Life Has Hands
You think you’ve seen hard times until your femur snaps like dry spaghetti. One minute, I was heading to work; the next, I was horizontal on the pavement, blinking in disbelief. My leg broke, but so did my finances, peace of mind, and sense of control.
HMO or HM-No?
We had an HMO at work. I said had because, a few months before my fall, the company decided to “pause” it. They blamed “rising costs.” But my salary didn’t rise with those costs. No one asked if we had backup health plans. I didn’t.
So, when the doctor said, “You’ll need surgery,” all I heard was, “You’ll need money.”
Sick and Salaryless
Before the accident, I earned ₦150,000 per month. After deductions, I was managing around ₦135,000. Transport, feeding, and the occasional family obligation, my salary already had a full-time job. I was barely surviving and definitely not saving much.
I had some small savings, but they were for paying off a loan, so when my leg snapped, I had two choices: use the money to treat myself, or keep paying debt and let the bone “sort itself.” I chose to walk again.
Pain is Expensive
First, the scans cost ₦50,000, then the surgery estimate was around 2.5 million Naira, which was just the beginning. I haven't factored in the post-surgery expenses.
When Your Job Moves On Without You
My boss said, “Get well soon.” HR sent “Keep us posted.” I did, then silence. I didn’t get a sack letter, I was forgotten. No salary, no calls, no medical support. I didn’t resign, I just disappeared from the payroll like expired data.
Broke But Creative
Pain gives you clarity. I started tracking every naira. No more impulse buys, no more “just this once.” I made lists before shopping, cooked instead of ordering, walked when I could, and became my own financial manager, caregiver, and therapist.
1. Low salary is not a badge of humility
If your salary can’t save you from a medical emergency, it’s not just low, it’s dangerous. Don’t glorify struggle; look for better and fight for better. A low salary is dangerous. The goal to up-skill and earn more should be at the top of my mind.
2. Health insurance is not optional
I thought I was too young to need one. My bones said otherwise. If your job doesn’t offer HMO, get one, even if it’s basic. If you can’t afford one yet, build a health fund. ₦5,000 monthly can mean survival. If you take nothing from this post, please, take this.
3. Save like trouble is coming
Before the fracture, I saved for debt, not disaster. Now I save for both. Life is unpredictable. Your money must prepare for things your heart hasn’t imagined.
You do not only save for rainy days, you also save for sunny days.
4. Your employer is not your family
They won’t pay your hospital bills, or call after three weeks. You owe yourself loyalty first. If they cancel your HMO, don’t assume your well-being is still on their agenda.
5. Money is freedom
It’s not about being rich. It’s about not panicking when life happens. The ability to choose your hospital, buy your drugs, or eat after surgery; money gives you those choices.
Healing Isn’t Just Physical
I walk with a limp now, but I also walk with wisdom. I no longer glorify the grind. I ask myself: “What’s my backup plan?” I now build buffers: financial, emotional, and physical.
I’m more careful with my time, my energy, and my budget. Every limp reminds me of what I survived and what I lost.
I also gained something, a new relationship with money. A deep understanding of why Nigerians need financial literacy, not just survival skills.
No Silver Lining, Just Sense
I won’t lie and say, "The injury changed my life for the better.” I’d rather have my old femur back, thank you. But it forced me to grow up financially; to see money differently, to ask harder questions.
What if I had planned better? What if I had a second stream of income? What if I had just one emergency fund?
You may never break a leg, but something will break your routine. A job loss, a sick parent, a sudden expense, and when that day comes, your money habits will matter more than your hustle.
Broken bones heal. Broken banks don’t.
Don’t wait for a fracture to rethink your finances.
Check your HMO, build a health fund, and ask yourself hard questions now, so life doesn’t knock you flat first; because broken bones heal, broken banks take longer.
You think you’ve seen hard times until your femur snaps like dry spaghetti. One minute, I was heading to work; the next, I was horizontal on the pavement, blinking in disbelief. My leg broke, but so did my finances, peace of mind, and sense of control.
HMO or HM-No?
We had an HMO at work. I said had because, a few months before my fall, the company decided to “pause” it. They blamed “rising costs.” But my salary didn’t rise with those costs. No one asked if we had backup health plans. I didn’t.
So, when the doctor said, “You’ll need surgery,” all I heard was, “You’ll need money.”
Sick and Salaryless
Before the accident, I earned ₦150,000 per month. After deductions, I was managing around ₦135,000. Transport, feeding, and the occasional family obligation, my salary already had a full-time job. I was barely surviving and definitely not saving much.
I had some small savings, but they were for paying off a loan, so when my leg snapped, I had two choices: use the money to treat myself, or keep paying debt and let the bone “sort itself.” I chose to walk again.
Pain is Expensive
First, the scans cost ₦50,000, then the surgery estimate was around 2.5 million Naira, which was just the beginning. I haven't factored in the post-surgery expenses.
Over the next two years, I had a couple of surgeries. Every time, I thought I was healing, a new complication appeared. Another X-ray, another doctor’s note, another receipt, and not once did I return to work.
When Your Job Moves On Without You
My boss said, “Get well soon.” HR sent “Keep us posted.” I did, then silence. I didn’t get a sack letter, I was forgotten. No salary, no calls, no medical support. I didn’t resign, I just disappeared from the payroll like expired data.
Broke But Creative
Pain gives you clarity. I started tracking every naira. No more impulse buys, no more “just this once.” I made lists before shopping, cooked instead of ordering, walked when I could, and became my own financial manager, caregiver, and therapist.
I read about money, I asked questions, and I started writing about my experience, not for pity, but to understand, to heal in a different way.
Money Lessons from My Hospital Bed
Money Lessons from My Hospital Bed
1. Low salary is not a badge of humility
If your salary can’t save you from a medical emergency, it’s not just low, it’s dangerous. Don’t glorify struggle; look for better and fight for better. A low salary is dangerous. The goal to up-skill and earn more should be at the top of my mind.
2. Health insurance is not optional
I thought I was too young to need one. My bones said otherwise. If your job doesn’t offer HMO, get one, even if it’s basic. If you can’t afford one yet, build a health fund. ₦5,000 monthly can mean survival. If you take nothing from this post, please, take this.
3. Save like trouble is coming
Before the fracture, I saved for debt, not disaster. Now I save for both. Life is unpredictable. Your money must prepare for things your heart hasn’t imagined.
You do not only save for rainy days, you also save for sunny days.
4. Your employer is not your family
They won’t pay your hospital bills, or call after three weeks. You owe yourself loyalty first. If they cancel your HMO, don’t assume your well-being is still on their agenda.
5. Money is freedom
It’s not about being rich. It’s about not panicking when life happens. The ability to choose your hospital, buy your drugs, or eat after surgery; money gives you those choices.
Healing Isn’t Just Physical
I walk with a limp now, but I also walk with wisdom. I no longer glorify the grind. I ask myself: “What’s my backup plan?” I now build buffers: financial, emotional, and physical.
I’m more careful with my time, my energy, and my budget. Every limp reminds me of what I survived and what I lost.
I also gained something, a new relationship with money. A deep understanding of why Nigerians need financial literacy, not just survival skills.
No Silver Lining, Just Sense
I won’t lie and say, "The injury changed my life for the better.” I’d rather have my old femur back, thank you. But it forced me to grow up financially; to see money differently, to ask harder questions.
What if I had planned better? What if I had a second stream of income? What if I had just one emergency fund?
You may never break a leg, but something will break your routine. A job loss, a sick parent, a sudden expense, and when that day comes, your money habits will matter more than your hustle.
Broken bones heal. Broken banks don’t.
Don’t wait for a fracture to rethink your finances.
Check your HMO, build a health fund, and ask yourself hard questions now, so life doesn’t knock you flat first; because broken bones heal, broken banks take longer.
I tell real money stories to break money shame, learn, and grow together.
“Thank you” is all I can say
ReplyDeleteThank you for taking the time to read it. 😍
Delete