Motherhood in Nigeria is a dynamic force fueled by strength, resilience, and unwavering love. As Mother’s Day approaches, we celebrate the women who carry the weight of their families and communities, often while nurturing their dreams. From bustling market traders to ambitious entrepreneurs, Nigerian mothers are a force to be reckoned with.

However, the reality is that balancing these roles can be incredibly challenging. The daily hustle, coupled with the rising cost of living, often leaves little time or resources for personal aspirations. This is where the digital marketplace and platforms like Temu are beginning to play a significant role, not just in Nigeria but globally.

For Stephanie, a Nigerian hair and beauty influencer navigating the demands of work and motherhood, the ease of online shopping became invaluable. She discovered that purchasing baby necessities, like baby high chairs from Temu, from the comfort of her home significantly simplified her life, granting her more time to dedicate to her family and professional pursuits.

Beyond convenience, digital platforms are also fueling entrepreneurial success for women. Caterina Tarantola, a mother of three, achieved the remarkable feat of opening her translation and interpretation office in just 15 days. Her secret weapon was also Temu. Initially skeptical of online shopping, she found it to be a personal advisor, providing everything from office furniture to decor, delivered swiftly and affordably. This kind of direct access is precisely what can empower many Nigerian mothers who strive to maximise their resources and time.

Similarly, Lourdes Betancourt, who left Venezuela to start a new life in Berlin, turned to Temu when launching her hair salon. By sourcing essential supplies directly from manufacturers, she avoided costly markups and secured the tools she needed to turn her vision into reality.

Since Temu entered the Nigerian market last November, more Nigerian mothers have embraced the platform to access quality, affordable products. By shopping online instead of spending hours at physical markets, they can reclaim valuable time for their businesses, families, and personal growth.

This shift reflects a global trend as consumers worldwide seek convenience and affordability. In response, Temu has rapidly grown into one of the most visited e-commerce sites and was recognized as a top Apple-recommended app of 2024.

The digital marketplace, while still developing in a place like Nigeria, presents a significant opportunity for empowerment. The progress made thus far highlights the tremendous potential for positive impact.

This Mother’s Day, we celebrate Nigerian mothers’ strength and adaptability. Like Stephanie, Caterina, and Lourdes, they are turning challenges into opportunities—building brighter futures for themselves and their families with the support of innovative online platforms like Temu.

By Prince Charles Dickson PhD

The desert does not care for your prayers. It swallows them whole, along with your sweat, doubts, and wallet weight. Yet here we were—Nigerians in Jordan, then Israel, tracing paths carved by prophets and kings, stepping on stones smoothed by millennia of footsteps. From the Dead Sea’s buoyant bitterness to Bethlehem’s star-marked grottoes, the land thrums with sacred electricity. But as she walked, she couldn’t shake the question: What does this cost us? Not just in naira, but in soul.

You remember the chaos—Abuja’s airport buzzing with first-time pilgrims clutching rosaries and Qurans, tour guides shouting over the din, warnings about “japa temptations” mingling with sermons. For many, this was a once-in-a-lifetime escape: from potholed streets, blackouts, and the gnawing uncertainty of survival back home. Yet even here, in the shadow of Herod’s stones and Galilee’s shores, Nigeria followed us. The tour operators in Jordan haggled like Lagos market women; Israeli border guards scrutinized our green passports with weary suspicion. And beneath it all, the Gaza war hummed like a discordant hymn, a reminder that holiness and human conflict are ancient bedfellows.

Let’s talk numbers; if a single pilgrimage package costs roughly N3.5 to N5 million per person, multiply that by thousands of pilgrims annually, and Nigeria bleeds billions into foreign economies.

In Jordan, our guides grinned as they narrated Petra’s history, their pockets fattened by dollars. In Israel, the pilgrimage industry is a well-oiled machine: hotels near Nazareth charge premium rates, Dead Sea mud is packaged and sold as divine therapy, and even the Via Dolorosa has a gift shop. Meanwhile, back home, nurses strike over unpaid wages and students scratch equations into dust-choked chalkboards.

The Catholic Bishops’ recent call cuts like a knife: “Stop funding pilgrimages. Let faith pay its way.” Their logic is mercilessly practical: why should a nation drowning in debt—where 63% of citizens survive on less than $2 a day—subsidize spiritual tourism for a privileged few? The National Hajj Commission (NAHCON) and Christian Pilgrims’ Board, riddled with corruption scandals, stand as monuments to mismanagement.

Remember the 2017 scandal where officials embezzled ₦90 million meant for pilgrims’ visas? Or the 2022 Hajj airlift fiasco that stranded thousands? These boards, the bishops argue, “serve neither their adherents nor the nation.”

Yet, the allure persists. For many pilgrims, government sponsorship isn’t just a subsidy—it’s a lifeline. “I saved for ten years,” a retired teacher from Enugu told me, her eyes glistening at the Jordan River. “Without the board’s help, I’d never see Jerusalem.” Herein lies the paradox: pilgrimage is both a spiritual awakening and a symptom of systemic failure. When the state funds faith, it commodifies it—and when it withdraws, it risks severing the vulnerable from their solace.

Ah, the pilgrims themselves! Nigerians are nothing if not theatrical. There were the “Captains”—self-appointed prayer warriors who bossed others around like generals in God’s army. The Comedians, crack jokes at Caiaphas’ dungeon to ease the tension. The Holier-Than-Thous, who tsk-tsked at women’s uncovered hair while surreptitiously snapping selfies at Golgotha and the quiet ones, like the widow from Sokoto who touched the Western Wall and wept without sound.

But spirituality here is tangled with spectacle. At the Dead Sea, I watched a pastor bottle the salty water, declaring it “a weapon against household witches.” In Bethlehem, traders hawked olive-wood crosses next to “I Error! Filename not specified. Jesus” t-shirts. Is this awakening? Or is it the monetization of longing?

The bishops’ critique is not just fiscal—it’s theological. “True faith,” their statement insists, “is not measured in miles travelled but in mercy shown.” They urge a reckoning: if Nigeria redirected pilgrimage funds to healthcare, education, or infrastructure, could that itself be a sacred act? Imagine N30 billion—the approximate annual cost of state-sponsored pilgrimages—channeled into neonatal clinics or rural electrification. Would that not honor the “least of these” whom Christ called us to serve?

But the counterargument simmers: pilgrimages foster unity, they say. On that flight to Tel Aviv, I saw Muslims and Christians swap snacks and stories. A Hausa imam helped a Yoruba grandmother fasten her seatbelt. For a moment, Nigeria felt possible again. Yet this fragile camaraderie exists in a bubble—one paid for by a state that can’t fix its roads.

You asked me, “Can’t we have both—pilgrimages and progress?”* Perhaps. But not under this broken model. Here’s the radical alternative:

Decouple State and Sanctuary: Let religious groups self-organize pilgrimages, as the bishops propose. If a church or mosque can rally its flock to fund journeys, so be it—but without dipping into public coffers.

Audit the Sacred: Demand transparency from pilgrimage boards. Publish budgets, punish graft, and let pilgrims know exactly where their money goes.

Reinvest in the Here and Now: Redirect saved funds to tangible ministries—hospitals, schools, food banks—that embody “love thy neighbour” more vividly than any tour group.

On our last night in Jerusalem, I sat with a group under the stars. Nima from Plateau said quietly, “I came to feel closer to God. But I felt Him more when that waiter in Amman refilled my water…”. I urged her to tell the story—

It was the unlikeliest of sanctuaries—a crowded restaurant, humming with the chaos of clattering plates and overlapping voices. Amid the rush, a young waiter moved with a grace that transcended duty. His smile was not merely professional; it was an offering. In a world where transactions often eclipse connection, he chose to see me. I asked for three small things: hot water to refill my flask, a bowl of midnight-dark yogurt, and sugar to sweeten it—simple requests, yet specific, requiring attention in a sea of demands. He could have sighed, rolled his eyes, or deferred to the crowd. Instead, he leaned in.

His “of course” was a quiet rebellion against indifference.

The steaming flask returned, cradled like something sacred. The yogurt arrived, its darkness cradled in a bowl that gleamed like polished obsidian. The sugar, poured with care, became more than a condiment—it was a covenant.

At that moment, the noise faded. Here was a stranger who had every reason to rush, yet chose to pause. Here was proof that kindness is not a grand gesture reserved for saints, but a series of deliberate, ordinary acts: I will listen. I will try. You matter.

How much lighter the weight of our differences would be if we all carried this truth: that every interaction is a crossroads. We can choose to armour ourselves in a hurry, or we can meet one another as this young man did—with eyes that recognize a shared humanity. The systems we’ve built—borders, hierarchies, ideologies—are illusions compared to the raw, aching need we all harbor: to be treated gently, to be acknowledged.

As I stirred the sugar into the yogurt, dissolving bitterness into sweetness, I thought of all the ways we hunger. For warmth. For dignity. For the courage to ask for what we need, and the grace to honor those who ask. The world will not slow down. But in its frenzy, we can be oases for one another—pouring hot water into empty vessels, handing over sugar like a promise.

This is how we mend the fractures: not with grand declarations, but with the daily sacrament of paying attention. The waiter’s name is lost to me now, but his lesson lingers: in a universe that often feels cold and vast, we hold the power to make it intimate, one act of deliberate kindness at a time.

What if we all moved through life as he did—not merely serving, but seeing?

There it is—the heart of the matter. Spirituality isn’t stamped in a passport; it’s woven into daily acts of attention, kindness, and justice. Nigeria’s pilgrimage industry, for all its grandeur, risks reducing faith to a transactional spectacle. The bishops aren’t arguing against devotion—they’re pleading for a redefinition of what’s holy.

The desert still whispers. But maybe the miracle we need isn’t in Jordan’s rivers or Jerusalem’s tombs. Maybe it’s in the courage to stay home—to build a nation where the sacred isn’t a luxury, but a lived reality. May Nigeria win!

By Timi Olubiyi, PhD

The number of small businesses keeps growing in the formal and informal sectors of the Nigerian economy, due to the role of small businesses as the live-wire of any economy and the backbone of major developed economies the world over. Though Nigeria rely majorly on oil and revenues derived from it, from context observation the economy is largely supported by small businesses covering almost all spheres of activities including skilled and unskilled within the country, ranging from Nano, kiosk, and Micro businesses most importantly.

A visible reference usually includes the vulcanizers, corner shop owners, single retail marketers, repairers, painters, business center operators, restaurants, market women, and men in the various open markets, among others. and the formal operations such as the law firms, accounting firms, consulting, fintech, and real estate companies, and so on in the country.

The small business economic activities in Nigeria play an unrecognized but important role all across the country and can equally contribute largely to the growth of the non-oil sector, employment generation, and in the creation of more sustainable entrepreneurship if well harnessed.

For instance, the popular computer village in Ikeja, Aba Ariaria market in Abia State, Kano Kurmi Market in Kano State, and Onitsha market in Anambra State all consist of clusters of mostly nano, micro, and small businesses with huge economic engagements, however without much involvement by the government.

Arguably small business represents a large chunk of private businesses in the country and contributes to more than 50% of employment in Nigeria. Small businesses in Nigeria account for 48% of the national GDP in the last five years. They account for about 50% of industrial jobs,96% of businesses and 84% of employment in the country, and nearly 90% of the manufacturing sector, in terms of the number of enterprises according to the Nigeria Bureau of Statistics (NBS).

As it stands and relying on the Nigeria Bureau of Statistics (NBC) report shows that the total number of enterprises in Nigeria was estimated at 41.5 million, spread out across the 36 states in the country. The breakdown further shows that microenterprises constitute a high 99.8% (41.4 million) of total SMEs. The country enjoys a high presence of small businesses and this form of business predominates any other form of businesses in the country. Why is that? The simple reason that comes to mind is largely due to the many advantages small businesses present.

From a survey conducted amongst small business owners, independence is the key driver and this gives the advantage for entrepreneurs to be their own bosses and be self-reliant. This singular attribute makes the total financial gain (100%) be that of the entrepreneur or the business owner. Small business gives the operator the total business control without any form of dilution from external investors, which is a form of prestige for the operators according to the views gathered from the survey conducted.

Without doubts, this form of business is easy to set up and enjoys low or no serious regulatory requirements, unlike large enterprises. In fact, it is usually made up of 1-3 people, with even less than N100,000 initial capital outlay to operate. This form of business structure in most cases provides direct services, what do I mean? Hairdressers, fashion designers, dry-cleaners, artisans, kiosk point of sales (POS) operators, and event planners to mention a few, provide services directly to customers, and with that, they enjoy quick patronage and easy payments.

The administration of small business services is not cumbersome the problem of coordination and communication which is a major setback to the operations of large firms is therefore easily solved in small businesses. They conveniently give keen interest and personal attention to the particular requirements of their customers who in some cases willing to pay something extra for the special and urgent services rendered. Some customers are tied to these small businesses because of the exiting long relationship and personal attention they enjoy in the business.

Further to this is the decision-making and taking process, because most owners of the small businesses are the operators or managers, there is hardly any problem in the decision process. Unlike the large enterprise approval processes, decision processes and dealing with customers can take a lot of time but with small businesses, the structure is simple with less bureaucracy.

The vivid truth is those small businesses enjoy agility and flexibility because of the ease with which the businesses can transmute and transfer capital to other sectors or industries, just in case the business operators need to react quickly to opportunities. In short small businesses can dramatically change their business model to align with new opportunities, which is the prime driver of innovation and creativity.

The survey also led to the conviction that focus is another important advantage of running a small business, the focus of the operators is relatively narrow, and this appears to be a good trait. While large enterprises have to search far and wide for opportunities, small businesses tend to know exactly where they have the most competitive advantage.

Therefore, with all these attributes a well-functioning small business sector would add more value to the economic fortunes of the country, sustain livelihoods, reduce poverty by creating more job opportunities in the economy than any other sector. Furthermore, these attributes can also give small businesses a competitive edge over large corporate entities and can help shape their success.

In conclusion, the government should get more involved in the growth, development, and sustainability of small businesses within the country. The Nigerian government needs to realize and recognize that small businesses are crucial to job creation, economic diversification, innovation, poverty reduction, wealth creation, and income redistribution in their policy-making activities. If this sector is well harnessed in Nigeria it can be a huge catalyst in transforming the country economically.

On a final note,governments and financial institutions can support small businesses through funding, training programs, and business-friendly policies, including access to tax incentives, and reduced regulatory barriers because small businesses can be a great tool to reduce the increasing unemployment rate in the country. Investing in small business growth is a strategic approach that President Tinubu led government can use to achieve sustainable employment levels. Good Luck!

How may you obtain advice or further information on the article? 

Dr Timi Olubiyi is an Entrepreneurship and Business Management expert with a PhD in Business Administration from Babcock University, Nigeria. He is a prolific investment coach, adviser, author, columnist, seasoned scholar, member of the Institute of Directors, Chartered Member of the Chartered Institute for Securities and Investment (CISI), and Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) registered capital market operator. He can be reached on the Twitter handle @drtimiolubiyi and via email: drtimiolubiyi@gmail.com, for any questions, reactions, and comments. The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author- Dr Timi Olubiyi and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of others.