body begins to ache. You find yourself fantasising about quitting your job, disappearing, or maybe just staying in bed for a month. It doesn’t feel like a crisis—it feels like failure. And so, naturally, you assume the problem is you.
But it’s not laziness. Laziness doesn’t come with guilt, shame, and chronic exhaustion. Laziness doesn’t feel like grief. Burnout, on the other hand, is what happens when your body and mind can no longer carry the load you’ve been forcing them to lift. And for many Nigerians, that load is heavier than we admit.
We live in a country where productivity is worshipped. Where rest is seen as indulgence. Where doing the absolute most is the bare minimum. You’re expected to juggle your job, side hustle, family responsibilities, social obligations, and somehow still emerge well-dressed at your cousin’s wedding in Owerri without a hair out of place. To admit burnout is to question all the structures that reward exhaustion.
It means stepping off the hamster wheel and asking, Why am like this? And if you sit with that question long enough, you start to hear the real answers: Because you’ve been in survival mode for too long. Because you equate your worth with your output. Because capitalism, hustle culture, and Nigerian respectability politics have convinced you that peace is
earned, not inherent. Pulling yourself out of burnout is not about becoming productive again. That’s the trap—thinking rest is only useful if it helps you return to work. No. Real recovery is about reclaiming yourself, piece by piece. It’s about learning to do nothing and not feel bad about it. It’s sitting with silence until your nervous system remembers what calm feels like. It’s choosing soft joy over forced ambition.
It may mean saying no to things you used to say yes to. It may mean unplugging from social media, taking a break from that WhatsApp group, or telling your loved ones, “I’m not available this week.” Not because you’re being selfish, but because you’re preserving what’s left of your peace. And slowly, it begins to return—your curiosity, your humour, your desire to engage. But it doesn’t come with a trumpet. It comes like a whisper: I feel like myself again.
The hardest part? Giving yourself permission. Permission to not be on top of everything. Permission to disappoint people. Permission to honour your limits. It sounds simple, but for a generation raised on “God helps those who help themselves,” it’s radical. Especially here, where being tired is a badge of honour and rest is mistaken for laziness.
But laziness isn’t what makes you want to shut out the world. Burnout is. And the sooner we start calling it what it is, the sooner we can begin to heal.
Rest is not a reward. It’s your right. And when you finally take it, you may find the version of yourself you’ve been missing all along—still there, still whole, just waiting for permission to breathe.
