In our boardrooms, a quiet confusion is brewing. Employers are offering competitive salaries, sleek offices, and standard benefits, yet our young hires are resigning in less than a year. The reason? A pay cheque, though, settling the bills, is no longer enough to keep them in a job.
This is not a rejection of money but a rejection of the idea that money alone defines the value of work. These unique generations grew up in an era where political movements and social justice campaigns played out live on their mobile screens. They were raised on stories of startups that scaled with a mission, not just a product. This means they are well informed. In Nigeria, especially, where opportunity and challenge collide daily, these young ones are wired to look for jobs that align with their values and professional purpose.
For decades, Nigerian job seekers had treated employment as a lifeline, a means to keep food on the table, pay school fees, and settle life’s most basic needs within reach. Jobs were functional, not aspirational. Financial stability was their ultimate pursuit. Personal fulfillment was treated as a luxury reserved for the wealthy. In an economy where unemployment rates often hit double digits, the first question was rarely, “Do I believe in this job?” But rather, will this job keep me alive?
Today, that calculation has been turned upside down. A new wave of young professionals sees a job not as a means to financial security but as a platform for influence, identity, and change. They want their work to be a statement, a visible extension of their values and larger purpose. The 2024 African Development Bank youth survey puts numbers to this shift: more than 70 percent of respondents under 30 said they would choose an employer with a strong social or environmental mission over one offering higher pay but no meaningful purpose. In other words, they are no longer asking, “How much does a job pay?” But what does the job represent?
This is more than a generational mood swing; it’s a seismic rupture in our labour market. This implies that employers clinging to old formulas, long hours, salaries, and rigidness will find themselves struggling to attract and retain these agile, mission-driven talents. These young workers are fluent in the language of purpose, they are impatient with lip service, and they are unafraid to walk away from jobs that fail to align with their values. They measure success not in currency alone, but in contribution, refusing to trade meaning for money. For them, work is not just a place to earn; it’s a place to matter.
Nigeria’s fintech revolution is witnessing a shift. While banks dangle hefty sign-on bonuses, our dear Gen Z graduates are opting for smaller fintech startups that aim to close financial inclusion gaps for rural populations. It’s not the size of the pay cheque that’s pulling them; it’s the size of the problem being solved.
Daily, employers are experiencing alarming resignations that affect their strategy execution. Sometimes, these resignations appear in the middle of nowhere, unexpectedly. This shift is overtly creating a new pressure point for employers: retention now depends on relevance. You can’t just offer more money; you must offer meaning and peace of mind, too. That means communicating a clear mission, showing measurable impact, and involving employees in shaping that impact. The top-down corporate culture where purpose is an afterthought simply doesn’t cut it anymore.
But this new purpose-driven workforce presents a leadership challenge. Many of our companies still operate with rigid hierarchies and opaque decision-making structures. These structures alienate younger workers who expect transparency and alignment with causes they care about. If business leaders don’t adapt, they risk losing their top talents not just to foreign recruiters but to local startups with bold missions.
The stakes are high. By 2035, Nigeria and Africa, by extension, will be hosting the world’s largest working-age population. If our brightest young minds can channel their ambition into solving Africa’s biggest challenges, from climate resilience to food security, the result could be a wave of innovation that doesn’t just serve Africa but reshapes the global economy.
For Africa’s Gen Z and soon-to-arrive Gen Alpha, the definition of work is already changing. They’re not clocking in for a pay cheque alone; they’re signing up for impact.
Consider Nigeria’s tech ecosystem. Many young engineers are rejecting lucrative oil and gas positions, the once-upon-a-time dream industry, to join clean energy startups, which are bringing solar power to rural communities. It’s not that they can’t get safe jobs; it’s that they won’t trade their purposes for fat wallets.
Even the global giants are discovering that Nigeria’s recruitment is now a values contest. When Microsoft opened its Nigeria centre, it didn’t just market its lofty compensation; it marketed its commitment to digital inclusion, AI ethics, and sustainable development. The message was clear: join us, and you’ll shape the future of the African continent.
The message from our new generations to business leaders is simple: stop offering jobs as transactions. Start offering them as transformations. Because the best of Gen Z and Alpha won’t just quit for better offers; they’ll quit without a next job lined up, confident in their ability to freelance, build startups, or join global remote teams whose missions match their values. The gig economy, digital platforms, and borderless work mean they have options their parents never had.
About the writer:
Deborah Yemi-Oladayo is the managing director of Proten International, a leading HR consulting firm in Nigeria, specialising in talent acquisition, learning and development, and HR advisory services. Email: d.yoladayo@protenintl.com.
