When Mrs. Agbaje started her school in Ibadan twelve years ago, she didn’t envision a tech-enabled future. Her dream was simple—provide affordable, quality education to children in her community. For the most part, she made it work. But as the school grew, a new challenge took root. It wasn’t infrastructure. It wasn’t teacher retention. It was something far more basic: getting paid.
Each new term brings the same pattern. Parents promise to pay fees “by next week.” Some follow through. Many don’t. As the term wears on, Mrs. Agbaje finds herself juggling spreadsheets, reminder texts, and awkward conversations in car parks or at school gates. Meanwhile, salaries must be paid, books restocked, diesel bought. More often than not, she dips into personal savings to keep things running.
Her story is common across Nigeria. Small businesses—whether they’re schools, salons, logistics firms, or cooperative groups—are constantly navigating the emotional and financial toll of delayed payments. And it’s not just a matter of inconvenience. A recent study by MacTay Consulting found that Nigerian SMEs wait between 60 to 120 days on average to receive payment for services or products already delivered. That kind of delay is more than a hiccup. It threatens livelihoods. It blocks growth. It’s a silent killer.
For Chuks, who runs a car hire service in Enugu, the issue is tied to his bigger corporate clients. They insist on “net 30” or “net 60” terms—industry-speak for “we’ll pay you in a month or two.” That might be manageable for a large fleet with strong cash reserves, but for someone like Chuks, every week matters. With fuel prices rising and maintenance bills stacking up, he’s often forced to park cars because he doesn’t have the cash to fix them—even when work is lined up.
What links these stories is the reality that small businesses operate in a system where money is constantly in motion but rarely on time. Customers often mean well, but their own financial instability creates a domino effect. And the existing tools to manage payments—handwritten ledgers, POS machines, WhatsApp reminders—were never designed for structure. They’re patched solutions to a systemic problem.
Even digital banking, for all its advancement in Nigeria, hasn’t solved this issue. Many SMEs still operate informally, managing finances through personal bank accounts or apps not tailored to business needs. The result is a messy web of follow-ups, reconciliations, and emotional strain. Business owners become debt collectors, chasing down what they’ve already earned, time and time again.
What’s often missed in conversations about entrepreneurship is just how deeply this problem cuts. Payment delays mean rent can’t be paid on time. It means holding off on hiring a new staff member, or letting go of a part-time assistant. It means saying no to growth opportunities, not because they’re not viable, but because the cash flow isn’t predictable enough to take the risk.
And when you zoom out, the implications are national. Small businesses make up over 90% of enterprises in Nigeria. They contribute nearly half of the country’s GDP and employ a significant portion of the workforce. Yet, their greatest enemy isn’t market competition—it’s irregular income. This is a structural inefficiency that deserves far more attention than it gets.
Slowly, however, change is beginning to show. A quiet revolution is underway—one where technology is stepping in not as a trend, but as a tool for financial stability. More SMEs are beginning to explore digital solutions that streamline payments and reduce friction between businesses and customers.
Among these solutions is PaywithAccount, a new tool launched by Nigerian fintech company OnePipe. Designed specifically for businesses with recurring payments—schools, cooperatives, service providers—it allows them to automate collections directly from customers’ bank accounts. With full consent and transparency, payments can be scheduled, reducing the need for repeated follow-ups or awkward reminders.
For Mrs. Agbaje, this has made a significant difference. Parents receive structured payment plans, reminders go out automatically, and debits happen based on prior agreement. She now spends less time tracking who has paid and more time planning curriculum upgrades and engaging with teachers.
The benefit isn’t just financial—it’s emotional. When business owners don’t have to chase payments, they gain time, clarity, and confidence. They can plan ahead, restock inventory, or finally invest in that expansion they’ve put off for years. And for customers, the experience feels more professional, more trustworthy. Everyone wins.
Technology won’t solve every problem for Nigerian SMEs. But smart, well-designed financial tools are starting to remove some of the biggest roadblocks—quietly and effectively. And that’s the point. The best systems aren’t flashy. They work in the background, reducing stress, restoring dignity, and enabling business owners to focus on what truly matters.
For Ope Adeoye, founder of OnePipe, the issue is personal. “Every Nigerian knows someone who runs a business—a cousin, a friend, a neighbour. When they suffer from late payments, it affects whole families and communities. Fixing this isn’t just a business goal—it’s a social one.”
In a country as dynamic and entrepreneurial as Nigeria, the challenge is rarely about lack of ideas. It’s about systems that help those ideas survive. And one of the most overlooked systems is the way money flows—or fails to.
As more SMEs embrace tools that put payment on autopilot, a future of stability—rather than constant survival—starts to feel possible. And in a nation powered by small businesses, that kind of shift could move mountains.
