Yet, as the company’s presence expanded, so too did the visibility of its missteps. Unlike fledgling brands, whose errors may go unnoticed, Glovo had reached a level of ubiquity where every operational hiccup, every delay, and every perceived lapse in accountability would be magnified. In the closing weeks of 2025, the platform found itself at the center of public scrutiny, as complaints, criticism, and intense social media commentary converged to test not just Glovo’s crisis management, but the trust that underpins all platform businesses.
A Hausa proverb captures the stakes of this moment perfectly: “Ga fili, ga doki”—literally, “here is the field, and here is the horse.” It is a saying that reflects both the clarity of the challenge and the potential for opportunity, but emphasizes that success depends entirely on performance. For Glovo Nigeria, the field has never seemed more precarious, and the horse’s stride never more uncertain.
The Rise of a Yellow Giant
To understand why the current turbulence is so consequential, it helps to look at the heights Glovo reached in just a few years. Launching in Nigeria in July 2021, Glovo entered a market teeming with opportunity. The company arrived with the backing of its global parent, Delivery Hero, and a vision to redefine how Nigerians shop, pay, and consume on demand.
The growth was striking. By 2024, Glovo had generated over ₦71 billion in revenue for its local partners and was supporting more than 6,000 shops and restaurants across 11 Nigerian cities. Its quick commerce segment alone experienced 76% year-over-year growth, cementing the platform as a cornerstone of the country’s emerging digital economy.
The impact was not just financial. By mid‑2025, Glovo Nigeria employed roughly 2,400 riders, many earning two to three times the national minimum wage. The platform had also facilitated a dramatic shift toward cashless transactions, with digital payments rising from 12% of orders in 2021 to 61% by 2024.
In June 2025, as Glovo marked its 10th anniversary globally, General Manager Lamide Akinola described Nigeria as “a vital engine for our next decade of impact.” Yet beneath the surface of bold branding and optimistic projections, operational strains were emerging—logistical challenges, complaints from riders and customers, and questions about the platform’s long-term sustainability. By December 2025, these strains erupted into a full-blown reputational test, placing Glovo’s carefully cultivated trust under intense scrutiny.
Navigating the Field
Glovo’s current predicament underscores a universal truth for tech platforms: success brings visibility, and visibility brings accountability. The very factors that fueled its rapid adoption—the convenience, speed, and reliability—are now the same metrics by which the brand is being judged under pressure. Every misstep is amplified, every pause interpreted, and every public response dissected.
For Glovo Nigeria, the challenge is clear. The company must reconcile the promise of its early growth with the reality of public expectations, operational realities, and the evolving landscape of digital commerce in the country. The opportunity remains, but only if it can align performance with the high standards that its customers and partners now demand.
As the proverb reminds us, the field is before the horse, and success will come only to those who can navigate it with skill, speed, and consistency. For Glovo Nigeria, the coming months will be a decisive test of whether a yellow giant can maintain its stride amid turbulence—or risk a fall that could reshape its trajectory in the country forever.
The First Storm: Wig Snatching and the Brand in the Crossfire
Glovo’s first major reputational test in Nigeria was as bizarre as it was unsettling. In late 2025, social media platforms—TikTok, X (formerly Twitter), and Instagram—began to fill with reports of motorcycle riders, donning Glovo-branded gear, allegedly snatching expensive wigs from women on the streets.
One TikTok user, Kemzrealtor, recounted how her wig was pulled off along Yabatech Road, claiming that the person involved was wearing Glovo colors. Her video called on both the company and Lagos State authorities to intervene. Soon after, similar videos surfaced: riders allegedly seizing wigs while women tried to cross streets, with many users reporting their own experiences.
From a strictly operational perspective, wig snatching has nothing to do with food or package delivery. Yet brands do not operate in silos. In the eyes of the public, Glovo riders are Glovo. Uniforms, helmets, and delivery bags are mobile extensions of the brand. Any criminal activity linked to them—whether by actual employees or opportunistic impersonators—casts a shadow over the company. In the court of public opinion, perception often becomes reality.
What compounded the issue was Glovo’s silence. No statements were issued, no investigation was announced, and the company made no visible effort to distance itself from the alleged acts or to show concern for victims. That inaction would prove costly, setting a precedent of reactive rather than proactive crisis management—an approach that would amplify the damage when an even more severe scandal emerged weeks later.
The Second Storm: Corporate Ewa Agoyin Scandal
If wig snatching rattled nerves, the Corporate Ewa Agoyin scandal shook the platform to its core. On December 29, Adeola Ademola, the owner of the Lagos-based food brand Corporate Ewa Agoyin, went public with a series of videos and social media posts describing what she called a year-long ordeal with Glovo. Her claims included allegations that the company ignored repeated warnings about impersonation of her business on the platform and, more alarmingly, that some customers had received meals prepared under unverified and potentially unsafe conditions.
The allegations struck at the heart of Glovo’s promise: trust. Marketplace platforms like Glovo depend entirely on the confidence of both vendors and customers. Consumers trust that listed vendors are authentic and that the food they order meets basic safety standards. Vendors trust that their brand equity will be respected and not exploited. Once either of those assurances falters, the business model itself is threatened.
The fallout was swift and widespread. Social media erupted with similar claims from other vendors and customers, suggesting that Corporate Ewa’s case was not isolated. In an instant, Glovo’s image as a reliable, convenient, and safe platform was called into question. Analysts—if the company were publicly listed locally—would have flagged this as a material risk, highlighting how reputational trust directly drives both engagement and revenue.
The twin crises of wig snatching and corporate impersonation exposed a fundamental vulnerability: while Glovo had thrived on rapid growth and technological efficiency, its crisis management infrastructure and brand protection mechanisms lagged behind its public prominence. The platform now faced the challenge of not just restoring confidence, but proving that the systems and processes that underpin its business were robust enough to prevent future missteps.
A Statement Too Little, Too Late
As the New Year approached, mounting public pressure finally compelled Glovo Nigeria to break its silence. On December 31, 2025—the last day of the calendar year, almost as if hoping the scandal would vanish with it—the company issued what it termed a “holding statement.”
The statement read:
“Glovo is aware of a recent social media post about our organisation. Pending a full investigation, we have immediately delisted the vendor from our platform.
As a company, we have built a technology platform that connects customers with independent, third-party restaurants, merchants and riders. We take issues related to brand misuse, customer trust, and platform integrity very seriously. Our core mission is to provide a marketplace built on trust and authenticity.
We remain committed to protecting both our users and the hardworking merchants who make our ecosystem thrive.”
At first glance, the statement ticked the familiar boxes of crisis communication: acknowledgment, action, and reassurance. Yet, for communications experts and observers, the gaps were glaring.
The release carried no signature, no attribution to a specific executive or department. Critics quickly seized upon this omission, interpreting it as either institutional evasiveness or tacit acknowledgment of systemic responsibility no one wanted to own. More importantly, the statement skirted the deeper issues that had transformed a vendor complaint into a full-blown crisis of public trust. There was no apology to Corporate Ewa Agoyin for the disruption to her business, no explanation of how impersonation could persist for months, and no roadmap for preventing similar breaches in the future.
Expert Voices Weigh In
Industry and communications experts were swift to dissect Glovo’s response, emphasizing that the company’s reputational exposure was not merely about the incidents themselves but about broader perceptions of platform integrity.
Chinwendu Ohakpougwu, a communications strategist, captured this perspective in a widely circulated LinkedIn post titled, “When a Marketplace Crisis Isn’t About PR—But Platform Trust.” She observed:
“Every platform eventually faces a crisis; but not every crisis is actually about the incident. What unfolded on social media wasn’t just anger. It was something deeper and more dangerous for any marketplace business: a rupture in perceived platform integrity.”
Chinwendu acknowledged that Glovo’s statement achieved certain legal and operational objectives: clarifying the company’s structure, showing swift action, and avoiding premature liability. But she noted a critical shortcoming:
“From a trust-building standpoint, it left gaps. The statement did not directly engage the core anxieties driving public reaction: safety, impersonation, and recurrence risk. In crises involving safety or deception, stakeholders are evaluating not only facts but whether the platform understands human impact, whether controls are sufficient at scale, and whether accountability is proactive or reactive. Generic language may reduce legal exposure, but it often increases perceived distance. And distance is costly in trust-based businesses.”
Other experts echoed similar sentiments. Efe Obiomah emphasized that a holding statement is only the first step in crisis management, not a complete solution. “I like to believe their PR team knows this and is working on restoring trust,” he said.
A more nuanced defense came from Evelyn Temitope Isioye, a policy research consultant and sustainability reporting advisor. She argued that the statement achieved key initial objectives by acknowledging the issue and signaling a commitment to investigate.
“While the situation boils down to a trust issue, their first response appears to have done what a first step in strategic crisis management should: proactively assuring stakeholders while being transparent about the existence of the issue. Clearly stating an ongoing investigation is critical in identifying where and how trust was broken, enabling a proper RACI analysis for action. What some interpret as a lack of empathy is sometimes simply a strategic delay, ensuring responses consider all stakeholders rather than reacting prematurely to social media pressure.”
Even with these defenses, the broader consensus was clear: Glovo’s initial response, while technically adequate, fell short of fully restoring confidence. For a platform that had become deeply integrated into urban Nigerian life, rebuilding trust would require more than legal safeguards or generic reassurances. It would demand visible accountability, demonstrable systemic fixes, and a communication approach that recognized both human and operational stakes.
Missed Opportunities and Hard Lessons
Even as some defended Glovo’s cautious initial response, others argued that the company had missed a rare chance to turn crisis into brand elevation.
Abayomi Benson, MD/CEO of Culture Communications Limited, framed the moment as a potential “brand-defining opportunity.” He argued:
“With genuine empathy, Glovo could have reverified and reactivated the merchant, delivered outstanding support, and turned the experience into a story of redemption. That gratitude, amplified through word of mouth, could have elevated the brand to true reverence. Instead, they chose the easier but predictable path.”
Chinwendu Ohakpougwu acknowledged the point but highlighted the tension between idealistic crisis management and practical risk mitigation:
“Redemption narratives require certainty. When allegations involve safety, impersonation, or potential consumer harm, platforms must prioritise containment and verification before storytelling. Reinstatement without full clarity could amplify risk.”
She added, however, that the opportunity for trust-building still exists:
“Once facts are established, how a platform supports affected merchants, and whether it turns remediation into learning, becomes the true trust signal. That opportunity sits firmly in what Glovo does after the investigation, not in the first response.”
Joshua Chukwu, a Digital Transformation Consultant, framed the debate in structural terms.
“Whether or not responsibility is formally assumed, it is publicly assigned. In high-growth, low-trust environments, the platform is the validator. It’s an implicit part of the business model,” he wrote. He suggested that Glovo’s crisis was less a communications misstep and more a symptom of deeper operational and governance weaknesses.
Abigail Olupese, an HR Business Partner and education advocate, focused on the company’s failure to safeguard the most important stakeholder: the legitimate business owner.
“Just putting out a statement is not enough; people are genuinely concerned about what they eat. Glovo needs to apologize to the public and the business that was misrepresented, because the vendor had written to them multiple times, yet nothing was done until she went to the internet,” she noted.
Abigail further highlighted an alarming detail:
“The vendor NEVER listed on Glovo. Imagine!”
She also observed a troubling discrepancy in the statement:
“The press statement only admits to one vendor, whereas there are countless others. This appears to be a shadow act under crisis management.”
Her conclusion was damning:
“The gravity of this crime of theirs is enough to ground their operations for life in a sane country.”
A Pattern of Bigger Problems
The Corporate Ewa scandal and wig-snatching allegations were not isolated incidents. They were the most visible symptoms of deeper operational and structural weaknesses underlying Glovo’s rapid growth.
A 2025 sentiment analysis of Nigerian food delivery apps conducted by researcher Anselem Kadiri found that Glovo Nigeria had generated 169 negative reviews on the Google Play Store alone. App experience problems appeared in 51 reviews, payment issues in 41, and delayed deliveries in 38, suggesting persistent operational pain points.
The company’s challenges were not confined to Nigeria. In June 2025, the European Commission fined Glovo and its parent company Delivery Hero a combined €329 million for antitrust violations. In Morocco, regulators forced the company to settle over allegations of market dominance abuse, exclusivity clauses, and predatory pricing. In May 2024, Glovo exited Ghana, citing a “reassessment of investment priorities”—a euphemism industry analysts interpreted as masking operational and profitability challenges.
Taken together, a clear pattern emerges: Glovo’s rapid global expansion—23 markets and 1,800 cities since 2015—had outpaced its ability to maintain consistent quality control and platform integrity. In Nigeria, the company’s promise to connect consumers to verified, trustworthy merchants was undermined by verification processes that appeared perfunctory at best and dangerously lax at worst. The platform’s operational and governance gaps, once invisible during growth, became painfully clear when exposed to intense public scrutiny.
Here’s a polished, article-style rewrite of your final section, integrating narrative flow, actionable recommendations, and tying it back to your “ga fili, ga doki” framing:
What Glovo Must Do Now: Rebuilding Trust Before It’s Too Late
The path forward for Glovo Nigeria demands more than statements or ongoing investigations. As Chinwendu Ohakpougwu and other experts have emphasized, this moment calls for a fundamental reimagining of how trust is embedded into platform architecture.
Complete the investigation transparently. Glovo must swiftly conclude its probe and communicate the findings openly. This isn’t just about the Corporate Ewa Agoyin case—it’s about revealing the full scope of the impersonation problem. How many fake listings existed? For how long? How much revenue did they generate? Only by acknowledging the full extent of the issue can Glovo begin to rebuild credibility with both consumers and merchants.
Reimagine vendor verification. Trust begins at the point of onboarding. The platform must implement visible, systematic changes: requiring formal business registration documents, conducting physical location verifications, enhancing intellectual property checks, and introducing verification badges for authentic merchants. Customers should be able to identify, at a glance, which vendors have been thoroughly vetted.
Establish robust merchant support channels. Corporate Ewa’s complaints went largely unaddressed for months—a lapse that proved disastrous. Glovo must create dedicated teams to handle brand protection issues, with clear escalation paths, defined response timelines, and accountability for follow-through.
Introduce a merchant protection program. The company should consider proactive support for small and medium businesses vulnerable to impersonation, including monitoring services, legal assistance for intellectual property protection, and fast-track resolution mechanisms when problems arise.
Shift from growth-first to trust-first. Rapid expansion and high transaction volumes are meaningless if the trust infrastructure cannot keep pace. Cutting corners on verification to onboard vendors faster creates what experts call “trust debt”—a liability that can quickly outweigh short-term growth gains. Sustainable success depends on prioritizing trust as the foundational business metric.
‘Ga fili, ga doki’
The Hausa proverb—“ga fili, ga doki”—frames this moment perfectly: here is the field, here is the horse. For Glovo, the crisis of trust is also a moment of opportunity. If the company acts decisively, with transparency, systemic reforms, and a commitment to merchant and consumer confidence, it can emerge stronger, transforming a public failure into a benchmark for platform integrity.
The alternative is slow erosion. Trust-conscious consumers may migrate to competitors. Merchants may hesitate to list on a platform associated with impersonation and negligence. Regulators could intervene as Glovo is seen as unable—or unwilling—to police its own marketplace.
Glovo built its brand on convenience and speed. But trust operates on a different timeline: it accumulates through countless positive interactions, and it can evaporate instantly through a single high-profile failure—or a pattern of neglect. Cosmetic fixes, legal posturing, or the hope that social media storms blow over are insufficient. Trust is the product in marketplace businesses, and Glovo must invest in it intentionally.
This path is harder, costlier, and less immediately gratifying. It requires humility, resources, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths: that rapid growth in Nigeria has been built on unstable foundations, that shortcuts in verification and complaint management created systemic vulnerabilities, and that trust must be earned—not assumed.
Ga fili, ga doki. Here is the field—a rupture in platform integrity and a crisis of trust. Here is the horse—a company with technology, resources, and market position. The question now is whether Glovo has the courage to ride.