We’ve all seen the statistics. Women earn less. The global gender pay gap will take another century to close.
In Nigeria, studies put the difference anywhere between 20 and 45 percent, depending on the industry. It’s unfair, yes. It’s frustrating, sure. However, the numbers don’t prepare you for the way it actually manifests in real life.
Because here’s the part nobody likes to discuss: you’re not even supposed to know.
Many companies actively discourage staff from talking about pay. Some even make it sound like a breach of contract. “Never disclose your salary to colleagues.” But if everything was fair, if everyone was valued the same, why would salary transparency be treated like contraband?
That’s why we sat down with four Nigerian women to ask what it was like to navigate the gender pay gap in their own careers.
Ada, 35: The Junior Who Earned More
I had been searching for a job at a law firm, for a while when I saw an application for the role. Fortunately, I knew someone on the inside who shared the salary range for the role. So, when HR asked about my salary expectations, I didn’t hesitate and shared a number within the salary range. They smiled, nodded, and a week later, I had the offer letter in my inbox.
For a while, I was proud of myself. I thought I’d cracked it, a job I loved, and even though it felt overwhelming sometimes, I felt like I was winning.
A year in, my manager told me we’d be expanding. They were bringing in someone junior to work under me. I was so excited – finally, someone to share the workload. When he joined, I trained him, onboarded him, and corrected his mistakes. He reported to me, and I took that responsibility seriously.
Then one day, my manager went on leave. I had to step in temporarily, which meant limited access to confidential documents. While working, I discovered his personnel file on her desk, which she had left before leaving. I wasn’t snooping, okay, maybe I was. However, I was more interested in the manager’s note regarding employees’ performance rather than salaries. But then I saw it. His pay. More than mine.
It was like the room tilted. I stared at the file, thinking maybe I’d read it wrong. I checked again. No, the numbers were clear. My junior, the person I was supervising, was being paid more.
I remember closing the file slowly, my palms sweaty. It wasn’t just anger. It was shame. A humiliation that burned quietly. I couldn’t tell anyone. I felt like a fool, thinking I had more value to the firm. The worst part? I had no inkling. If I hadn’t stumbled across it, I would still be smiling in the dark, thinking I was ahead. I didn’t feel like I could do anything about it, but I just made up my mind to find another job.
Ijeoma, 27: “They Said He’s a Man.”
When I got the offer letter, I hesitated. The number was lower than I wanted, so I pushed back. HR listened politely, then shook their heads. “That’s the best we can do.”
I almost walked away. But the job market wasn’t friendly. Everywhere you looked, there were a dozen qualified people lining up for the same role. I told myself it was temporary and I could prove my worth and renegotiate later.
Months passed. I settled in and got comfortable with the team. One night, after the usual work hours, I was out with the team at a restaurant, and we were laughing and chatting as usual. That’s when it slipped. A colleague, with the same role as me, same title, and exact expectations, someone I had a higher degree than and more experience than, casually mentioned “our salary,” thinking we were earning the same thing.
I laughed, thinking it was a joke. He repeated it. My stomach dropped. He was earning about 300k more than I.
I couldn’t let it go. The next morning, I marched into management’s office. I laid it out: my qualifications, my track record, the fact that I had been in the job longer. I asked them to explain.
Do you know what they told me?
“He’s a guy. He has more responsibility. And you, when you have a husband, another company will pay him more so he can take care of you.”
I felt my ears ring. I remember gripping the edge of the chair to steady myself. My mouth went dry. Was I hearing right?
I wasn’t just being underpaid. I was being reduced to someone’s future wife. As if my salary didn’t belong to me but to some imaginary man who would one day “take care of me.”
I left that office shaking. Angry. Humiliated. Helpless.
And the worst part? I knew there was nothing I could do. Nigeria doesn’t make it easy to fight back. Who would I sue? On what grounds? So I swallowed it, like so many women before me. But the bitterness stayed.
Every time I saw his face, every time we shared a meeting, the thought echoed: same job, exact expectations, more qualifications, but he earns more because he’s a man.
Sade, 28: The Manager Paid Less Than Her Report
I loved my job. Honestly, I did. I was managing a solid team, leading projects, meeting deadlines, and getting nods of approval from the “big bosses.”. For once in my career, I felt like I was standing on firm ground. That’s why the discovery hit so hard.
It happened casually, like so many betrayals do. One of my team members was asking for a raise, complaining that his salary wasn’t enough. Of course, as his manager, I was listening and asked for his expectations for a raise, and that’s when he shared his current salary.
I ran the numbers in my head once, then again. Wait. What?
I remember sitting there, trying to keep my face neutral while inside I felt like the floor had caved in. It was humiliating. I was the manager. I was supposed to set the standard. But here I was, earning less than the person answering to me.
Later that night, I replayed it in my head. The meetings I led, the reports I presented, the weekends I gave up just to keep the team on track. I thought about how often I’d defended this same employee in leadership meetings, vouching for his performance and ensuring he got opportunities.
And all the while, he was cashing bigger cheques than me.
I didn’t confront him or the management. I just swallowed it, but the bitterness lodged in my chest. Every time I approved his work after that, I felt it. Every time I defended him in a meeting, I’ll admit it – I kind of built up resentment towards him and the company.
Tola, 25: Triple the Pay, Half the Work
They told me my salary would go up. “Soon,” they said, as if dangling a carrot in front of me. I held onto that promise. I kept pushing through late nights, extra tasks, and endless deliverables because I believed them.
Then one Monday morning, a new hire walked in. Fresh face, nervous smile, clutching his briefcase, I was supposed to be training him, as I was the “experienced” one, according to my manager. I explained the processes, walked him through projects, and even showed him the shortcuts I’d discovered through months of trial and error.
But as weeks went by, I noticed something. He was coasting. Making mistakes I had to fix, asking questions I’d already explained, leaning on me like I was his personal manual. The day he let slip that the company was paying “so well” and the job was so easy, that “ we were both ballers.” That’s when I asked for his pay, and I couldn’t unhear it.
Three times mine. Not more. Not double. Triple.
I laughed, a sharp, bitter laugh that startled even me. He thought I was joking when I asked him to repeat it. I wasn’t.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. My chest felt tight, like I’d swallowed a stone. How could they justify this? The man I was training, the one I was practically babysitting, was being rewarded as if he were a star hire, while I, the one holding everything together, was left waiting for a “soon” that never came.
At the next performance review, I told my manager, throwing the guy under the bus for all his mistakes, and how I was the one being overworked and still underpaid. He blinked, shuffled papers, and whispered, “budget issues.” To pacify me, they offered a raise. A small one. Enough to quiet the noise, not enough to close the canyon between us. A few months later, I left the job.
It was never about budget. It was about value. They simply didn’t think mine matched his. And no matter how many times I trained, explained, or delivered, they weren’t going to.
I walked out of that meeting angry because my value was being discounted, not because of what I could do, but because of who I was.
Navigating the Gender Pay Gap: What To Do If You Discover It
Finding out you earn less than a male colleague doing the same work can feel like a punch in the stomach. The first instinct is anger, and rightfully so. But how you respond can shape what happens next. Here are some practical steps Nigerian women can take:
A. Don’t react in the heat of the moment
The discovery stings, but storming into HR out of rage often backfires. Take a breath, gather your thoughts, and decide on a professional approach. The goal is not just to vent, but to secure better pay or make an informed career move.
B. Gather proof and prepare your case
Numbers talk. Before asking for a raise, collect evidence of your impact:
- Specific projects you led that generated results (e.g., revenue, users, visibility).
- Metrics that show your value (e.g., sales closed, campaigns delivered, growth achieved).
- Positive feedback or recognition from clients, managers, or leadership.
Frame it as a business case: “Here is the value I’ve delivered, and here’s why my compensation should reflect it.”
C. Request a formal salary review
Instead of casually complaining, request an official meeting. Keep it professional and fact-based. Mention market rates for your role, your qualifications, and your contributions. Frame it as aligning your pay with your responsibility, not as a direct comparison to your colleague.
D. Read the room and the response
If your employer values you, they’ll find a way — even if it takes time. But if the excuses pile up (“budget issues,” “maybe next year,”) while your male peers keep climbing, that’s a sign.
E. Know when to leave
Sometimes the only real solution is to exit. Staying in a company that repeatedly underpays you eats away at more than your salary; it chips away at your confidence, your peace of mind, and your long-term growth. If you’ve asked, shown proof, and still hit a wall, start planning your next move.
F. Build networks that talk openly about pay
Part of the problem is secrecy. Create or join circles where women share pay information honestly. The more transparent the conversations, the harder it becomes for companies to conceal the gap.
Closing Thoughts
The sting of unequal pay isn’t only in the numbers. It’s in what it does to you. The quiet doubts it plants. The way it makes you second-guess your value, even when you’re working twice as hard, even when you’re the one holding the team together.
For many women, discovering the gap isn’t just a financial blow, it’s an emotional one. It chips at confidence, reshapes how you see yourself in the workplace, and sometimes even makes you question whether your best will ever be enough. That is the real damage.
We admit, this is a systemic problem. It needs policies, transparency, and accountability built into organisations. But while we wait for change at scale, there are small but powerful steps you can take: renegotiate with proof of your impact, ask for a formal salary review, and if the excuses never stop, consider walking away and finding a place that values you.
