Buying expensive things even when you're poor makes sense
Cost-per-use psychology and Nigeria’s poverty or inflation problem show that buying “expensive” quality items when you’re poor can actually be the smartest way to build long-term wealth.
Speaking as a poor person defying national odds to build wealth, buying things just because they’re cheap is a terrible idea. So, stop it!
In our current economic environment (2024–2025):
Minimum wage reached ₦70,000 in July 2024, while inflation hit 34.19% in June 2024
Food inflation alone reached 40.9% (up from 25.3% year-over-year)
Real purchasing power: A ₦70,000 wage buys less each month
So every purchase decision is increasingly essential because a cheap item that fails in 6 months represents a lost opportunity. But a very good buy is a hedge against inflation.
Now that doesn’t mean all expensive things are good.
So let me explain.
I was talking to a friend recently who just started earning about ₦300,000 per month (roughly $200 USD at current exchange rates). That’s still poor by any real standard, even if it’s better than someone earning ₦100,000.
I told him he needed to upgrade his appearance to match his new role. Better shoes. Better clothes. Look more professional.
His response? “That’s too expensive.”
My younger self would have said many things to win him over, but age has a way of making you short of words. So I used maths instead, and he bought the idea straight up.
I’ve shared this thought process at least three times since coming to it months ago, and it hasn’t stopped making sense. I’m assuming you’d like it to, so I did some research to add veracity to the idea, and voila! An article about shoes, clothes, laptops and common-sense economics.
A cost-per-use approach to building wealth
Say you buy a pair of decent tokunbo (imported, fairly used) shoes for ₦30,000. That’s 10% of a ₦300,000 monthly salary. Make that two pairs at the exact cost for each, and that’s 20%. Of course, it’s expensive. I know you still have to pay your utility bills, transportation costs, and sort out family obligations and so on.
But those shoes don’t disappear after one month, so you have to buy another pair the next month.
Even if someone steals both pairs the first time you buy them, chances are they won’t come back to steal the same pair of shoes if you repurchase them the following month, so relax.
You see, if you work 22 days a month, that’s 264 working days per year. Over 5 years (I like using 5 years as the average lifespan for quality items; it’s conservative and easy to estimate), you’ll wear them roughly 1,320 days.
Let’s calculate it using the price of one.
₦30,000 ÷ 1,320 days = ₦23 per day.
₦23 per day for quality footwear that makes you appear richer than many people you’ll see across Lagos every day. That’s all it would cost to increase perceived worth and get an extra ‘Sir’ from the security guard at your office.
That’s less than the price of “pure water” (sachet water, it’s now ₦50 in Lagos Island).
Now compare that to cheap ₦10,000 or less shoes that tear every week. Think of the shame, the discomfort and the cost of repairs.
You’ll buy them at least 3 times a year, spend ₦30,000 total, and still end up with worse shoes.
The “cheap” option actually costs more, and you get no increase in social capital. How do I mean?
Dress the way you want to be addressed, and you’ll earn more
This principle also applies directly to your paycheck.
Several peer-reviewed studies document that professional appearance directly correlates with earnings:
Attractiveness premium: A 1 standard deviation increase in facial attractiveness is associated with 2.0–3.3% higher lifetime earnings
General appearance advantage: Good-looking workers earn approximately $19,945 (roughly ₦30 million) more annually than average-looking peers—nearly equivalent to a college degree’s financial benefit
Formal attire productivity: Employees who dress formally are 25% more productive than casual dressers, regardless of industry
Sales and first impressions: Properly dressed customer-facing employees increase sales by 30%, while 80% of recruiters believe clothing directly affects job prospects and promotions
You might say ‘okay, but these studies are mostly in the US'. ‘ Trust this. Please stop taking your chances in Nigeria on this matter. We’re very stereotypical, and we judge quickly.
Just do the needful.
If professional clothing can increase your annual earnings by ₦150,000–₦500,000, then investing ₦60,000 in quality shoes and ₦150,000 in professional clothing isn’t a luxury.
It’s common sense, I think. But this idea has actually been studied in consumer psychology research, which confirms that when people evaluate items through the lens of usage frequency and longevity, they naturally shift toward higher-quality options with lower long-term costs.
If you’re in sales, borrow this idea and roll it out whenever someone says what your offering is expensive, but make sure you aren’t selling rubbish, please.
Boots theory on why poverty keeps us poor
We often think of stingy and generous people as if these traits are natural attitudes only. But this idea is actually old. And one of the things I’ve learned about wealth management is that it can be learned.
British author Terry Pratchett wrote in his 1993 novel Men at Arms. His character, Sam Vimes, a working-class city guard, explains this idea too:
“A really good pair of leather boots cost fifty dollars. But an affordable pair of boots, which were sort of OK for a season or two and then leaked like hell when the cardboard gave out, cost about ten dollars... But the thing was that good boots lasted for years and years. A man who could afford fifty dollars had a pair of boots that’d still be keeping his feet dry in ten years’ time, while a poor man who could only afford cheap boots would have spent a hundred dollars on boots in the same time and would still have wet feet.”
So, you see, the rich also get richer over time because of the way they spend, not just because of the way they get or earn.
The observation made by that character eventually became known as the “Sam Vimes Boots Theory of Socioeconomic Unfairness.” So yes, poverty forces people into expensive cycles of cheap purchases, but they also stay poor because they don’t want to break that cycle.
But break it! Please break this cycle.
I know how hard it is. It’s definitely not as easy as I make it sound. I was recently offered a ₦900,000 tokunbo laptop, which would be suitable for my work. The owner bought it about a year ago and wanted to sell to raise money for relocation abroad. The specs are worth the cost, but I couldn’t afford it!
So, I will likely spend more than ₦900,000 on cheap computers over the next 5 years, if I decide to make gradual upgrades. Worse, given current inflation, a ₦900,000 laptop today could be worth ₦1.2–₦1.5 million in 2–3 years.
Poverty prevents people from making sound economic decisions, but it’s possible to overcome it. I, too, must break the cycle.
Waiting is expensive, too.
In many instances, people stop at this point when discussing this issue, but there’s more to it.
Let me explain.
The cost of not buying good things on time is high, but delaying it multiplies the cost.
If you’re a freelancer with a monthly net of ₦300,000 who just learned you need a platform subscription that will genuinely improve your productivity and earning capacity but that costs ₦200,000 annually, you have one of two choices:
Should you buy it immediately?
You subscribe in Month 1
For 12 months, you benefit from time savings, better work output, and professional advantages.
Total value extracted: 12 months of compounding benefit over 12 months.
Should you save gradually to buy it later?
You decide to save ₦50,000 monthly and subscribe 4 months later
You delayed 3 months, missing entirely the value the tool could have provided
When you finally subscribe, you’ve lost 3 months of productivity advantage
Total value extracted: 12 months of benefit over 15 months
So you’ve permanently lost 3 months of income potential, skill development, and opportunity.
That time cannot be recovered because:
Time is your most valuable asset when you’re poor.
One study on procrastination and financial behaviour found that people who delay investments in tools and skills experience significantly worse economic outcomes than those who invest immediately.
Are you sure you can’t afford it?
Different situations require different strategies:
When you can’t afford:
The money literally doesn’t exist. You earn ₦150,000 monthly and have ₦120,000 in fixed rent plus utilities. You cannot spend ₦200,000 on anything. This is physics, not psychology.
When it’s uncomfortable to afford:
The money exists, but spending it feels scary or requires sacrifice. You earn ₦300,000, have ₦150,000 in fixed expenses, and the remaining ₦150,000 is yours, but spending ₦30,000 (20% of discretionary income) on shoes feels dangerous because you’re emotionally attached to that safety buffer.
When you truly can’t afford something, you need to save methodically, but more importantly, negotiate payment plans that let you get the value of the purchase instantly and pay it off gradually.
But when you’re uncomfortable spending, which is where most people earning ₦300,000+ in my experience are, the real cost is not the purchase. The real cost is the value you’re not getting.
Wealth compounds, poverty compounds too
No rule, I think, in wealth management is as popular as the law of compounding, but people have it wrong when they believe that only gains or prosperity compound. Poverty is also a force multiplier.
One study on compound effects shows that small financial decisions accumulate dramatically over time.
If Udo likes cheap things and purchases five shirts at ₦15,000 each, the total is ₦75,000. If they last 6 months each, the annual cost: ₦150,000 in constant replacement, with perpetual professional image anxiety.
But if Udo purchases three quality shirts at ₦30,000 each, the total will be ₦90,000. If they last 3+ years, the annualised cost is ₦30,000, with a consistent professional image and psychological stability.
Udo can save ₦100,000–₦120,000 annually. Over 10 years at a modest 8% investment return, that ₦100,000 annual difference becomes ₦1.6 million in accumulated wealth.
Hyperbolic discounting
But why do we resist buying expensive, quality items even when the math supports it, and we know it?
Hyperbolic discounting is a cognitive bias where people heavily weigh immediate costs over future benefits. If you earn ₦300,000 monthly, a ₦30,000 purchase feels like 10% of your entire monthly income right now; you can feel it.
If you buy it anyway, you will benefit from that quality shoe’s durability, but its durability feels abstract and distant; you can’t feel it. Judging by your feelings, and you go with the ₦10,000 shoe to avoid immediate discomfort, you’re sacrificing long-term financial health.
If you can resist that feeling of discomfort when you’re buying a reasonably quality item, you’ll feel the worth of that good judgment sooner than you think.
When should you buy expensive things?
Try using these questions to improve spending decisions. They’ve been helpful to me.
What’s the cost-per-use over its lifetime?
Purchase price ÷ expected days of use = daily cost. If this number is low (₦25–₦100 per day for heavy-use items over a five-year lifespan), the “expensive” item is actually cheap
What value am I losing by waiting?
That is, will delaying cost me time, money, or opportunities? Or is the cost of NOT having this greater than the cost of buying?
Does this improve my earning ability or save me money?
Tools for work: Usually yes
Professional appearance: Usually yes
Status symbols: Usually no
Prioritise the items with the most significant impact.
Can I genuinely afford this, even if uncomfortable?
Do I have the money after covering essentials, or am I cutting something less important, or going into harmful debt?
Is this quality that lasts, or just expensive branding?
Research durability and warranty
If you answer positively to questions 1-4, and carefully to question 5, buy it. Don’t wait. Don’t “save up gradually” while losing value every single day.