Money can be a sensitive topic in relationships, and Hannah* understands that now. She talks about how being the rich friend has affected her long-term friendship group and why she wishes she had kept her salary a secret.  

As told to Boluwatife

The friendship I share with my two best friends has been the single most consistent thing in my life for the past 12 years. Now, it looks like money is changing that, and I don’t know how to feel.

I met my friends Christie* and Mary* in 2012. We’d all just resumed SS 1 and found each other in the same class. I knew Mary from a distance because she lived on my street, but we had always attended different schools. So, I was glad to see a familiar face, and we soon started hanging out during break time. Christie was my seat partner, so she also tagged along. Before the end of the first term, we were a trio. 

We became something like the “Queen Bees” of our school. Christie was the finest girl in our set, which did wonders for our popularity. The boys were always inviting us to hang out after school, and we, too, became experts in giving our mothers different excuses and lying that we were in each other’s houses so we could go out and do dumb teenager things. 

One time, Christie’s mum caught us lying when she came to my house and found out that Christie wasn’t there like she’d claimed. I had to lie that she was in Mary’s house instead and literally ran all the way to Christie’s boyfriend’s house to get her since I didn’t have a phone. That was how far we went for each other.

Our friendship grew stronger as the years passed, even though university admission came and sent us all to different schools. Our families still lived in the same area, so we always saw each other during the holidays. We also kept in touch with social media.

We weathered everything together and told each other everything — whether it was boyfriend wahala or stupid crushes. We even talked about our money struggles and helped each other out when anyone was broke. I always imagined us growing to become the old mummies who wore matching outfits at owambes and followed each other everywhere. 

But adulting came and changed things.

I was the first to get a job after NYSC in 2022. The insurance firm I served at retained me and placed me on a ₦200k salary. I told my friends, and they were happy for me. Mary and Christie were still rounding up NYSC, and since neither had any income apart from the ₦33k NYSC stipend, I automatically became the person who paid for things when we went out. 

I didn’t mind it. In fact, I started giving my friends money. I still lived with my parents and had no major responsibilities, so adopting gift-giving as a love language was easy. 

My friends only had to complain about the slightest inconvenience, and I was throwing money at them. They often asked to borrow money, which I gave and never disturbed for repayment. Sometimes, they paid back. Other times, they didn’t.

The loan requests reduced after Mary and Christie both got jobs in 2023, but I was still the higher earner, and it became an unwritten rule for me to always pay more whenever we had joint projects like surprise gifts and birthday celebrations for one of us. 

Mary and Christie also rented an apartment together that same year. So, while I noticed I always paid more, I didn’t complain. They obviously had more responsibilities than me.

I changed jobs early this year, and my salary has increased to ₦450k. My salary isn’t that much higher than my friends, who earn between ₦200k – ₦250k, but they treat me like I’m one rich woman.

Whenever I complain about the rising cost of cabs and food, they laugh and say, “Rich woman like you?” Since my salary increase, I’ve tried to be more financially responsible by saving half of my salary and making better financial decisions, but my friends don’t understand.

For instance, my friends and I have this weekly tradition of going out to a restaurant every Saturday to eat brunch. We’re supposed to rotate the bill payment, but I usually end up paying three out of four times. That usually gulps between ₦30k – ₦50k weekly.

Some months ago, I suggested reducing the brunch dates to once monthly because of the financial implications, but Christie made it seem like I didn’t see our friendship as a priority. She was like, if I was trying to find a way to save money, why didn’t I consider cutting my cab costs and dry cleaning budget — They know I send my clothes to the dry cleaners every week. 

But it’s not even the same. Laundry and transportation are necessities that make my life easier and more productive. We can survive without eating out every Saturday. 

Mary recently asked for a ₦100k loan, but I told her I could only afford to lend her ₦50k. She asked me why, and I told her my money was tied up in savings. I think she got angry because she asked me not to worry about the loan again.

To be honest, I don’t think I should’ve had to explain why I couldn’t loan a certain amount. It wouldn’t have cost anything to lend her the full amount, but I know I most likely won’t get the money back, and I can’t build a reasonable financial future by continuing that way.

It’s not like I’m hiding my new intentionality with money from my friends. I told them I wanted to reduce my spending, and they said it was a good idea. But I think they assume it shouldn’t extend to them. They can question me about buying ice cream or spending on cabs, but they turn around and still expect me to fund our outings.

I actually regret telling them how much I earn. Maybe they’d have been more understanding if they didn’t know my income. Or maybe I introduced them to a lifestyle I couldn’t maintain by throwing money at them in the first place. 

Now, I feel like we aren’t as close as before. It doesn’t help that Mary and Christie live together, so I feel like the odd one out. They now have inside jokes, and I have this weird feeling that they talk about me behind my back.

I’ve talked to them a few times about how I feel like they treat me differently, and each time, they promise it’s not like that. But I still sense a divide. I can only hope that we don’t grow further apart.


*Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.

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