Before I ever sat in a university lecture hall, I was building websites for paying clients. What I was really learning was operations: how an order moves, where a customer gets lost, and what has to happen behind the screen for a small business to get paid. By the time I finished my Computer Science degree, that work had grown to more than fifty clients across Nigeria, the United Kingdom, and the United States, most of them women, most of them small business owners betting on themselves.
But the job that made me an operations person was at a bookstore.
At RovingHeights, one of Nigeria's most loved bookstores, I spent four years as the IT administrator, running the systems behind the scenes of Nigerian reading culture. My proudest build there is a fully automated order management system that captures orders from every channel and carries each customer from checkout to delivery to feedback without a single dropped thread. I left in 2025. The system is still running. That is my standard for operations: it should outlive me.
Books pulled me deeper. Through Being Black in Publishing, an initiative bringing more Black people into the business of publishing, I joined Cassava Republic Press, the London-based publishing house behind some of the most important African writing of our time, first as an intern, then as part of the team. I worked on the machinery of publishing: digital infrastructure, marketing, and the campaigns that carry a book from launch to readers. Those campaigns included books I will be proud of forever: The World Was in Our Hands by Chitra Nagarajan, telling the real stories of survivors of the Boko Haram conflict, and The Mercy Step by Marcia Hutchinson, shortlisted for the 2026 Women's Prize for Fiction and a 2026 British Book Awards winner.
Then I started building my own. PrimeBooks is my answer to the question that haunts every Nigerian reader: what happens when people are priced out of books? It is an act of solidarity built like a supply chain, with creative partnerships that bring good books into Nigeria at prices readers can actually afford, because we refuse to be priced out of good literature. Élékéré Press, which began life as Open Arts Press, is the other half of that resistance: a publishing house deciding which African stories get told and pushing them to the world, alongside houses like Cassava Republic, Jonathan Ball, and Narrative Landscape, instead of waiting for those decisions to be made outside the continent.
And then I took the same playbook somewhere unexpected: American real estate. Today I run transaction coordination for a real estate team in Milwaukee. Every file moves from contract to closing on my watch: deadlines tracked, paperwork complete, the team kept in compliance, and every client looked after at each stage, all from a desk six to seven hours ahead in Abuja. Nothing slips.
People used to tell me to pick one thing. I tried. It turns out the one thing was never an industry. It was operations. Real estate, publishing, and e-commerce are simply where I practice it, and the way of working never changes: build the system carefully, tell the story honestly, and hold every project to the same standard.
That is what you get when you work with me.