Brands/Products
Two Wheels, One City: my Life as a Glovo Rider in Abuja
The sun has only just risen when my phone’s alarm pierces the silence of my room in Abuja. It’s 7:00 a.m., the first of six alarms I’ve set: 7:10, 7:30, 8:00, 8:10, 8:30, to ensure I don’t sleep through my morning. I’m the kind of person who could sleep for 24 hours straight, especially when nestling in the quiet of my own space. But the rhythm of my life as a Glovo delivery rider demands otherwise. Time is money in this job, and time waits for no one. So I roll out of bed, shake off the grogginess, and prepare to claim my slot for the day: a 13-hour stretch from 10 a.m. to 11 p.m., during which I’ll drive through Abuja’s streets, delivering food and parcels to customers who place orders on the Glovo app.
My name is Christian Ogbu, and I’m a Lagosian by birth, though Abuja has been my home since late 2020. I spent my first two decades in Lagos. Like any man born to a low-income family, I had to quickly try my hand at informal trade. As an Igbo man, I took up an apprenticeship in a pharmacy. When that didn’t work out after four or five years, I returned to my father’s village in Nsukka, Enugu, where I hoped to recalibrate and find opportunities to settle. But that was short-lived. I’m not a village boy; I’m wired for movement, for the bustle of a city. So, towards the end of 2020, I left for Anambra State, where I chased work that never materialised. I didn’t want to return to Lagos, where I would have to rely on my mum. Instead, I left Anambra for Abuja, where an uncle offered me a place to stay. It was a chance to start over, to find my own “greener pasture”, as I told myself.
Abuja was unkind at first. I took a job as a security guard, arranged by my uncle, but the pay was meagre: hand-to-mouth, barely enough to keep me afloat. Frustration gnawed at me. I wasn’t raised to live in someone else’s shadow, least of all my mother’s, so I refused to return to Lagos. Instead, I struck out on my own, submitting CVs to companies, hoping for something better. My uncle’s refusal to support my job search, denying me his signature and his ID, left me feeling stranded. I was sleeping in someone’s house, but I had no one to lean on. I often took to the streets looking tattered and hungry in search of a job. That’s when I stumbled into dispatch work.
It was a chance encounter with a deliveryman that changed everything. I was hungry, looking rough, but too proud to beg for food. “I just want to work like you,” I told him. He took me to a restaurant called Ants in Mama, which, like many popular restaurants that were adjusting to pandemic restrictions, ran an in-house delivery fleet where they purchased motorcycles and placed drivers on salaries. This was where I got my first taste of food delivery. I didn’t know Abuja then, so I relied on Google Maps to navigate, my phone guiding me through unfamiliar streets. That first job was a trial by fire. The roads were unforgiving, especially where untarred paths and potholes tested my resolve. One day, I spilled a drink in my delivery box, and while rushing to replace it, I crashed into a parked motorcycle. The accident cost me my pay; the company used it to repair the bike. I was sad, but I didn’t give up.
Another courier took pity on me, leading me to somewhere I was hired again. This time, I used the work to learn Abuja’s streets. I’m quick to pick up patterns, a skill honed in Lagos, where I mastered shortcuts that others overlooked. Within months, I knew Abuja like the back of my hand. I started applying to logistics companies and landed a job with a franchise under Speedaf. In my first month, I shattered their delivery record, completing 50 to 60 orders a day when the highest before me was 20. My hard work earned me respect, even if it came with loose ends. There were moments of temptation: demanding extra cash from customers, a practice I later learned was common among delivery riders. When a customer recorded me and reported it, I faced suspension, but my manager, recognising my potential, fought to keep me.
Then I heard about Glovo. It was 2022, and the platform was different: riders worked independently, not under franchises. This means that their earnings were not capped to a monthly salary; instead, one could earn as much as they worked. I scraped together my savings, bought my own motorcycle, and signed up. A mentor told me, “Focus on this work, and you’ll see your earnings.” So I did. I left the other side hustles behind. Glovo requires that drivers book slots to confirm they are available for delivery. If a driver booked a slot, he had to be committed to it. Punctuality became my creed. If I booked a slot, I was there, no excuses. Even when thieves broke into my house, stealing my phone, which was my most important work tool, and money, I didn’t quit. I worked my way back, bought new gear, and kept going.
From scraping by to earning almost a million monthly as a Glovo rider
Glovo’s structure suited me. Unlike franchises, where you’re bound by rigid protocols, Glovo gave me freedom. I could reject deliveries to unsafe areas, like parts of Jahi or Kuje, where rough roads or security risks made riding perilous. Franchises didn’t care about rider safety. If a customer ordered to a dangerous spot, you went or face penalties. I once narrowly escaped a pit while being chased by dogs at night. With Glovo, I could say no, cancel the order, and move on. This autonomy made all the difference. I knew Abuja’s boundaries: where Glovo operated, where it didn’t, and I thrived within them. The app’s clear addresses meant I rarely needed Google Maps; I’d glance at the location, pocket my phone, and ride.
My consistency paid off. Glovo set daily targets: 25 to 30 deliveries to earn a “quest” bonus, and I hit them religiously. Other platforms, like Chowdeck or Mano, cap their targets at 10 to 15 orders a day, I think, but Glovo pushed me. It wasn’t just about the money, though I earn between ₦800,000 and ₦900,000 a month, more than most salaried jobs. After expenses, ₦36,000 for fuel, ₦5,000 for oil changes every seven days, and about ₦7,000 daily for food, I earn enough to live well. But the real reward is the peace of mind, the sense of purpose. Glovo’s challenges became my own; if I fell short of 25 deliveries, it felt like failure. The next day, I’d push harder, determined to meet the mark.
The work is gruelling: 13 hours on the road, six days a week. I take Saturdays off now, a lesson learned after my eyes started twitching from stress and too much caffeine last year. I cut out energy drinks, relying on my own stamina and the occasional biscuit or mineral water to keep me going. Breakfast is a must, but lunch is a luxury; I might not eat until I’m home, late at night, with takeaway in hand. Abuja’s cold nights demand a jumper, something Glovo doesn’t provide, so I layer up to stay warm.
The job has its highs and lows. Customers shape the experience. Some are demanding, insisting I deliver to their doorstep in estates where bikes aren’t allowed, leaving my motorcycle vulnerable to theft or tampering. Others are a joy, especially when they are foreigners, as they are often more polite and appreciative than locals. For example, foreigners who live at high-end hotels, which do not allow couriers to drive in, are often ready to meet me at the gate. “White customers,” as I call them, often stand out for their courtesy, waiting at the gate, thanking me for my effort. Nigerian customers can be hit or miss: some warm, others dismissive, a few outright rude. I once climbed to the fifth floor to deliver to a customer in a wheelchair, moved by their courteous note on the app. The word ‘please’ seems so inconsequential, but it means a lot and can influence how we respond to additional requests of customers. Respect, I’ve learned, is reciprocal. When customers treat me with dignity, I go the extra mile.
Then there are the surveys Glovo sends out, asking about our satisfaction or experiences. They’re alien to many riders, unaccustomed to forms or feedback. But I use them to learn, sometimes Googling terms or asking AI for clarity. These small moments of education, interacting with customers, navigating the app, and engaging with the world, make the job more than just deliveries. It’s exposure, a window into lives I’d never otherwise encounter.
In June 2025, Glovo recognised my efforts. At their summit in Lagos, I was awarded for delivering over 14,000 orders since joining in 2022. They called me a “punctuality champion,” a nod to my unwavering commitment to my slots. It has been a great relationship so far. I do have some crucial improvements, particularly regarding deliveries to estates and hotels where motorcycles are restricted. It would be great if the company implements a clear policy or in-app note for customers in these areas, mandating a mutual understanding with riders for doorstep deliveries. This change would not only address rider safety concerns—reducing the risk of theft from parked bikes or food tampering—but also ensure riders aren’t unfairly blamed for issues outside their control, fostering a more respectful and efficient delivery experience for everyone.
This job has been transformative, but I do believe it is still a means to an end. In five years, I don’t see myself still working as an app-based courier. I want an adventure: maybe a business. I want to settle down, marry, and build something of my own. God has blessed me through this gig work, and I believe He’ll keep opening doors.
For now, though, I’m content. Abuja is in my hands, its streets etched into my memory. And as long as I’m on my bike using Glovo to connect to customers, I’m not just delivering food; I’m delivering myself to a future I’m still building.
By Modupe Gbadeyanka
A new social entertainment platform designed to redefine how people participate in the digital economy by rewarding users for watching, streaming, and creating content has been launched by Starbase Technologies.
The platform, Yolly, features a rich spectrum of content spanning entertainment, sports, lifestyle, education, technology and live events.
The initiative introduces a new approach to online participation by recognising that everyone who contributes to the internet deserves the opportunity to share in the value they help create.
Designed for today’s upwardly-mobile creator economy, the platform enables viewers, creators and brands to participate in a trusted digital ecosystem where meaningful engagement is recognised and rewarded.
Yolly was launched to create value for every participant in its ecosystem through Stars, its native digital rewards currency, which users accumulate through meaningful participation across watching, streaming and creating content.
Unlike conventional social platforms, where monetisation is often reserved for creators with established audiences, Yolly enables creators to earn from their very first stream, removing follower thresholds and equipping emerging talent with features such as gifting, Boosts from day one and the Founder Creator badge to help them grow their communities.
Viewers, meanwhile, can earn Stars simply by watching the content they love, with rewards available from their very first session, under the watch+ category.
For brands, Yolly replaces impression-based advertising with a transparent model built on verified, engaged attention. Supported by per-minute performance metrics, real-time dashboards and brand-safe controls, the platform enables businesses to measure engagement more accurately while connecting with audiences in a trusted digital environment.
The Head of Business for Yolly, Mr Emeka Okenwa, said the platform’s rewards economy has been designed to prioritise wholesome content over viral moments while creating meaningful opportunities for everyone who contributes to the digital ecosystem.
“The platform has been developed on the premise that the future of the creator economy should be more inclusive, more rewarding, and built around genuine communities rather than algorithms alone,” he added.
Mr Okenwa noted that Yolly was built on the principle that social platforms should encourage wholesome, family-oriented content while giving viewers, creators and brands a safe environment to connect, create and grow.
A friend of mine runs a small online shop that sells handmade ceramics. Like many independent sellers, she does almost everything herself. She makes the products, photographs them and packs every order.
Hiring the professional photographer has never really fit her budget. So, she relies on her phone for product photography.
Her shop had been running smoothly, but the momentum behind sales seemed to have slowed. She wasn’t getting negative feedback, yet she felt more people were visiting the site than actually buying. She assumed pricing or competition was the problem, and asked me to take a look.
After spending some time browsing her store, one thing stood out right away.
Products themselves looked beautiful—the photos didn’t do them justice.
Some images appeared slightly soft, while others had a warm yellow tint from indoor lighting. A few close-up shots didn’t capture the texture of the glaze that made each piece unique.
Once I pointed it out, she admitted she had noticed the same issues but didn’t think they mattered much.
Her view was simple: if the product was good, customers would see that eventually. But that is actually not true.
Why product visuals matter more than most sellers expect
When customers shop online, product photography carries most of the weight.
Shoppers typically decide in seconds whether to stay on a page or move on. The images that appear flat, inconsistent, or poorly lit can undermine trust in the entire store, regardless of how strong the actual products are.
Professional brands put a lot of money into product photography, and editing to keep every image looking consistent. Most independent sellers don’t have those resources. So, they depend on a phone camera, available daylight, and a simple home setup.
This was exactly the situation with my friend’s products. They looked great in real life, but put next to other products, her photos made them look like low-quality items.
Testing a different approach
Instead of reshooting everything, she started with what was already live on her site.
She picked a few product images that represented her main listings. Two were ceramic mugs taken on a cloudy day near a window. Lighting in these shots was flat, and the colors were greyish. The glazing, which appeared richer in reality, was somewhat less vivid in the photographs.
Another image was a bowl shot under warm kitchen lighting. That one had the opposite issue. The tone shifted too yellow, which made the white glaze look closer to cream instead of neutral white.
She ran the mug photos through Wink’s AI image enhancer to see if they could be improved without changing the actual product or reshooting anything.
There were no dramatic differences in a flashy way, but we noticed a change when the two were compared. There was an improvement in the balance of colors, and the grey tone decreased.
The surface texture of the glaze also became easier to see, which mattered because that texture is part of what makes handmade ceramics appealing.
The other bowl photo improved in a similar way.
The warm cast pulled back toward something neutral. Small details that were slightly lost before became easier to notice.
We first came across Wink while looking for simple tools that could help my friend improve the photos on her ceramic store without needing a full reshoot. The early results were good enough that she decided to update more of her product catalog.
A simple workflow that worked for her
Comparing the outcome of her efforts, she did not want to overthink things. She concentrated on the items which had the most clicks instead of trying to edit everything else.
First, she worked on the main pictures making the colors accurate without making anything blurry or dark because of improper lighting. Next, she improved several short videos in order for customers to see how the glaze looked.
Before replacing the images on her store, she compared the updated versions with the originals on both her phone and laptop. The changes were subtle, but the product pages felt much more consistent.
The biggest benefit wasn’t that the products suddenly looked different.
They looked more like they did in real life.
The handmade details were easier to see, the colors felt more accurate, and the overall presentation gave the store a more polished appearance. She also avoided spending another weekend photographing products she’d already shot once.
Who should actually try this
- Etsy and Shopify sellers: If you take your own photos, this is the quickest upgrade you can make. Product pages look better. Ads look better. Social posts look better.
- Dropshippers and POD brands: Supplier photos are often low-res or inconsistent. Clean them before use. Your store will look more original.
- Marketers running UGC ads: Creator videos are gold, but often noisy or soft. Quick cleanup makes them ad-ready without a re-shoot.
- Makers with archives: Have 2020 product photos that still get traffic? Enhance them instead of re-shooting discontinued SKUs. This isn’t for luxury brands with art directors. It’s for the rest of us.
The takeaway for small brands
Buyers don’t read first. They look.
If your visuals are blurry, dark, or inconsistent, you lose sales before the description loads. You don’t need a studio. You need your current assets to be clear.
Wink makes that practical. It took my “amateur” mug photo and made it professional enough to sell. No new gear. No learning curve.
Test it on your worst product image. For a small business without a studio or a large budget, that’s a practical improvement worth making.
Nobody in Nigeria runs just one hustle. There’s the job that pays the bills, the small business that’s meant to be your way out, and a phone that never stops buzzing with “I’m interested, how much?” You’re the founder, the customer service, the person who chases the dispatch rider and the accountant, all before lunch. The dream is still there. It’s just buried under 47 unread messages and a spreadsheet you’ve been avoiding since March.
You don’t have to keep doing all of this by hand. AI has become the kind of co-founder most of us could never afford to hire, and Gemini can take the boring, heavy work off your plate so you can spend your time on the part that matters, building something people actually want to buy. You don’t need funding to start. Here are five ways to put it to work.
1. Take your idea from a dream to a business plan.
Starting a business often begins with a single idea, but managing the messy explosion of thoughts that follows can be tough. Instead of scattering your notes across different places, brain dump your idea into a notebook in the Gemini app. Process your thoughts out loud, then add links, files, and other reference materials. Gemini will structure your vision, creating a central command centre that grows alongside your business.
As your side hustle grows, graduate to business notebooks — a centralised hub to organise workflows and chats alongside your website and Google Business Profile. Grounded in your context, Gemini proactively surfaces critical action items, like unanswered customer questions, and recommends tailored updates to keep you ahead.
2. Research the Nigerian market in minutes.
Don’t just guess, know your audience. Use Gemini to generate reports on competitors in your specific city or industry. Gemini’s Deep Research feature compresses hours of work into minutes. (Think of it like a personal research assistant.) Ask it to generate a report on your competitors or markets you can target. It can browse hundreds of sources, track down facts and synthesise emerging trends, giving you professional analysis in a snap.
3. Define your brand aesthetic.
Nigerian Gen Zs are redefining success through creativity, and Gemini is the perfect partner to build a standout brand on any budget. Drop your products into high-end backdrops, craft eye-catching typography, or make your own cinematic video ads. You’ll have consistent, professional-grade visuals for web pages and social posts in seconds.
Connect apps like Canva to use the assets you made in Gemini in creative layouts or social drafts without switching workspaces. You can also use Pomelli from Google Labs to build your core Business DNA, and use this to create a comprehensive brand book or stand up a complete website in just a few clicks.
4. Put your logistics on autopilot.
Managing a side gig while studying or working full-time is a struggle. Use Gemini Spark to act as your personal AI agent that runs 24/7. You can set instructions like: “Whenever I get a WhatsApp or email inquiry about my services, extract the client’s details and store them in my tracker.” It handles the heavy lifting so you can focus on making sales.
Gemini Spark acts as your personal AI agent that runs in the background 24/7 — even when your laptop and phone are turned off. Instead of logging data manually, you can connect your tools and apps and let Spark handle the heavy lifting. For example, you can set an ongoing instruction, like: “Whenever I get an email asking about my services, automatically extract the client’s details, store them in my ‘Client Tracker’ Google Sheet, and create a new dedicated folder for them in Google Drive.”
Gemini Spark is available to Google AI Ultra subscribers globally.
5. Know when your price is right.
With fluctuating costs, pricing correctly is survival. Input your material costs, delivery fees, and platform charges into Gemini to find your break-even point. It can help you model different tiers to see how to maintain your bottom line while staying attractive to your local customers.
Once your business is up and running, you can transform your decisions by grounding them in real data. Just upload your spreadsheets to Gemini to uncover hidden trends, generate personalised recommendations, and build a custom, interactive tool that helps you visualise the impact of potential decisions on your bottom line.
