Tunde’s Confession: The Weight of a Failing Dream

“I think my business is failing.”

The words hung in the air, cutting through the low hum of side conversations. The atmosphere shifted. A few people straightened in their seats. Others exchanged quick glances but said nothing.

Tunde gripped the back of a chair, his knuckles whitening. He hadn’t planned to say it out loud—hadn’t planned to admit it at all. But now that the words were out, there was no taking them back.

He exhaled sharply. “I thought this would be easy,” he continued, his voice steady but burdened with something deeper—frustration, shame. “I mean, I watched people online—other Nigerians in the UK—opening food stalls, posting their wins, talking about how much they were making. It looked simple enough. Find a spot, get a grill, make good food, and customers will come, right?” He let out a hollow chuckle. “That’s what I believed.”

The Rise: The Illusion of Early Success

For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, staring at the floor before looking back up. “At first, it felt like I had made the right choice. I set up my kiosk in a busy street market, selling Nigerian street food—puff puff, fried yam, plantain, suya, and peri peri chicken. The first few weekends were amazing.

The smells alone—fresh suya sizzling on the grill, crispy plantain frying—people couldn’t resist. They lined up, smiling, inhaling deeply, telling me how good it smelled. A woman took a bite of my suya and closed her eyes, savouring it. ‘This tastes like home,’ she said. I smiled so hard my face hurt.”

He shook his head, his grip tightening. “I felt like I was doing something meaningful. I wasn’t just selling food. I was bringing a piece of Nigeria to the UK, sharing our culture, our flavours. It felt good.”

But then… things changed.

The Fall: The Slow, Painful Realisation

“At first, it was small things,” Tunde continued, his voice lower now. “A customer asked if I had jollof rice. I didn’t, so they walked away. It happened again the next day. And again. People kept asking for things I didn’t have, and each time I said no, I could see it—the hesitation, the shift in their faces. They weren’t coming back.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Then the real problems started. I couldn’t keep up with orders. The grill would be full, and I’d still have people waiting. I thought it was a good problem to have—too many customers—but then I realised… they weren’t waiting. They were leaving. Impatient. Frustrated.

One guy even shouted at me, ‘Why is this taking so long?’ before storming off to the jerk chicken stall.”

A few heads nodded knowingly around the room. They had been there.

Tunde swallowed hard. “And then, the cost of everything went up. Chicken, oil, plantain—prices skyrocketed. I didn’t want to raise my prices because I thought, If I charge more, no one will buy. So I tried cutting costs. Changed suppliers.

The suya didn’t taste the same. The puff puff was different. Customers noticed. One woman took a bite, frowned, and threw it straight in the bin.”

A collective wince moved through the group.

The Stubborn Mistakes That Sealed His Fate

“My friend Kemi tried to help. She told me to focus on what was selling—suya and peri peri chicken—and introduce a combo deal for customers on a budget. But I didn’t listen.

I kept saying, ‘We’re a Nigerian street food kiosk. We can’t just sell suya and chicken.’ I was stubborn. I had a vision, and I refused to change it. I wanted to remain true to what I thought the business should be.

But customers? They were making it clear what they wanted.”

His shoulders slumped. “Sales dropped. I’d stand at my kiosk, watching other food stalls, hearing their customers laughing, chatting, enjoying their food. My stall? Empty. Then the suppliers started calling. ‘Payment overdue.’ My stomach would twist every time my phone buzzed.”

A pause. Then, his voice barely above a whisper. “I started resenting going to the market. Watching people at the jerk chicken stall, eating, laughing, enjoying their food. And I kept thinking… They got it right. Where did I go wrong?”

Tunde straightened slightly, forcing himself to meet their gazes. “I need your help. I don’t know what to do next. I don’t even know if I should try again. I thought I was building a business, but all I did was create a mess. So… what now?”

The room remained still, the weight of his words settling in. Tunde stood there, waiting, hoping that someone—anyone—had an answer.

The Rise, Fall, and Reinvention of Chicken Republic

The Spark That Started It All

Before Chicken Republic became a household name, Nigeria’s fast-food scene had two extremes—global giants like KFC and everyday mama put vendors selling local meals at affordable prices. There was no middle ground.

Food Concepts Plc saw an opportunity. They launched Chicken Republic in 2004, positioning it as a Western-style fast-food brand with crispy fried chicken and chips. They aimed to redefine fast food in Nigeria, believing they could introduce a new dining culture.

They moved fast, opening multiple locations, confident they had a winning formula.

But then, reality hit.

The Struggles Begin

Customers walked into Chicken Republic, but instead of ordering, they asked one question:

“Where’s the rice?”

At first, the company dismissed it. They believed Nigerians would eventually embrace the Western-style menu. But instead, customers walked out.

The problem ran deeper. Chicken Republic wasn’t just competing with KFC or other structured fast-food chains. Their biggest competition was the thousands of local food vendors selling jollof rice, fried rice, and traditional meals at lower prices.

Customers didn’t just want fried chicken—they wanted full, satisfying meals.

At the same time, Chicken Republic struggled with pricing. Their meals were too expensive for the average Nigerian but not premium enough to compete with KFC. They were stuck in the middle.

Sales dropped. Expansion slowed. Stores struggled to stay afloat.

The Breaking Point

Chicken Republic had two choices:

1. Stick to their original idea and watch sales decline.
2. Listen to customers, adapt, and change their approach.

They chose to pivot.

The Turnaround Strategy

Instead of forcing a Western-style menu, Chicken Republic made a bold shift:

• They adapted their menu. They introduced jollof rice, fried rice, and Nigerian-style meal combos. Fried chicken was still the star, but now it came with familiar flavours that customers wanted.
• They redefined their brand. Instead of positioning themselves as a direct competitor to KFC, they leaned into their Nigerian identity. They weren’t just selling chicken—they were offering comfort food with a local twist.
• They introduced the ‘Refuel Meal’. This low-cost rice and chicken combo became a game-changer. It allowed students, workers, and everyday Nigerians to enjoy fast food without breaking the bank.
• They improved efficiency. Speed became a priority. They optimised kitchen processes to ensure customers weren’t waiting too long—mirroring the fast service of local vendors.
• They doubled down on marketing. Chicken Republic became a relatable, people-first brand, using digital marketing and promotions to connect with customers.

The Transformation

These changes didn’t just stop the decline—they fuelled growth. Chicken Republic went from struggling to competing. Today, with over 100 outlets and growing, they are a dominant force in Nigeria’s fast-food industry.

Babs paused. “Tunde, do you see the lesson here?”

Tunde nodded slowly. “They stopped forcing their vision and started listening to what the market wanted.”

“Exactly.” Babs leaned back. “Too many small businesses assume they can’t implement strategies because they lack funding. But Chicken Republic didn’t turn things around with a massive budget—they did it by making smart changes. And those changes are just as possible for a one-man business as they are for a corporation.”

Lessons for Small Business Owners

✅ Your vision is important, but if customers aren’t buying, you need to pivot.
✅ Price positioning matters—find a way to serve different income levels.
✅ Customers don’t care about what you want to sell; they care about what they want to buy.
✅ Operational efficiency isn’t just for big businesses—it’s the difference between keeping and losing customers.
✅ Branding and marketing aren’t luxuries; they are necessary for survival.

Babs looked around the group. “We’re going to break these down. Over the next few days, we’ll take a closer look at how Chicken Republic executed each of these strategies—and how you can apply them to your business.”

Tunde exhaled, a flicker of something new in his expression.

Hope.