How Saying No to a Wedding Contribution Taught Me a Valuable Money Lesson

The Silent Tax 

There’s a silent tax we pay in Nigeria. It’s unspoken, expected, and always urgent. No, it's not the famous black tax. 

It is weddings, and not yours, of course. Other people’s weddings. In Nigeria, Aso-Ebi has become a social tax and just like all taxes, you are expected to pay by any means necessary. 

Take my case, for instance, one random Wednesday evening, I got a message from someone I hadn’t spoken to in years. We were classmates in university, but we hadn’t exchanged a single text since graduation. No “happy birthday,” no “how far,” no “I saw your tweet.”
She was getting married and she wanted me in her aso ebi squad. 
“Hey, sis! Long time! I’m getting married next month. Aso Ebi is 85k. I’d love you to be part of the bridal girls. You’ll look great in peach.”

My Aso-Ebi Dilemma

I stared at the message for a full minute not because I was flattered, but because I was broke. It was the middle of the month when last month's salary was gone with the wind, and the present month's salary is like a long-distance lover. Rent was due in a few months, and there were mandatory medications (prescribed) to buy, and the only thing my bank app had for me was a “loan offer.”
Still, I was tempted. The wedding was going to be a mini-reunion with former classmates I hadn't seen in ages.

The Guilt of Saying No 

There’s a strange pressure that comes with these things. Say yes, and you’re part of something. Say no, and you’re the bad friend, even if you’re not really friends.
I thought about it.
Could I squeeze the 85k? Maybe.
Would it hurt? Absolutely.
Was it worth it? That was the real question.
I thought about the transport to the wedding venue, makeup costs, and maybe an extra pair of heels. One event could cost me close to 120-150k and for what? To take fine pictures and post “so happy for you!” like I wasn’t drowning in bills?
So I replied:
“Thank you for thinking of me, but I can’t commit to that right now. Wishing you a beautiful wedding.”
Her response was short.
“No wahala.”
We haven’t spoken since.
That weekend, I stayed home. No peach, corseted dress and gele. No matching purse and shoes with gold accessories. No Instagram and Snapchat story to immortalize the moment. I ate Jollof from a plastic container and watched my favorite series with PHCN grace.
And honestly, I felt free.
For the first time in a long while, I didn’t perform friendship with money I didn’t have. I didn’t dress up broke. I didn’t prove loyalty with bank transfers.
I chose rent over reception. Sanity over status. Peace over pressure.
And I learned something important: you can care about people and still say no.
Because the truth is, money made me say yes too many times before that day.
Yes to birthday contributions when I hadn’t eaten properly.
Yes to baby showers, bridal showers, and burial donations that stretched me thin.
Yes, to being liked, even if it meant being poor.
But that day, I chose something different. That day, I prioritized the health of my personal finances.
And guess what? My rent got paid. I bought my medication and I slept well, and I didn’t miss the wedding. Not really.


What Money Taught Me That Day:
1. People who care about you won’t cut you off because you said no.

2. You’re not wicked for prioritizing your needs.

3. Aso ebi fades. Financial regret lingers.
4. If your goal is financial freedom, you must be comfortable with saying no.
5. Social pressure is inevitable, but you must learn to be smarter.

This is my money lesson of the week

Have you ever had to say no and felt guilty about it? 
I’d love to hear your story.

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Money always has another lesson.