Best Advertising Copywriter

Many marketers in Nigeria think Lagos is the whole country. That’s why their adverts don’t work in places like Kano, Aba, or Jos. It’s a hard truth. We sit in fancy offices in Lagos, create adverts, and expect everyone to connect with them. But people in other parts of Nigeria live differently, think differently, and buy differently. If you assume everyone is like you, you’ll waste your money. David Ogilvy, a famous advertising expert, once said, “The consumer is not a fool. She is your wife.” In Nigeria, your customer could be your imam, your village chief, your grandmother who listens to radio, or a student using borrowed data to stay online. If you don’t understand her life, your advert won’t speak to her. The Nigerian Consumer Is Not Just Your Lagos Neighbor Nigeria is full of different cultures, languages, and ways of life. One advert cannot work for everyone. You must study how people behave, not just where they live or how old they are. Three Things You Must Know About Nigerian ...

Last December, my friend Amaka ran a Christmas promo for her skincare brand. She spent over ₦60K on ads, used a trending influencer, and even gave discounts. But after all the hype? Just 3 sales. She was heartbroken. “People are liking and commenting, but nobody is buying,” she said. I checked the ad. The caption said: “Glow this season. Limited stock. DM to order.” That was it. No details. No direction. No connection. Here’s the truth—people don’t buy because your product is amazing. They buy because your message makes them feel seen, understood, and safe to act. High-converting copy isn’t about hype. It’s about psychology. When I write ads, I don’t start with features. I start with feelings. I ask: – What fear is holding this person back? – What desire are they secretly chasing? – What belief do I need to shift before they say yes? Then I use proven psychological triggers like: – Specificity: “₦3,500 organic soap for oily skin” will always beat “Glow up with us.” – Social proof: “Ove...

During ASUU strike, I decided to stop complaining and start hustling. I picked up freelancing—writing, design, anything that could earn me dollars online. After weeks of grinding, I landed my first international gig. $250. I was hyped. That money could’ve changed everything. But then reality slapped me. I had no way to receive the payment. My bank didn’t support foreign transfers. PayPal wasn’t working. I tried everything—nothing clicked. The client waited, then moved on. I lost the money, and worse, I lost the momentum. That’s when I discovered Geegpay. If you’re a Nigerian freelancer, remote worker, or business owner dealing with clients abroad, this app is your lifeline. Geegpay gives you instant virtual dollar cards and foreign bank accounts—USD, GBP, EUR—so you can receive payments like a boss and spend without stress. No more begging friends in the UK to help you cash out. No more crazy conversion rates or delayed transfers. Just smooth, fast, borderless payments. I’ve used it to...

I once copied someone’s post word-for-word — and it flopped like NEPA light during rain. It was a skincare brand I admired. Their post was getting likes, comments, even reshares. I thought, “This caption is fire!” So I copied it, pasted it under my own product, and waited for magic. Guess what? Crickets. No likes. No comments. No sales. Just me refreshing my page like I was checking JAMB result. That’s when I learned the hard truth — people don’t buy the words. They buy the person behind the words. That brand had built trust for years. Their audience knew their story. They had shared their struggles, their wins, their behind-the-scenes. So when they posted, it connected. Me? I was just a stranger copying their voice. Even if the post looked the same on the outside, it didn’t carry the same weight inside. No soul. No story. No connection. In Nigeria, we love originality. We love realness. We love people we can relate to. So when you copy, people can smell it. And they scroll past. Inste...

I once bought a phone just because everybody on my street had it — and I regretted it the same week. It was that popular model wey everybody dey hype. I didn’t check reviews. I didn’t test camera. I didn’t even ask questions. I just saw the crowd and followed. First day, it was fine. Second day, the battery started acting like PHCN. Third day, the screen froze while I was trying to transfer money. I nearly cried. That’s when I understood the bandwagon effect. It’s when we follow what others are doing — not because we’ve thought it through, but because we don’t want to be left out. We see people jumping into a trend, and we jump too. Whether it’s fashion, food, business, or even investment. Some people bought land in one area just because their friend said, “That place dey hot now.” No inspection. No documents. Just vibes. Now they’re still dragging fence with omo onile. We do it with clothes, phones, restaurants, even skincare. One person posts a cream, and suddenly, everybody wants to...

Last year, I nearly gave up on my business. I had spent money I didn’t have—paid a photographer, bought ring lights, even hired someone to manage my page. My captions were clean. My hashtags were trending. I posted every single day. But guess what? I made just ₦32,000 that month. I cried. I felt like a failure. I thought maybe business wasn’t for me. Then something happened. I stumbled on two hair sellers in Abuja. Same supplier. Same street. Same prices. But one made ₦47K. The other made ₦340K. I followed both for two weeks. What I saw changed everything. Seller A had the perfect page. Bright photos. Neat layout. Captions like “Best hair products in town” and “DM to order.” 850 followers. 5 likes. No comments. No gist. Seller B? Same products. Same quality. But her captions hit different. “This hair isn’t stubborn. It’s just tired of chemicals. Let it breathe.” “Stop fighting your hair. Start loving it.” 820 followers. 50 likes. Real comments. Women sharing how the product gave them c...

I lost 500,000 naira in one month because I didn't know this secret. Let me tell you what happened. Last year, I was selling phones in Alaba Market. I thought I was smart because I was selling cheaper than everyone else. iPhone 13 for 450k when others were selling for 550k. I was so proud of myself, thinking customers would rush my shop. Bros, for three weeks, I was sitting there like statue. People would come, check my phones, ask questions, then go to the next shop and buy the same phone for 100k more. I was confused. Am I cursed or what? I lost so much money that my girlfriend almost left me. She said I was not serious with my life. My landlord was threatening me. I was borrowing money to eat. Then one day, I decided to follow one customer who left my shop. You know what I saw? The guy went to buy the exact same phone from my neighbor for 550k. Same phone, same everything. I was so angry I wanted to fight the customer. But something made me stay and observe. And what I saw chang...