Two Sundays ago my neighbour celebrated his daughters first birthday. From my room, I could hear all the merriment typical of a children’s party; the occasional call and response of “hello children — hello uncle” between the MC and the kids in attendance, the occasional sound of applause, and chants of “hurray” in response to “hip hip hip”. And of course, music; a very loud repetition of a selected playlist of about five or six trending songs. Before I could complain about the DJ’s inadequacy with the tireless repetition of the same songs, my friend who was visiting at the time beat me to it, “Which kain DJ be dis sef? He’s been playing the same songs all afternoon.”
Later, when I saw my friend off, I realized the party outside was not as big as I suspected, or perhaps, expected. There were no balloons, no decor, not even a canopy for an outdoor party. The party started three hours before, but there were no signs of Jollof rice, only biscuit sachets and small juice packets littered the surrounding. And the supposed DJ, who was my other neighbour, was playing songs from his phone connected to a stereo. At that point in time, the kids were already been handed shared slices of the birthday cake, so I knew there was little or no hope for party Jollof. And I was right.
“Ah! Jollof ke? We didn’t cook anything” my neighbour replied me when I jokingly asked if I would be getting food later. He explained that he actually didn’t want an elaborate party, but that his wife would not hear of it. “Left to me, I wanted to just mark the day.” By “mark” he meant getting a cake, and a photographer to come take pictures of his daughter beautifully dressed, with the cake, in the quiet of their home. But upon his wife’s insistence, they had to “do something”, something being the makeshift party that I was then witnessing. “Let’s be realistic, the country is hard,” he said to me. “I would have loved a big celebration for my daughters first birthday but I just had to put a lot of things into consideration.”
It is the end of the year, three weeks to the yuletide at the time, barely a month into a new year, and several months shy of the first quarter. Mr. Alao, my neighbour, still had Christmas shopping to do; food, and clothes to get for the festive celebration for his wife and two daughters. His first daughter would be resuming school in January and he had to set her tuition aside. His rent would also be due by March. I perceived these were some of the things he had to “put into consideration”. Mr. Alao had his scale of preference, and having an elaborate birthday party was his least pressing need, hence he had to sacrifice that to save for other things. It was his opportunity cost.
This year, many Nigerians like Mr. Alao, started practicing the basic lessons of microeconomics, myself included. It is true that making choices is a habitual part of human existence, however the current state of the economy has forced Nigerians to become overly conscious of the gravity of microeconomic decisions. Now more than ever, people are beginning to realise the significance of having, and tenaciously sticking to a budget while seeking varying means to cut cost on expenditure.
As much as Nigerians love to party, a contracting GDP, weakening currency, constant inflation, and increased unemployment rate, are currently dictating the trend on things that are really important to us.
This year there were less parties and less champagne. Although, this depended on the number of zeros in one’s income, personal value, and the type of event. It is no secret that Nigerians attach a great deal of value to certain festivities like weddings and funerals because of their cultural significance, but also because they are often a yardstick for measuring one’s affluence on the social scene. This explains why in spite of an economic crisis, we did not necessarily have fewer weddings, but may have adapted the quality of the celebration to a leaner budget, according to event vendor, Titi Ezeagwula. “Nigerians are fun loving people. A typical Nigerian man cares more about today, than tomorrow. He believes that tomorrow will take care of itself, and that he has to live life to the fullest. So if his daughter has to get married, she will get married. A recession notwithstanding.”
As an event vendor, Titi Ezeagwula of Amazn Plus Events in Lagos, said although there was no significant decline in the number of weddings as opposed to corporate events, which reduced drastically, profit is a lot leaner for event vendors. “We do business but profit is smaller,” she told me. According to her, event vendors now make about half the profit they usually would from organising one event under a friendlier economy. “The way a lot of vendors have decided to approach business is; rather than make N500 thousand from one event, I’ll do two events and still make my N500 thousand,” Mrs. Ezeagwula explained.
Mr. Nnortuowa Abi-Bezam who runs a self-named photography company in the garden city of Port Harcourt told me that with regards to certain festivities like birthdays, child christening, and dedication, half his clientele patronage dropped this year. But it remained business as usual for the other half. “Nothing changed for the high end earners,” he said. “They pretty much patronised me at the same usual rate.” This is a sentiment Mrs Ezeagwula also expressed, “Not everyone is crying recession. Those who do international business, and those who get paid in foreign currencies are not complaining,” she said to me. Such clients are more than happy to pay good money for value. Such clients still throw lavish parties, and organize opulent weddings and funerals in the midst of scarcity.
However, some average middle-class Nigerians have learnt to approach things differently by not having lavish wedding receptions or sacrificing receptions all together. “After the solemnization in church, they just share small chops or food in take away packs and head home.” Those who want a “standard”, not necessarily lavish wedding but cannot afford it, simply save towards it. Mrs Ezeagwula has clients whose weddings are billed for the last quarter of 2017. “Some people set money aside so that when it is time for execution, it is not a big deal.” The situation is no different with funerals, as Mr. Seye, a business development manager at a funeral home explained that a lot of people were postponing funerals so they could raise money for the festivity.
“Business has been slow for us this year. People are being very careful with the way they spend money on funerals. People are now cutting their cloths according to their material, not even their size anymore,” said Mr. Seye. The Central Bank of Nigeria’s constant change of monetary and foreign exchange policies has had a huge impact on the funeral industry, especially as the cost of most imported goods such as caskets and urns are now double the price. Although the number of funerals did not decline, harsh economic conditions introduced a new trend in the type of funerals Nigerians began to opt for – “standard funerals” that would fit within a determined budget.
“The state of the economy has little or no effect on the number of funerals. Recession or not, people will die, and they must be buried.” — Mr. Seye
Mr. Seye defines a “standard funeral” as one that is devoid of fanfare. A funeral that deals only with the essentials. “As you know funerals are not solely for the rich … Most of our clients come in with a budget these days. A few are who are able to afford an expensive funeral (package) still opt for it, however more people are opting for just basic services; getting a casket, a hearse, and pall bearers. Now some people dismiss lying in state, or getting a brass band. All that fanfare has really reduced. People just go from mortuary to the church, and from church to interment.”
At Omega Funeral Home where Mr. Seye works, funeral services and packages range from N250, 000 to over 1 million naira to accommodate the budget of different clientele. According to Mr. Seye, one out of every four clients usually opt for a medium funeral package of about N600, 000, while two would go for a lower package of N400, 000 to N250, 000. And the remaining client, a high package ranging from 800,000 to millions of naira. “In general, the number of people who opt for medium and high packages did decline this year in comparison to last year”, he stated.
But as the year comes to a close, the biggest tell-tale of the impact of the economic crisis in the country is not in the number of declined festivities throughout the year, or watered down weddings and funerals. It is the general absence of gaiety, and lack of zest in the yuletide season. It is a few days to Christmas, yet festive decors are scarcely in view. Business owners lament low consumer demand and poor purchasing power just as the public equally bemoans hiked commodity prices. Reports reveal a 76 percent drop in the importation of luxury items due to the low demand for such items that often characterised importation in the yuletide season.
For event vendors like Mrs. Ezeagwula, the end of the year is usually a busy season with a line-up of end of year events for schools and companies, but things are different this year. “A lot of companies are not having end of year parties,” Mrs. Ezeagwula said to me. However, she did opine that in general, with regards to festivities, the year wasn’t so bad for event vendors.
Nigerians believe in celebration, whether or not the economy is crumbling. “What I’ve realized is that the size or standard of an event doesn’t necessarily depend on class, or the state of the economy, but on the individual. I have clients who don’t have much but would go over and above themselves to organize a lavish party,” explained Mrs. Ezeagwula. “It’s about who we are at the end of the day.”