“The Fastest Way to Ruin Your Life”: Nigerian Man Sparks Debate Over Family Obligations and Financial Boundaries

A social media post by Nigerian investment influencer @iamtolufx, popularly known as InveStorTolu, has ignited a fiery online debate about the pressure placed on young adults in African families. His blunt assertion that “you shouldn't be taking care of your siblings; you didn't give birth to them” has been met with a storm of reactions, ranging from applause to outrage. In a world where cultural expectations often clash with personal financial goals, Tolu's comments are shining a harsh light on a reality many young people are silently struggling with.

In a viral post, the self-described financial educator didn’t mince words. He claimed that the quickest route to a scattered life for people aged 20 to 35 is footing bills that have nothing to do with them. “Fact still remains the fact,” he wrote with unapologetic clarity. “You shouldn't be taking care of your siblings; you didn't give birth to them. And more importantly, you shouldn't be taking care of relatives; they have nothing to do with you.” He didn’t stop there. InveStorTolu went further to call out the all-too-common habit of spending heavily on girlfriends who are not wives, calling it “the worst thing you can do.”

It’s the kind of statement that rips through the social fabric of Nigerian culture—and many others across Africa and the diaspora—where extended family support is often seen as a moral duty rather than a choice. For generations, the first person in a family to "make it" financially has been expected to shoulder the responsibilities of their parents, siblings, and even distant relatives. It’s a social contract that has rarely been questioned—until now.

What Tolu is saying, while harsh, echoes the quiet despair of many young professionals silently buckling under the weight of familial expectations. For them, the freedom that comes with employment or entrepreneurship is often quickly devoured by relentless demands: school fees for younger siblings, medical bills for aging parents, upkeep for cousins, and “urgent 2k” requests from all corners. Before they can breathe, the paycheck is gone. Investments? Zero. Savings? A myth. Mental peace? Long forgotten.

Tolu’s take is blunt but not necessarily heartless. His underlying message is simple: self-preservation is not selfishness. The problem, he implies, isn’t generosity; it's misdirected sacrifice. “The reason a lot of you are not going to smell generational wealth is because by the time you get to 40, you have spent every damn thing and you are tired,” he wrote. “You saved nothing, you invested in nothing, because they deceived you that ‘give and it shall be given unto you.’”

His reference to the oft-quoted Bible verse hits hard. Many young people grow up internalizing religious or cultural narratives that glorify giving, even to their own detriment. But what happens when that giving becomes an endless cycle of poverty disguised as duty? According to Tolu, the outcome is a burnt-out generation, financially and emotionally drained, with nothing to show for decades of sacrifice.

Unsurprisingly, his comments struck a chord—and a nerve. Some critics labeled him insensitive and accused him of promoting selfishness. “If your parents didn’t help your siblings, would you have made it?” one user fired back. Others, however, applauded his candor. “He’s not lying. Many of us are suffering in silence, trying to carry a whole village on our backs,” another responded.

The real conflict lies in the tension between survival and tradition. In many African societies, success is communal. When one person rises, the whole family rises with them—or so the narrative goes. But in reality, many “successful” young adults are just barely keeping their heads above water. What appears to be prosperity is often just pressure wrapped in a paycheck.

Even more controversial was his jab at relationships. “Spending on a girlfriend that is not your wife, my brother, that's the worst thing you can do,” he wrote. That line alone sent Twitter into meltdown. Detractors accused him of being misogynistic or anti-romance, while others saw it as a cautionary truth. In an era where "soft life" expectations can stretch a man’s finances to the breaking point, some agreed it was high time young men reassessed their spending priorities.

Whether or not one agrees with Tolu’s delivery, his message is timely. Across Africa and in diasporic communities around the world, conversations around financial independence, boundaries, and wealth building are becoming more urgent. The old model of one person sacrificing everything for the collective good is breaking down under the weight of modern economic realities.

There is also the emotional toll. Many who start out with good intentions eventually spiral into resentment. What begins as “helping out” becomes a lifetime sentence of never being enough. And when the money runs dry or the helper finally says “no,” they’re labeled selfish or ungrateful. It’s a cycle that damages relationships and erodes self-worth.

Tolu's message, controversial as it is, pushes back against this narrative. He's not advocating cold-hearted abandonment; he's arguing for balance. For young adults navigating this minefield, his words might just be the wake-up call they need to pause, reflect, and reset their priorities. Can you still love your family while setting boundaries? Can you give without giving your future away? These are the uncomfortable but necessary questions young people must confront.

At the heart of this viral moment is a deeper issue: the need to redefine what success and responsibility look like in a changing world. The concept of “making it” should not mean becoming a sacrificial lamb. Real generational wealth doesn’t start with draining yourself to fill everyone else's cup—it starts with building a foundation strong enough to lift others sustainably.

InveStorTolu may have delivered his thoughts with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but maybe that’s what was needed. Sometimes the truth doesn’t have to be polite—it just has to be clear. As uncomfortable as it may be, the message is resounding: the quickest way to ruin your life is to live it for everyone else.