Written By: Zainab Bakare

They say we are the future, the African youth, but, they forget that the future is not one-size-fits-all.

In WhatsApp groups, we share memes about hardship. On X, we chant “japa” like a prayer. At weddings, we bump into old friends who “made it,” and wonder what we are doing wrong. Because even though we're all young, we are not all equal.

We don't talk enough about it, but beneath our shared slang and sapa jokes are quiet class divisions — invisible borders that separate the youth who have options from those who are just hoping for one. We all live in the same country, but we are not living the same lives.

Here are the five unspoken social classes among African youths today:

1. The Connected

This is the class where power is inherited, not earned. They are the sons of politicians, the daughters of billionaires, the cousins of governors and ministry directors. They don’t need to write CVs — their last names do the talking.

They don’t queue, they get called. Jobs open before they apply. Businesses get registered overnight. If the system is a locked door, they were born with the key. Their world is not filled with motivational quotes, but with quiet confidence because they've never had to doubt if things would work out.

They attend events most people read about. Internships? At Shell or Chevron. NYSC? Optional or done in the office of an “uncle” who signs attendance slips from a restaurant in Dubai. Vacations? Yearly to the Maldives or the city of Eiffel Tower, and, sometimes both.

They are not hated because they are young and rich. They are resented because they move through a country that holds others hostage and call it “hardwork.” It is not their fault they were born privileged, but it stings when they mistake that privilege for superiority

And while they post “hard work pays” on Instagram, the rest of us are left asking, “Whose hard work, exactly?”

Photo Credit: The Sudan Times

2. The Aspiring

This group is constantly reaching, always preparing. They are the ones flooding LinkedIn with certificates, learning Spanish from Duolingo, retweeting scholarship posts, and stacking side hustles like building blocks.

They do not have the connections, but they have got the grit. They write proposals like social media posts. They track visa trends. They dream of japa, not out of hate for home, but exhaustion from trying to make it here. And when you hear them say "Canada is the plan," understand that it is not fantasy, it is survival.

They are the most active on social media, the most likely to attend free webinars, and the least likely to get picked for paid opportunities. Still, they don’t stop trying. Their mantra? “The hustle must pay.”

They register for everything. They carry dreams too big for this country to contain. Yet, their emails remain filled with rejection letters and “we regret to inform you” responses.

Still, they believe and that is what makes them the engine of change, even if the world has not noticed yet.

3. The Entrepreneurial

They do not have time for theories. They are too busy trying to make money. These are the business-savvy, the serial hustlers — from thrift sellers to tech bros to the hair vendors.

Some are university dropouts while others are graduates who gave up on job hunting after seeing what “entry-level” really means. They turned frustration into innovation. Where others saw unemployment, they saw a market.

They wake up to fulfill orders, market products, manage three phones, and still find time to post “DM for prices” on WhatsApp. Their success is built on sweat, not structure. No one gave them a head start — they built the track themselves.

They may not use big grammar or wear suits, but they are paying rent, feeding families, and hiring staff. Their currency is resilience and their biggest weapon is consistency.

The world may not validate them yet, but their bank apps are starting to. Slowly, they are building a future, one sale at a time.

Photo Credit: Nairametrics

4. The Struggling

These are the ones the economy forgot. They exist in overcrowded homes, under overhead bridges, and broken systems. Some are street hawkers, bus conductors, mechanics. Others are students in public universities constantly shut down by strikes.

They do not have time for hot takes or X banters. Their biggest goal is surviving each day without falling off the cliff entirely. While others ask about internships, they ask where the next meal is coming from.

They are not lazy — they are just overwhelmed. Overwhelmed from a system that does not cease to fail and kick them in their guts daily. And while others are worried about “branding,” they are worried about breakfast.

They are proof that talent is not enough. In a country like ours, who you know still matters more than what you can do. And they know nobody.

When the government releases youth-targeted programs, this group does not hear about them. Even if they did, they wouldn’t believe it applied to them. They have been left behind for too long to keep hoping.

5. The Disengaged

This set has stopped dreaming. Not out of choice but because life beat the hope out of them. They are the ones who don’t care if fuel is N700 or N7,000. They have stopped voting and they laugh when you say “there is still hope.”

These youth are not idle — they are numb, worn out by disappointment. The scholarships they applied for were rigged. The leaders they trusted betrayed them. The future they planned no longer exists.

Some hide in humour while many just float through each day, disconnected from both struggle and success. They scroll mindlessly, sleep aimlessly, and avoid conversations about goals. They are the ghosts of a generation that deserved better.

And sometimes, all they want is a nap, not because they are lazy, but because reality is exhausting. Hope, for them, feels like a luxury — something they can no longer afford.

We Can't Fix What is Nameless

We throw the word “youth” around like it means the same thing to everyone when it doesn’t. While some are sprinting through doors held open by family names, some are pushing rocks uphill with nothing but grit. Others are standing still, not because they are lazy, but because they were never handed a map.

Until we admit these differences, we will keep mistaking visibility for equality. We will design policies for the loudest, while ignoring the silent. We will measure progress by the few who made it, not the many still left behind.

If we really care about the future, we need to stop pretending the starting line is the same for all of us. Because the truth is, we can’t build a collective future on divided realities.

Not when some are flying business class and others are still trying to find the road to the airport.

Written By: Bakare Zainab