Echoes of Trauma: When there is no room for a bad month
By Lillian Okenwa
Some people cannot afford an unexpected expense. Others cannot afford the expenses they already have.
For one person, a sick child may mean wondering which savings to touch. For another, it may mean borrowing money for treatment. Someone else may already be choosing between food, transport, school fees and an overdue electricity bill.
Different circumstances. The same frightening question: What happens when there is simply not enough?
That is the part of financial hardship we do not always see. It does not always look like poverty. Sometimes it looks like a professional who checks a bank balance before accepting an invitation to dinner. A parent who lies awake calculating school fees. A worker who cannot afford to miss a day. A small business owner who knows that one slow month could wipe out months of progress.
For someone else, it is more basic. There may not be enough money for food. Rent may already be overdue. A child may need something the parent genuinely cannot provide. Medical treatment may have to wait. The next payday may be too far away, and even when it arrives, there may already be more demands waiting for it.
This is what happens when there is no financial room to breathe.
And sometimes there is not even enough room for life to go wrong.
A leaking roof, a sick child, a broken phone, a delayed salary, an unexpected school demand, a car that suddenly needs repairs or a relative calling for help can turn an already difficult month into a crisis.
The problem, then, is not simply having little money. It is having no room for life to go wrong.
Imagine receiving your salary and knowing almost immediately where every naira must go. Rent. Food. Transport. School fees. Electricity. Data. Medication. Debt. Family obligations. Perhaps money sent to a parent or sibling who is also struggling.
By the time everything is accounted for, there is little or nothing left.
For someone else, the calculation may be even harsher: There is not enough to account for everything in the first place.
Then something happens.
That is when the anxiety begins.
Financial insecurity can be difficult to explain to someone who sees only the surface. A person may have a job, dress well, show up at work every morning, pay bills on time and even help other people. From the outside, everything may appear reasonably stable. Inside, that person may be constantly calculating.
How much is left?
Will it last until payday?
What if the children need something?
What if someone falls sick?
What if the salary is delayed?
What if business does not pick up this month?
For someone already struggling to meet basic needs, the questions can be even more immediate.
What will we eat?
How will the rent be paid?
Where will the school fees come from?
What happens if someone falls sick?
The questions may never be spoken aloud, but they can occupy an enormous amount of mental space.
We talk about income, inflation, poverty figures and the cost of living. Much less attention is paid to what financial insecurity feels like from inside a person’s head: the emotional strain of never quite feeling safe.
When there is no cushion, every inconvenience can feel like a threat.
Someone with savings may see an unexpected medical bill as an unpleasant interruption. Someone without savings may have to borrow. Someone already unable to meet basic expenses may have to postpone treatment altogether.
The event may be the same. What it demands from each person can be very different.
Financial precarity can create a state of constant alertness. People become more watchful of prices, more cautious about spending and sometimes fearful of making ordinary decisions. A simple invitation to dinner can trigger an internal calculation. Taking a taxi instead of public transport may bring guilt. Buying something enjoyable for oneself may feel irresponsible when there are school fees waiting.
For someone who is already struggling to buy food or pay rent, even the smallest unexpected expense can feel overwhelming.
Even payday, which should bring relief, can become another moment of tension.
The money arrives, but instead of asking, “What can I do with this?” the mind immediately begins distributing it. This bill must be paid. That debt must be settled. There is food to buy. There is transport. There is a child’s need. Someone is waiting.
And then the balance begins to disappear.
For some people, this happens month after month until financial calculation becomes almost automatic.
Needing help can be particularly difficult for someone who has spent years being the person others turn to. A person may have supported siblings, assisted parents, contributed to family emergencies or made sure other people did not go without. Then circumstances change and that same person finds himself or herself needing assistance.
The shame can be considerable.
Adults are often expected to simply “manage.” But management becomes increasingly difficult when there is nothing left to manage.
This is particularly painful in a culture where family responsibility is taken seriously. Many Nigerians carry obligations that extend beyond their immediate household. A salary may support parents, younger siblings, relatives in school and sometimes people who are not technically dependants but whose circumstances make it difficult to turn them away.
Generosity is a beautiful quality. Yet when generosity is continually demanded from someone who is already financially stretched, it can become another source of pressure.
Sometimes the person says yes because saying no feels cruel.
Sometimes the person borrows to help someone else.
Sometimes the person’s own need is postponed.
Eventually, resentment may begin to grow, not because the person has stopped caring, but because there is simply nothing left to give.
Financial pressure can also enter relationships. Couples may argue more frequently about money. Parents may become short-tempered with children because every additional request feels like another demand on an already exhausted budget. Friends may withdraw from social activities because they cannot afford to participate. Someone may stop answering calls because they are afraid the conversation will end with another request for money.
A person who appears distant may actually be overwhelmed.
Someone who seems unusually irritable may be carrying financial fears that nobody knows about.
Someone who keeps cancelling plans may simply be trying to avoid expenses they cannot afford.
And someone who says, “I am fine,” may have spent the entire night wondering how to get through the next three weeks.
Financial pressure does not automatically mean that someone is depressed or has a mental health disorder. Financial stress and clinical depression are not the same thing. Anxiety about money can, however, affect sleep, concentration, relationships, mood and a person’s sense of security. When the pressure continues for a long time, switching off mentally can become difficult, even when there is nothing that can be done at that particular moment.
That is why compassion matters.
We sometimes look at people’s financial decisions without knowing the circumstances behind them.
Why have they not saved enough? Why have they not invested? Why do they keep borrowing? Why did they not plan better?
Planning is important. Personal responsibility matters. Yet financial advice can become painfully simplistic when it ignores the reality of someone whose income is already consumed by basic obligations.
And sometimes the problem is not poor financial management at all.
Sometimes there simply is not enough.
A person cannot budget money that does not exist.
Someone spending beyond their means is facing a different problem from a person whose income cannot cover the cost of basic living. Both may need help, but the conversation cannot be the same.
This is why appearances can be misleading. The colleague who never joins lunch outings may not be antisocial. The friend who keeps wearing the same clothes may not be careless about appearance. The parent who seems unusually anxious about school expenses may not be exaggerating. The young professional who still lives with family may be navigating an economic reality that makes independence far more complicated than it appears.
Even those who earn relatively well can experience financial precarity when their obligations are large enough.
The issue is not simply how much comes in. It is how much remains when life happens.
And for some people, there is not even enough coming in to meet what life already requires.
People will fall sick. Businesses will have slow periods. Salaries will sometimes arrive late. Children will need things at inconvenient times. Cars will develop faults. Parents will age. Homes will require repairs. Emergencies rarely consult our budgets before arriving.
For someone with financial security, these things may be disruptions.
For someone already stretched to the limit, they can become a crisis.
That may explain why some people find it difficult to relax even when things appear to be going well. Their minds have learnt that stability can disappear quickly. They hesitate before making plans because they are already thinking about what could go wrong. They struggle to enjoy what they have because part of them is waiting for the next demand.
That constant anticipation can be exhausting.
Yet another danger comes with becoming so accustomed to financial pressure that we start treating it as normal.
We tell ourselves that everyone is struggling. We laugh about being broke before payday. We turn financial anxiety into jokes. We congratulate ourselves for managing impossible situations. We become so familiar with making do that we forget people are allowed to desire something more than merely getting through another month.
There is dignity in being resourceful. There is dignity in making sacrifices for one’s family. There is dignity in working hard and finding creative ways to solve problems.
Hardship, however, should not become a personality test.
A person should not have to prove strength by how many emergencies he or she can absorb without falling apart.
Wages, employment opportunities, inflation, housing, healthcare, education, electricity and the broader cost of living all influence how much breathing room people have. Economic policy eventually becomes personal.
It becomes the parent calculating whether there is enough for school and food.
It becomes the worker deciding which bill can wait.
It becomes the entrepreneur wondering whether a slow month will force the business to close.
It becomes the family postponing medical care because another expense has become more urgent.
These are not merely financial calculations. They are human experiences.
Perhaps we should become more attentive to the people around us. Not everyone needs money, and not every problem can be solved by offering financial assistance. Sometimes what a person needs first is the freedom to speak honestly without being judged.
Instead of asking, “Why can’t you manage your money better?” perhaps there are moments when we should ask, “What has become difficult for you lately?”
Someone’s inability to meet an obligation does not automatically make that person irresponsible. We may simply have no idea what else is competing for their attention and resources.
For those living through financial uncertainty, there should be no shame in admitting that it is taking a toll. Asking for help, reducing unnecessary commitments, speaking to someone trustworthy or getting professional support when the stress becomes overwhelming are not signs of failure.
Financial worries do not make a person incapable. Sometimes the circumstances really are difficult.
There will always be people who tell others to work harder, pray harder, save more or think more positively. Effort, faith, discipline and hope all have their place. None of them, however, should become excuses for ignoring the realities people are facing.
A cushion cannot be created overnight when every month consumes what comes in.
And someone who has spent years living without financial breathing space may need more than advice. Understanding, practical support and an environment in which recovery is possible can matter just as much.
Perhaps one of the most painful effects of financial insecurity is the way it can gradually shrink a person’s imagination. When every decision is about what can be afforded now, it becomes difficult to think about what could be possible later.
Dreams become postponed.
Plans become smaller.
Pleasure begins to feel like a luxury.
Risk becomes frightening.
Life becomes an endless series of calculations.
That is why the conversation about money should never be reduced to money alone. Behind every unpaid bill, every anxious calculation and every decision to go without something, there may be a person trying very hard to remain functional.
Some people are not asking for an easy life.
They are simply longing for a little room.
Room for an unexpected bill without panic.
Room for illness without immediate financial disaster.
Room to help someone without destroying their own budget.
Room to rest without feeling guilty.
Room to make a mistake without everything collapsing.
Room, perhaps, to look beyond the next payday.
That kind of room is more than financial comfort. It is security, and security affects how people think, relate, plan and live.
Sometimes the person who looks like they are coping is simply very good at hiding the calculations.
And sometimes what a person needs most is not another reminder to be strong, but a little more room for life to happen without becoming a crisis.
- A lawyer and equity advocate, Lillian is the publisher of Law & Society Magazine. She can be reached at Lillianokenwa@gmail.com. X: @OkenwaLillian.
