There was a time when building a food business meant saving for rent, scouting prime locations, printing menus, and praying for foot traffic. In 2025? Most thriving food vendors don’t own a storefront. They run cloud kitchens out of shared apartments, cook with air fryers and electric pots, and reach customers through a few taps on Chowdeck or Glovo. The entire model has shifted — from roadside to digital, from foot traffic to app orders, from signage to screenshots.
A woman selling smoky jollof from her one-room apartment now competes with Dodo Pizza and The Place on your phone screen. A student in Port Harcourt running a shawarma hustle between lectures can now serve hundreds of customers a month — no storefront, no signage, no staff. And a Lagos mom, once dependent on her husband’s income, now supports her entire household with nothing but pepper soup and a Chowdeck account.
One of the most powerful examples is Hajia Amoke Odukoya, better known as Amoke Oge. She started cooking local meals from her kitchen in Lagos and joined Chowdeck early. Recently, she’s completed over 500,000 deliveries worth more than ₦2.3 billion. That’s an average of ₦4,600 per order — half a million meals, no restaurant required.
She’s not alone. Another standout, Korede Spaghetti — a UNILAG student — turned his mobile pasta business into a ₦1 billion brand, all while navigating exams, lectures, and Lagos hustle. These aren’t just cute stories. They’re case studies in what happens when grit meets technology.
When Food Becomes Freedom
Food delivery platforms in Nigeria are more than just tech startups; they help regular people, especially women, students, and side-hustlers, participate in the economy without needing a lot of money or political connections. This is important because it challenges the norm.
Running a traditional business in Nigeria is getting more expensive due to rising costs like diesel, rent, POS charges, and various taxes. These delivery platforms provide something unique: the chance to reach customers without a physical location, make sales without signs, and achieve success without gatekeepers.
However, many people do not take this change seriously. We often believe that real businesses only exist in malls and well-known restaurants. At the same time, digital chefs are turning WhatsApp orders into full-time incomes. We still give business grants to those with fancy pitch decks while ignoring those who already have customers on platforms like Glovo. This issue isn’t just about not seeing innovation; it is a form of classism that hides behind technology.
Chowdeck Is the New Corner Shop
Chowdeck has emerged as a leading player in the market. They offer fast onboarding, a seamless user interface, and lower fees compared to traditional aggregators.
However, what really sets them apart is their community-first approach to scaling. Instead of waiting for technology to reach them, they proactively bring it to various cities. And the response from the community? They’re ready for it.
For example, a jollof vendor in Akure can now efficiently track her orders, monitor her earnings, respond to customer reviews, and grow her brand—all from her phone. If that’s not a glimpse into the future of African entrepreneurship, what is?
The Big Question: Are We Paying Attention?
If you still believe that “selling food online” is minor work, consider this: What kind of economy are we creating? Is it one where billion-naira kitchens are viewed as “real businesses,” while the person earning ₦200,000 a month from delivery apps is merely seen as “just hustling”? Or is it one in which digital tools help democratise entrepreneurship, enabling anyone with skill, creativity, and Wi-Fi to succeed?
Here’s the truth: the Chowdeck chef is not a backup plan; she is the blueprint for success. So, before you scroll past another food vendor on Instagram or hesitate to place that Glovo order because you think “it’s not a real restaurant,” remember this: technology is not just about apps; it’s about access. Food—the most universal human need—is how thousands are reclaiming control over their futures.