Subscribe to our Newsletter

They say all good things must come to an end, but some end far too soon, leaving a void that feels undeserved. OkadaBooks was one such thing.

On November 20, 2023, OkadaBooks, Nigeria’s pioneering digital publishing platform announced that it would be closing its virtual doors for good at the end of the month. True to their word, OkadaBooks shut down on November 30, leaving a profound impact on the literary community. The announcement reverberated through the industry, catching book lovers, literature enthusiasts, and even traditional publishing houses off guard. It was the suddenness, the finality of the decision, that hit so hard. As Bisi, a long-time fan of the platform, expressed, “I was shocked and couldn’t believe the news.” Many shared her sentiments at the time.

In the months that followed, hope lingered that the platform’s iconic motorcycle mascot might one day make a triumphant return. But a year has passed, and that day has yet to come. In the meantime, the macroeconomic challenges alluded to as one of the reasons for OkadaBooks’ closure have only worsened, casting a long shadow over any dreams of a revival. Aduke*, another supporter, still holds on to a glimmer of hope. “They left a wide vacuum that still hasn’t been filled,” she says.

A Journey Fueled by Passion

OkadaBooks wasn’t just a business—it was a solution to a problem. Founded by Okechukwu Ofili, a mechanical engineer trained at the University of Houston, the platform emerged out of personal frustration with Nigeria’s traditional publishing industry. After struggling to get paid by a local bookstore for his book, Ofili set out to create a digital alternative that could bypass the usual challenges. The name OkadaBooks was inspired by the nimble ‘okada’ motorcycles weaving through Lagos traffic, offering a quicker, more efficient way to reach readers.

For a decade, OkadaBooks redefined reading and publishing in Nigeria. It became a haven for emerging writers, providing them with a platform, a loyal audience, and fair compensation. And for readers, it was a slice of heaven at their fingertips. “Countless books on your phone, from the comfort of your couch,” read one of OkadaBooks’ early days ad campaigns. The app’s simplicity and functionality helped make reading mainstream and accessible to a new generation.

“There was nothing like it. It was amazing,” says Jennifer*, who discovered OkadaBooks as an English student at the University of Lagos in 2015. As someone who grew up reading her father’s books but had to balance a tight student budget, the platform was a godsend. “Suddenly I had all these books available to me. New voices and relatable stories. I liked some more than others, but overall I was grateful for the platform. I was reading for free, and that meant the world to me at the time.”

The Free Book Debate

However, not everyone agrees that OkadaBooks was faultless in its approach. Nnamdi*, a product marketer, believes that allowing free books on the platform hurt the company’s long-term sustainability. “In Nigeria? Getting people to pay later will always be a challenge,” he says. Indeed, up until its closure, OkadaBooks allowed a combination of paid and free books, with authors able to offer their books at no charge if they so wished. The platform earned a 30% commission on priced books but bore the hosting and other logistical burdens of the ones hosted for free.

By 2023, OkadaBooks had published over 40,000 books, yet data suggests only 52% of those were priced titles. Ade, another observer, feels the criticism is fair but somewhat harsh. “They did what they thought was best at the time, and it helped everyone. But maybe they should have adjusted their business model sooner rather than closing down.”

The comments on OkadaBooks’ farewell Instagram post echo this sentiment. Many asked why the company would rather close than sell the business, with some even offering to buy the platform if it meant keeping it alive. Bola*, a best-selling author on OkadaBooks, admits she briefly considered making an offer herself. “I wasn’t sure what I’d do with it, but I knew I wanted its doors to stay open,” she laughs. “One year later, if I had enough money, I’d buy it in a heartbeat just so it comes back.”

A Divided Legacy

Not everyone remembers OkadaBooks fondly. Ajoke, a writer, is among those who believe the platform got what it deserved due to repeated cases of neglect and its dismissive treatment of its authors. “I don’t really care,” she says. “I left and was fine without them when they were still operating, and I’m even better off now. If you’re not serious about business and treat your authors like trash, you either step aside for others or nature steps in. I guess nature had to step in.”

Nevertheless, OkadaBooks was the first of its kind in Nigeria, launching in 2013 at a time when digital publishing was almost unheard of. It would be five years before Bambooks, its most serious competition, entered the market. Since OkadaBooks’ exit, Bambooks has tried to fill the gap, but some, like Ben, feel it hasn’t lived up to expectations. Ejiro, on the other hand, believes the challenges are the same for everyone. “The economy is tough. People are barely getting by, so spending on books is hard. I hope Bambooks sticks around for a while, especially with OkadaBooks gone.”

The Future of Digital Publishing in Nigeria

Apart from Bambooks, platforms like Selar and Iko Africa have also stepped in to keep the spirit of digital publishing alive in Nigeria. So, it’s safe to say that while the niche may be walking a fine line between survival and extinction, it hasn’t disappeared. The scene shows flickers of life, but more needs to happen for it to thrive—a lot more if digital publishing is ever to regain the momentum OkadaBooks once kindled.

The truth is, OkadaBooks didn’t just serve a market; it served a movement. For nearly a decade, it stood as a beacon for those who dared to dream, to write, to read, and to believe in a uniquely African literary space. It thrived not on a lucrative model, but on the sheer power of community and a belief that every story, no matter how small, deserved a place to be read. And in the end, perhaps it was the weight of that dream, coupled with a lack of sustainable support, that led it to fall.

As we look back one year after its closure, OkadaBooks’ legacy echoes as a reminder of both the fragility and the promise of innovation in challenging environments. Its fall tells us that passion alone cannot sustain an industry, but it also reminds us of what’s possible when vision, resilience, and community come together. The Nigerian digital publishing space may still be standing at a crossroads, but thanks to pioneers like OkadaBooks, there’s a path laid down for others to follow.

It’s a road that will demand new visionaries willing to pick up the torch, innovate in ways that transcend economic hardship, and believe that stories are worth fighting for—even when the odds seem insurmountable. And though OkadaBooks is gone, its spirit endures in every writer, reader, and platform daring to carry the story forward.