In 2019, ordering meals online in the Delta State capital was still largely impractical. The major startups of the time were laser-focused on Lagos and Abuja, where dense populations, faster lifestyles, and higher spending power made logistics easier to scale. Mid-sized cities in southern Nigeria were largely left behind.
“Most venture-backed food delivery startups were focused on Lagos and Abuja,” Nweze recalled, pointing to the structural blind spot that shaped his thinking.
A computer science graduate with a history of experimental startups—including a failed attempt at a local forum competitor to Nairaland and an email service called Vmail—he decided to go hyperlocal instead of hyperambitious. Together with Adinnu Benedict, Chiedu Victor, and Abanum Chukwuyenum, all software developers, he launched OliliFood in February 2020 with just two restaurants and two riders.
When a Pandemic Became an Unexpected Accelerator
Barely weeks after launch, COVID-19 lockdowns reshaped the global economy. For many startups, it was a moment of collapse. For OliliFood, it became an unexpected runway.
Food delivery, suddenly classified as an essential service, remained operational even as movement restrictions shut down much of daily life.
“The lockdown made us realise delivery can work,” Nweze said. “We were able to serve the people of Asaba while many vendors cooked from home.”
Restaurants that once depended on physical walk-ins were forced to adapt, and OliliFood found its first real wave of demand.
By late 2020, the company had built a mobile app and expanded into Warri, another underserved southern city.
But the early optimism quickly collided with structural reality: small cities do not behave like Lagos.
The Economics of Small Cities: Growth Without Density
Food delivery thrives on repetition, density, and speed—conditions that are far weaker outside Nigeria’s largest commercial hubs. In Asaba and similar cities, many residents live closer to their workplaces, spend less on convenience services, and order food less frequently.
That reality created a persistent growth ceiling.
“Breaking even in a small city is quite challenging,” Nweze said. “If we had hoped to break even in the near future, I think we would have closed the business.”
Unlike heavily funded competitors, OliliFood survived by bootstrapping and cross-subsidising its operations with other ventures built by the founders. These included Vent Africa, a crypto and fintech platform launched in 2021, and Hizo, a cross-border FX service.
Revenue from those businesses kept the food delivery arm alive during periods when it could not sustain itself.
Inflation, Fuel, and the Hard Cost of Delivery
As Nigeria’s inflationary pressures deepened in recent years, operational costs surged across the board. Motorcycles that once cost around ₦300,000 ($219) later rose to as high as ₦1.8 million ($1,313). Then came the removal of the petrol subsidy in 2023, which sharply increased fuel costs.
For a delivery startup, those changes were existential.
OliliFood responded by redesigning its logistics model. Instead of relying solely on owned riders, it adopted a hybrid structure combining in-house delivery staff with third-party logistics operators.
“You cannot rely fully on your in-house logistics, and you cannot rely fully on third-party logistics,” Nweze said. “There has to be a balance.”
The company also changed its rider compensation structure after discovering inefficiencies in its earlier model, where fuel allowances were sometimes misused.
“We’ve been able to create a model that checks these riders compared to when we were buying fuel for them,” he said.
Now, riders earn a base salary plus commissions per completed delivery, while handling fuel costs themselves.
Six Years Later: Modest Scale, Surviving Infrastructure
Over six years, OliliFood—now rebranded as Trazo—has processed more than 120,000 orders and generated about ₦2 billion ($1.5 million) in gross merchandise value across Asaba and Warri.
It currently serves roughly 25,000 registered users, though only around 500 are active monthly customers. The logistics network consists of about 20 riders, split between five in-house staff and 15 third-party partners.
On paper, the scale remains modest compared to Nigeria’s leading delivery platforms. But survival in these markets, the founders argue, is itself part of the product.
The Rebrand: Why OliliFood Had to Become Trazo
The decision to rebrand was not cosmetic. It marked a strategic reset.
Trazo is preparing to expand beyond restaurant delivery into groceries, pharmaceuticals, household essentials, gas refills, and eventually services like cleaning and spa bookings.
“The app itself couldn’t go full scale into other cities because of how it was built,” Nweze said. “And the name also limited us.”
He added that “Olili,” derived from an Igbo expression associated with feasting, no longer fit a platform aiming to move beyond food.
Entering a Different League: Lagos, Abuja, and the Giants Ahead
Trazo’s next ambition is significantly more aggressive: expansion into Lagos and Abuja by early 2027.
That means entering markets already dominated by heavily capitalized players.
Glovo, for instance, has delivered tens of millions of items in Nigeria and operates across multiple cities with thousands of riders. Chowdeck, one of Nigeria’s fastest-growing startups, has expanded rapidly with strong investor backing and a large rider network spanning multiple urban centres.
Nigeria’s food delivery market, valued at about $1.14 billion in 2025, is already shaped by this concentration of scale and funding advantage in Lagos.
Against that backdrop, Trazo’s current footprint—500 monthly active users and a 20-rider network—places it in a very different competitive category.
The Case for Starting Small: “Coming Second” as Strategy
Nweze argues that building in smaller cities created operational resilience that Lagos-first startups often do not develop early.
“If a business in Lagos chooses to come down to Asaba, it will be easier for them to fail than for [Trazo] to go to Lagos,” he said. “When you have a startup that has faced a whole lot of environmental factors and limitations, and [is] still able to scale through it, what happens when [it] goes to a more ecosystem-friendly market?”
The company’s unit economics reflect that philosophy. Average orders range between ₦15,000 ($11) and ₦20,000 ($15), with delivery costs averaging around ₦2,500 ($1.82).
Building a Map Where Maps Don’t Work
One of Trazo’s more unusual bets is not just logistics—but geography itself.
In many Nigerian cities, addressing systems remain inconsistent, and digital maps lag behind rapid urban growth.
“Nigeria’s cities are not properly geomapped; one major problem is that when new roads or locations emerge, they are often not updated quickly on Google Maps,” Nweze said.
To address this, Trazo is building an AI-driven mapping system powered by its delivery data, designed to improve accuracy over time as riders and customers interact with the platform.
Average delivery times currently sit at around 40 minutes, with location accuracy and vendor preparation speed identified as key bottlenecks.
The company has also introduced a “pay-for-me” feature, allowing users to place and pay for orders on behalf of others—part of a broader push into everyday utility services rather than pure food delivery.
Bootstrapped Expansion and a High-Risk Bet on Experience
Unlike many competitors in the sector, Trazo is expanding without external venture capital. It remains fully bootstrapped and is not actively seeking funding, according to Nweze.
That independence comes with constraints, but also reinforces the company’s emphasis on efficiency over scale-at-all-costs growth.
“We almost shut down,” Nweze said. “But staying in these cities taught us how to build lean, manage logistics, and understand delivery from the ground up. Now we believe it’s time to grow.”
Whether that experience translates into success in Lagos and Abuja remains uncertain. But Trazo is betting that surviving where demand is thin may be its strongest advantage in markets where demand is fierce.