From NSFAS to No-Cash: A Month in My Wallet

From NSFAS to No-Cash: A Month in My Wallet

Being a student funded by NSFAS is like riding a financial rollercoaster—one moment, you feel like you’ve made it; the next, you’re trying to make R10 do the work of R100. Managing money as a university student isn’t just a skill—it’s a survival strategy. And somehow, no matter how optimistic we are when that money drops, by the end of the month, we’re all back in the same spot: wallet empty, cravings unchecked, and stress levels through the roof.

Week 1: The Ballin’ Phase

The moment NSFAS hits your account, it’s a celebration. There’s a burst of confidence that makes you feel like the richest person on campus. You settle rent or residence fees without breaking a sweat, restock all your toiletries, and finally buy that item that’s been sitting in your online cart for weeks.

You hit the grocery store like a champ—this time including fresh vegetables, sauces, and actual protein. Instant noodles and bread are pushed to the side like distant memories. You even treat yourself to a proper meal out—because you deserve it. You made it through another month of survival, so it’s only right to indulge a little. Life is good, and you start believing this time will be different.

Week 2: The "I Got This" Phase

The second week brings a dose of reality—but not panic. There’s still money left, but now you’re in budgeting mode. Suddenly, every price tag matters. You start calculating price per unit, checking for sales, and putting back snacks that don’t quite “fit the plan.”

You start asking yourself real questions like: “Do I really need this, or do I just want it?” Nights out become rare, and fast food becomes a guilty pleasure instead of a regular fix. Your confidence in money management grows—you genuinely believe you're mastering adulthood.

Week 3: The Budgeting Olympics Begin

Now the pressure starts building. Your balance has dropped enough to trigger a sense of caution. Meals get smaller, bread and noodles come back into the rotation, and your shopping list shrinks from “essentials and extras” to “just the basics.”

Takeaways are officially cancelled. You start planning your meals based on what’s already in the cupboard. Any unexpected expense—like printing, transport, or laundry—feels like a threat to your entire budget. The ATM becomes a place of anxiety. You check your balance multiple times a day, hoping for a miracle or that you somehow miscalculated. Spoiler: you didn’t.

Week 4: Survival Mode Activated

This is where things get real. The money is basically gone, and now you’re deep in “make a plan” territory. Your friends are all in the same boat, so you become a team—sharing resources, attending free campus events for snacks, and walking instead of taking taxis to save those few precious rands.

Instant noodles return in full force, and you start combining leftovers in creative ways just to make something edible. You calculate how many trips to campus your remaining transport money can cover. Requests for “a small top-up” from family members become part of your weekly strategy. Even social media becomes dangerous—you scroll past ads with the discipline of a monk.

Then the Cycle Repeats…

Just when you’re down to your last slice of bread and bottle of tap water, NSFAS drops again. The relief hits instantly. You breathe, smile, and tell yourself that this month you’ll do better, you’ll save more, and you’ll avoid unnecessary spending.

But the truth is, student life is unpredictable. A surprise assignment, unplanned expense, or group project contribution can throw your budget off course in seconds. And so, the cycle continues.

Final Thoughts

For students living the NSFAS life, budgeting isn’t just financial planning—it’s emotional endurance. It’s learning how to stretch R100 like a magician and turn basic ingredients into full-course meals. It’s asking for help when you need it and celebrating the small wins.

So, how do you stretch your last R100 when month-end hits? Share your survival tips—we could all use a few extra tricks.