Dear Diary,
Today I saw a property listing.
Now, seeing property listings in Lagos is not unusual. At this point, I browse them the same way some people browse luxury watches.
Not because I intend to buy one, mostly for entertainment, and occasionally for cardiovascular exercise. Because some of these prices can raise blood pressure.
Anyway.
This particular property was sitting comfortably on about 500 square meters of land somewhere on the Island.
Nice house.
Beautiful finishes.
Lovely pictures.
Tasteful design.
Everything looked wonderful.
Then I saw the asking price.
₦3.5 Billion.
I blinked.
Closed the page.
Opened it again.
Still ₦3.5 Billion.
You know those moments when your brain quietly leaves your body and goes for a walk? That happened.
Now, before anybody says, “Ria, if you don’t have the money, just say so,” let me assure you that my confusion is not caused by poverty. It is caused by mathematics, and there is a difference. Because once we start discussing billions, curiosity becomes a civic responsibility.
So naturally, I started doing what any responsible Nigerian woman with Wi-Fi would do.
I started calculating.
At current exchange rates, we are talking somewhere around two million dollars or thereabouts depending on which version of the naira decides to show up that day.
Two million dollars.
For a house.
On 500 square meters.
In Lagos.
Now let me be clear.
I understand location.
I understand prestige.
I understand exclusivity.
I understand prime real estate.
What I do not understand is when we stop pricing assets and start pricing emotions. Because for two million dollars, the world becomes a very interesting place.
You can acquire properties in parts of the United States.
Properties in Europe.
Properties in parts of Asia.
Properties that not only sit there looking expensive but actively generate income.
Rental income.
Commercial income.
Hospitality income.
Income that wakes up every month and introduces itself.
Imagine spending that kind of money on assets that pay you for owning them.
Revolutionary concept.
But let us not even leave Nigeria. Maybe you love Nigeria. Maybe you believe, like I do, that despite all evidence occasionally suggesting otherwise, this country is still worth investing in.
Fine.
Let’s stay home.
Diary, have you ever wondered what ₦3.5 Billion can build in agriculture
Because I have.
A secured farming estate.
Large-scale food production.
Fish farming.
Poultry.
Processing facilities.
Storage infrastructure.
Solar-powered operations.
Hundreds of jobs.
Thousands of tonnes of food.
Recurring income.
Actual productivity.
The kind of investment that feeds people while feeding your bank account.
And before anybody starts shouting “farming is not easy,” I know. Nothing worthwhile is easy. Neither is paying ₦3.5 Billion for a house. At least one of them gives tomatoes. The other gives neighbours.
Again.
Just thinking aloud.
What fascinates me about Lagos Island real estate is that it sometimes feels disconnected from reality.
Prices rise, then rise again, then rise some more, and everybody nods as though this is perfectly normal, as though money grows naturally on waterfronts.
At some point, I need somebody to explain who exactly is buying all these properties.
Not theoretically.
Not hypothetically.
Actually buying all these properties.
Because if there are enough people willing to pay these prices, then perhaps I have misunderstood the Nigerian economy entirely.
Maybe the rest of us are reading a different financial report.
Maybe there is a secret Nigeria that only reveals itself after a certain bank balance.
Because the Nigeria I know still contains people discussing fuel prices, school fees, rent, transportation costs, electricity bills, and the monthly adventure known as survival. Yet somewhere in that same country, somebody is casually listing a house for ₦3.5 Billion.
Fascinating.
The more I think about it, the more I realize this is not really about property. It is about value.
How do we determine value?
What is an asset actually worth?
At what point does ownership become status?
At what point does status become vanity?
And at what point does vanity become expensive decoration?
These are important questions.
Or perhaps they are not.
Perhaps I simply need to mind my business.
Which is admittedly possible.
Still, if I happened to possess ₦3.5 Billion today, a 500-square-meter house would not be the first thing on my shopping list.
Maybe that’s just me.
Maybe I’m strange.
Or maybe I simply enjoy investments that continue working after the ribbon-cutting ceremony.
Either way, if any reader happens to have ₦3.5 Billion lying around and is genuinely confused about what to do with it, please know that I am available for consultation.
Free consultation, in fact, for the first thirty minutes. After that, we shall discuss fees. Because wisdom is valuable, and inflation has affected all of us.
Anyway, Diary.
Perhaps the property is worth every kobo.
Perhaps I am missing something.
Or perhaps Lagos has finally reached that magical stage where prices are no longer numbers. They are performance art, and I, unfortunately, was not given the exhibition brochure.
– Ria
Take what serves you. Argue with the rest.
It is, after all, just a rant.