Content Warning: Dark comedy, strong language, political frustration, adult themes. For mature readers.
Intro
Daniel lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, his wine cabinet empty, his safe holding just one thousand naira. Ten years ago, twenty thousand naira felt like a million. Today, he cannot even afford a decent meal. His sister offers him egusi soup — but warns him the garri is not much. His mother calls to ask him not to leave. But Daniel has made up his mind. A politician paid him twenty million naira for a website that cost less than a hundred thousand to build. That money is not for feeding. It is not for rent. It is for escape. This is a dark comedy about frustration, ambition, and the painful decision to leave a country you still love — because staying means watching your dreams die one small death at a time. Daniel is going to America. Frankie is going to England. And somewhere in between, a sister weeps and a mother prays. JAPA is not just a story. It is the reality of a generation.
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Daniel and Life Shegge
A Dark Comedy About Frustration, Ambition, and Trying to Escape a Country You Still Love
Daniel lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how life had turned upside down right before his eyes. He was trying to decide what to do when overthinking dragged him down memory lane. Ten years ago, everything had been easy. Twenty thousand naira then felt like a million today. He swore under his breath, cursing every politician and their uneducated foot soldiers who had plunged the country into this mess. Those foot soldiers were too dense to realize they were guarding their masters’ pots while destroying their own lives — and the lives of the coming generation. In fact, they were wrecking the very foundation of the nation and its democracy.
Daniel stood up, crossed to his wine cabinet, and reached for a drink. Everything about his country left a sour taste in his throat and made him feel useless. But the cabinet was empty. He swore again, went to his safe, and checked how much cash he had left for something strong. When he opened it, his blood ran cold. Just one thousand naira.
Odogwu Bitter
“What the hell!” he exclaimed. “How did it come to this?” The money couldn’t even buy a decent meal. He pocketed the note, stepped outside, and called to his neighbor who sold provisions.
“Mama Chichi!”
“Yes, Danny?”
“Please bring me a small — or medium — bottle of Odogwu Bitter.”
“That’ll be five hundred naira.”
“No problem. And bring five hundred change — I’ve got a thousand here.”
“Okay.”
Mama Chichi soon arrived with the bottle. Daniel took it inside, sat on his bed, and figured he’d go hungry afterward. No money for food. He decided to call his sister first. He pulled out his phone and dialed. She picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, sister.”
“Good morning, Dan. It’s Saturday and you’re calling this early — hope it’s not about food?”
Daniel swore silently. “Not really, sis. It’s been a while since we talked. Just checking you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Dan. You?”
“Fine too. Er… no vex, but do you have anything in the pot?”
“I knew it. You and food, eh.”
“Sis, please — just tell me what’s in the pot.”
“Okay, egusi soup. But garri isn’t much.”
Daniel couldn't hold back his emotion when he heard egusi soup. He could already smell it — those ground melon seeds, the palm oil, and the scent of onion frying in the pot, and yes, the meat. He remembered how she used to give him a big portion of meat. Wait, she said the garri was not much. That was really a problem, but he could manage.
"Are you sure about the garri matter?" he asked her.
"Of course, there is not much," she replied.
“No problem. I’m coming.” He ended the call.
Daniel cracked open the Odogwu Bitter and took a swig. It was the first time he’d drunk this much of the hyped stuff. He smacked his lips, nodded in satisfaction, and thought: This Cubana guy really went the extra mile to give consumers a great drink — one that makes you feel like a billionaire.
But his mind soon drifted back to politics. While Cubana delivered taste and value, politicians schemed, committed every evil to grab power, and after winning — often with lives lost — refused to create jobs or provide basic amenities. No low-cost housing, no portable drinking water, no security, no sustainable agriculture. All they did was make people poorer, keep youth unemployed, then recruit the lucky ones as praise singers while pushing the rest into cultism or ballot-box snatching.
Daniel swallowed the last of the bitter liquid, tempted to buy another bottle. But the egusi soup called. He paused at the door, changed direction, and headed to the bathroom for a quick bath.
My Sister Is My Savior
At his sister’s place, he savored every bite — and every nag. She complained about how expensive everything had become and how all he ever did was finish her food. He laughed, then grumbled that she’d deliberately given him only one piece of meat.
"Sister, you really outdid it this time. I couldn't stop eating — this soup is the best I have ever tasted," Daniel said as he licked his hand. "But the meat, you gave me only one portion today." He said so while chewing, and you could see the grease sliding down his chin.
"Did you give me money to cook?" she asked him angrily. "Things are costly now."
"I know, but—"
"Don't 'but' me. You have parents — why not go and trouble them?"
"Come on, big sister, you're my second mother."
She just shook her head. What sort of brother does she have? she wondered.
“Give me my food back if you’ll complain,” she snapped.
“Sorry, you take things too seriously.”
“Why not?” she shot back.
“No worry — I’ll send you something when I get home,” he promised.
She gave him an infuriating look, sighed, and stepped outside. While he ate, Daniel’s thoughts returned to the country — and Africa at large. How could Africans depend so much on churches while Europeans built factories and invented technology? He marveled at OpenAI’s new GPT-4, yet here the continent was erecting the biggest churches while drowning in poverty, underdevelopment, greed, and wickedness.
The Call
Imagine a country swimming in crude oil yet without a single refinery — selling raw product abroad, then buying refined fuel back from the same buyers. Daniel sighed and shook his head. Everything was simple, but greed and wickedness were rooted deep in the African man.
His phone rang.
“Hello?”
“My main man Danny-dodo! Good news — just dust your passport, man. This your guy Frankie.”
“Oboy, you’re asking me to dust passport, yet you’re calling from a strange number?”
“Calm down — I borrowed someone’s phone.”
“Okay, Frankie. What’s the heat?”
“I need to see you, like now.”
“Come to my sister’s place. You still remember No. 21 Crescent City, right?”
“Yeah, bro.”
“Hurry, man — there’s eba and soup.”
“On my way, now-now.”
Frankie arrived in minutes.
“Wow, so fast?”
“Chill, man — I was around the corner.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“How’s the food? Help yourself. Now, what’s the heat?”
“Let me calm my stomach first — no hurry.”
“Give me a hint, bro.”
“Alright. Looks like we’ve got a contract.”
“Really? From who? How?”
“Told you I had a small connection. We’re to build a website for one of the big politicians in the governorship race.”
“Wow, that’s great…”
The Politician’s Website
Two hefty-looking thugs blocked the gate.
One was big, and one of his eyes was missing — you could see the red socket. He didn't even care about wearing dark goggles; he flaunted it, and it sent shivers down the spines of Daniel and Frank.
The other was smoking, dragging on it like it was a hot air balloon and his life depended on it staying airborne. When they saw the two boys, they frowned, and the one with the missing eye put his hand inside his jacket. That told them what was inside, and they humbled themselves.
"Who are you guys? And who are you looking for?" asked one of them.
"My name is Frankie and this here is Daniel. We have an appointment with the boss."
"What can two street hustlers have with the boss?" the other thug growled. "If you're here to cause trouble, you will have it served to you plenty."
"We have an appointment," Frankie said calmly.
"Wait here."
Soon the thug returned and beckoned them inside. When they entered the house, the boss wasted no time.
"Are you punks capable of creating a website for my campaign organization?"
"Yes, sir."
"That is good. I don't want to worry later, and I hope my money would not go down the drain?
"No, boss."
"So how much would it cost to build a good website that I can pass information to my constituency and show them my policy?"
"Eh, boss! The price has changed due to the fall of the local currency," Frankie said, while Daniel nodded in agreement.
"What is the price?"
"Twenty million," Frankie said.
"Just that alone?"
"Yes."
"That is nothing. I thought it is a hundred million."
They both looked at each other with regret in their eyes. They knew building the website would not cost more than a hundred thousand naira.
"Good," the boss said. "I want this to start immediately because you're getting the money now."
They left feeling happy, though they regretted not asking for more. Twenty million naira had solved their problem of seeking greener pastures abroad. They immediately went to work, created the website, and handed it over. Later, they sat in a bar to celebrate and decide which country to settle in.
"I want the UK," Daniel said.
"That place isn't cool with tax. Imagine giving every hundred pounds from every hundred and fifty pounds you make from your hard labour."
"Is the taxing not an exaggeration?" Daniel asked.
"Nah, I think one day they would even tax the air people breathe in the UK."
"So where?"
"I think the United States Of America is the best."
After getting the money and deciding which country to relocate to, Daniel called his sister. She answered him at once. One thing about her was that she didn't keep family waiting — no matter what, she always stood for the family.
"Hello, Danny."
"Big sister, I have good news for you."
"Hmmm, I hope you won't use it as an excuse to come for the food I'll be cooking this evening."
"Calm down — wait, what are you cooking?" he asked.
"What did you call me for?" she asked back.
"Oh, well, I have good news. I'm relocating to the United States."
There was a laugh at the other end. "Oh, how did you come about the money?"
"Well, I got a contract from a politician to build a website."
"That doesn't cost much," she said.
"Yeah, he didn't know, so he paid us 20 million naira."
A Dream Beyond Borders
“Twenty million? Wow, that is a lot of money. It will change your life.”
“Yeah, me and Frankie will be splitting it 50-50.”
“Congratulations, but why the United States? You could practically build your life here, and your family is here.”
“I know, big sister, but this country isn't what it used to be. Sister, this country is killing dreams.”
“But you can try, you can conquer. I know you have that determination. You have never given up, no matter how difficult it has been. You're a fighter. Please don't leave us.”
“I have been fighting right from when I was born in this country. Even after graduating from the university, there is no job. No matter how I struggle, the country always finds a way to press my neck. Big sister, I need a new challenge, and this country will not give it to me.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Don't worry, big sister. Just be patient and you will eat the fruit of my labour.”
“What are you going to do over there?”
“I intend to set up a tech company. I will be going to the United States, and Frankie will be going to England. The headquarters will be in the United States, while Frankie will be managing the branch office.”
“That sounds great. I wish you all the best.”
“Thank you,” Daniel said as the call ended.
The Weight of a Struggling Nation
He sighed. One hurdle had been passed. His sister didn't fight him on the decision. It was a hard choice leaving his family, and he didn't know how long he would be away, but he knew if he stayed, the country would squeeze every last drop of strength from him.
As he walked home, he watched the people passing by. You could see the frustration on their faces. Some looked depressed, while a few just walked with glazed eyes, having no idea where they were going.
It was a sad thing living in a country where a senator earns almost fifty million for doing nothing, and still gets bonuses and sitting allowances. A country where the government prefers to care for its offices rather than provide pipe-borne water or electricity.
A politician is willing to pay twenty million for a website, but can never provide even a million for low-cost housing.
He shook his head as he walked home. He watched the street vendors. Some had smiles on their faces, while others just sat there with a vacant look. Inflation had made prices skyrocket, and customers were no longer willing to buy goods at such exorbitant costs, so sales remained low at the end of the day.
A Mother's Concern
His pocket vibrated, and he knew his phone was ringing. He fished it out, and when he saw the caller, he closed his eyes for a moment. With a sigh, he answered the call.
“Hello, mother.”
“My son, how are you?”
“I'm fine, mother. Thank you.”
“Your sister told me you want to travel?”
“Yes, mother.”
“Abroad is not an easy place, my son. Can't you start a life here?”
“I'm sorry, mother, but no. You have seen how it has been, and it pains me that I haven't given you anything. I want to work harder, but not here. I want to give you the best life has to offer.”
“You don't have to worry about that. I'm content having you and your siblings.”
This was why he needed to give her a better life. She had sacrificed for the comfort of her children, neglecting herself in the process. Just thinking about that brought tears to his eyes.
“I'm sorry, mother, but it is time I take care of you.”
“I said not to worry. I'm just sad I will not be seeing you if you travel.”
“I know, mother,” he said as he held back his sob. No one could make him emotional except his mother. He loved her with his whole being. “I promise never to let you down, and I will always be a good boy.”
“That gladdens my heart. Just be honest and truthful. I will always pray for you and for your safety.”
“Thank you, mother.”
“Go on and conquer the world, my son.”
“I will,” Daniel said with a burning fire of determination in his eyes.
“Yankee, I'm coming. Please be good to me.”
Moral Lesson
Environment can limit opportunities
The story highlights how corruption, unemployment, and poor leadership can make talented people feel trapped. It shows why many young people seek opportunities elsewhere.
Leadership should serve the people
The contrast between struggling citizens and wealthy politicians teaches that leaders should focus on improving the lives of ordinary people rather than enriching themselves.
A good child values family sacrifice
Daniel’s desire to succeed is deeply connected to his mother’s sacrifices. The story teaches that children should appreciate and repay the love and struggles of their parents.
Family support gives strength
Although Daniel’s sister and mother are sad about his decision, they still encourage him. Their support strengthens his determination to succeed.
Outro
And so Daniel walks home, his mother's voice still ringing in his ears: "Go on and conquer the world, my son." He watches the street vendors with vacant eyes, the frustrated faces of people trapped in a system that refuses to work for them. A senator earns fifty million for doing nothing. A politician pays twenty million for a website. But pipe-borne water? Electricity? Low-cost housing? Those are luxuries the government cannot afford. Daniel made his choice. America is calling. Frankie is already packing for England. His sister cried but did not stop him. His mother blessed him even as her heart broke. The country that could have kept him — that should have kept him — let him go. And somewhere in the skies above the Atlantic, a young man with a burning fire in his eyes will look down and wonder if he will ever come back. This story is not over. It plays out every day, at every airport, in every goodbye. The question is not why Daniel left. The question is how many more will follow.
If this story teach you a lesson, drop a comment.
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