Rich Kids Don’t Start From Zero – Stop The Hypocrisy. Born Rich, Born Ahead.

by Similoluwa Ifedayo

This isn’t an article I dashed out in a moment of anger. It’s one I’ve carried with me for a while. Turning it over, watching life, reinforces it again and again. Because let’s get one thing straight: being born rich is a privilege. Full stop. And if you flinched reading that, it’s probably because we live in a world where everyone wants to romanticise their “hustle” story. From grass to grace.

Let’s stop playing games. Being born rich is like starting a race at the 70m line of a 100m dash. You may still need to run, but your finish line is closer before you even move your legs. The rest of us? We’re not even on the track, we’re outside the stadium, trying to sneak in without tickets.

The uncomfortable truth is this: money doesn’t just buy cars and vacations. It buys peace of mind, access, shortcuts, and most importantly—options. When you’re born into wealth, failure isn’t final, it’s just “experience.” But when you’re born poor, failure can mean eviction, hunger, or shame.

And yet, society loves a good hypocrisy.

I am not saying rich kids don’t work hard. Some of them genuinely do. But what’s annoying is when people downplay the fact that their starting line is ten kilometres ahead of the poor/average.

If you’re born into money, your failures are padded. You can “find yourself” at 25 without starving. You can quit your job at will because your home will always have electricity, Wi-Fi, and food waiting. You can “chase your passion” without worrying about the next place to get food, fetch water or power supply.

Meanwhile, the average Nigerian is negotiating survival. You want to start a small business? Good luck. You’ll face epileptic power supply, water scarcity, insecurity, and a government that sees you as a threat the moment you become visible. But imagine starting that same business at 22 with your father’s connections, ready-made capital, and a safety net that ensures failure is just a plot twist, not a death sentence. Privilege doesn’t make the rich lazy, but it makes their risks less fatal.

That’s the piece we don’t like to admit. Being poor forces you to calculate every move. Being rich allows you to experiment, fall, pivot, and still land on a cushion. One mistake for the rich is a lesson. One mistake for the poor can ruin a whole family. (P.S: I laughed out loud.)

So no, we don’t all start life on the same playing field. Some are building ladders to climb walls; others are born sitting comfortably at the top, debating which elevator to take.

That’s the reality nobody likes to admit. Privilege works quietly but powerfully. It doesn’t shout, it whispers in access. It’s in having a parent who can call a friend to get you an internship. It’s in not worrying about rent while you “build your startup.” It’s never having to choose between textbooks and food.

And here’s where the hypocrisy kicks in: poor and middle-class people will preach “hard work is everything,” but deep down, they envy privilege while pretending it doesn’t matter. Rich kids will swear “anyone can make it if they grind,” but conveniently forget the invisible staircase beneath their feet. Both sides are lying.

The truth? We all have advantages: some big, some small. Maybe it’s money, maybe it’s brains, maybe beauty, maybe carriage, maybe craziness, maybe love, maybe it’s the network you stumbled into. The problem is when we deny these differences exist, acting like the game is fair. It’s not.

We need to stop pretending everyone starts life on the same track. Some people start with running shoes, some with bare feet, and some are already halfway to the finish line before the whistle even blows. Recognising privilege doesn’t invalidate your work, it just keeps you honest.

So yes, you can be born rich, start a business at 22, fail, and still bounce back because your last name is a trampoline. Good for you. Just don’t gaslight the rest into thinking they are lazy because they can’t replicate your “grind.”

Let’s call it what it is: privilege. And until we admit it, we’ll keep selling lies instead of building real conversations about inequality, opportunity, and the fact that hustle looks very different depending on where you’re starting from.

Until we stop pretending otherwise, we’ll keep feeding the lie that success is purely meritocracy, when in reality it’s meritocracy… with a heavy dose of head start. Anyway, that head start? I’m giving my generation. You should too.