Work, in theory, is structured. You apply, you get hired, you follow a clearly defined role, and in exchange, you get paid. There are supposed to be boundaries, start time, closing time, and responsibilities that begin and end somewhere.

But then there is the Nigerian version of work. The one where job descriptions behave more like suggestions, and closing time depends less on the clock and more on your employer’s mood. The one where your salary remains fixed, but your responsibilities quietly multiply in the background.

Every May 1st, Workers' Day rolls around, with speeches and celebrations. We wanted to go beyond the speeches and celebrations.

So, we asked ten young Nigerians simple questions: What does work actually cost you? We gave them three angles, absurd workplace experiences, tasks outside their roles, and the moment salary stopped making sense.

Some answers are funny. Some were quietly exhausting. Most are both at the same time. This is what they said.

“My closing time is 4 PM. I leave at 8:30.” — Vwede*, M

Vwede’s experience reflected a familiar pattern: agreements that exist only on paper. His contract clearly states a 4 PM closing time, but in reality, his day stretches to 8 or 8:30 PM, even on what he considers a “good day.” Weekends, too, quietly became part of the job, without any formal acknowledgment.

For him, it was not just the hours, but also the attitude. Clients often approach him with a sense of superiority, as though offering a service automatically places him beneath them. “Just because I’m offering you service doesn’t mean I’m below you,” he said, pointing to a mindset he believes is deeply ingrained.

He takes on extra responsibilities, but now with limits. Although saying ” No” has caused tension, but he has accepted the reality, especially as he navigates a salary that no longer reflects his reality. For now, like many others, he continues working while actively searching for something better.

“Constant complaints about basic things.” — Timilehin*, M

Timilehin’s answer is brief, but it carries weight. For him, the most absurd part isn’t the workload—”it’s the constant friction that exists over asking for basic things”. The kind of environment where energy is spent managing reactions rather than doing meaningful work.

Regarding tasks outside his job description, he approaches extra responsibilities with intention. If a task contributes to his growth or is genuinely necessary, he steps in, but he is careful not to let it become a pattern.

Interestingly, his financial reality stands apart from most others here. When asked about the gap between salary and cost of living, his answer is straightforward: it hasn’t happened, he live within his means.

“My role expanded, and nobody said anything or informed me.” — Lucia*, F

Lucia’s experience highlights a quiet form of workplace shift, the kind that happens gradually, without formal acknowledgment. Hired as a communications manager, her role initially centered on community management, but over time, it expanded into other roles.

None of these additions came with an updated job description. They simply became part of what was expected, revealing a workplace culture where capacity is often treated as limitless. “I participate,” she says, “but it wasn’t what I signed up for.”

She is also navigating the now-familiar salary dilemma. Her current earnings no longer align with her living reality, but leaving without an alternative isn’t viable. So she remains, working while actively searching, holding two realities at once.

“Low wages.” — Bernard*, M

Bernard’s response was quite direct. When asked about the most absurd part of the Nigerian labour market, his answer? Low wages, with no attempt to soften the statement.

He answered that he took on tasks outside his job description, and equally clearly states that he is not okay with it. There’s no attempt from his end to justify or rationalize the situation.

When it comes to the salary versus cost of living, he continues working till he finds something better. The brevity of his answers doesn’t reduce the reality; if anything, it reveals a kind of fatigue where the experience has become too routine to explain in detail.

“My boss suggested overnight work—for the same pay.” — Peculiar*, M

Peculiar’s turning point at his previous workplace came in a moment that felt really absurd. Working at a fashion design shop, he was asked to take on night shifts without any corresponding pay increase, a suggestion that exposed how little his time was valued.

That experience shaped his perspective and opened his eyes to a new reality. “Nobody wants to enrich you if it doesn’t enrich them,” he said. It was a harsh realization, but one he believes the system forces people to confront early.

His extra responsibilities extended beyond typical work tasks, buying alcohol for his boss, and even being asked for a massage. That request marked his limit. Eventually, he chose to leave, stepping away from the job entirely to focus on his university journey.

“I took up four roles in one without prior notice.” — Faith*, F

Faith has had quite an experience. As a social media manager, her responsibilities were clearly outlined—manage pages, plan content, and contribute ideas. But over time, those boundaries began to dissolve, slowly at first, then completely.

While she was completely aware that in some roles, social media managers were to take up some extra tasks, her job description didn't include that at all.

She found herself taking on graphic design, video editing, and elements of brand strategy, effectively doing the work of multiple roles without any formal change in title or compensation. What started as occasional support became a permanent expectation.

She recognizes the skills she has gained, but that doesn’t erase the imbalance. Financially, she remains in the same position, working while searching for better opportunities. “A bird in hand is worth two in the bush,” she says.

“If you’re tired, someone else will take your place.” — Avuwa*, F

Avuwa’s experience as a part-time teacher reveals how flexible roles can become rigid in practice. While her contract allowed her to resume work anytime between 8 and 10 AM, the unspoken rule was more strict, as arriving after 8:30 was seen as laziness.

She was expected to stay until the work was done, no matter how late that meant staying without any compensation for the extra hours, and exhaustion was treated as a personal weakness rather than a systemic issue.

When she raised concerns, the response they received was familiar and always the same: everyone feels this way, and if you don’t keep up, someone else will replace you.

According to her, the school owner had no regard for workers’ mental health or well-being. The idea that mental and physical exhaustion is just part of the job, according to her, had been normalized.

She was not comfortable with the additional demands placed on her, and she chose to leave.

“Rudeness.” — Bameyi*, M

For Bameyi, the cost of work wasn’t hours or salary, but in daily interactions. His experience centers on ”rudeness ”—from employers, and others who treat professional relationships as hierarchies rather than exchanges.

Being spoken to poorly, repeatedly, creates its own kind of exhaustion, one that often goes unacknowledged in conversations about work.

He continues to take on tasks outside his role, and like many others, he remains in his position while searching for something better, a trend that is becoming increasingly common in the workplace.

“They said I shouldn't get tired because I’m young.” — Roqiba*, F

Roqiba’s experience sits at the intersection of workload and dismissal. She was expected to manage classes, maintain lesson notes, and run errands simultaneously, a combination that left little room for rest or error.

When she raised concerns, the response shifted from the workload to her identity. “You’re young and unmarried,” she was told, “young people don’t get tired.” It countered her exhaustion as invalid, rather than addressing the demands placed on her.

She practically chose not to take on tasks outside her role, even though it affected how she was perceived as an employee. At the time, she continued working because the role was temporary.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish.” — Temituokpe*, F

Temituokpe’s story begins with a light-hearted comment on her previous boss, but she still went ahead and told the story anyway.

Her story started with flexibility and ended with a lesson she didn't see coming. At the early stage of her workplace, taking on extra responsibilities felt reasonable; there were limited staff, and everyone had to contribute beyond their roles.

Over time, that flexibility became an expectation. The additional tasks remained, but the compensation didn’t change, and attempts to push back were met with emotional pressure and guilt tripping. “After everything I’ve done for you,how many bosses will do what I’m doing for their staff?” her boss would always say to her, countering her boundaries as ingratitude.

At some point, the guilt trip started working, and she decided to accommodate, to just chill, the whole excesses from her previous boss. That, she now admits, was a very big mistake. One she did not fully recognise until she was already on her way out. "I was trying to be a good employee," she said, "until the thing choked me."

Eventually, she left, but the experience altered her view on how she approaches work. Her advice now is simple: don’t start what you can’t sustain.

What This Actually Reveals

Across different industries and experiences, the same themes repeat themselves. Work expands without structure, job descriptions lose their meaning, and salaries struggle to keep up with the cost of living.

This is not to dismiss the fact that some people have supportive employers, healthy workplaces, and respectful relationships with clients. But increasingly, it is the opposite experiences, those marked by exhaustion, blurred boundaries, and quiet exploitation, that are becoming more common.

But beneath the frustration, people are adapting, learning, setting boundaries where they can, and leaving when the opportunity allows. Even those who stay are not static; they are searching, planning, recalibrating.

This is not passive endurance. It is active navigation, and for many Nigerian workers, that navigation is the job behind the job.