NEPA, My Arch-Nemesis (A Rant from a Tired Nigerian Student)

There’s a certain kind of exhaustion that comes with being Nigerian. It’s not just the regular tiredness from a long day or the occasional frustration at things not going as planned. No—it’s a deep, lingering weariness that starts from birth and never quite leaves you.

From the moment you're born in this country, you are handed a silent agreement: you will adapt to chaos. You will make jokes out of pain. You will build routines around uncertainty. You will learn to function in a system that actively works against your peace of mind.

Now, imagine being a student on top of that.

That’s not just stress. That’s a masterclass in survival.

Yesterday, I found myself living through one of the most frustrating reminders of this national dysfunction—a complete power outage that lasted the entire day. At first, it seemed like a minor inconvenience. I told myself, "Light will be back soon." But as the hours stretched on and my phone battery dropped lower and lower, the reality sank in. There was no end in sight.

Eventually, my phone died. And with it, my connection to the outside world, to the people I care about, and to the platforms that give me a bit of joy and distraction from everything else. I hadn’t planned for this. I had things to do, messages to respond to, articles to post, language lessons to complete. But none of that could happen. I sat in the dark, quite literally, and felt the weight of it all.

And as if that wasn’t enough, it started to rain. Heavily.

If you’re Nigerian, you already know what that means. When there's already a blackout and then rain falls on top of it, you can forget about having electricity for the next 24 to 72 hours—at least. The rain becomes the final nail in the coffin of any hope you had. The sound of the downpour, instead of being calming or romantic, just feels like thunder laughing in your face.

It’s one thing to be in darkness. It’s another to be soaked in it, powerless and isolated.

I kept thinking—how is this normal? How is it acceptable that in 2025, we still treat electricity as a rare luxury instead of a basic necessity? How have we normalized living without something so essential, to the point that people now run charging businesses? Yes, you read that right. There are places where you pay to charge your devices–this country has reached a point where people pay just to charge their phones. Something so basic has become a service you queue for. If that’s not madness, I don’t know what is.

Honestly, I’m tired.

Being Nigerian is only fun if you don’t actually live in Nigeria.

And this wasn’t just about my phone being dead:

I couldn’t post or read anything on Substack.

My 235-day Duolingo streak almost came to an end (thankfully, I had a streak freeze in place).

No TikTok, no updates.

I missed BTS’s first live appearance together since their return—which I’d been looking forward to for weeks.

My parents were worried sick because they couldn’t reach me.

All over one simple thing—power supply.

One day, I’ll write a full, no-holds-barred essay on all the creative ways this country breaks your spirit. But for today, I’ll stop here before I stress myself further.