The Nigerian expression for being genuinely broke, carrying solidarity and humor rather than shame about financial hardship.
Sapa is the word Nigerians reach for when their wallet's empty and rent is due. It describes that grinding experience of being broke—not the temporary inconvenience of forgetting your card, but the real financial strain that makes you recalculate every purchase. You'd say "sapa don hold me" to acknowledge you're living on the edge this month.
The phrase emerged from Lagos street culture in the 2000s, spreading through Nigerian Pidgin English before appearing in writing around 2016. By 2020, Afrobeats artists like Zlatan and Portable brought it into mainstream music, but the term was already circulating widely among young Nigerians navigating inflation, naira devaluation, and limited economic opportunity.
What makes sapa powerful is how it transforms financial struggle into collective identity. When someone identifies with "Sapa Nation," they're not expressing shame—they're claiming membership in a community that understands. The phrase carries humor and solidarity, allowing people to name their economic reality without losing dignity. In a country where youth unemployment and currency instability create widespread hardship, sapa became both coping mechanism and social commentary—a way to say "I'm struggling" that connects rather than isolates.