#NairaLife: He Made Millions From Crypto and Invested It In a Cab Business. Then Everything Crashed

Every week, Naijaonpoint seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.

Money was important to me since primary school because of snacks. I could get tired of school food and want to get meat pie outside. I remember a lady who sold meat pies for ₦50 back then, and they had actual, huge chunks of meat inside.

My parents gave us snack money, but sometimes I saved mine for two or three days just to buy that meat pie, or to get ice cream after school. The ice cream guys on bicycles had Jamil Yoghurt or Fan Milk for around ₦30, while the cheaper ones, basically ice block and colour, were ₦10 or ₦20.

I can’t remember the exact figure; maybe ₦20 or ₦30. My older sisters got more because they were in higher classes. But we always had lunch boxes from home too, so we weren’t lacking.

I’m the fifth of six children. My dad worked at an oil company, so things were good. One thing he never compromised on was school fees. He made sure everyone’s fees were paid promptly, so no one was ever chased out of school. My mum worked in community health.

I wouldn’t say I was born with a silver spoon, but we had the necessities: shelter, food, and clothes. Getting new Christmas clothes every year was a big deal, and we always had that.

In secondary school, I was heavily into video games, mostly fighting games like Mortal Kombat and Dragon Ball. People at the game centre would bet on my games, and if I won, I’d get a percentage of the win. I also entered small gaming tournaments. Winning could fetch up to ₦1,000, which was a lot of money when one hour of gameplay cost just ₦50.

I finished secondary school in 2009 and stayed home for two years while trying to get uni admission. During that time, I did basic computer training and learned safety procedures under a safety officer. My boss was an HSE officer who trained people for rig work and worked with companies like Shell.

I worked with him informally, learning CPR and how different fire extinguishers worked. I’d go to schools and hotels, market fire extinguisher refills, and collect the cans. My boss got his cut, and the profit margin was mine.

I earned around ₦50k monthly. It was big money for someone who had just finished secondary school. The transport fare to the office was like ₦50, and I could even walk there if I wanted. Since I didn’t have real responsibilities, I spent most of the money on clothes, gadgets, and video games.

I left in 2011 after I was admitted to the university and moved to another state. 

It wasn’t steady because I’ve never been much of a business person, but I did side hustles when opportunities came up. I used to buy graphic tees and resell them to guys. When Dashiki shirts started trending, I bought them for cheap from a seller around school and took them back home to Port Harcourt on order.

I also bought charm bracelets from Amazon, swapped updated video games for a fee, and sold downloaded PC games to guys in the hostel from time to time.

That said, I didn’t really need cash at uni because my dad was transferred to the same state where I schooled, and his house was close to campus. I lived with him, and he gave me ₦2,000 a day for transport, plus pocket money on the side. Since I ate at home and didn’t have off-campus rent, I practically had zero expenses.

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I graduated in July 2015 and went for NYSC in Abuja. My Place of Primary Assignment (PPA) was at a government agency. They paid a stipend of ₦5,000 in addition to the ₦19,800 federal allowance. My job involved compiling data on national issues from all 36 states and summarising it into reports sent directly to the President.

I stayed close to the office so I could walk to work, which saved transport costs. Abuja was great; good roads, nice parks, and accessible malls.

No, the agency complained about a lack of funds, so they couldn’t retain us. In 2017, I returned to Port Harcourt and went back to the safety firm where I had worked after secondary school. My salary was raised to ₦100k/month, along with a promised office phone and laptop that I never received.

I stayed for about five months, worked briefly at a fuel station my sister managed, and then spent the rest of 2018 preparing for my master’s degree.

My dad deeply valued education. When I expressed interest in a master’s, he backed it and released the funds before he passed away in 2018. I also secured a 50% scholarship. In January 2019, I left Nigeria for Cyprus.

Thank you. It’s life. It happened.

Shortly after arriving in Cyprus, friends introduced me to cryptocurrency. I bought one Ethereum coin for ₦80,000 (around $170–$200 at the time).

When COVID hit in early 2020, the entire market crashed, and my Ethereum dipped to $114. Friends told me to sell, but I decided to hold. By 2021, when the crypto market boomed, my single Ethereum token rose to $4,000. When it started fluctuating between $3,800 and $4,000, I converted it to USDT to lock in the profit.

I wasn’t. To make extra money, I did some odd jobs. I worked on a bee farm where the owner paid 300 TL (Turkish Lira) a day, fed us well, and gave us fresh honey. Normal odd jobs paid around 60 – 80 TL per day for hard labour. I also did farm clearing, moved restaurant equipment, and chopped firewood for an elderly neighbour who paid 50 TL for 20 minutes of work.

I wasn’t purely surviving on odd jobs, though. Before leaving Nigeria, my family made a joint investment of ₦10 million into a bitumen company (everyone contributed equal shares of about ₦2 million; my contribution came from what my dad left me). My share returned $300 monthly. But during COVID, financial policies shifted, the dollar skyrocketed, and the investment payouts froze.

Thankfully, things weren’t really expensive in Cyprus. The TL equivalent of ₦10k could last me for a week. I also had some money left over from my dad’s master’s funds. I completed the degree in 2021.

I tried to move to Australia on a work visa. An agent asked us to come to Nigeria for biometrics, so my roommate and I flew to Lagos and paid over ₦300k. Then the agent started giving endless excuses, and by then, our Cyprus student visas had expired, so we couldn’t go back. 

In 2022, after a few months of staying at home doing nothing, I withdrew ₦1.550 million from my crypto profits (almost the entire amount) and bought a car to run an e-hailing cab service.

Initially, I made over ₦20k daily after covering fuel. Over time, I built a network of private offline clients. I picked up remote call-centre workers between 9 p.m. and 11 p.m., did airport drops for ₦20k, and handled inter-state trips.

By 2023, fuel and maintenance prices had skyrocketed. Engine oil went from ₦6,000 to ₦14,000. Nigerian roads cause heavy wear and tear, and I was constantly fixing something. I decided it didn’t make financial sense to drive full-time regularly. So, I cut back my hours and focused more on private clients. My daily income dropped to around ₦15k, but I was still making good money and was very comfortable.

Until February 2025, when my car was stolen.

I had parked near a church to answer a phone call about a driving gig. I left the car parked behind some school buses and went inside to wait for my friends. When we came out, the car was gone. My tracking subscription had expired, so I couldn’t trace it.

I did. That car was my business and my main source of income, so losing it just like that was a huge blow. But I still joined my friends for karaoke that same Sunday evening. 

Well, the car was gone, and we already had plans to go out that day. Sundays were my only time off and my only opportunity to hang out with my friends. That day just turned out to be an unfortunate Sunday.

So, yes, we still went out. They were all trying to console me, but I just figured the car was gone. Later, my friend, who worked at the church, reported what had happened to the church management. They involved the police, but nothing came of it. A few weeks later, around the end of March, the head pastor gave me ₦1 million as support. 

I spent most of that money trying to fix a family Sienna car to see if I could work with it, but it’s currently parked at a mechanic shop with gearbox issues.

Around the time my car was stolen, my uncle called me about a potential government job in another state, so I spent five months living with my sister there. The job eventually didn’t work out, so I returned to Port Harcourt in August 2025.

Back home, I focused on building a faceless YouTube gaming channel. I’ve always been something of a gamer, and I figured I could try to make money from it.

It took me a while to hit 1,000 subscribers, but when I did and qualified for monetisation two months ago, I faced multiple ID verification issues. I eventually linked a friend’s AdSense account to get approved.

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