Money Madness and Insane Conspicuous Consumption Among Nigerians

Today, I want to talk about a troubling phenomenon that has persisted among us as Nigerians—our obsession with money, luxury, and status, a pattern that has led to what I call “MONEY Madness” and insane conspicuous consumption.

There is a book titled The Dual Mandate by Lord Lugard, written in 1922, that provides some interesting observations about Africans, particularly those of us in the southern part of the Sahara. Lugard described our affinity for fashion, enjoyment, and grandiosity, even when it is impractical or uncomfortable. Some of what he wrote still rings true today.

There is something unsettling about how we, as Nigerians, handle money. The moment money enters our hands, it seems to immediately leave our community and our economy, going elsewhere to enrich other nations. Look around, and you will see the evidence: young Nigerians flaunting expensive necklaces and pendants worth millions, buying cars worth 200 million naira, and showcasing their wealth on social media. But take a closer look at where these individuals come from—often, they are from underdeveloped communities with poor infrastructure, bad roads, and no factories providing jobs.

It’s ironic. We drive luxury cars that we cannot even use properly because of our terrible roads. We wear clothes, use gadgets, and speak languages all created by other races. Even getting a visa to leave Nigeria is a monumental task. You’ll be asked for documents tracing your family history just to prove your legitimacy. Meanwhile, in countries like Ethiopia or Rwanda, citizens are proud to stay in their homelands because their societies are functional and progressing.

At one point, Nigeria was so wealthy that we gave loans to the International Monetary Fund (IMF). Now, all we seem to do is steal from our own country, funneling resources into personal luxuries that serve no real purpose. We engage in grand, conspicuous consumption, not to build or improve anything, but simply to intimidate one another with our displays of wealth. We buy wine bottles worth hundreds of thousands, spend millions on frivolous indulgences, and even in the church, we see this same behavior. Pastors extort money from congregants to buy private jets or build oversized auditoriums.

The root of this madness is a desire to emulate others, to indulge in the hedonic treadmill—a concept I’ll explain further in the comment section. We are constantly chasing after more, never satisfied with what we have. This behavior leads to corruption, crime, and exploitation, especially among those who lead and influence others.

But what are we really achieving with all this wealth? As I always say, we can live simpler lives and still make a great impact without being a nuisance to society. Personally, I don’t need a large congregation or a massive church. I’m satisfied with the life I lead and the way I’m able to influence people, even through my small platform. For example, a mother in the United States recently called me, asking her son to play my teachings for her on YouTube. I don’t need a mega church for that kind of impact. My platform reaches 100,000 subscribers—a capacity far greater than any physical auditorium.