It’s 10 am at Ikorodu garage. It’s hot and humid, and every hour feels like a rush hour. Everyone is going somewhere. Everyone is busy with one thing or the other.
You can hear different cries from different angles. Sellers calling attention to their wares, the conductors screaming at the top of their voices for passengers.
Tucked at a corner under a fading blue umbrella sits Yetunde* (not her real name), a young woman in her late twenties. A wooden bench serves as her chair, holding her POS machine rests, with a cross-bag wrapped around her body (probably where she keeps her cash).
This is her office. Where she has been building her life, one transaction at a time.
We sit together as she attends to customers in between questions. Sometimes, Yetunde pauses to confirm if a transfer has indeed been completed.
So tell me, who’s Yetunde?
My name is Yetunde*. I was born and raised in Ikorodu, and honestly, Ikorodu has shaped me in many ways.
Now I’m curious. How exactly?
Well, growing up in Ikorodu was both fun and tough. I grew up in a close-knit family, and my parents always encouraged me to be hardworking and independent.
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I had my early education here in Ikorodu before going on to Lagos State Polytechnic (LASPOTECH). My time at LASPOTECH was very defining because that was where I really began to take my hustling seriously and turned it into something I could make a living out of.
What kind of student were you then? Were you more into books, or already deep into chasing the bag?
To be honest, I was a bit of both. I liked my books, but I also liked to find small ways to make extra cash. Even from secondary school, I was always thinking of how to do something small on the side.
So you were always entrepreneurial, even before LASPOTECH?
Yes. Even before LASPOTECH, I don dey run small businesses here and there. I remember in JSS3, I used to plait my classmates’ hair during break. They’d give me ₦50 or ₦100. I would save it. By SSS2, I was already selling sachet Milo and sugar to neighbours.
Hence, by the time I gained admission into LASPOTECH, business management was already second nature. I couldn’t sit and wait for an allowance from home to get one or two things I needed for myself.
What were you selling during your ND and HND days?
Actually, na anything wey go sell I dey sell. I started with small chops, puff puff, samosa, spring rolls. At night after class, I fry and package them. And then sell them around the following day when people are not having lectures.
Later, I added recharge cards, then later, clothes. At one point, I was even selling weaves. It was stressful balancing school and work, but I liked the feeling of having my own money. When you sell something ₦500 and gain ₦200, and you’re the one keeping it, it gives you some kind of confidence, probably what people call ‘financial freedom’ today.
Did your family support your hustle back then?
Hmm. My mum was supportive, she always said, “At least you’re not begging.” But my dad was sometimes worried. He would say, “Face your studies, all these selling up and down can distract you.” But he later saw my results were good, so he relaxed. Now when he sees me working here at the garage, he shakes his head but he knows I’m just a determined girl.
After HND, why POS? Many people might consider it too little for your education.
To be honest, I didn’t plan it at first. After school, I tried selling wigs, online marketing, and even worked as a sales girl in a shop. But those things were unstable. Customers go order wig, then change their mind. Deliveries go delay. Salary as a sales girl was ₦25,000 monthly, where that one wan reach?
I started observing POS people. In the garage especially, every day people dey withdraw. Whether conductor, trader, or banker, they all need cash. I said, instead of chasing 9–5, let me try POS. And it’s worked, so far.
How much capital did you need to start?
I started with around ₦100,000. I bought the POS machine, set up the stand, and had some cash flow for customers. It wasn’t easy raising it, but I used savings from previous businesses and borrowed a little from my elder sister.
What’s a typical day like?
I get to the garage by 6a.m. By then, people don dey rush. Workers going to Lagos Island or mainland are regular customers.
From 6:00 a.m. till around 8 p.m., na steady work. Sometimes I don’t eat until 2 pm. I can’t leave the stand for long because customers can come anytime.
Ikorodu garage is always noisy, dusty, and usually stressful. You can also attest to the noise. But over time, I have gotten used to this. People know me now. I have my own regular customers.
Let’s talk about money. Realistically, how much do you make?
On weekdays, I can run transactions up to ₦150,000 to ₦300,000. What I charge depends on the amount the customer wants to withdraw, sometimes it is ₦100, ₦200, or ₦300. At the end of the day, the average daily profit is between ₦5,000–₦7,000. On a really good day, ₦10,000.
Weekends are a bit slower. But in a month, I can make enough to sort bills, support my family, and also save. People think the gains from the POS business are peanuts, but the truth is, it pays. Some of my friends in office jobs earn ₦50k monthly. I can make that in 10–14 days.
What do you usually spend your daily profits on?
First, transport and food. Then daily contributions (ajo). I also support my younger brother sometimes with school fees. The rest, I save. I’ve been saving towards opening a small supermarket in Ikorodu.
What’s the hardest part of this hustle?
Number one: network wahala. Nothing pain pass like when the bank debits a customer, say ₦5,000, yet it doesn’t reflect on my machine. They’ll shout, get angry, even accuse you of fraud. Sometimes I have to beg customers like, “Oga calm down, the money will reverse.” But Nigerians don’t trust banks, so they fear.
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The second thing is security. This place is busy and sometimes rough. I don’t like carrying too much cash. One time, a thief trid to snatch my bag. If not for area boys wey chase am, I for cry that day. Since then, I’m always on the alert.
Thirdly, competition. Many POS stands dey here. If you loose guard too much, customer fit cross to another person.
Do people look down on you because your primary employment is as a POS merchant?
Yes, especially at first. Some people say, “You went to school, finish ND, HND, na garage work you dey do?” I used to care, but not anymore. As long as I’m not begging, as long as I’m making clean and legal money, I’m okay. The truth is, many of those mocking cannot boast of any savings. Meanwhile, this small machine dey give me income.
How does it feel to be a woman doing this hustle in the garage?
It’s not always easy. At first, people didn’t take me seriously. Some men would say, “Fine girl, you sure you fit handle money for here?” But after some months, I gained respect from everyone. When people see you’re serious, they tend to eventually respect you.
Also, I learnt to be tough. If you’re too soft, people will cheat you. Sometimes customers try to underpay or claim transactions didn’t go through. You have to stand your ground.
What is your overarching dream?
I want to open a supermarket in Ikorodu. Something neat, where people can buy foodstuffs, toiletries, and drinks. I want to employ others, not just work for myself. Later, maybe expand into wholesale. This POS merchant thing is just a stepping stone.
I like your confidence. What’s the secret when things get tough?
Hope. And remembering that hustle no dey shame.
Sound. What advice would you give other young Nigerians feeling stuck?
Don’t despise small beginnings. Start with what you have. If it’s akara, sell it; if it’s delivery, do it. Even if it’s POS, embrace it. People go laugh, but talk no dey pay bills. Hustle with dignity. One day, you’ll look back and realise the small hustle carried you to big things.
One last word on the marble?
(Looks around as another customer approaches with a card)
Las las, everybody dey hustle. My story no perfect, but I’m proud. From LASPOTECH till now, I never sit idle. This POS is just one step. Tomorrow, bigger things go come.
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