Gender-based violence (GBV) is not just a serious and pervasive issue that affects people across all demographics in Nigeria; it also hinders societal progress.

You probably already know this, but GBV includes a wide range of harmful behaviours directed at people based on their gender. But while all genders are affected by this issue, women and girls suffer it the most.

Every now and again in Nigeria, reports of different forms of GBV, like rape, domestic abuse, femicide, and many more, make the news, and each time, we ask what can be done to stop this— the answer to that question is not a straight one, as deep fundamental societal issues and norms cause GBV but there is a major solution that can be used to reduce the prevalence of GBV— the law.

How to fight GBV with the VAPP Act

Even though there are several laws in place to combat Gender-based violence in Nigeria, this crime has remained a huge issue in the country, mostly because many victims do not understand the legal frameworks available for combatting it.

This article provides a guide to clear, actionable information about legal avenues available to victims of GBV in Nigeria; this guide will help lead victims to healing and justice.

Violence Against Persons Prohibition (VAPP) Act: The VAPP Act, enacted in 2015, is at the heart of Nigeria’s legal response to Gender-based violence. This landmark legislation represents significant progress in protecting individuals from various forms of violence, particularly women and girls.

What are the key provisions of the VAPP Act? 

1. Comprehensive Definitions: The VAPP Act defines various forms of violence, including physical, sexual, psychological, and economic abuse. This broad definition ensures that multiple forms of GBV are recognised and addressed.
2. Penalties for Offenders: Offenders face severe penalties, including imprisonment ranging from two years to life, depending on the nature of the crime. This serves as a deterrent against GBV.
3. Victim Protections: The Act guarantees confidentiality for victims and protects their identities throughout their legal proceedings. This encourages more victims to come forward without fear of stigma or retaliation.
4. Access to Legal Representation: Victims can seek legal aid to navigate the complexities of the legal system, ensuring they have support during what is typically an overwhelming process.
5. Protection Orders: This is a special legal tool in the VAPP Act designed to prevent further violence against victims. This order can be used to prohibit an abuser from contacting or approaching the victim. Section 28(1) of the Act allows victims to apply for protection orders that are effective throughout the country. Additionally, the Protection Against Domestic Violence Law (PADVL) in Lagos State provides further provisions for individuals in domestic relationships to seek such orders. 

Step-by-step guide to reporting GBV

Reporting GBV is a crucial step in seeking justice and holding offenders accountable. Here’s how this can be done effectively:

Gather Evidence 

Preserving evidence is crucial for constructing a compelling case against an offender. The types of evidence that can be collected include:

1. Medical Reports: Obtain medical documentation that records any injuries sustained.
2. Photographs: Capture images that clearly show visible harm.
3. Eyewitness Accounts: Gather testimonies from individuals who witnessed the incidents, as their accounts can corroborate your story.

Reporting 

Victims can report incidents at local police stations, NGOs specialising in GBV support, or through dedicated hotlines established for immediate assistance. These hotlines include: 

1. International federation of women lawyers (FIDA) –  2347088496115

2. The Mirabel center – 08155770000, 08187243468, 07013491769

3. Women at Risk International Federation (WARIF) – 08092100009, 08092100008

4. Lagos DSVA – +2349167802222

When reporting, it is important to include details such as dates, locations, descriptions of the incident, and any witnesses who may have seen or heard what happened.

Legal Processes involved in the fight against GBV

The journey through the legal system can be daunting, but understanding each stage can help manage expectations:

1. Investigation

Once a report is made, law enforcement will gather evidence through interviews with witnesses and forensic analysis if necessary. Legal advisors play a crucial role in ensuring that victims’ rights are upheld during this phase. During this process, victims have certain rights, including the right to be treated with respect and dignity by law enforcement officials and the right to be duly informed about their case’s progress and any developments during investigations.

2. Prosecution

Once sufficient evidence is collected, charges are filed in court. Victims retain rights throughout the trial process; they should feel safe and supported while testifying and to ensure their comfort and safety, the court may implement measures such as closed hearings or allowing testimony via video link if there are concerns about intimidation.

3. Judgment

The outcomes may vary from conviction to acquittal based on the evidence presented. For example, if the accused is found guilty, appropriate sentencing measures may include restitution for victims—financial compensation for damages suffered due to violence.

The case timeline varies, but staying informed and persistent ensures better outcomes.

Profiles of Some Organizations Offering Pro Bono (free) Legal Support

1. International Federation of Women Lawyers (FIDA) in Nigeria: Offers legal representation and advocacy for women’s rights while providing education on legal rights
2. Women Impact Nigeria (WIN): Committed to combating social injustice and violence against women and girls through a comprehensive legal aid system.  
3. Mirabel Centre: Specializes in providing medical care and legal assistance specifically for survivors of sexual violence. 
4. LEEDAP: Provides free legal representation to poor and vulnerable victims of human rights violations.
5. Project Alert: Focuses on raising awareness about GBV while offering support services such as counselling and legal aid. 

These organisations play a crucial role in empowering victims by providing essential resources and support networks tailored specifically for those affected by GBV.

In addition to the VAPP Act, other relevant laws include the Criminal Code, Penal Code, and Child Rights Act. These laws collectively address various forms of violence and discrimination. For example, the Criminal Code outlines offences related to sexual violence, while the Child Rights Act provides specific protections for minors.

These laws operate at both federal and state levels, with some states, like Lagos and Ekiti, implementing additional gender-based violence laws that complement the VAPP Act. Understanding how these laws interact is essential for effectively navigating the legal landscape.

Gender-based violence is a grave issue, but victims are not powerless. Armed with knowledge of their rights and Nigeria’s legal framework, survivors can hold perpetrators accountable and begin their journey to healing. With the support of dedicated organisations and advocates, the path to justice becomes clearer and more attainable.

You are not alone. Seek justice, find support, and break the cycle of violence.

This article was written by the We Believe You Initiative.

To quote Aretha Franklin, there were great and beautiful gowns this year. There were also many terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad gowns. Let’s talk about all of them. 

Looks like an Igbo Batman villain.

I love that Elozonam clearly went into the studio to photograph his outfit but got so lost in the magic of greenscreen that the photoshoot ended with him inadvertently joining the Greek god Pantheon. 

You know when you leave potatoes in a warm space for a while and you come back to find them growing terrifying roots because the room’s temperature has tricked them into thinking it’s spring (i.e. time to sprout)? That’s what this dress reminds me of.

I don’t agree with the sleeves of this dress. You can tell the designer thought the initial look was too simple and decided to spice things up by adding so many flowers that whoever wears it automatically becomes the May Queen of a violent cult in rural Sweden. 

This suit is serving Mafia but make it Igbo. I feel like he’s about to whip out a shotgun from that enormous jacket and shoot me in the face for not refilling his snuff-box on time. I respect it. 

Many exotic birds and pairs of jeans died to make this look, and that doesn’t sit right with me. Also, I love that the concept of product placement has evolved to the point where brands demand that people become walking advertisements. 

Obsessed with the fact that Toke looked at this dress and said, “You know what this really needs to pop? A hat for my left boob.” You better werk, bitch.

Tacha took Toke’s concept a step further and gave her right boob its own corset. There’s a member of the Hunger Games costume design team wishing they came up with this first. Can you imagine Effie stepping out in this insane number to conduct the District 12 reaping?

I’m gagged because this is the best I’ve ever seen Lekan look. I’m also gagged because this makes him look like the end result of a forbidden but steamy sexual relationship between the Monopoly Man and the Pringles mascot. 

Many people think this outfit is giving Poison Ivy (and I kinda see how). However, somewhere in the execution stage, it quickly and unexpectedly started giving Grinch Couture and the designer just went with it because they were out of time. 

Phantom of the Opera.

I have nothing to say about this dress. I’m just here to point out that she always stands like Wonder Woman on red carpets, and I think it’s funny as hell. Maybe it’s the corsets. Maybe it’s the one-sided rivalry. 

I don’t know if it’s the makeup or the way the photo is edited but she looks like a Wallace and Gromit character. Mama, the makeup is giving claymation. It’s making her look like a high-quality muppet. I’m so scared.

Biblically Accurate AMVCA Guest.

I’ve always maintained that Dr Rommulus looks like a mischievous cartoon snake. Something about the way he looks makes my mind disagree with his existence. My mind also disagrees that that’s his actual shoe size. He looks like if a clown stepped into the Matrix. 

Someone said this look is a commentary on the current price of a bag of rice. I’m holding onto this explanation as the truth because I’ll start spiralling over what’s going on here if I don’t. 

RELATED: The AMVCA10 Red Carpet Looks Ranked From Ate to Crumbs

As you know, Nigerians spice up every fashion event, and there were not enough Nigerians on the red carpet this year. The Museum should rectify that next year and for their list, here are 10 Nigerians we think should be invited to next year’s MET Gala. 

1. Tiannah’s Empire

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A post shared by Tiannah Styling (@tiannahsplacempire)

Look at the material and say that she won’t kill any theme the museum puts out. Tiannah is known for her out of pocket fashion styles, and she will not be out of place on the steps of New York’s prestigious art gallery.

2. Swanky Jerry

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A post shared by Jeremiah Ogbodo (@swankyjerry)

No Swanky, no what? No styling. Swanky Jerry would bring the swag and all the elegance to the MET and we need Swanky to style up the steps of the MET Gala for all our sakes. 

3. Priscilla Ojo

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A post shared by Priscilla Ajoke Ojo (@its.priscy)

Our favourite nepo baby Priscilla Ojo is coming into her own as a fashion icon and influencer. Nothing drives home this point like her Bridgerton look: the hair, the clothes, the makeup, everything a 10 out of 10. Diamond of the Season and we love her!

4. Kim Oprah

Still on the Bridgerton wave, Lady Danbury needs to come out because there’s competition for her crown. Kim Oprah dazzled us with her look, she might be coming for the Diamond title and we’re tuned in. Apologies Lady Kim, we were not familiar with your game and the MET needs to get familiar.

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A post shared by Kim “Chinonso” Opara (@kimoprah)

5. Ayra Starr

Who else if not 21 and Dangerous? We’re excited to see Ayra transform her mini skirts into a MET Gala worthy look. And we think it’ll be truly a sight to behold.

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A post shared by Celestial being (@ayrastarr)

6. Tems

She’s been to the Oscars, the Grammys, and the BET awards. One last stop at the MET, and it’ll be the last feather in her fashion crown. Someone tell the MET to call Temilade, she has something for them.

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A post shared by TEMS (@temsbaby)

7. Rema

Remy boy might seem like he’s only into high street fashion and urban wear but the MET should give him a chance and an invite. They should trust me, he won’t disappoint. 

8. Mowalola

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A post shared by Mowalola (@mowalola)

Is she a designer? Yes. Does she also deserve an invitation? Absolutely. Mowalola and her crew would absolutely devour the red carpet, the theme, and the paparazzi. 

Remember, Zikoko is always here to help you figure these things. Here are twenty ways to determine if there’d be a second date or not.

Will your family do a press release if we want to marry?

Who do you support in the rap beef? Do you see yourself as a J Cole, Kendrick or Drake?

Have you heard Flavour and Odumeje’s Powers? What do you think?

What’s your star sign?

Do you work in tech or finance?

Do you think at any point in time, God will call you? And if he calls, will you pick?

Do you usually do couple content on TikTok?

Can any of your secondary school juniors come out to drag you for bullying?

You go back in time and can only change one thing, what would you change?

What band is your house in?

How good are you at writing diss tracks?

Can you be called an influencer by any standards?

What’s the most useless superpower you can imagine?

You can only listen to one song for the rest of your life, which song is it?

Dinner with Dangote or dinner with Don Jazzy?

What would be your job if money wasn’t an issue?

What job did you want to do when you were a child?

Who would win, Percy Jackson or Harry Potter?

How would you spend Abacha’s loot?

If your life was a reality show, what would the name be?

Do you have a family member who owns a filling station or oil company?

Do you have plans for Canada or Amsterdam? Will your significant other be inside those plans?

After becoming a household name in Nigerian primetime TV — working on hit shows like “Battleground” and “Enakhe”, and earning AMVCA nominations for MTV “Shuga” Naija and “Slum King” — she has gone on to cement her name as one of the indie filmmakers to watch in Nollywood with four short films, “Omozi”, “Ijo”, “Yasmeen” and “Why Am I Angry”. From Canada to Sweden to Ghana, her films have won awards and screened at international film festivals, including Africa International Film Festival (AFRIFF), the biggest on the continent. 

In 2024, she took things up a notch, writing and executive producing her first feature film, “Alli Eid Dinner”, which aired on Africa Magic on March 10, 2024, right at the cusp of Ramadan. Starring Wendy Lawal-Simpson, Abdul Tijani-Ahmed, Temiloluwa Fosudo and Wunmi ‘Tuase, the full-length film is Fatimah’s take on Eid holiday traditions, something we rarely see on our screens.

We spoke with FBG as she shared the story behind the film and why it was important to share an Eid story reflecting values of love and family everyone can relate to. 

What’s “Alli Eid Dinner” about?

It’s about a woman who desperately wants to bring her family together for a late Eid dinner, but things go left because everyone arrives with secrets, and she’s unable to control the night. 

How did the story come to life?

I don’t have personal experience with secrets at Eid dinners, but we all hear stories about different family gatherings. I’ve always wanted to tell an Eid story, especially after watching “How to Ruin Christmas” and “A Naija Christmas”. Those two films triggered the need even more. 

I had an old story about a woman getting remarried in her 50s, and I found a way to rework it when I was asked to submit pitches to Africa Magic. Luckily, it got selected, and I developed and co-wrote it with Owumi Ugbeye.

Why was it important to fill the Eid holiday film gap in Nollywood? 

The two Eids are very important in Nigeria. It’s the famous “Which one is the ram holiday?” It’s relatable, normal and very us. Yet, we’re stuck with weddings and funeral stories when there’s room to expand. I recently tweeted about coming for Christmas, more Eid stories, the New Yam festival, and so much more. 

What was your favourite part of writing and producing the story?  

Putting the project together was fun. It took an amazing village of people. It was a beautiful collaboration between every member of the cast and crew. I enjoyed the casting process and I really enjoyed my days on the set. It was a short time; we filmed from Sunday to Friday. Every day was memorable because it felt like working with friends.

The outfits in the film were stunning, with the vibrant colours. How did you choose the looks? 

I give all that credit to the wardrobe team. Mary Bukky Oyinlola, the costume designer, and her people came through for us. I shared a mood board, and the wardrobe team delivered better than I’d imagined.

As an indie filmmaker, what was a difficult moment when filming this project?

“Alli Eid Dinner” is not an indie project, thankfully. Africa Magic commissioned it. However, the most difficult moment on set was losing footage of the main dinner. The morning after filming our dinner scene, the post-production supervisor called me to the side and explained that we had accidentally lost footage. 

See, I’m awful in stressful situations because I become dismissive when there are no solutions. I don’t like complaining or nagging, just bring solutions or leave me alone. 

Learning we had lost footage sent me to sleep straight. I literally ordered a burger and slept for hours. At some point, we tried to pay to fix it, but we ended up just reshooting the scenes we lost. It cost us out of our personal money, but we did what we needed to do to save our film.

“Alli Eid Dinner”, like all your projects, is centred around women. What does this mean to you?

It feels normal to me. I’m very lucky to have talented and hardworking women around me. It means so much that I get to tell stories about layered and super interesting women. With “Alli Eid Dinner”, we had colourful female characters that triggered so many reactions, and I was very proud of how they translated on screen. 

What’s your favourite holiday movie of all time?

As a child, it was “Miracle on the 34th Street” (the 1994 one) and “Home Alone”. I still don’t have one of all time because it’s hard to pick. I also enjoyed “How to Ruin Christmas” Season 1. It really made me feel happy at the time it came out. 

What’s your favourite Eid tradition? 

Dressing up and taking my Eid naps. 

What would you bring to the Alli Eid dinner if you were a guest? 

My famous roasted chicken and brownies.

What other types of Eid stories would you like to see on screen?  

I’ll take anything right now. We don’t have enough, so I’ll really take anything. 

What’s next for FBG? 

HIRE FBG! I’m eager to do more work and tell many more stories. I want to work with people, collaborate, and again, tell more stories.

And for our next act: Everything to Know About Davido’s New Music Label, “Nine+ Records”

When Elise returned home a few months later for the holidays, we noticed something had changed in her. The girl who used to be playful and was friends with everyone kept to herself. The change in demeanour was one thing, but she also didn’t look well. Even though Elise said nothing, her mum suspected something went wrong while in school. 

Out of concern, she took Elise to the family hospital for a series of tests. It was supposed to be routine—to confirm nothing was wrong. But the doctor hit her with the worst news she didn’t imagine was possible: Elise was three weeks pregnant.

Following this revelation, the other details started to unravel. While Elise was in school, she was at the mercy of her sports teacher — we’ll call him Mr. X — who abused his position to molest her sexually. None of Elise’s peers or her teachers knew about this. Mr. X made sure of that. 

Elise’s heartbroken mother did the next best thing and got Mr. X arrested. But that man is free now because there wasn’t enough evidence to take the case to court.

With nothing else to do, Elise’s mum is torn between letting her adolescent daughter terminate her pregnancy, but there are restrictions on abortion services. Yet, if Elise keeps the pregnancy to term, her health is at serious risk. She’s 12 years old, after all. 

Should Elise be given a chance to live as a child without imposing motherhood on her or should she face the consequences of Mr X’s actions?

Stand up for survivors: Advocate for access to safe abortion services.

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Disney has released a ka-toon that’s made by Nigerians for Nigerians, based on Nigerian culture. “Iwaju” is a Nigerian sci-fi series set in a futuristic Lagos State, and as of February 28, 2024, all six episodes are on Disney Plus and the Disney Channel.

These episodes didn’t leave me wanting to binge the whole thing in a day just to see how it ends, but the animation is beautiful, and the creators did a good job with setting up Lagos. However, some of their choices had me asking questions.

Why do hawkers have drones?

In Lagos of the future, street hawkers not only still exist, but they use sophisticated drone technology to sell their wares. But regular vehicles also exist. Enough of them that traffic is still a thing in the future (because, Lagos, of course). When the main character’s driver uses their car’s flying function to escape a traffic jam, it’s clear that flying cars are a luxury that few enjoy. So what’s the point of investing in drones for street hawking? Surely it’s more lucrative to sell to the people who can’t escape a traffic jam (AKA the perfect condition for street hawking).

We still don’t have light in the future?

Are you kidding me? Drone technology is available to hawkers, and we’re still shouting “Up NEPA!” in the future? When we’re not cursed, abeg. I can’t even tell if this is realistic or not, and that’s what bothers me the most.

Why the Agege bread?

The question isn’t, “Why is there Agege bread in the future?” because Agege bread transcends time. It’s also not, “Why is the main character’s rich dad eating Agege bread?” because Agege bread transcends social status. My question is, “Why did the driver say, “By the way, sir, I bought you Agege bread” in the middle of a conversation, then pull out steaming hot Agege bread from where I can only assume is under the dashboard? There were better ways to include Agege bread in this scene (like, I don’t know, buying from the drone-operating hawkers?) Also, call me an ajebutter, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen steaming hot Agege bread.

What happened to the main character’s mum?

The obvious answer to this question is, “This is Disney. She’s obviously with the ancestors” and that’s fine. The real problem is she’s never mentioned, not even in passing. Usually, when the main character argues with their father because they want freedom, they’ll yell, “When Mom was here…,” sad music will play, and they’ll both be sad for like two minutes. If her mother is dead, they seem to have taken it rather well. Therapy must slap in the future.

Why does the Yoruba sound so white?

Voice acting has always been my biggest issue with Nigerian animation. And to its credit, most of the voice acting in “Iwaju” isn’t bad. They even avoided what I affectionately refer to as the “Wakanda Accent”. However, when the characters want to speak pidgin (or even Yoruba), the results are awkward, to say the least. Tola gets off easy since it’s established that she’s sheltered. But Kole is supposed to be the guy from Ajegunle. His pidgin shouldn’t sound so odd.

How do I get the villain’s glasses?

The villain’s glasses look clean as hell, but more importantly, they can scan the net worth of anyone he sets his eyes on. He uses it to kidnap children, but that’s beside the point. Can you imagine running into them “Do You Know Who I Am?” kids and pulling out the Broke Detector 3000s? You’d be able to expose their BS twice as fast. Apple or Meta should get on this, abeg.

Have you watched it yet? What questions did you have?

Meanwhile, did you know: African Animation Is on the Rise, and These 7 Shorts Prove It

When Nigeria took the lead against Ivory Coast during the AFCON final on Sunday night, my street erupted in a loud cheer, accompanied by the celebratory sounds of fireworks. I was indoors and couldn’t see the multicoloured fireworks die as quickly as they exploded in the night sky. But I have witnessed enough Christmases to imagine it. Just as soon as the excitement died down, my mind drifted to a memory of a dream that died as quickly.

The dream belonged to the Uber driver I met three days earlier. He loved and played football until his father took everything desirable out of him decades ago. 

The whole of Africa watched the Nigeria vs Cote d’Ivoire match at the edge of their seats, but I imagined he was out driving a passenger in his Uber Go vehicle — the exact vehicle he drove me in while the Nigeria vs South Africa game was on February 7.

“Did you catch the ’89 game? Nigeria versus USSR in the FIFA U-20 World Cup?” he started with a laugh when I asked him why he wasn’t watching the match. I chuckled at his rhetorical question because I wasn’t born in 1989. 

He recalled being a 21-year-old student, juggling studying for university entrance exams with watching the Under-20 World Cup game on the TV with his father. In their one-bedroom flat, his attention danced between the match played miles away in Saudi Arabia and the notes spread across his lap.

Like many Nigerians that day, his heart sank in the 46th minute when Russia took a 4-0 lead. Feeling sullen and defeated, he retreated to the bedroom to focus on studying. However, fifteen minutes later, his father’s cheers filtered through the thin wall separating both rooms. Nigeria’s midfielder, Oladimeji Lawal, had scored a goal with thirty minutes to go. Initially dismissing it inconsequential, he continued studying but was soon startled by another roar — Nigeria had scored a second goal.
“I closed my books and rushed back to the living room.” Before full-time, Nigeria scored two more goals to level with the USSR.
“I told myself that maybe a miracle could happen.” Coincidentally, that match is known as The Miracle of Damman, named after the Saudi Arabian stadium where the match was played.
“We watched the match on one of those black and white TVs that looked pregnant from behind,” he said, trying to describe the size of this TV. I wasn’t sure why this detail was important until he described what happened next.

What the TV may have looked like

Like the Nigeria vs South Africa match on the night of February 7, the World Cup game vs the USSR decades ago also ended in a draw. So, to decide the winner, both teams had to compete in a penalty shootout. 

My Uber driver at the time was a footballer, too. He started in defence and eventually played as a goalkeeper. I wanted to ask him if he played professionally, but I didn’t want to interrupt his flow. “I was very good at football,” he said.

He and his father watched the shootout with their hearts in their mouths. My Uber driver also thought simulating the match actions would help Nigeria’s chances of winning; if he kicked the imaginary ball in his living room and sent the keeper the wrong way, the Nigerian players would send the keeper the wrong way and score their penalty kicks. There was no logic to it, but he believed that’s what he had to do to help the team win. 

“But while I was trying to help Nigeria score, I hit my leg hard at the TV, shattering the device and rousing a sharp pain in my foot,” he said.

Nigeria won the penalty shootout and advanced to the semis, but neither he nor his father watched it happen. Throughout that night and the following days, his father tended to his injuries, but not with care. “He massaged my leg wickedly every night.”  

The aftercare was so painful that by the time the injury healed up and the pain was gone, so was his affinity for the sport.

Indifference now defines the 56-year-old’s attitude towards the sport. If my Uber is watching television and learns from his children that a match is on, he carries on with his shows like it is nothing. “I never interrupt any show I am watching just for a match. My son loves to watch football, but I send him off to the other room to use the television there.”

His son also plays football and nurses dreams of making a career out of it. My Uber Driver says he supports his interests as much as possible. “He is only 22 years old; still a young man. I won’t let my father’s actions block his dreams.”

The man now fuels his son’s football dreams with his earnings from driving cabs. Before Uber arrived in Lagos in 2014, he chauffeured the affluent in yellow taxis, a stark contrast to today’s more accessible ride-hailing scene. 

When there were no ride-hailing apps, taxi drivers waited long hours for customers at the airport, bus stops, and other busy landmarks. “Those rides cost more than today’s Ubers,” he reflected, “but finding customers could be a gamble sometimes.”

Eager to embrace technology’s promise of a steady stream of customers, the then 30-something-year-old yellow-taxi taxi driver saw an opportunity to make more money. However, his tech-hesitant colleagues, particularly the older drivers, warned him against it, calling it a waste of time.

Uber offered cheaper fares to attract more customers and charged no commission from drivers. This model, replicated by subsequent ride-hailing apps like Bolt, Indrive, and Rida, aimed to gain user trust and solve the classic “chicken-and-egg” problem of attracting drivers and riders. No driver wants to use a platform that does not have a lot of riders, and no riders want to use a platform that does not have a lot of drivers. However, you need one to get the other and lower fees for both parties are often a sure way to solve the problem.

The driver’s gamble with Uber proved fruitful. “The fare is smaller per ride, but there is a regular stream of customers,” he said. “I even returned to the yellow taxi park to convince some drivers to join the Uber platform.  

Now, after seven years, he has earned enough money to buy a car and more than one TV in the house he also built from his earnings, which allows him to watch shows of his choice on one while his kids watch football matches on the other.  

I was surprised to learn he had a car, considering that we were sitting in an Uber Go vehicle— a Suzuki that Moove, a vehicle-financing company, give out to drivers on a hire–purchase agreement. In addition to paying commissions to Uber, drivers have to pay Moove from their earnings in fixed instalments.

“I have someone driving my car on Uber and paying me money and commission from the ride,” he explained. 

Personal vehicle leasing is very common in Lagos, and car owners often sign agreements on paper to get as much as ₦25,000 weekly or ₦100,000 monthly from the drivers they rent the cars to.

It seemed lucrative, so I wondered why he was still driving with the Uber Go. The vehicle financing plan has fallen out of favour, with some drivers saying they don’t earn enough to meet the instalment payments.

“I was getting lazy,” he admitted. “With my car, I’d stop whenever I got bored or felt I’d earned enough money for the day.”  

According to him, Uber requires him to be online for 10 hours daily, six days a week. They believe it’s the best way for drivers to earn enough to pay off the car and eventually own it. However, many fail to meet the quotas and lose their vehicles. So, his self-imposed discipline surprised me. But maybe he thrives under pressure as the best footballers do.

As we pulled onto my street, I broke the comfortable silence again, asking him how familiar he was with my street. His response was a hearty laugh that stretched on for a full minute. “I know this place like the back of my hand,” he said, gesturing to a long, slender palm that made it hard to believe he was approaching 60. 

It made me wonder if his easy amusement was a remnant of youth, clinging on despite his father’s influence on his football dreams. Or if it was a response to the trauma he endured from his father after that night in 1989. 

I learned later that Nigeria lost the final against Côte D’Ivoire, finishing second in this AFCON campaign. When I heard the news, I wondered how many heartbreaks my Uber driver had spared himself after all these years of not watching football.