January is arguably the longest and most challenging month for salaried workers, especially young families. It comes right after the heavy spending of Christmas and New Year festivities—a period often marked by gifts, travel, and celebrations that leave wallets lighter than they were in December. By the time January arrives, many households are already feeling the financial strain, yet the month brings with it some of the most unavoidable expenses: house rent, second-term school fees, utility bills, and other recurring obligations that don’t pause for anyone. For young families trying to balance limited incomes, January can feel like a relentless test of budgeting and financial discipline. Some may even find themselves borrowing, cutting back on essentials, or postponing personal plans just to meet these obligations.
Amid this reality, I can’t help but reflect on the kind of energy and loyalty that many Nigerians pour into supporting politicians online. Social media is filled with fervent debates, heated defenses of government officials, and passionate advocacy that sometimes borders on personal risk—people lose friendships, attract hostility, or get drawn into conflicts just for standing by their chosen political figures. But when I pause to consider what ordinary citizens actually gain from this loyalty, the answer is often strikingly clear: very little, if anything. Most politicians and government appointees do not pay school fees, rent, or help shoulder the financial burdens of their supporters. What citizens receive in return is usually intangible—promises, gestures that may never materialize, or access to programs that are often limited, poorly implemented, or delayed.
The contrast is stark: while families are navigating the harsh realities of January, struggling to meet essential needs, they are simultaneously defending public officials whose actions rarely translate into tangible relief. It highlights a broader disconnect between political allegiance and personal benefit—a gap that often fuels frustration, disillusionment, and a quiet, simmering resentment among citizens. It’s a reminder that while political debates and online advocacy can feel urgent and meaningful, they rarely pay the rent, cover school fees, or ease the real pressures that define everyday life.
Published by Chuks Nwachuku
