She Runs a ₦52 Million/Year E-commerce Business From a Shared Office in Yaba. She Still Has Anxiety About Payroll.

Her business does real revenue. She has seven staff and ships nationwide. She’s never taken a loan. And every month, around the 25th, a familiar dread sets in.

This founder is anonymous. Revenue figures and operational details have been verified with documentation. Her company and identifying details are withheld at her request.

Tell us about yourself.

I’m a woman in my early thirties. I grew up in Abuja but I’ve been in Lagos since university — I did business administration at a private university in Ogun State. After school I worked in digital marketing for about four years: first at an agency, then in-house at a logistics company. I left to start my business in 2020, which, as you can imagine, was perfect timing for everything except actually running a business.

What’s the business?

We sell premium Nigerian food products online — things like stone-free ofada rice, palm oil sourced from small producers in Delta State, dried pepper mixes, egusi, that kind of thing. But the key differentiation is quality assurance and packaging. We sell to diaspora Nigerians abroad, upscale households in Lagos and Abuja, and increasingly to restaurants and food brands that want traceable, quality-certified local ingredients.

We started on Instagram. Literally just me posting. No website, no logistics plan. I got an order in the first week and panicked because I didn’t know how I was going to deliver.

How did it grow?

Slowly, then very fast, then chaotically. Year one — 2020 — I did about ₦4.2 million in total revenue, working alone from home, using Sendbox for deliveries. Year two I brought in one person to help me with packing and a virtual assistant. Revenue hit ₦11 million. Year three I moved into a shared space in Yaba — Ikorodu Road area — and hired five more people. That’s when things got complicated.

Revenue grew to ₦38 million in year three. Last year — 2025 — we did ₦52 million. Our average order value is about ₦18,000. We ship 200–280 orders a week at peak.

What does the ₦52 million actually look like in your hands?

Very different from what you’d imagine. Let me break it down.

My cost of goods is about 38% of revenue — so ₦19.8 million. Logistics and packaging is another 14% — ₦7.3 million. Staff salaries across seven people, including two drivers, three packers, one social media person, and one procurement person: ₦3.1 million a month, so ₦37.2 million a year. Office rent and utilities: ₦1.8 million a year. Marketing — mostly Meta ads — about ₦2.4 million a year.

So gross profit is around ₦22.9 million. After all operating costs, net profit is somewhere between ₦7–9 million depending on the year. That’s before I pay myself.

I pay myself ₦350,000 a month. Which is ₦4.2 million a year. So after my salary, the business retains ₦3–5 million, which is my buffer and investment fund.

That seems low for yourself — a ₦52m business and you pay yourself ₦350K?

It’s very low. I know. My former salary when I left the marketing job was ₦280,000. I’ve given myself a raise but not a dramatic one. The reason is the margin pressure: if I raise my salary, I have less capital to buy inventory in bulk, which increases my unit costs, which compresses margins further.

There’s also the fear. Which I’ll talk about honestly: I am deeply afraid of the business failing. My parents don’t fully understand what I do — they think I’m some kind of trader. My partner is supportive but also has a corporate salary and is confused about why I work this hard for this number. Every ₦100,000 I extract from the business feels like a risk I’m running.

Talk to me about the payroll anxiety you mentioned.

Around the 25th of every month, I do a mental calculation. Can I make payroll on the 1st? Do I have enough in the account? Sometimes the answer is yes easily. Sometimes I’m looking at ₦900,000 in the account and I need ₦3.1 million in six days and I need to sell my way to it. I’ve never missed payroll. But the anxiety doesn’t reduce even when the numbers are comfortable.

I think it’s because I know what it would feel like to be on the other side. I have employees who are sole breadwinners. One of my drivers sends money to Imo State every month. Missing his salary would affect about five people I’ll never meet. That weight doesn’t go away.

Have you ever come close to the edge?

Yes. In 2023, we had a logistics partner collapse on us — they were holding about ₦1.2 million of our parcels and essentially went dark. We never got the goods back or the money. That, combined with a bad palm oil season that drove up my procurement costs by 22%, meant I had my worst quarter ever. I was operating at a loss for two months. I paid staff from the retained earnings buffer and essentially paid myself nothing for eight weeks.

I didn’t tell my team. I didn’t tell my partner until after. I just kept moving. I don’t know if that was strength or denial.

What would you tell someone thinking about starting an e-commerce business?

That unit economics are life. Before you scale, understand exactly what you make on one transaction — after packaging, delivery, payment processing fees, and your time. I didn’t do this rigorously enough early on. I knew I was profitable on gut but I didn’t know by how much. When pressure hit, I didn’t have the data to make fast decisions.

Also: cash flow is not the same as profit. You can be profitable and broke at the same time. I am living proof.

What’s next?

I want to launch a subscription box — curated monthly deliveries of premium Nigerian ingredients, pre-paid. That changes my cash flow situation dramatically: I collect money before I source product. I’ve been sitting on this idea for two years because I’m scared to over-extend. But I think 2026 is the year.

I also want to raise my salary. ₦600,000 a month. I’ve earned it.

Are you an African founder or professional with a financial story to tell — anonymously? Submit your #StartupLife profile at betar.africa/startuplife. We verify core figures and protect your identity completely.