Babs Ogundeyi sold his land to buy a bank for Kuda

The hustle began long before the sleek apps and the millions in venture capital. For

, the path to building
Kuda
didn't start in a Silicon Valley garage, but in the early morning dampness of
Nigeria
. Before he was a fintech titan, he was a guy waking up at 4:00 a.m. to physically insert flyers into national newspapers. He wasn't just distributing paper; he was testing a hypothesis: would people trust a digital-only financial institution in a market where trust is the most expensive currency? This wasn't about high-level strategy yet; it was about the raw, unvarnished grit of an entrepreneur looking for a signal in the noise.

His background provided the perfect fuel for this fire. After a stint at

and serving as a special advisor to the Nigerian government, Ogundeyi saw the friction in the system firsthand. He realized that traditional banking was a walled garden for the elite, leaving the vast majority of the population fighting for scraps. The vision was clear: build a bank that was affordable, accessible, and designed for the mobile-first reality of modern
Africa
. But a vision without a license is just a dream, and in the highly regulated world of finance, that's where most startups die.

Betting the farm on a microfinance license

Most founders talk about skin in the game, but Ogundeyi took it literally. To bypass the agonizing two-to-three-year wait for a fresh banking license, he took a calculated, high-stakes gamble. He sold his personal land in Nigeria to acquire an existing microfinance bank. It was a move that required absolute conviction. By purchasing the institution, he didn't just get a piece of paper; he got the regulatory permission to take deposits and issue credit from day one. This maneuver transformed

from a marketing experiment into a legitimate financial powerhouse overnight. It was the ultimate "burn the boats" moment.

This acquisition was the pivot point. It allowed him to convince his co-founder and CTO to leave a stable, prestigious banking job for the uncertainty of a startup. When you see a founder liquidate their own assets to fund a regulatory hurdle, it sends a message that no pitch deck ever could. They weren't just building an app; they were re-engineering the financial infrastructure of a continent. With the license secured, they rebranded the entity to

and began the grueling process of building a tech stack that could handle the scale they knew was coming.

Babs Ogundeyi sold his land to buy a bank for Kuda
Babs Ogundeyi, Founder & CEO @ Kuda

Growth hacks and the illusion of scale

Scaling in an emerging market isn't just about code; it's about solving physical problems that don't exist in London or New York. When

decided to issue physical debit cards, they didn't have a reliable national mail system to lean on. They had to build creative logistics solutions, using landmarks and descriptive directions because standardized addressing is often a luxury. They focused on creating an "illusion of scale" from the beginning, investing in brand tone and a professional image that made the startup feel like a global institution even when they were still working out of a small study.

The growth was explosive. By focusing on P2P transfers and high-interest savings—products that addressed immediate pain points for Nigerians—they moved from their first 100 customers to a staggering six million. The strategy shifted from "growth at all costs" to building a sustainable monster. Today,

processes roughly $4.5 billion in monthly transaction value. This isn't just a vanity metric; it’s proof of a deep product-market fit in a geography that punishes inefficiency. They realized early on that in
Africa
, being a "bank" is more lucrative than being a "fintech layer" because the returns on credit and government bonds in emerging markets are significantly higher than in developed economies.

Navigating the lonely road of the visionary

Entrepreneurship is a relentless assault on the psyche, and Ogundeyi is vocal about the need for emotional fortifications. He champions the idea of "naive courage"—the ability to move forward despite knowing the odds are stacked against you. But he warns that this journey shouldn't be walked alone. Building a founding team isn't just about distributed workloads; it’s about having a group of believers who can provide emotional inspiration when the inevitable doubts creep in. For

, the team members who stood in his study in the early days are still the backbone of the company today.

Success at this scale brings a different kind of pressure. With 500 employees and millions of families depending on the platform, the stakes have shifted from survival to institutionalization. Yet, Ogundeyi maintains that the core of his strategy remains simple: research the market, find the friction, and be prepared for the opportunity. Whether it’s scheduled calls to his parents to stay grounded or a relentless focus on unit economics, the goal is to build something that outlasts the hype. The

story is a masterclass in how to disrupt a rigid industry by being more prepared, more daring, and more resilient than the incumbents ever thought possible.

5 min read