I had never really thought about this as a “thing” until an encounter with my friend. We’ll call her Tope.
Tope had just gotten a new job, and while we were celebrating, she instantly started spiralling about her mom. Honestly, it was a full-on crashout. One minute, we were in her room, excited, and the next, she was biting her nails and worrying.
When I finally got her calm enough to answer, she explained that her mom worked at her bank, and she normally had access to their accounts and always knew their income. It wasn’t a problem for her when her income was low and next to nothing, but now that she was getting paid a better amount, she would be expected to contribute to the household, even though she had plans for herself.
Her elder sister was already facing the same problem. Even though her salary wasn’t exceptionally great, she was already contributing to the rent, paying the school fees of a younger cousin, and paying bills in the house.
Tope didn’t want that to be her life. Obviously, she understood that helping out wasn’t a bad thing. But her extended family was entitled, and she didn’t want them to take advantage of her.
We put our heads together and came up with a plan to create another bank account to receive her pay, from which she would send a smaller version of her salary to me, and I would then send it to the account her mom managed. Her mom didn’t know me personally, so that we couldn’t get caught. Problem solved.
The case stayed with me longer, however. I had always disclosed my income to my family because I lived at home, and I didn’t earn anything spectacular, so I used it to guilt-trip them. But what if I earned higher? Would I still tell them out of the fear of entitlement?
This fear has a name. It’s called the black tax.
The Unspoken Rule: If One of Us Makes It, We All Make It
According to the BBC, the term black tax is used to describe the financial burden borne by many black people who have achieved a noticeable level of success and find themselves providing support to less secure family members.
You may not have the name for it, but it’s a thing in most families, especially in the extended setting, rather than nuclear, especially if you are in the mid to low-income range as a household. It’s a simple, unspoken understanding. Once you start earning income, you’re expected to share. Not just with your nuclear household, but with your extended family, and even sometimes, your community members. According to a 2026 article by The Guardian, in Lagos salaried workers surveyed last year said that, on average, 20% of their monthly pay went toward supporting relatives.
And it’s not just a thing here at home; if you travel out, it’s even more emphasised. In the same article by The Guardian, many African workers abroad in the diaspora send significant portions of their income back home not because they can, but out of obligation. For some, it’s 10–20% monthly.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Supporting your family isn’t bad. In fact, it can be deeply honourable. African countries are communal; we don’t operate with individualistic mindsets. It’s how many of our parents survived. It’s how our education was funded. It’s how homes were built by everyone pitching in.
The problem is that when this support stops being voluntary generosity and starts feeling compulsory, it’s damaging your financial health and can build resentment.
That is what happens when your salary becomes a communal spreadsheet that people feel entitled to.
Why These Women Chose Not To Disclose Their Income
Looking at it personally, there’s something weird about people knowing the exact amount you earn. It transforms your money from an abstract concept into something measurable that they can track. And once it’s measurable, their expectations start to become mathematical.
If you earn this much, why can’t you send this much? They start to work with percentages and deduct their ‘shares’ from your money to tell you how much you’ll be left with.
And for Nigerian women, black tax even hits harder than men.
In a Zikoko piece on surviving black tax as a Nigerian woman, they talk about how, because women are expected to be nurturers, they’re expected to help everyone in the family. As they put it: “You’re basically the eldest daughter, and the unofficial second parent. Your brother? He’s chilling in his room, finishing his food in peace. You? You’re expected to share everything, including your salary.”
To get further insight, I spoke with five real women about whether or not they disclosed their income to their friends and family and how this affected their relationships:
“I have an older brother who’s practising as a doctor, so he’s the pride of the family. But I got into tech immediately after school, and I earn more than he does now, though my family has no idea; they think we’re in the same salary range. Yet they expect more contributions from me than from him because he’s a learning doctor and will need his salary more. I thank God I didn’t disclose close mine because it would not have been funny.” – Winifred, 23.
“My family is well off, so I never really understood the whole black tax thing. Until it came to my friends. At first, it was nice to help my girls sort out a few problems. I liked making them feel better and taking the headache away, but after a few times of giving, I noticed that they started to feel entitled. They would send bills to my DM without any explanation, take expensive items from my house, and act like I was their sugar daddy. I quickly cut that nonsense out and then.” Ope, 27.
‘I’m a big people pleaser, and I can’t say no, so they showed me pepper at home in my last job. At least 50% of my pay was going to my family and friends. If not for my boyfriend’s support, I don’t know how I would have survived. When I got this new one, I lied and cut my salary down by half so they would not kill me.” –Uche, 24.
“I was always a giver. Until I got a pay cut at work because of a query, and I needed money urgently, so I asked them back. I got no help from them, either my family or friends—the same people who were the reasons why I had no savings. I learnt my lesson and stopped helping. After two months of financial silence on my end, they called a family meeting on my head to blackmail me emotionally.” – Ebube, 32.
As these stories show, once you’re labelled “the successful one,” every financial decision you make becomes visible. They monitor your salary range and use that to gauge the demands they make on you, badger you, and sometimes, in comparison with your male counterparts, expect more unfairly.
If you say you can’t send money that month, someone remembers your salary, and they call a meeting to discuss, or emotionally blackmail you.
And then comes the guilt.
The Guilt Is The Hardest Part
That feeling you have, every time they ask and you don’t want to help, but eventually do, isn’t love; it’s guilt.
After all, your parents struggled to train you; they put in their time, money, and love, so how can you refuse to help? Your siblings also depend on you, so how can you put your savings over them? You’re also the first to get a good-paying job. How can you be selfish to your family when you have been blessed like this?
The mathematics is simple: When you needed them, they were there. Now, they need you.
And it’s not wrong. They do need your assistance now, and you should help.
But it becomes a problem when you keep helping at your detriment. It becomes a problem when your savings never grow, your emergency fund is abandoned, and you can never get started on your own dreams because you’re too busy funding someone else’s.
An analysis in ThisDay about black tax emphasises that supporting others should never come before securing your own financial future. You know that one TikTok sound, “I gotta put me first”? That should be your constant mental reminder.
Help, but always think of your future.
So… Should You Tell Your Family How Much You Earn?
The answer isn’t a clean yes or no.
It depends on the health of your relationships and your ability to stand your ground.
If your family respects you as an adult who can make and stick to their own decisions, and respects your limits, yes, you can. If they see your support as something always to appreciate, rather than demand, yes, you can. If you can bear to stick to your words and stance, even when they try to manipulate you and guilt-trip you, then you can too.
But if their first instinct when you disclose your income is to plan how to share your money immediately, then don’t. If they have a history of ignoring your boundaries and pushing them, do not disclose your salary. If you have plans for your money and are working to build your financial stability, do not disclose.
The bottom line is: you deserve financial peace. You don’t deserve to constantly worry about who will ask you for money next.
And whether you disclose your income or not, that peace is worth protecting.
