Black Tax is one of those things no one really prepares you for. It’s not something you’re taught or warned about, it just slowly becomes part of your life.
You get a job, start earning, and not long after, the requests start.
Sometimes they’re small, like someone needing help with transport money or a utility bill. Other times it’s as big as school fees, rent, hospital costs and just like that, you’re handling expenses that aren’t yours but feel like your responsibility.
It’s not always forced. A lot of the time, you actually want to help. You feel proud to be in a position to support people you care about but there are moments when it’s overwhelming.
Then there’s the part no one wants to say out loud: sometimes, entitlement sneaks in. People stop asking and start expecting. You can’t complain, because “you’re the one who’s doing well.” But it adds up financially, emotionally and mentally. (Learn how to gain control of your finances.)
The Black Tax Experience
Here, five women talk about what Black Tax looks like in their lives.
Ifeoma, 32
“I didn’t plan to be the breadwinner. It just happened. First it was my brother’s school fees, then my mum’s hospital bills, then my dad’s pension didn’t come through for months. I was the only one earning, so everything fell on me. Nobody even asked. They just assumed I’d sort it.
It’s not like I don’t want to help. But sometimes I genuinely can’t breathe financially. And the worst part is, I can’t say that out loud. I’ve tried once or twice and the silence after was loud. It’s like I’m not allowed to be tired or broke.”
Tolu, 26
“The first time I said no to a money request, my sister stopped talking to me for two months. No argument, nothing. Just silence.
Now I’m scared of even spending on myself. If I post food, or a new bag, someone always sends me a message the next day like, ‘Please help me with small something.’ It’s like the moment they see you enjoying, they remember you owe them somehow.
I haven’t travelled in two years. I haven’t invested. I’m just in this cycle of collecting and sending. And half the time, I don’t even know how to say I don’t have it.”
Chiamaka, 39
“My salary enters and leaves. That’s just how it goes. Rent here, family stuff in Nigeria, something random every week. Generator repair. Hospital bill. School uniform.
I’ve started saying no more often, but the guilt doesn’t go anywhere. The worst is when they start comparing. ‘But you’re abroad now.’ Like my rent isn’t over a thousand pounds.
I want to help, but I also want to breathe. I want to take a break without calculating how it’ll affect somebody else’s survival.”
Linda, 35
“There was a month I borrowed money to be able to send money. That’s when I knew something had to change.
I grew up seeing my mum do everything for everybody, so I thought that’s just how it is. But it’s draining. Nobody ever asks how I’m doing. It’s just ‘Can you help me with…’ or ‘Send me something.’
The annoying part is, once you give once, it becomes automatic. You stop, and they act like you’re wicked. I’m not wicked. I’m just exhausted.”
Ronke, 28
“I didn’t even know what Black Tax was until I saw it online and realised, oh wait, this is what I’ve been living.
I take care of my mum, my younger sister, and sometimes my uncle’s kids. I’m not rich. I’m just the one with a salary. There are times I can’t save, can’t rest, can’t even buy data for myself without calculating ten other things.
And you can’t complain, because they’ll say ‘at least you have something.’ So I just keep quiet and stretch.”
So what helps?
There’s no perfect way to deal with Black Tax. It’s complex, emotional, and tied to people you genuinely care about. But there are ways to manage it without burning out.
Here are some real things women are doing to make black tax more bearable:
1. Set a monthly family budget
Decide upfront how much you’re willing (and able) to give each month. Once that amount is spent, that’s it.
2. Don’t say yes immediately
When a request comes in, pause. Ask follow-up questions: “What’s it for?” “Is it urgent?” “Can it wait till next month?” “Have you asked anyone else?”
This helps break the pattern of knee-jerk giving and puts some of the responsibility back on the person asking.
3. Make saving non-negotiable
Save before you give, not after. Even if it’s small. Even if it feels selfish. Your future matters too.
4. Start having the hard conversations
Talk to your siblings. Talk to your parents. Talk to whoever’s involved. It’s uncomfortable, but necessary. Let them know: “I want to help, but I also have to take care of myself.”
5. Create a soft landing for yourself
Whether it’s a side account for “just you,” a support group chat with friends in similar situations, or a therapist who understands your context, build something that’s for you because constantly giving without being poured into is a fast track to resentment.
There’s no perfect way to do this. Some days you’ll give. Some days you’ll say no. Some days you’ll feel guilty either way. That’s normal. Just don’t forget that you matter too.
