3,021 Reasons to Bet on Nigeria
I posted a vague job ad. 3,021 people applied. I wasn’t ready for what I found.
THE DESK By KEMI ADEOSUN
I recently posted a simple appeal on social media, recruiting three positions for Nidacity, my entrepreneur-focused social enterprise. It was personal: “I’m looking for bright, teachable people. OND to PhD — I really don’t care.” There were no job descriptions, no person specifications, just an invitation to work directly with me and grow. Within days, I received over 3,000 applications. 3,021 is the current tally.
If I were vain — and I can be — I would put it down to my deep personal appeal. But I know that the numbers speak volumes about the energy pulsing through Nigeria’s labour market. It is an energy that official statistics easily conceal.
Having spent decades in finance and government as Minister and Commissioner, I thought I understood employment markets. I didn’t. Three thousand applications has been a revelation. Here’s what I have learned.
The New Labour Market
I was struck [da1] by the number already working remotely — some for US and UK-based employers — while living in Nigeria. What it reveals is an extraordinary capacity for work, ambition beyond borders, and the willingness to put in 60-70 hour weeks for something meaningful. That impressed me.[da2] [da3] What worried me was the number working 100% remotely, some in their first jobs. Delivering on tasks is the easy part, but there is a hidden cost. The lack of socialisation, exposure to teamwork, and interpersonal dynamics could deprive them of the skills they will need to progress beyond entry level. Not knowing how to read the room, or sense what is nuanced rather than said, can be career-limiting.
The Geography Problem
Opportunity in Nigeria has an address. Lagos, Abuja, Port Harcourt dominated applications, but standouts came from Maiduguri, Sokoto, and Calabar. In the 1990s, UK relocation packages cost tens of thousands of pounds — I was paid a signing bonus by a top consulting firm. Now, people offer to uproot entire lives on the promise of possibility. It drives an internal ‘japa’ within Nigeria and beyond her borders.
Possibility has a price tag. Moving to Lagos means first rent, last rent, agent fees, and higher living costs — a significant outlay before starting work. For someone underemployed, that can feel insurmountable. I’ve made adjustments: remote work where possible, flexible start dates.
The Standout
One candidate did exactly what I asked – completed the application as directed. Then he went further. He reached out separately to explain how we could have used technology to improve our recruitment process. And he didn’t just theorize – he created a sample document, complete with our logo, showing what he meant.
We hired him within days. He has no degree yet, and he’s already doing great work. This is what I mean about qualifications or location not mattering — it’s the person. Not the degree on the wall or the address near Lagos, but the initiative to see a problem and solve it without being asked.
Here’s the troubling counterpoint: too many applicants couldn’t or didn’t follow basic instructions. Trying to impress me with elaborate CVs or cover letters in the wrong format actually worried me. If you can’t follow instructions in an application, how will you follow them on the job?
Nurture and Release
I have a track record of doing things differently. In 2021, I identified a bright young woman — too many ideas, too little patience. By 2022, I put her in charge of the Dash Me Foundation. “You’ll make mistakes,” I told her. “But you have what it takes.”
She expanded branches from one to three and grew sales by 340%. Then she outgrew us. When it was time to go, we both knew it. I wasn’t bitter — I was ready for it. I had built systems knowing that, in this job market, holding onto talent is tough. As a founder, watching nurtured talent leave is bittersweet. But doing it right means they outgrow you.
The Rough Reality
The labour market has structurally changed in ways that make it harder. AI now does much of the grunt work on which my generation cut our teeth. Junior analysts don’t spend months building Excel models – AI does it in minutes.
The entry-level apprenticeship — that learning-by-doing foundation — is being replaced by technology-dependent programmes. Where do young people build foundational skills when the foundation itself is automated?
Yet within this challenging landscape, there’s undeniable talent. Serious, committed people willing to work multiple jobs, relocate on faith, and learn continuously. Nigeria’s got talent. The challenge for founders and business leaders is building systems worthy of it.
- Qualifications don’t count. The standout candidate wasn’t the one with the most impressive CV. He followed instructions, then showed initiative by proposing improvements and creating samples unprompted.
- The labour market has fundamentally restructured. Many applicants already work remotely for US and UK employers from Nigeria. The gig economy isn’t coming – it’s here.
- AI has changed the game. The grunt work that used to be our training ground – the spreadsheets, the basic analysis, the repetitive tasks – is now automated. We need new ways to help young people build foundational skills when the foundation itself has shifted.
- Geography still matters, but differently. Regional barriers are real – relocation costs can be insurmountable. But remote work offers new possibilities to access talent beyond privilege.
- Following instructions matters.
- Good people will leave. If you’re nurturing talent rather than hoarding it, turnover is success, not failure — and in today’s job market, it’s a reality.
- Harsh changes to UK and US visa rules are repatriating talent. That may not be what families who spent millions on overseas education had planned — but Nigeria needs those skills in order to grow. Respecting returning talent in the job market is wisdom.
- Underemployment is the real crisis. Official unemployment statistics — whether 33% or 3% — miss the point. The issue is talented people trapped in jobs using 10% of their capacity. That’s the reality we can’t ignore.
I’m already sharing surplus talent with other founders — there’s too much quality to keep to myself. But I’m also rejecting over 3,000 applications from people who trusted me with their hopes.
Those applications weren’t just CVs. They were a mirror. And Nigeria’s reflection should give us all cause to act.
Kemi Adeosun is a former Minister of Finance. She writes from Lagos
[da1]I think that this proves Nigerians want the gig economy, since you didn’t give any job specifications, this is a reflection of what they would choose, isn’t it?
[da2]Just trying to be a bit more balanced, also 60 -70 hr weeks + a job is unrealistic. Trying to acknowledge that too
[da3]Or Nigerian talent are not going to be left behind
[da4]This is kind of just a repetition of everything you already said, is it going somewhere else or part of the same article?
