HOW I OVERCAME: Ekibi: ‘I Leveraged ‘Osusu Savings System’ To Become Self-Employed’

What was not enough for her colleagues on the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) has made Ekibi a standout. Posted to a semi-urban setting for the one-year mandatory national assignment, she raised capital from her monthly federal allowance and tapped into the trading opportunities in the community market.

Narrating how she started, Ekibi said she decided not to follow the path of her siblings, who, after the NYSC scheme, roamed the streets for years in search of unavailable white-collar jobs. She said, “I wanted to be self-employed, even if it meant being a small-scale trader. I have been too restless all my life to settle for an office job. I can’t bear the boredom. The long hours of sitting in one spot make me feel caged.

“An office job to me is too routine and does not allow room for personal creativity. You just follow the norm or tradition. If you must do anything different, it must be approved. All these don’t go down well with me,” she said.

Against this backdrop, Ekibi resolved to operate a cosmetic shop after the national assignment. She also planned to go into wholesale if she broke even in the retail cosmetic business and the large fashion world.

Her biggest challenge was limited access to formal financing. Like many entrepreneurs in her community, banks felt distant—high interest rates, collateral requirements, and complex paperwork stood in the way of growth.

What she did have, however, was trust within her community and access to a time-tested financial practice: the Osusu Savings System.

Osusu, a rotational savings and credit association, brought together a group of persons, either of the same office, trade or neighbourhood, who agreed to regularly contribute a fixed amount. Each member received the pooled sum in turn.

For Ekibi, this structure provided something rare—lump-sum capital without interest. She joined fellow corps members, contributing a percentage of her monthly allowance.

When her turn came, Ekibi received the full Osusu payout. Instead of spending it on short-term needs, she secured a corner in the community’s market and began her cosmetics trade.

Ekibi said, “After my discharge, I did not return home immediately. I stayed back to nurture my business. The rent was affordable and my landlord was impressed with my decision to stay back. He waived the house rent for me while the lady whom I had studied under in cosmetics sales during my service year gave me start-up wares.

“I bought more items with the lump sum Osusu collection. I expanded my inventory, negotiated better prices with the big traders in the market. Over time, I started buying in bulk and diversified my product range. This immediately increased my daily turnover.”

She joined the larger Osusu scheme in the market. The discipline enforced by Osusu also reshaped Ekibi’s financial habits. Daily contributions instilled consistency, while the group’s social accountability reduced the temptation to divert funds. Unlike informal borrowing, Osusu came with no penalties beyond social trust—yet that trust proved powerful enough to ensure commitment.

As her business grew, Ekibi reinvested profits and joined a second Osusu group, effectively stacking capital cycles. Within two years, she moved from the corner stall to a permanent shop, employed two assistants, and became a mentor to younger traders.

Ekibi also started a fashion shop specialising in children’s wares. Looking back, Ekibi said, “I am happy travelling this road. It is rough, but rewarding. It allows you to take risks, bear the brunt of failure. The returns are encouraging, and the feeling that you work for yourself keeps you on your toes.”

Her story illustrates a broader truth: financial inclusion doesn’t always start with banks. Community-based systems like Osusu can unlock entrepreneurship, especially in environments where formal credit is inaccessible. By combining social capital with financial discipline, Osusu empowered Ekibi not just to save—but to build, scale and thrive.