If you’re just starting out as a vendor, content creator, or in any new venture…

Let me share a bit of my own story from when I launched the Katebu brand. I want to talk to you this morning about persistence and the journey ahead.

Trust me, there will come a day when you’ll look back and smile—if you don’t let anyone or anything push you into giving up.

When I first started, there were stretches of up to two weeks with zero inquiries. I’m talking no inquiries, not even a single sale. And remember, sales come from inquiries, so you can imagine how tough it felt. Did I get tired? Yes, absolutely. Did I want to quit? Never. Because I knew I had to count "one" before I could count "two."

One of the hardest parts? Watching more established vendors celebrating sold-out items while you wonder when it will be your turn. You’ll ask yourself, “When will I get there?” But trust me, if you stay the course, keep grinding, and stay consistent, you’ll not only get there—you’ll surpass them.

It’s okay to feel tired, discouraged, or even want to give up. But quitting is never an option, and it should never even cross your mind. What’s ahead of you is worth every bit of effort.

Wishing you all the best on your journey! Keep pushing forward.

𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐛𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞-𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟕 – 𝐄𝐥-𝐑𝐮𝐟𝐚𝐢

El-Rufai said, “Anybody that thinks it is possible for President Bola Tinubu to get re-elected is living in another country, not Nigeria. It is impossible for Bola Tinubu to get re-elected. I don’t see a pathway for him." “It is greedy and hungry politicians and those that are looking for money, contract, appointment, office that are defecting,” he added.

Full story in the comments

This is the greatest comeback story in history:

At 12, This Man witnessed his father’s murder.

Later Lost his life savings on 3 failed startups.

Bet everything on one last idea.

Today, his company is worth $3 billion.

This is the story of Tope Awotona, the Nigerian-born tech. entrepreneur, founder of Calendly

and the 3 lessons his journey teaches us about failure, resilience, and success:

At just 12 years old, young Tope witnessed his father’s murder during a carjacking in Lagos.

That moment shattered his world.

But little did he know, this tragedy would ignite a fire within him,
a drive to build something extraordinary.

After his father’s death, Tope moved to America as a teenager.

He studied computer science at the University of Georgia but found himself drawn to sales roles.

Yet, something was missing.

He wanted to create something that mattered.

So, he took the leap into entrepreneurship.

His first venture? An e-commerce site selling projectors.

It failed

His second startup? A garden tools business.

It failed too

His third attempt? A dating website.

That also crashed and burned

Each failure cost him time, money, and confidence.

But each one also taught him something invaluable:

His first failure exposed the importance of supply chain management.

His second failure showed him the value of operational efficiency.

His third failure taught him about market timing and the need for proper funding.

By 2013, Tope was out of money, out of ideas, and out of options.

But he wasn’t out of the fight.

He had one last idea, and he went all in.

Invested his entire life savings, $200,000, into a scheduling tool called Calendly .

Friends thought he was crazy.

Investors called the idea "boring" and "unscalable."

But Tope had discovered a universal pain point: the endless back-and-forth emails just to schedule a single meeting.

He knew this wasn’t just an annoyance, it was a productivity killer.

With no external funding, Tope hired Ukrainian contractors to build the first version of Calendly.

He kept it simple:

A clean interface.

Easy functionality.

One core problem solved perfectly.

And it worked.

Calendly spread like wildfire.

Freelancers loved its simplicity.
Sales teams appreciated its efficiency.
Recruiters shared it with their networks.

By 2020, Calendly was generating over $70 million in annual recurring revenue.

Then, COVID hit.

The world shifted to remote work, and virtual meetings became the norm.

Calendly became essential.

In 2021, investors who once dismissed Tope’s idea poured in $350 million.

Calendly’s valuation skyrocketed to $3 billion.

Today, Tope Awotona is worth over $1 Billion dollars become the few Nigerian-born Entrepreneurs who has crossed the billionaire line

The boy who witnessed tragedy in Lagos had built a tech empire.

But His journey revealed three profound truths about success to Us:

- Rejection is redirection

Every failed startup taught Tope something critical.
The lessons from those failures became the foundation for Calendly’s success.

- Solve real problems

Calendly didn’t chase trends, it solved a pain point Tope experienced firsthand.
The best ideas come from personal frustration.

- Constraints breed creativity

With no funding, Tope focused on simplicity.
That constraint became Calendly’s greatest strength.

Tope Awotona’s story is proof that success isn’t about avoiding failure it’s about learning from it.

So, the next time you face rejection, remember Tope Awotona’’s journey.

Your greatest comeback could be just one idea away.

#TechStories
#calendly
#tope

Africa must be respected!! 50cent just gave Davido his biggest musical gbas gbos in his IG story ….

I JUST DEY VEX THIS MORNING.

Guobadia was ordered to pay $40,000 a month in alimony, cover all costs for her to stay in their home for 36 months, and pay her legal fees. Williams also gets to keep the Rolls-Royce.
And when the house is finally sold after 36months ( 3 years ) they will share the proceeds. And he has been deported back to Naaja.

My Naija brother just loose guard for nothing . Pikin she no born for you . This baba naim yansh the most expensive kpekus for the history of Naaja. I never see a Naija man wey fall hand like this . He gained absolute Zero for the relationship- just kpekus from woman wey don born for another man...no be say she be young girl without a child oo..

If na Naaja this kind thing happen, dem go say she use jazz . Yankee women no dey do jazz .

This was just a man carried away by kpekus.

Young bro, learn oo...no loose guard or you pay dearly for it.

Regina should steer clear of this drama.

Angela and Mercy go way back—about two decades, in fact. Regina was barely out of diapers when all this started, so it’s unlikely she can grasp the depth of whatever’s simmering between these two seasoned actresses.

Mercy’s career took flight in 2004 when eight of Nollywood’s top stars—names like Omotola, Genevieve, RMD, and Jim Iyke—were temporarily blacklisted for demanding higher pay. That one-year suspension gave rising talents like Mercy Johnson, Ini Edo, and Stephanie Okereke a golden opportunity to shine. Before that, they were mostly stuck playing side characters or friends of the lead.

Adding to Mercy’s luck, Genevieve didn’t return to acting until 2006 when she starred in *Girls Cot*. By that time, Mercy had already stolen the spotlight. She wasn’t just skilled—she had the figure and on-screen charm that fit the era’s favorite roles: queens, village belles, university girls, and the dangerous beauty with secrets.

However, with more fame came more friction. Her first public altercation was in 2010 with Patience Ozokwor. Witnesses claimed Patience criticized a costume and threw subtle shade, saying she wasn’t about to wear something “Mercy-style.” Mercy heard and went off.

The following year, she reportedly butted heads with Mike Ezuruonye. She’d arrived late to a shoot, and Mike called her out on it, reminding her of the humility she once had. That didn’t sit well with Mercy, who allegedly refused to rehearse lines with him afterward.

2011 was also the year she married Prince Odianosen Okojie, even though he was still legally married to someone else at the time. That marriage added more fuel to the bad-girl image that followed her.

Soon after, Mercy made headlines again for allegedly smashing a crew member’s phone. The story goes that the young woman had been recording a romantic scene, and Mercy suspected the footage was meant for gossip blogs as “proof” of infidelity.

(Back then, I was on Mercy’s side. Nigerian gossip bloggers were wild. They made life hell for stars like Tonto, Ini, and Genevieve.)

As Mercy began having kids, she slowly withdrew from the spotlight—but her old controversies kept resurfacing. In 2019, Sonia Ogiri spoke up about how Mercy had allegedly blocked her from landing acting roles. Sonia said she even had to beg Mercy for forgiveness. But by then, Mercy had rebranded and was loved by the public, so Sonia got dragged online for daring to speak out.

In 2020, Davido dropped a cryptic but cutting comment under Eniola Badmus’ congratulatory post for Mercy and her husband’s new baby. “Wicked people… congrats though,” he wrote. When asked about it, he added, “Nothing. Just evil set of people.” Neither Mercy nor her husband addressed the remarks, though he did later deny the baby news.

Then in 2021, Mercy’s daughter, Purity, was allegedly targeted by a teacher who confessed that her grudge was with Mercy, not the child. No one ever disclosed what sparked that resentment.

Now in 2025, Mercy is visibly slimmer, and fans are beginning to question if her weight loss is really by choice. On June 3rd, Angela Okorie went live on Instagram and claimed that Mercy is seriously ill. She urged her to seek forgiveness from those she’d wronged.

Today, Regina Daniels has jumped into the fray to defend Mercy, whom she calls her godmother. She’s dragging Angela left and right online. But Angela is unmoved—she maintains her advice stands and says Mercy needs to make peace with her past.

Honestly, Regina should sit this one out.

Angela may be controversial, but she’s been around long enough to know things Regina doesn’t. It would be wiser for Regina to focus on her own journey—especially with a baby on the way (yes, Ned said so in his anniversary post)—and let the veterans handle their unresolved issues.

This isn't her fight.

The whole situation is complicated and layered, which is why those who witnessed the beginning of it all are keeping quiet and watching from the sidelines.

“The $100 million we invested in Iroko TV was a mistake. If I had another opportunity, I would not do it again.”

Jason Njoku shares his terrible, brutal experience running Iroko TV.

Let's read him:

STREAMING IN NIGERIA. DID THE MARKET WIN?

Iroko’s first funding was in August 2011; our mandate was to build a large streaming business in Nigeria.

Tiger Global believed that one of the largest growth areas would be online entertainment, and like most content, the winners would be local content in large domestic markets.

They invested $200 million in Netflix back in 2010 and then invested in IVI in Russia, YY in China, Netmovies in Brazil, and us in Nigeria.

With super-expensive data bundles and inelegant payment options (I remember waiting for Interswitch to enable us to integrate), our market took a while to mature. In most opportunities, you can be too early or too late; only in hindsight can you gauge when the best time to strike would be. iROKOtv was very early when we launched in 2011, but we were fortunate that there was a ready-made international market in the diaspora who were willing to pay and able to overcome any technical hurdles (payment/bandwidth/devices) to enable us to at least generate a sizable income.

We actually waited until 2015 (four years post-launch), building the product, securing a sizable content library, and assembling a team to attempt to take on Nigeria and Africa. Between the revenues we generated and the venture capital we raised ($35 million) over the first ten years, we easily spent $100 million trying to win.

But we weren’t winning; we weren’t really losing either. We were just there, in full survival mode, operating in the toughest conditions possible. Streaming, even domestically, is a scale game.

Africa wasn’t immune to those costs. It’s incredibly expensive across marketing, content, delivery, and product platforms. Our largest, most serious competitors were Showmax, Netflix, Amazon, and Iflix. Collectively, they easily invested $1 billion or more from 2015 to 2023.

During that period, we often had tense board meetings about why iROKOtv wasn’t succeeding; it was challenging to feel that all my hard work and dedication were constantly reduced to “you’re not doing enough”.

We have been, and remain, the most aggressive in trying to distribute content across Nigeria—deploying hundreds of manned kiosks, teams of outbound contact centre agents, creating agency networks, adjusting our product to prioritise Android downloads, and pioneering peer-to-peer file sharing.

At one point, it dawned on me, and I finally shot back in a board meeting: if iROKOtv was losing, could they point to someone who was beating us? In the startup world, that’s usually the outcome of underperformance.

You are simply being out-executed by a better-capitalised or higher-performing startup. In this case, there simply wasn’t anything anyone could point to to establish that.

So my simple assertion was that the market was winning. In 2019, we went out to fundraise; for the first time, we used a bank, Stanbic IBTP, to support that.

We were looking for $10-20 million to keep pushing into and across Africa with our outbound, agency, and kiosk models.

I believed my tales of survival would inspire the (primarily) PE investors that we were going to be the eventual winners in a brutal, long-fought civil streaming war. Instead, they all largely concluded that perhaps there was no market there, that the unit economics were simply not viable at any reasonable scale.

What they were all interested in was the ROK content, TV channels, and distribution business. It was straightforward (fewer than 30 employees), had clear revenue recognition (billion-dollar paid TV platforms – DStv, Multichoice, SKY, etc., with 3-5 year contracts in non-local currencies), and was amassing a sizable IP library funded by the same paid TV platforms. Once we separated out ROK, it was clear where the value lay in Iroko. It represented 80% of revenues and 25% of costs. EBITA margins of 35-40% were achieved without even realising it.

The outcome of that fundraise was the $25 million partial exit (Iroko sold her shares; Mrs Njoku remains a significant shareholder in the studio) to Vivendi/Canal+.

We closed in July 2019.

Before the end of 2019, we had distributed $5 million as a special dividend and were primed to take on the world.

Then COVID-19 happened. Streaming temporarily boomed in the West (our North American business tripled in subscriber growth), while Nigeria closed borders and grappled with peculiar economic principles (devaluations, FX windows, etc.).

The local market in Nigeria simply collapsed. We saw it and stubbornly decided to keep investing and doubling down until we were all tapped out, having burnt through most of the post-exit capital. To save iROKOtv, we considered crowdfunding, an AIM LSE listing (you could raise $10-30 million easily back then) with relatively little revenue but a strong narrative.

In the end, we raised $1.1 million in convertible notes, then recapped the company a year later and paid it back.

In 2023, we finally accepted there was no market for paid premium services and exited Nigeria. We haven’t processed any Naira payments there in almost two years.

As I humbly survey the wreckage of the last 15 years of streaming in Nigeria and Africa, it’s clear our (then $2k GDP per capita) was too small to support even a $5/mo product. It’s clear this wasn’t even a question of capital.

Showmax alone continues to pour tens, if not hundreds, of millions to make it work. But the global giants tapped out last year; their costs (content and marketing) were clearly unsustainably high, and their product needed to be localised to make sense and actually work; it’s just not how platforms sustainably scale.

So I wasn’t surprised when either Amazon or Netflix rolled back their considerable investments in Nigeria. $5/mo is a luxury I doubt even 250k can reliably afford in Nigeria.

You can see the impact of what GOtv and DStv are suffering at the hands of the market. It’s okay that we tried and failed. It’s okay that we accept the limitations in the domestic market we find ourselves in. Did it need $1B+ to figure this out?

Absolutely not. I believe, with my newfound knowledge, that iROKOtv could have reached the same conclusions with $5-10 million versus the $100 million+ we ended up investing.

In hindsight, streaming wasn’t the winning model for Nollywood in Nigeria. Content, channels, and distribution were.

With the economics that business had in 2018, we could have shut down iROKOtv and her $5 million/year in losses and either listed it or just had a fantastically profitable business.

But I was a believer and walked away from millions of dollars in personal liquidity to put it all in to build streaming in Africa.

My lessons were expensive, and that’s why I am so consistent in telling founders not to over-raise.

I am not surprised by the story of Obi from Kobo360; I lobbied him pre-$30m raise not to raise too much capital or later on to seek a merger with his nearest competitor whilst they were engaged in a brutal price war.

The unit economics and payment cycles were brutal, and capital wasn’t going to dramatically change the market dynamics, and it appeared that no one was really going to win that market. It’s only with deep, lived, and expensive experience that I can glance at unit economics coldly and get a feel for whether, with the usual macro turbulence, a startup has a better chance at long-term success.

Nigeria is currently a massive drag on the entire operating business of Multichoice. Their most recent H1 reports indicate.

Reminder that this is the largest pay platform in Africa, which is currently being acquired in a $2.8B deal.

President Bola Tinubu will go down in Nigeria history, democratically as the most reckless, financially wasteful, with an appetite for borrowing, yet nothing to show for it.

Tomorrow will mark 2 years he removed subsidy, the only thing Nigerians enjoyed from the government under the guise of saving and prudence.

Where the subsidy money running into trillions of Naira goes into, we don't know, all we see is opposite, which is borrowing, borrowing ,borrowing in Dollars, Pounds, Euro, Yen and very soon, he will go for Cedis.

Jagagban is steadily becoming a borrowing master.

Many people are letting emotions cloud their judgment when it comes to the recent drama surrounding Veekee James and a designer allegedly copying her work. While it’s natural to defend someone you admire, business—especially in today’s social media age—operates on strategy, not sentiment.

Here’s the truth: in fashion, smaller brands that mimic successful designers can pose a serious threat, no matter how established the original brand is. It’s not just about who came first or who is more “original.” Sometimes, the imitator uses the attention from that comparison to launch themselves into the spotlight.

That seems to be what’s happening here. The emerging designer may appear less skilled or less known, but he’s cleverly positioning himself to benefit from the controversy. He’s using Veekee’s fame as a springboard, and honestly, it’s a smart—if risky—move.

It only takes one celebrity endorsement to change everything. If a major name decides to give him a shot, and he delivers a bold, fresh design, the internet will explode. People will forget about who copied whom. Instead, they’ll say, “Wow, look what he did!” And unfortunately, Veekee could still catch criticism in the fallout.

That’s why I believe Veekee should’ve played it differently. Publicly reacting gave him the validation he needed. If she had stayed silent and let her legal team quietly handle things, he would’ve had less momentum. Instead, now he gets to be “the guy who copied Veekee”—and that alone could drive his visibility and sales.

In public relations, some individuals act like leeches. They latch onto bigger names, hoping to gain relevance by association. This designer might seem harmless now, but his entire strategy relies on the Veekee brand to boost his own.

And let’s be honest, the internet is emotional and unpredictable. The designer seems to know this—and he’s aimed his strategy squarely at a Nigerian audience that loves an underdog story. If he pulls off one standout piece for a celebrity, the same fans who supported Veekee could turn around and say, “See? He’s even better.”

Bottom line: don’t underestimate a small brand just because they look like they’re copying. Sometimes, that’s exactly the plan. In this game, staying calm, strategic, and legally smart is the best defense.

Veekee didn’t need to respond with emotion. She needed to respond with silence and strength. That alone would have disrupted his plan entirely.

For many young Nigerians who may not know, Tompolo is not just a name you hear in passing. He is one of the most powerful figures to ever emerge from the Niger Delta, and his story is far from ordinary.

Back in 2005, Tompolo joined the Niger Delta People's Volunteer Force (NDPVF), a militant group that took up arms against the Nigerian Army deep within the creeks of the Niger Delta. After gaining experience and influence, he went on to create his own formidable militia — the Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND). Tompolo didn’t just lead this group; he equipped it with weapons and ammunition, commanding thousands of fighters who launched a fierce campaign against oil companies and government forces. They successfully shut down pipelines, crippled oil production, and held control over vast swathes of the Delta’s waterways.

For years, MEND clashed with the Nigerian military, and despite repeated offensives, the army struggled to overcome them. By 2009, the government under President Umaru Musa Yar'Adua decided negotiation was wiser than war. They offered Tompolo and his fighters amnesty, bringing an uneasy peace to the region and allowing oil companies to resume operations.

The story didn’t end there. In 2016, President Muhammadu Buhari tried to revive the crackdown. He ordered Tompolo’s arrest, hoping to finally put an end to his dominance. Once again, Tompolo’s loyal fighters — popularly known as the Egbesu Boys — stood their ground. The conflict dragged on until Buhari’s government was left with little choice but to return to the negotiating table. Eventually, the federal government reinstated a multi-billion naira security contract with Tompolo — a contract that still exists today.

Beyond militancy, Tompolo holds deep cultural influence. He is the high priest and chief worshipper of the river goddess Egbesu, a spiritual figure that many in the region believe protected him throughout his battles.

Despite his reputation and wealth — he is quietly a billionaire — Tompolo remains rooted in the creeks, far from the public eye. He does not parade on social media, nor does he seek online fame. His power lies in action, not talk. When Tompolo makes a move, it’s real, not for show.

This story is public record. It is not hidden, and it speaks volumes about a man whose legacy still shapes the Niger Delta today.

Sola Akintayo is a digital content creator, strategist, and media expert with a passion for helping brands and individuals tell powerful stories that connect and convert. With over a decade of experience across social media marketing, video production, blogging, and brand consulting, Sola has carved a unique niche as one of Nigeria’s leading voices in content creation.

Her journey began with a simple blog in 2013, where she shared everyday lifestyle stories and social media tips. Today, Sola runs a thriving multimedia brand that empowers businesses to grow online using engaging content, smart strategies, and authentic storytelling. From managing viral Instagram campaigns to producing YouTube tutorials that have impacted thousands, she has helped shape the digital presence of startups, fashion labels, NGOs, and thought leaders across Africa.

Sola holds certifications in Digital Marketing, Video Storytelling, and Social Media Strategy. Beyond content creation, she speaks at workshops and conferences, mentoring the next generation of African female creators to embrace their voice and own their space online.

Her content philosophy is simple: "Create with clarity, show up with confidence, and always connect with purpose."

When she’s not creating, you’ll find her curating playlists, exploring Nigerian art galleries, or hosting her weekly Instagram Live sessions where she shares tips on growing a personal brand.

Let’s connect and create magic together.

From language to likes, short stories to screen — African storytelling knows no bounds.

Best Indigenous M-Net Original – Zi M Uzo (Proudly sponsored by Goldberg Nigeria)
Best Digital Content Creator – Iyo Prosper Adokiye
Best Short Film – Jide Jblaze Oyegbile in Brukaci (Proudly sponsored by MTN Nigeria)

Whether rooted in heritage, shaped by the internet, or told in minutes, these creators left a lasting impact.

At #AMVCA11, they proved that format doesn’t limit power.

#AMVCA