If you ask the average Nigerian today, the answer is ready-made, loud, and almost prophetic: “There is no money in this country.” “No money for Naija” has become our unofficial national slogan, particularly during festive periods. In fact, it has become far more popular than the national anthem, more frequent than traffic horns, and more believable than campaign promises.
One wonders how the two correlate: “No money for Naija and ‘Detty December’. There is always so much noise in the air about how broke Nigerians are and that it is so bad that they can’t afford to enjoy the basic things of life.
Yet, somehow, Christmas is here and suddenly, the same mouths that complained of empty pockets are seen chewing chicken and spending extravagantly. The same hands that swore there was no cash are holding shopping bags, malls are full, markets are bursting, POS machines are crying from overuse, supermarkets are sweating, tailors are getting patronages they can’t afford, night clubs are not closing their doors, bars are busier and bubbling, hotels are fully booked and online vendors are shouting “last orders before Christmas!” 
So we must ask, respectfully but curiously, “which money is being spent?” Is it spiritual money? Is it a loan? Is it ancestral savings unlocking itself? Or is it the same “no money” doing overtime? Because honestly, the contradiction is shocking and somewhat hilarious.
All year long, Nigerians lamented: “Money no dey circulate.” “Even feeding is hard.” “We are just surviving.” But once December shows face, Nigeria enters a different realm and one will just have to wonder if the ready lamentation is real or it is just a deliberate move to make the government in power look useless to the world.
Have you tried travelling in December? Roads become car parks. Highways turn into family reunions. Bus fares suddenly believe they are flying first class. Airports look like wedding receptions. Even water transport in riverine areas is so busy that boats are booked like concert tickets for Asake’s and Olamide’s shows.
One then continues to wonder if, truly, there is no money in circulation. What exactly then, is circulating? Hope, stubbornness, grace or is Nigeria powered by cruise, vibes and endurance?
The December gridlock alone deserves its own national award. The traffic is not just heavy, it is unbelievable. You sit in your car, engine off, sweating, laughing, complaining, praying, and still thanking God you are alive. And the funny thing? Nobody is angry enough to go home. Everybody is determined to move. That, right there, is the Nigerian spirit.
Because despite the hardship, despite inflation, despite policies we don’t understand, despite salaries that look like jokes, Nigerians still find a way to celebrate life. This is nothing but resilience and I celebrate that thing we all have come to term the “Nigerian Spirit”.
It may not always be luxury, but it is joy. It may not be abundance, but it is gratitude.
It may not make economic sense, but it makes human sense.
And at OpenLetter.com.ng, we pause to salute you, our Nigerian readers. You who read us in traffic. You who read us with low data. You who read us while complaining about the country but still loving it deeply. You who keep showing up, keep surviving, keep laughing, and keep sharing our posts.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for patronizing us. Thank you for believing in stories, truth, humour, and conversation above gossips.
As the year winds down, we say this from our hearts: Merry Christmas to all Nigerians at home and in the diaspora. May the New Year bring relief, restoration, and reasons to smile! May Nigeria be better than our jokes and stronger than our struggles!
And if anyone asks again, yes, there may be “no money for Naija”, but there is still strength, laughter, faith, and hope and we will continue to get our December as “dirty” as possible against all odds.
From all of us at OpenLetter, we wish you a prosperous New Year.
Khoemizona Babalola
