Recently, I sat quietly in a barbershop discussion among young men—mostly unemployed, some full of complaints, and one proudly blaming his “rich” uncles and brothers for his suffering. The others nodded in agreement, echoing his frustrations. I stayed silent for a while. Then I asked the ringleader: “How old are you?” He replied, “32.”
That was it. I remembered something my nephew, a Major in the army, once posted:
“If you are 30 and still blaming your background, now know it—you are the background!”
Let that sink in.
I turned to the guy again. “You said your uncles are rich. Do you have any handwork?”
His response: “No, but I’m a degree holder.”
That’s when I hit him with the reality many shy away from:
“Mechanics, barbers, tailors, cleaners, dry cleaners—these people with ‘mere handwork’ collect money from your so-called ‘rich uncles’ every day.”
They don’t beg. They offer value. They offer skills. And the world pays them.
I watched his mood shift. His ego deflated. But that’s when growth begins. When I was about to leave, he stopped me. “Sir, can I get your number? I want to discuss some ideas with you.”
Now that’s the spark I live for.
Another time, the local scavenger I fondly call Dan Sokoto came to my house. He’s always scruffy, dusty, carrying metal scraps. I hadn’t seen him for two weeks. When he returned, he greeted me happily.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“My wife gave birth in Sokoto. I just came back this morning.”
I assumed he took the night bus.
“No sir,” he replied with a grin. “I took the morning flight.”
Wait—what?! A scavenger took a flight to and from Sokoto?!
Do you know how many civil servants with pressed suits and “big man” shoes can’t even afford that?
Yet here’s a man—dusty, sweaty, mocked by society—flying across the country to see his family. Not through pity. Not through connections. But through the dignity of labour.
Then I stumbled across a story on Facebook by Adams Mustapha.
Meet Malam Rabiu.
He came to Abuja as an Almajiri. Today, he’s a corporate nail cutter.
Not a banker. Not a tech bro. A nail cutter—making ₦10,000 daily, cutting nails with pride and precision. He wears neat clothes, speaks well, and earns more than some “graduates” with four certificates and zero skills.
Here’s the truth:
> Degrees without skills are decoration.
> Pride without productivity is poverty in disguise.
> If you’re still waiting for your uncle to “settle” you at 32, you’re the architect of your own delay.
The world no longer pays for titles; it pays for solutions. Mechanics solve engine problems. Tailors solve fashion needs. Carpenters build dreams. Barbers restore confidence. Nail cutters groom royalty.
What solution do you offer?
This article is not to mock you. It is to WAKE YOU UP. Your dream job may never come. Your uncle may never remember you. Your certificate may gather dust. But your hands are with you.
Use them.
Learn a trade. Start small. Think big. Grow daily.
Stop blaming your background. Build the life you desire.
Because no one owes you success.
But your hands?
They owe you a future.
#SkillUpNow
#DignityOfLabour
#BeYourOwnBreakthrough
#StopComplainingStartCreating
