CAMPUS CULTURE AND CASH: HOW UNIVERSITY LIFE SHAPES THE WAY

University is often described as a place of learning, but long before grades begin to matter, campus starts teaching something else: how to spend money. Not through lectures or courses, but through everyday life. The first real reality check begins at university; you are your own person, free, finally free to pursue your dreams, make your own decisions, live by yourself, make breakfast by 10, do your chores or outsource them. You begin to make choices.

These choices feel harmless at first. A cupcake here, a shawarma there, a fancy watch, jewellery, a nice purse, a new outfit for an event. None of it feels serious until it suddenly is.

One random Tuesday, you decide to eat out again, and suddenly you are transferring from one bank app to another, sweating furiously, not from the hot amala but from fear of embarrassment. You have made jokes about washing plates or sweeping in the past, but now you are faced with the consequences of your newfound habit. You realise jokes are just jokes, silly little things. A few minutes later, you are trekking back to your hostel, the sun smiling extra brightly today. You can only watch at night as you walk through your favourite spots, places you have taken girls to, places you hung out with your guys last week. Last week was when again? Four, five days ago?

A typical day on campus takes you through multiple small expenses: ₦100 for keke here, ₦200 for printing there, one chilled drink to calm your parched throat, the sweet donut aroma that wouldn’t let you breathe until you buy one, a drink for a random classmate, and then money keeps disappearing. It’s just small, small expenses, but somehow your account balance spells your age. Nothing seems expensive on its own, yet money keeps disappearing. You don’t get it. You quietly ask yourself, is this what university really is?

Campus culture trains spending habits without formal lessons, an unregistered course for all students, with no lecturers, daily classes, and no exams. You begin to notice the different segregations: the nepo babies, the cool kids, the ones doing well for themselves, the LAPO babies. There’s a constant fear of being poor and a need to be part of the cool kids, the ones with the best fits, recognised at events, just young and getting it.

These people make your headaches seem normal. Lay your complaints to one of them and you hear everyone does it, it’s just recurring expenses, the basics: gadgets, transport fare, subscriptions, food, water, etc. You slowly realise this is a mini society with its own economy and values, which you need to adapt to, where spending is not just about survival but also about belonging. Even restraint starts to feel abnormal.

Day in, day out, you begin to adapt. You learn how to measure your finances, improve and track your spending habits, when to eat out or cook, distances to trek, leaving money for important events, money for gifts, emergencies. You learn to buy things in bulk, upgrade data plans, know when to hang out at the Wi-Fi spot, when to say no. You learn the little things that bring in cool cash. You understand that convenience becomes the default, so you learn to use your network and skills to your advantage, and suddenly you don’t have to think about these things anymore. It’s a habit already.

Looking at the changes that occur, it is clear that your circumstances influenced your decisions, but how? Your immediate environment takes about 90 percent of the credit. The university is a transition and an important decision making ground for teens up to early adulthood. It’s where individuals get a hold of themselves, measure their spending habits, and cultivate routines that work for them. These decisions, however, don’t come easy; they come from realisations, from suffering, watching others do better, or simply from wanting better for yourself.

Faced with numerous wants and needs, and of course a limited income, undergraduates learn to create a scale of preference, meet most of their needs and some of their wants. They learn to match their lifestyles with those around them, watching keenly how smart money moves are made. However, the system itself is built around spending: tight schedules that discourage cheaper options, cheaper options that are often repelling, printing costs, textbooks, software, group work expenses. It’s a never ending cycle.

You may have adapted quite well, but you have also developed spending habits that shape your life and follow you into adulthood. The need to fit into soft life aesthetics, spending beyond your means, keeping up appearances, the line between needs and wants blurred, and ridiculous standards to meet. Still, university does not ruin financial discipline. It shapes it. It forces young adults to confront real limits, real trade offs, and real consequences, often for the first time. Most financial lessons on campus are not taught gently; they are learned through mistakes, discomfort, and quiet observation of others.

Perhaps the most important lesson is this: spending on campus is rarely just about money. It is about time, identity, pressure, and survival. It is about learning when to say yes, when to say no, and when to pause. It is about understanding that every environment nudges behaviour quietly, often without permission.

The first step toward better money habits is awareness. When students begin to notice how their surroundings influence their choices, they regain the power to choose differently. Not perfectly, not all at once, but consciously.

University may not openly teach money, but it quietly leaves its mark. Long after the last exam is written, its lessons remain in the way we spend, the way we save, and the way we define what a good life should look like.

By Yusuf Azeezat Eniola