GridLocked is a daily pop culture guessing game built for Nigerians. Every weekday by 9am, you’ll get six clues, sixty seconds, and an answer only a Nigerian would know.
Today’s GridLocked is a company.
How many clues do you need to get it right? 👀
Share your result when done, but don’t spoil the answer for others. (Missed the last GridLocked? Play it here.)
27 May 2026
Guess The Company01:00
Title
Guesses: 0
00:00
How To Play
The Goal: Guess the answer for the day before time runs out. (The answer could be a person, place, song, movie, or even slang.)
The Lock: You cannot type a guess until you have revealed at least one tile.
The Reveal: Tap any tile to reveal a clue. Every clue on the grid describes the answer for the day.
The Clock: You have 60 seconds to guess right. The timer starts the moment you flip your first tile. (You get multiple guesses.)
The Score: ⬜ (White) = A tile you flipped 🟪 (Purple) = A tile you kept hidden.
Best Result = ⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪 | Guesses: 1 (Only needed one clue and one guess to get it right)
Come back every weekday by 9am for a new grid or subscribe to Z Daily, Zikoko’s daily newsletter, to get new GridLocked puzzles, real Nigerian stories and other fun content in your inbox.
How to Play GridLocked
The Goal: Guess the answer for the day before time runs out. (The answer could be a Nigerian person, place, song, movie, or even slang.)
The Lock: You cannot type a guess until you have revealed at least one tile (clue).
The Reveal: Tap any tile to reveal a clue. Every clue describes the answer for the day. The fewer tiles you flip, the better.
The Clock: You have 60 seconds to guess right. The timer starts the moment you flip your first tile. (You get multiple guesses.)
The GridLocked Squares: What Do They Mean?
When the game ends, you see your guess count, total time spent, and the number of tiles flipped. The tiles are shown as white and purple squares.
⬜ (White) = A tile you flipped
🟪 (Purple) = A tile you left closed
The fewer white tiles you have, the better your result.
Best Result = ⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪 | Guesses: 1 (Only needed oneclue and oneguess to get it right)
In 2026, after three years of Tinubu’s leadership, the vibe is completely different. It is looking less like “we are so back” and a lot more like “it’s so over”. Here is exactly how Tinubu fumbled Nigeria’s regional standing.
Where did we go?
If Tinubu is claiming “we’re back,” where are we coming from and where are we going back to? Nigeria used to be a regional superpower: economically, politically and militarily.
Buhari had already dropped the ball on our global standing. So when Tinubu promised a comeback, you might have expected him to pick it back up. Sadly, it’s more like he’s just kicked it further down the road.
Nigeria has always been seen as the “big brother” of West Africa, but Tinubu immediately overplayed his hand. He gave the Niger junta a seven-day ultimatum to hand back power or face a military invasion.
So, what did this reckless bluff actually achieve? It completely pissed off some of our neighbours. Burkina Faso and Mali promised to back Niger if ECOWAS invaded. Just two months into his presidency, Tinubu had Nigeria staring down the barrel of an all-out regional war.
When the ultimatum expired, and we did not invade, it only exposed Nigeria’s weakness. Military experts had already warned that invading Niger would turn into a long, messy campaign, and our hesitation showed the world we did not have the stomach or capacity for it.
By September 2023, Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger had formed the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), a rival regional bloc to ECOWAS. However anyone looks at it, one thing will always remain true: ECOWAS lost three member countries and became significantly weaker under Tinubu.
Breakup blues
This breakup is not victimless. Beyond the suffering in Niger, Nigeria is paying a heavy price for destroying relationships with its neighbours.
These tense relationships don’t just leave us vulnerable to terrorists; they put our troops in direct danger.
In December 2025, eleven Nigerian Air Force personnel flying a plane to Portugal for routine maintenance suffered a mechanical fault and had to make an emergency landing in Burkina Faso. Under normal diplomatic conditions, a neighbour would offer a hangar and some assistance. Instead, the Burkina Faso military government swiftly arrested and detained our pilots, accusing them of violating their airspace. It took a full week of tense, high-stakes negotiations just to get them released.
The cost of Tinubu fumbling our regional standing is measured in lost lives, closed schools and ruined communities. That is the real legacy of his regional foreign policy over the last three years.
Global embarrassment
Naija to the world
We’ve already talked about how Tinubu undermined Nigeria’s place as a regional “big brother” in West Africa. We’ll give you one guess as to how he’s done on the global stage.
If you guessed he’s done well, you really need to work on your pattern recognition skills. If you guessed he’s fumbled that too, congratulations, you’re correct. Also, condolences, because the effects of his fumbling have made all our lives harder. You little know-it-all, you’re right, but at what cost?
Let’s find out exactly how Tinubu has fumbled Nigeria’s international standing.
Homecoming
Like we said earlier, Tinubu wasn’t wasting any time when it came to screwing things up. In September 2023, just three months after taking office, he recalled all of Nigeria’s ambassadors across 109 countries.
Now, that in itself is not a bad thing. A new president usually recalls old appointees to put their own people in. What was completely unexpected was that Tinubu just didn’t appoint anyone else. For over two years, Nigeria had no ambassadors and zero representation across the globe.
Too little, too late
After major diplomatic tensions with the United States over accusations that his government was complicit in a genocide of Nigerian Christians, Tinubu finally realised the importance of international relationships. In March 2026, he finally approved the posting of 65 ambassadors, which he had delayed for god knows why.
But it’s not going smoothly. Multiple countries have already rejected his appointees. With only one year left in his presidential term, foreign governments don’t want to waste time onboarding ambassadors who might get kicked out if a new president wins in 2027. They’d rather just wait. Basically, Tinubu waited too long, and now it’s too little, too late.
We’ll always have Japan
Tinubu’s presidency has been a steady stream of global embarrassments, and Japan is a prime example.
But the State House wasn’t done embarrassing us. On the final day, the Director of Information, Abiodun Oladunjoye, proudly announced that Japan had named the city of Kisarazu “the Hometown of Nigeria” and would grant Nigerians a special visa.
He said, “Artisans and other blue-collar workers from Nigeria who are ready to upskill will also benefit from the special dispensation visa to work in Japan.”
The Japanese government immediately came forward to debunk the claim, basically calling our administration liars. There was no special visa. The State House quietly deleted the claim and published a correction. Shame wear me asiwaju cap.
The joy was short-lived. The UAE quickly issued its own statement contradicting the claim. The presidency was forced to walk back its announcement, lamely explaining that both sides were still working out “the finer details.”
Johannesburg gbese
The international embarrassment continues with the fact that Nigeria can’t seem to keep the lights on in its own buildings. In 2023, a Johannesburg electricity company cut off power to Nigeria’s Consulate over an unpaid bill of $23,000. The High Commission in South Africa suffered the exact same fate, getting disconnected in September 2025 and again in February 2026 for unpaid utility bills.
Unwanted visitors
Is a little global embarrassment the only consequence of Tinubu fumbling our foreign policy? Sadly, no.
Because the Tinubu administration has zero geopolitical weight, we cannot negotiate better migration terms or protect our citizens looking for greener pastures. When Western countries want to cut down on immigration numbers, Nigeria is always the easiest target because they know Abuja will not do anything about it.
Children of No Nation
The absolute scariest part of this fumbled international standing is what happens when Nigerians face actual life-or-death emergencies abroad.
Look at the Middle East. A massive conflict involving the United States, Israel, and Iran escalated earlier this year, with Iran launching a wave of retaliatory strikes hitting multiple countries across the region. Many Nigerians suddenly found themselves stranded in volatile combat zones.
Instead of an immediate extraction, the government’s evacuation strategy was sluggish. The bombings began on February 28. Yet, by March 17, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was still planning instead of executing. The Ministry’s spokesperson, Kimiebi Ebienfa, said: “The government is working out the necessary administrative details and the release of funds to commence evacuation.”
When you are dodging missiles in a foreign land, the last thing you want to hear is that your country is still sorting out “administrative details,” but that’s exactly what you get with this administration.
Nigerians must go
The exact reactive script is playing out in South Africa right now. In May 2026, xenophobic tensions boiled over again across major South African cities. Sadly, this is not the first time something like this has happened, yet the Nigerian government still looked completely clueless.
The newly appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs, Bianca Odumegwu-Ojukwu, had to urgently scramble plans for a voluntary evacuation flight for the hundreds of Nigerians who registered in fear for their lives. To add insult to injury, the Ministry informed Nigerians looking to leave South Africa that they would have to fund their own flights. The government was willing to “facilitate” the return but would not pay for it or provide the plane.
Let’s sit with that for a minute.
The fact that these xenophobic attacks remain a frequent occurrence without a strong, definitive response from the South African government to protect foreign nationals shows just how little diplomatic leverage Nigeria has left. Good luck being taken seriously by a country that keeps disconnecting your embassy buildings over unpaid electricity bills.
We are constantly playing defence. Instead of using high-level diplomacy to prevent xenophobic violence before it starts, we wait until our people are living in terror before trying to rescue them. And even that is done badly. When a country’s foreign policy is this weak, its citizens are always the ones who pay the price.
Made in Nigeria
Whether you live in Lagos or the diaspora, as long as you carry a green passport, the government’s foreign policy moves affect your daily life. The missteps of the Tinubu administration over these three years have made things harder, more restrictive, and at times have directly endangered Nigerian lives. Tinubu is fumbling Nigeria’s international standing, but it is ordinary citizens who are paying the ultimate price.
We cannot change the fact that we are Nigerian, but we can certainly change how the world perceives us. And that starts with the government that represents us on the world stage.
We want to hear about your personal experiences that reflect how politics or public systems affect daily life in Nigeria. Share your story with us here—we’d love to hear from you!
Let’s be honest, most of us open a ride-hailing app for the same reasons every day.
We’re running late. Traffic is stressful. Fuel is expensive. Lagos is… Lagos-ing. But what if those same everyday rides could also help support children and families in need?
From May 27 to May 31, a portion of earnings from rides completed on Bolt will go toward supporting vulnerable children and families through SOS Children’s Villages Nigeria.
And the best part? You don’t have to do anything extra. No awkward donation prompts. No “add ₦500?” popup. No extra charges. You literally just move around normally.
Your ride to brunch? Counts. That trip to work you almost cancelled because of surge pricing? Still counts. The random “I’m outside” ride at 9pm? Also counts
The campaign is built around something really simple, everyday movement can still create impact.
In a country where people are constantly on the move, between work, side hustles, traffic, school runs and last-minute plans, it’s refreshing to see a campaign that doesn’t ask people to pause their lives to contribute.
You just exist. Move. Commute. Bolt handles the giving part. And honestly, that’s probably what makes this feel relatable.
Children’s Day campaigns can sometimes feel distant or overly corporate, but this one quietly taps into something human: the idea that small actions, multiplied by thousands of people, can genuinely support someone else’s future.
So if you’re already taking rides this week anyway, your trip might end up doing a little more than just getting you to your destination. It might also help send care!
In music, a mid album is one that’s mediocre, forgettable or padded with filler tracks. It’s at best an average project that lacks a clear direction or replay value. The Nigerian music scene is highly competitive, and consistently releasing unforgettable albums these days is rare. However, a select group of artists across different generations and genres have been able to pull this off.
From afropop to hip-hop and alternative lanes, the artists on this list share one thing in common: a zero-skip discography. Their albums prioritise resonance, cohesive storytelling, high-value production, and elite songwriting and sequencing.
Anendlessocean is a Gospel artist who thrives in the alternative and indie space. His music projects such as OCTAGON (2024), Sceptre (2025), Hexagon (2024) and Decagon (2023), are immersive experiences built on flawless vocals, soothing melodies and sharp, introspective songwriting. His music is relatable to folks in the church or the world.
Asake’s rise to stardom came with a heavy expectation, but he has delivered consistently on every album. Albums like Mr. Money With The Vibe (2022) and Work of Art (2023) are completely devoid of filler. The highly distinctive fusion of Fuji music, choral vocals and Amapiano already set him apart in the industry. LUNGU BOY (2024) and M$ney (2026) are experimental in sound but still keep listeners engaged.
As the pioneer of modern Nigerian pop, 2Baba’s discography is a blueprint for longevity. From Face 2 Face (2004) to Warriors (2020), he has never dropped a mid album. His projects remain top-tier perhaps because he roots them in strong themes such as social consciousness, romance and African unity.
Blaqbonez refuses to be boxed into a single genre, and that’s why his albums never really feel repetitive. He has released projects like Last Time Under (2018), Mr Bombastic (2019), Sex Over Love (2021), Young Preacher (2022), Emeka Must Shine (2023) and No Excuses (2025), that have high replay value and show his mastery of blending entertaining rap flows and catchy hooks with afropop, dancehall, Amapiano, etc. He remains one of the most consistent and successful Nigerian rappers to date.
Tiwa Savage has maintained her status as the Queen of Afrobeats through quality control. Albums like Once Upon a Time (2013), R.E.D (2016), Celia (2020), Sugar and Garri (2024) and This One Is Personal (2025) highlight her ability to seamlessly blend R&B, pop and Afrobeats. Her commanding vocal performances, A-list production choices and her ability to evolve her sound without losing her core identity.
Even before the Grammy phase, Burna Boy’s music projects have been outstanding. His Grammy run, from African Giant (2020) to Twice as Tall (2021) and No Sign of Weakness 2025), proves his dedication to making albums. And they’re widely acclaimed for his great use of live instrumentation, lyricism, storytelling, and his ability to transition smoothly between afropop, dancehall, hip-hop, and highlife.
Wizkid’s discography captures the evolution of modern Afrobeats. Every era comes with a reinvention. Superstar (2010), his debut, is a pop masterpiece. Ayo (2014) and Morayo (2024) find him exploring Afrobeats sensibilities, while Sounds For the Other Side (2017), Made in Lagos (2020) and More Love, Less Ego (2022) are a global blueprint for smooth, mid-tempo Afro-fusion. His albums succeed because of their incredible replay value, infectious melodies and great arrangements.
SDC, as they’re fondly called, holds one of the most flawless and extensive catalogues in African music. By dividing their albums into two distinct lanes — the rap-heavy Clone Wars series and the highlife-infused Palmwine Music series — Ghost and Tec put their creativity to work in distinctive ways. They’re also master curators. They combine thought-provoking, mature rap verses with catchy production and perfectly selected guest features to create albums that are culturally significant and timeless.
Ayra Starr represents the new generation of popstars. Across 19 & Dangerous (2021) and The Year I Turned 21 (2024), she has proven capable of releasing albums that are cohesive, unapologetic and carried by her powerful songwriting and vocals. Themes like youth, ambition and romance set her music apart.
From New Era (2016) to Maverick (2023), Kizz Daniel’s albums are packed with hits. He adheres strictly to perfecting melodies and crafting a catchy hook, skills he consistently applies across full-length projects without losing steam. Kizz Daniel operates under the self-proclaimed title of “No Bad Songz,” and his albums actually live up to the boast.
His albums such as Rave & Roses (2022) and HEIS (2024) are sonic experiments that paid off excellently. He refuses to play it safe; he consistently introduces fresh vocal cadences, jolting production and complex global influences — and these have made his music successful and impactful.
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Asa’s discography is GOATED. From her self-titled debut in 2010 to V (2023), she has prioritised artistic integrity over only commercial pressure. Her music is rooted in live instrumentation and emotive storytelling that resonate and almost fit into every life. Every Asa album is an intimate, perfectly rehearsed live concert.
Fireboy DML established himself as one of the brightest stars of modern Afrobeats when he debuted with Laughter, Tears & Goosebumps (2019). The album is famously praised for having zero skips. He has sustained this quality across his discography — APOLLO (2020), Playboy (2022) and adedamola (2024) — by relying on his pen game. His albums are excellent because he matches emotionally resonant lyrics with captivating vocal performances.
GridLocked is a daily pop culture guessing game built for Nigerians. Every weekday by 9am, you’ll get six clues, sixty seconds, and an answer only a Nigerian would know.
Today’s GridLocked is a movie.
How many clues do you need to get it right? 👀
Share your result when done, but don’t spoil the answer for others. (Missed the last GridLocked? Play it here.)
26 May 2026
Guess The Movie01:00
Title
Guesses: 0
00:00
How To Play
The Goal: Guess the answer for the day before time runs out. (The answer could be a person, place, song, movie, or even slang.)
The Lock: You cannot type a guess until you have revealed at least one tile.
The Reveal: Tap any tile to reveal a clue. Every clue on the grid describes the answer for the day.
The Clock: You have 60 seconds to guess right. The timer starts the moment you flip your first tile. (You get multiple guesses.)
The Score: ⬜ (White) = A tile you flipped 🟪 (Purple) = A tile you kept hidden.
Best Result = ⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪 | Guesses: 1 (Only needed one clue and one guess to get it right)
Come back every weekday by 9am for a new grid or subscribe to Z Daily, Zikoko’s daily newsletter, to get new GridLocked puzzles, real Nigerian stories and other fun content in your inbox.
How to Play GridLocked
The Goal: Guess the answer for the day before time runs out. (The answer could be a Nigerian person, place, song, movie, or even slang.)
The Lock: You cannot type a guess until you have revealed at least one tile (clue).
The Reveal: Tap any tile to reveal a clue. Every clue describes the answer for the day. The fewer tiles you flip, the better.
The Clock: You have 60 seconds to guess right. The timer starts the moment you flip your first tile. (You get multiple guesses.)
The GridLocked Squares: What Do They Mean?
When the game ends, you see your guess count, total time spent, and the number of tiles flipped. The tiles are shown as white and purple squares.
⬜ (White) = A tile you flipped
🟪 (Purple) = A tile you left closed
The fewer white tiles you have, the better your result.
Best Result = ⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪 | Guesses: 1 (Only needed oneclue and oneguess to get it right)
Rahma* (33) thought she’d found happiness twice, only for both marriages to end in devastating loss, leaving her to care for four kids alone. In this episode of On the Streets, she shares how she became widowed twice by 30 and why she’s sworn off love for good.
What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?
I’m single and never mingling again. I’ve tried love twice, and both times ended in tragedy. I believe marriage just isn’t meant for me.
How did you get to this point? Walk me through your dating history
I was a very sheltered and quiet child. I didn’t really mix with people and barely had friends. I had a boyfriend in SS3, but the most we did was make out. The relationship ended after secondary school in 2009 because we grew apart.
After that, I stayed home for more than a year because I wanted to retake UTME and get a better score. During that period, Idris* moved into our compound as a tenant. My parents rented the downstairs apartment to him while we lived upstairs.
At first, all I knew was that he worked in a bank and his wife had recently left him. My mum felt sorry for him because he mostly kept to himself, so she’d sometimes send me downstairs with food.
I wanted to study accounting, and because he worked in banking, I’d sometimes ask him for help with maths. We became close, and I slowly developed a crush on him. He was observant and kind, always complimenting the things I felt insecure about, especially my full cheeks, which he insisted were beautiful.
A few months into our friendship, I confessed my feelings to him in a note. He felt the same way, too.
Oh. Did the age gap ever bother you?
Yes. He was already in his 30s, and at first, he pulled back. But honestly, I kept pushing things forward. One day, I kissed him, and from there, we started sneaking around and eventually having sex.
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Hmm.
I was deeply in love. I’d go to his apartment whenever my parents weren’t around, and things continued like that for about three months. Then, I missed my period.
I suspected I was pregnant, so I ran to him, panicking. At first, he looked shocked and kept asking if I’d slept with anyone else. Of course, I hadn’t. He was the first and only person I’d ever been with.
He bought a test strip, and when it came back positive, he actually looked happy.
He immediately started talking about marriage and begged me not to terminate the pregnancy. Back then, abortion wasn’t something I could consider because I believed anyone who did one would die.
How did your parents react?
That was the hardest part. Idris brought an elder from his family because he was too scared to face my parents alone. The moment they broke the news, my mum slapped me and then turned on him too. I still remember Idris lying flat on the floor while my mother beat him and screamed in disbelief.
The elder eventually explained that Idris’ first marriage ended after years of trying for children. Doctors later revealed he had a low sperm count, and after treatments failed, his ex-wife publicly humiliated him before leaving. The experience left him depressed, so he saw my pregnancy as a miracle.
He promised my parents he’d sponsor my education to any level I wanted and do right by me through marriage. My parents were furious at first, but eventually accepted the situation. We got married barely two months later.
What was married life like?
It was wonderful. Idris treated me like an egg, and we hardly argued. After our first daughter was born in 2011, I went to university and continued my education while raising her. By my second year, we welcomed another daughter.
At the same time, Idris’s career at the bank took off, and our financial situation became more comfortable. Our only real issue was his spending habits. loved spending lavishly, while I worried more about saving for the future.
Still, our marriage was beautiful for five years before everything changed.
What happened?
In March 2016, I got posted to another state for NYSC and left our daughters with my sister for a few weeks. Around that time, Idris had become a senior officer at the bank and frequently transported cash between villages in Kogi State.
One day, armed robbers attacked the bank vehicle transporting cash.
They shot Idris and the driver dead.
That must’ve been devastating.
I didn’t even know a human being could make the kind of sound I made when I heard. I was only 23 with two children.
For months afterwards, I couldn’t sleep because I had nightmares about how he died. I also carried a lot of anger because nobody seemed interested in getting justice for what happened.
I still don’t know how I managed to finish NYSC. My PPA supervisor practically carried me through that period.
I’m sorry. How were you able to move on?
It was a very difficult period, but I got retained at my PPA and relocated permanently with my daughters.
Then, in in 2018, I got a job at a bank. I threw myself into work and focused entirely on raising my daughters. I wasn’t thinking about love again until I ran into Muktar*.
Tell me about Muktar.
He was four classes ahead of me in secondary school, and we grew up in the same neighbourhood. Early in 2020, he walked into the banking hall where I worked and recognised me immediately. By then, he was already a military officer.
At first, I wasn’t interested in anything romantic. I even told him about my late husband and my two daughters, hoping to scare him off.
Instead, he told me he’d also lost the woman he intended to marry and was raising their daughter alone.
Did you eventually give him a chance?
Gradually, yes.
During the pandemic, Muktar became a constant figure in my life. He’d help me with little things like taking my car to the mechanic. His daughter became close to my girls, and I’d sometimes babysit her too. Slowly, my feelings changed, even though I still carried a lot of guilt about moving on.
He eventually proposed in 2022. I hesitated for a long time, but blending our families already felt natural then, so I agreed. We got married when I was 29.
What was that second marriage like?
It was also good. Muktar loved me and treated my children very well. Most people didn’t even know we were a blended family unless we told them.
But unlike Idris, he had habits I struggled with. Military culture influenced him a lot. He drank heavily sometimes, and some moments made me suspicious of infidelity.
How so?
One day, I found condoms in his bag. He claimed officers received them during a party and insisted he’d never used them, but that suspicion never fully left my mind.
Then I got pregnant in 2023, and history repeated itself.
Muktar travelled for a military operation and had been away for about three weeks. One evening, military officers arrived at our house without him.
The moment I saw them, I knew. They told me he’d been shot during an operation and died alongside several soldiers.
I fainted on the spot. I don’t remember much from that period because grief completely blanked out my mind. My mother had to move in because I lost myself mentally.
I somehow carried the pregnancy to term, but after giving birth, I sank into depression. Some days, I couldn’t even bring myself to hold my son because he reminded me too much of his father.
That’s heartbreaking.
The worst part was when people started talking. Nobody confronted me directly, but I heard rumours that I must be spiritually cursed because both my husbands died in similar ways.
There are moments I believe it myself, because how else can you even explain something like that?
I’m sorry. How did you cope alone with four kids?
Thankfully, I used Mukthar’s compensation money wisely. I started a food business alongside my banking job, and that’s what has helped me survive till today. My mother also lives with me now and helps with the children.
Great. How has your love life been since then?
Right now, my focus is on raising my children and providing them with a comfortable life.
Although I met someone last year, and we had a brief physical relationship. I never took him seriously because he wasn’t emotionally supportive and would even ask me for money despite knowing I had four children. That turned me off, so I ended things.
Since then, I’ve stayed away from relationships entirely. My mum keeps hinting that I should try again since I’m still young, but I don’t think I can ever get married again. That chapter of my life is closed.
I understand. How have your experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?
I entered marriage very young and naive. Idris was a wonderful husband, and I’ll never regret loving him, but I understand my parents’ anger now. If my daughter got involved with a much older man at 18, I’d be upset too. I wouldn’t advise it for everyone.
I’ve also learnt that no matter how painful life gets, life goes on. Both times my husbands died, I genuinely thought my world had ended. But heartbreak doesn’t kill you.
Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1-10
8/10. Being single isn’t terrible. I’ve gotten used to it, and there’s peace in it.
At the same time, raising four children alone is both financially and emotionally exhausting. Some days I feel completely burnt out. But I’m grateful for where I am now. I survived things I once thought would destroy me.
Nigeria is in a water crisis. Millions of people, in cities and rural areas, cannot access clean water or basic sanitation. Children are dying from cholera. Young girls are missing school to walk miles for water that may still make them sick. The government has, for decades, made promises it has not kept. And yet, quietly, in communities across the country, young Nigerians have been refusing to wait.
Every year, on the 25th of May, the African Union (AU) celebrates the diversity of the continent through the Africa Day commemoration. The celebration is also always accompanied by accountability and reflections regarding the welfare of the continent.
This year, the African Union wants its member states to focus on Assuring Sustainable Water Availability and Safe Sanitation Systems to Achieve the Goals of Agenda 2063. It is an ambitious theme for a continent where millions still cannot access the most basic of things. In Nigeria, the distance between that continental vision and daily reality is disappointing.
According to the 2021 WASH NORM report carried out by the Federal Ministry of Water Resources (FMWR) and the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS), “90% of approximately two hundred and forty million Nigerians lack access to basic water, sanitation and hygiene services.”
This lack of basic WASH resources bears dire consequences for Nigerians, who can’t afford to escape it. In June 2025, for instance, Nigeria recorded 3,109 cases of cholera and 86 deaths across 34 states, making it the second-worst-affected country in West and Central Africa, according to UNICEF.
Behind these numbers is a person with a life, a plan, a future, and a government that has, for decades, failed to deliver the most basic of things.
But this article isn’t just centred on government failures. It highlights six Nigerians who decided to step in when the government failed.
Meet Elizabeth Korolo & Abdulsalam Ajara
Source: BBC
In 2023, what started off as an idea while boiling water in the kitchen ended with two 16-year-old girls inventing a Bi-thermal water distillation device built with sand, gravel, charcoal, and fibre. This device turned contaminated water into safe drinkable water for Makoko, a largely impoverished community in Lagos mainland built around a waterfront and plagued by extreme pollution and open sewage.
As residents of the Makoko community themselves, Elizabeth and Abdulsalam’s motivation, amongst other things, included the danger of going far distances to fetch water. A reality that left them and other young girls at the mercy of street urchins, and exposed them to cholera and typhoid, their community faced due to being surrounded by undrinkable water.
This invention meant that inhabitants of rural and riverine communities could access water at minimum cost using solar energy, making it economically viable. Elizabeth and Abdulsalam made history, winning the Stockholm Junior Water Prize in Nigeria and gaining global attention.
Joshua Ichor
Source: Global Citizen
“For the first time in months, we don’t have to worry about whether the water is safe. We can drink it, cook with it and trust it”, said Kwatri Mnana, a visually impaired student of the University of Jos.
Joshua Ichor made this possible. After suffering for hours waiting for people to pump water and falling severely ill with Typhoid fever, such that doctors found it terrifying to attend to him due to his peeling skin, he knew that something had to be done.
And so, he set out to build Geotek water solution, a startup centred on using smart underground sensors and a mobile app to find clean water, catch natural energy, and instantly alert people if a pump breaks.
This dream has led him to communities in northern Nigeria where he has consumable water because, according to him, if he doesn’t go there, then it’s not just insecurity that kills people, but waterborne diseases as well. A 22-year-old man decided to lend a hand in fixing his country, a decision that has seen children in underserved areas have access to clean water.
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Emeka Nelson
Source: InLand Town
Water and energy are more connected than most people think. Without power, pumps don’t run. Without pumps, boreholes sit idle. Without boreholes, communities walk miles. It is a cycle that keeps water out of reach for millions of Nigerians, and it is the cycle that Emeka Nelson decided to break.
Emeka was twelve years old when he lost a close friend to a generator fume incident. That loss sent him on an endless search for a cleaner, safer alternative. By 26, he found it: a generator that runs on water. Too good to be true, but Emeka tested this in his two-bedroom apartment in Awka, Anambra state, and it worked.
With no formal engineering education, his personal savings, chippings from friends and family and ninety-five per cent of locally sourced materials, he did what many would have termed impossible. For rural and riverine communities where water exists but power doesn’t, this kind of innovation is a lifeline. A water-powered generator means pumps can run and boreholes become viable in off-grid communities.
In 2026, with electricity and fuel as luxury goods for the average Nigerian, Emeka’s invention speaks directly to that gap and is proof that technological advancement and water security are not separate conversations.
Chibuzor Mirian Azubike
Source: The Guardian
In 2011, Chibuzor was posted to Bigi Tudun Wada, a town in Bauchi state, Nigeria, for her mandatory one-year National Youth Service Corps (NYSC). She didn’t know it at the time, but that posting would be the catalyst for helping over 6,000 people access clean and drinkable water.
At the time of her posting, Chibuzor recounts experiencing violence and unrest in Bauchi State, brought on by the 2011 presidential election that saw Goodluck Jonathan sworn in and the peak of the Boko Haram insurgency. Despite these, she decided to stay back and very quickly found out that the lack of water in the state not only increased the potential of widespread waterborne diseases, but also caused the death of many children and kept young girls out of school, due to the long distances they trekked to fetch water for their families.
By October 2011, Chibuzor had constructed the first borehole in Bigi Tudun Wada, providing potable water for a community that had lost all hope for potable water. This act was followed by many more acts of community service that earned her the name “Lady Haske,” meaning Lady of Light, and a chieftaincy title in the community.
Years later, she founded Haske Water Aid and Empowerment Foundation. An initiative that has gone on to provide clean water for over 12,000 people in rural communities across Nigeria. In a 2025 interview with Guardian News, Chibuzor says, “In many communities in Nigeria, trust for potable water has been eroded by years of broken promises and failed systems”.
Wilson Atumeyi
Source: Accountability Lab
As an 11-year-old child, Wilson and his friends knew that the only way to access water was to walk miles away to fetch water from wells dug by farmers. To scoop the water, one person in the group would have to go down into the well and pass up the pail of water to others.
As he grew older, it didn’t make any sense to him that his community, especially children, had to go through dangerous hoops to access water. So in 2019, he founded WaterWide, a non-profit that tracks government spending and international aid for water, sanitation and hygiene
Within a year, Wilson had already led an investigation in Tika town in the Federal Capital Territory (FCT), Abuja. The organisation was tipped off about the dire situation caused by a lack of water. Wilson and his team of volunteers reached out to the Chairman of the local government area council, all to no avail. Undeterred, he probed the Minister of State of the FCT while sharing the story of the community online, which garnered reactions, enough to facilitate the drilling of a borehole in the community within a week. This relentless activism allowed over 2,000 inhabitants of Tika town to have access to potable water. Today, Waterwide has gone on to win international grants that have made it possible to expand its operations and help keep track of governmental projects worth millions of Naira.
Why these efforts matter
The African Union asks its member states to ensure sustainable water availability and safe sanitation for their people. The question this Africa Day is not whether Nigeria has the vision for a water-secure future. The vision exists. The question is whether the institutions meant to carry it will finally show up or whether they will continue to leave that work to the Elizabeths, the Wilsons, the Chibuzors, who were never supposed to be doing it alone.
When citizens become the last line of defence against cholera, against darkness, against thirst, it is worth asking plainly: For how long will Citizens perform the job of the government?
We want to hear about your personal experiences that reflect how politics or public systems affect daily life in Nigeria. Share your story with us here—we’d love to hear from you!
OPay, a leading fintech company in Nigeria, has officially opened applications for the 2026 edition of its flagship scholarship programme, now called OPay Scholars, continuing its ₦1.2 billion, 10-year commitment to support education across Nigeria.
Applications for the Innovation Challenge will run from May 25 to June 14, 2026. Students in tertiary institutions across Nigeria can apply now as a team of five students via https://www.opayweb.com/innovation-challenge
Building on its strong impact in the previous year, OPay is expanding the programme to include an Innovation Challenge in partnership with Google and OPay Futures. This addition is designed to empower students with practical skills, encourage problem-solving, and prepare them for real-world opportunities.
In a first-of-its-kind initiative in Nigeria’s corporate landscape, OPay is going beyond traditional scholarship support by combining financial aid, technical skills training, innovation development, and career pathways into one programme.
The Innovation Challenge will reward outstanding ideas and solutions from students in tertiary institutions across Nigeria. To participate, applicants must apply as a team of five undergraduate students from any tertiary institution in Nigeria. Each team is expected to identify a real-life problem and present a technology-driven solution to address it. Applicants must have downloaded the Gemini App and initiated basic
prompts within Gemini. The grand prize winner will receive ₦10 million, the first runner-up will receive ₦5 million, and the second runner-up will receive ₦3 million.
Beyond the prizes, participants will benefit from a structured webinar and bootcamp. These sessions will focus on building practical skills, exposing students to industry knowledge, and preparing them for future career opportunities. Top participants will also gain access to OPay Futures for potential career opportunities with OPay and other partners.
Elizabeth Wang, Chief Commercial Officer, OPay, said:
“Education is one of the most powerful tools for change. Through our ₦1.2 billion, 10-year scholarship commitment, OPay has continued to invest in the education and future of young Nigerians. With the expansion of the programme in 2026 to include the Innovation Challenge and OPay Futures, we are going beyond financial support to equip students with practical skills, innovation opportunities, and career pathways that will help them thrive in the digital economy and create meaningful impact in their communities.”
Commenting on the programme and partnership with Google, Dotun Adekunle, Chief Operations and Technology Officer, OPay, said:
“Our partnership with Google on the Innovation Challenge strengthens the impact of the OPay Scholars Programme by giving students access to technology and tools that can help turn ideas into practical solutions. By integrating Google Gemini into the challenge, we are empowering young Nigerians to build relevant digital skills, solve real problems, and prepare for the future of innovation and work.”
Speaking of the partnership, Olumide Balogun, Director, West & East Africa, Google, said:
“The most exciting innovations in Africa will come from young people solving local problems, and our role is to make sure they have the right technology to make that happen. By embedding Gemini into the OPay Innovation Challenge, we are giving Nigeria’s sharpest students a powerful and practical tool to test, refine, and scale their ideas.”
Since its launch, the OPay Scholarship Programme has continued to grow in scale and impact, supporting hundreds of students across Nigeria. With the introduction of the Innovation Challenge and OPay Futures, OPay is reaffirming its commitment to education, innovation, and youth empowerment.
Students from tertiary institutions across Nigeria are encouraged to apply and take advantage of this opportunity. Apply now via https://www.opayweb.com/innovation-challenge
For more information, visit www.opayweb.com and follow OPay on LinkedIn, @OPay_NG on X, and @opay.ng on Instagram for updates.
About OPay
OPay was established in 2018 as a leading fintech company in Nigeria with the mission to make financial services more inclusive through technology. The company offers a wide range of payment services, including money transfers, bill payments, card services, airtime and data purchases, and merchant payments, among others. Renowned for its fast and reliable network and strong security features that protect customers’ funds, OPay is licensed by the CBN and insured by the NDIC with the same insurance coverage as commercial banks.
It’s very easy for most people to blurt out “ I need space” when everything feels overwhelming. But in most cases, they rarely mean the exact same thing.
For some, it’s a genuine request to be left alone. For others, it’s a cry for help, reassurance or simply an easier way to express overwhelm. We asked Nigerians what they actually mean when they ask for space, and their answers prove just how complicated those words can be.
“I don’t actually want to be left alone” — Ibidun*, 26
Whenever I tell someone I need space, especially someone I’m romantically involved with, I rarely ever mean it literally. It’s honestly just something I blurt out in the heat of the moment because it gives me temporary relief. Saying it makes me feel like I’ve created emotional breathing room for myself.
But the funny thing is, if the person actually leaves me alone completely, I’ll feel worse. Especially if it’s someone I really love. I’ll start overthinking immediately and wondering if they care enough to fight for me or check in on me. So when I say I need space, what I really want is gentleness and patience, not total silence. I know it sounds contradictory, but emotions are not always logical.
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“Please actually leave me alone” — Musa*, 31
When I say I need space, I mean exactly that. I want to be completely left alone until I come around on my own. I don’t want calls asking if I’m okay or messages checking up on me every few hours. In that moment, all of that feels extremely patronising to me.
The fastest way for me to regulate my emotions is solitude. I need quiet and distance to process things in my own head. My family understands this already, so they don’t take it personally anymore. But romantic partners almost always struggle with it. They think I’m shutting them out or trying to punish them, when really I’m just trying to calm myself down. It becomes exhausting because I then have to manage my emotions and reassure them simultaneously.
“I need space… but not too much space” — Bola*, 30
When I tell someone I need space, I both mean it and don’t. I know that sounds confusing, but I expect the person to be emotionally mature enough to understand the difference.
Most of the time, I don’t actually want to be abandoned or ignored for days. I just need a few minutes or a few hours to regulate myself emotionally before we continue the conversation. If you keep pressing me in that moment, I can become reactive or say things I don’t really mean.
But there’s also a limit to the space. If someone disappears completely after I ask for it, I’ll feel emotionally disconnected from them. So for me, needing space is more like asking for a moment to pause.
“I’ve stopped saying it out loud” — Ayomide*, 35
I rarely tell people directly that I need space anymore because people tend to take it badly. I’ve had friendships and relationships where simply saying those words caused fights because the other person immediately assumed I was pushing them away or trying to detach emotionally.
So now, even when I need alone time to regulate myself, I find quieter ways to do it. Sometimes I’ll just become less talkative for a while or keep to myself. I know it’s not the healthiest communication style, but it feels easier than having to explain over and over that needing space doesn’t automatically mean I love someone less.
I think many people hear “I need space” and immediately interpret it as rejection, when sometimes it’s just someone trying not to drown emotionally.
“When I say I need space, don’t actually meave me alone” — Abike*, 27
I once dated someone who would leave whenever I said I wanted to be alone. He genuinely believed he was respecting my wishes and giving me room to process my emotions.
The annoying part was that he’d return days later, acting extra caring and loving, proud of himself for ‘giving me space’. Meanwhile, I’d spend those days spiralling and feeling abandoned. I eventually had to explain that needing space didn’t actually mean ‘go away’. I just needed some time to myself.
Even then, he struggled to find a balance until we eventually broke up. Since then, I’ve learnt to explain myself better to people I date.
“I don’t expect my boyfriend to move an inch” — Derinsola*, 24
If I tell my family or friends I need space, I genuinely want them to leave me alone completely until I snap out of whatever mood I’m in. But if I tell my boyfriend I need space, he shouldn’t actually go anywhere. In fact, if he leaves me alone completely, there’ll probably be problems.
I still expect him to check on me and stay emotionally present. I just don’t want too much talking or pressure in that moment. There’s a difference.
Sometimes you want distance while still wanting reassurance that the person is there for you. I don’t think women always explain that properly, though, which is why men get confused.”
“If I ask for space, things are already bad” — Ibrahim*, 39
“When I say I need space, it’s because things have already gotten really bad emotionally. At that point, physical distance genuinely helps me calm down.
I become irritable and snappy when I’m overwhelmed, so I’d rather remove myself than lash out at people around me. Sometimes I need space for days or even weeks before I feel emotionally normal again.
When I was younger and single, I could disappear into myself for as long as I needed. But now that I have a wife and children, life doesn’t really allow that anymore. Even when I feel overwhelmed, people still need me.
So these days, I compromise. I take a few hours alone, clear my head, then force myself to return to normal life. I don’t think I fully recover sometimes, but I guess that’s part of being an adult.”
“It’s how I avoid vulnerability” — Folake*, 30
“I used to think needing space meant wanting to be left alone, but I’ve realised many people only say that because they’re uncomfortable showing vulnerability.
That was definitely true for me. Every time I told people to leave me alone, and they actually did, I ended up feeling worse.
It took a lot of intentional unlearning for me to admit that what I really wanted was comfort. I wanted somebody to hold my hand, hug me, sit beside me and remind me that I wasn’t alone.
I think many of us struggle to ask directly for emotional care because it feels embarrassing. Saying ‘I need space’ sounds stronger and more controlled than admitting your vulnerability to someone else.
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.
Oluremi Martins is the founder of Nigeria’s first hair laboratory for lab-made hair. She also owns the trademark for a fibre that is skin and scalp-safe, engineered to perform exactly like human hair. Seven years in, nobody warned her that she would need to fight for respect in every room.
This is Oluremi Martins’ story, as told to Sofiyah
The Beginning
I didn’t grow up thinking I wanted to be a CEO. I always said entrepreneurship wasn’t my cup of tea. But looking back, it was all around me. From my grandma to my dad, who always made sure contracts and jobs were happening. My mum is the same way. It was never about any one of their businesses specifically. It was the spirit of, “if you really want something, you can get it done.” I just didn’t know I’d absorbed it until much later.
I expected to take the traditional corporate path. And for a while, I did. I was head of digital marketing at a boutique agency in Lagos. But I was always curious about systems: how things work and why they work the way they do. That curiosity eventually became what changed everything.
The First Attempt
The first time I tried to start a business, it didn’t work. Hair was always the plan, because I always knew there was something in it for me, but unfortunately, I went about it the wrong way. I thought: save enough money, then start. I learned very early that money is not one of the top two or three things you actually need to begin.
So the second time, I went about it differently. I was working in digital marketing and had seen how people were picking things up on Instagram. It was the beginning of that whole vendor culture. I thought: ‘before I sell anything, I need to know people actually want this.’
I started a blog called Brown Girl NG and posted inspiration for black women around beauty and hair: Tiwa Savage, Kelly Rowland, and women in deeply rooted natural hairstyles. Stuff people were saving on Pinterest but couldn’t find anywhere to buy. I was being very strategic about what I posted, using it to validate the textured extensions I eventually wanted to sell. And then the comments came: Where can I get this?Can you source it?
Even when I knew the demand was there, I kept stalling. What if it doesn’t work? A friend finally said: If it doesn’t work, you can just make it a permanent blog. That was enough.
On a Sunday evening, we took pictures of the wigs in my compound and posted them. By the second day, someone was interested. Our first unit was ₦12,000. We were sourcing synthetic extensions from Lagos and China, and human hair from India. That’s how it all started.
“I would respond to people in the comments at 2 a.m. I was genuinely excited about this thing I had created.”
I was still at my agency job for the first six months. Growing Brown Girl NG meant work breaks, late nights, not sleeping, because I was genuinely excited about this thing I had created. I would respond to people in the comments at 2 a.m. I tested so many things: feed designs, story engagement, all of it. I worked in digital marketing, so I knew how. The energy I put in became reflective of the brand.
The community grew in a way that didn’t require too much from me. There weren’t many options for people looking for what we were selling, so they found us naturally, through hashtags or customer tags. People were just happy they’d found a brand that catered to their needs and that they could trust to actually deliver. It was just an exciting time.
Why She Walked Away
That validation is what became Natural Girl Wigs. But the more I understood the business, the more I understood its limits. It taught me everything. But it also showed me all I didn’t want.
The hair supply chain is deeply opaque. You could order from a supplier you’d trusted for years, and what arrived would be something completely different. No audit trail, no accountability. I kept asking myself: if I want to build something I actually believe in, how do I build it on a foundation I can trust?
“I believed the future of hair extensions was zero human hair. Not the bad synthetic people dismiss, but something engineered.”
I believed the future of hair extensions was zero human hair. Not the bad synthetic people dismiss, but something engineered. Something safe for skin and scalp. Something that performs like human hair because it was developed in a lab to do exactly that. So I started Texture Science Labs as an R&D company. For a whole year, that’s all it was: researching the industry and figuring out how to build this thing. What came out of it is ReXI™ Lab-Made Hair, and Regirl is the brand we sell it through.
Natural Girl Wigs was the foundation. Texture Science Labs is the bigger picture. Regirl is how that innovation reaches people. And in the middle of building all of it, for a very long time, I did not feel like a leader. I felt like I was just out here hustling.
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On Leadership
Manufacturing is a different beast from anything I’d done before. There’s no playbook for what we’re building. The industry doesn’t have one. I’d never run a manufacturing company, and I genuinely underestimated the layers involved.
The first time I actually felt like a leader was late last year. I was on vacation, and my phone had gotten bad. I couldn’t do morning standups or review content going out. And the team did brilliantly. For the first time, I thought: I can breathe. These people are more capable than I even gave them credit for.
What I know about leadership now is very different from when I started. Then, it was all ideas, mission, and philosophy. Now it’s setting the direction, building systems, hiring people smarter than me in their lanes, making the calls nobody else can make. I’m a conveyor and curator now, more than an idea person. That took a long time to accept.
Walking Into Rooms
Part of that is also knowing how to show up. When I walk into a room, I show up confident. I dress intentionally, I overprepare, and I know my numbers and my supply chain. If there’s something I don’t know, I say so clearly. I don’t perform warmth to make people comfortable enough to approach me. I’m not rude. I’m just not doing that particular emotional labour.
I also look for the women. How many there are, who they are. It tells you a lot about the DNA of that space before anyone says a word.
“I don’t perform warmth to make people comfortable enough to approach me. I’m not rude. I’m just not doing that particular emotional labour.”
I’ve had one moment that truly made me feel the weight of being a woman in business. Someone who was supposed to believe in what we were building said, casually, that “this is why they prefer dealing with men.” I didn’t react. I kept listening. But that was the moment: someone looking me in the eyes and saying that out loud. It was interesting in the way that things are when they also sting.
What They Don’t Tell You
Nobody prepared me for how hard respect would be as a Nigerian woman in business.
There’s this persistent undercurrent of not being taken seriously enough. It’s not always loud. It’s in how quickly someone responds to your requests, their body language, the assumptions people make about what you want or don’t want, simply because you’re a woman. And then you have to decide how to handle it. Do I come in firm? Do I soften this? Do I frame this as a leader, or am I being reduced to framing it as a woman? Men don’t have to do that calculation in the middle of trying to build a company.
I don’t think that’s fair. But that’s the reality, and I’m learning to factor it in.
The Real Cost
The real cost of all of this? My social life has shrunk. There’s constant self-doubt, the kind that makes you ask: Am I delusional? Am I good enough? We’ve had to invest a lot of our own money. The mental health battles are real, and I’m not going to romanticise them. Let’s just say: we are still in the trenches.
But to the next woman building something from Nigeria: good work is still the best foot you can have at any door. You don’t need permission. Women always want clarity before they start, advice before they move. I understand it. But you never really know until you do. The rest, you figure out as you go.
Whenever you wake up is your morning. Go.
The Naira Life Conference is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria. Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together. Secure your spot here.
