Explore

Blog Funding data Our vision About

Programmes

Stories Cableheads Cable Campus The Circuit Transformers

Tools

CableMatch RaiseScore

Playbooks

Fundraising playbook ₦0 to First Customer Before You Start A Business Case studies Coming soon

Courses and training

Live training Self-paced courses Coming soon

Books and merch

The Dear Founder series Coming soon Founders Cable merch Coming soon See everything in Resources Join Cableheads
← Blog · Builder Watch

The game that took one night, and years

Watch the documentaryThe full story on the Founders Cable YouTube channel

On the night before Nigeria's Independence Day, a Nigerian developer living in the UK sat down to build a game.

She says she started around 9pm. By 5am it was ready, but she felt it was too early to release, so she took a nap. Around 7, still sleepy, she posted the link on X and went back to sleep.

When she woke up at 10, she says, it was trending.

The game is Lagos Life, and its developer is Shalom Mathew (@Shalom_HeyEliy), a Nigerian software developer based in the UK. It's a Sims-style life game set in a virtual Lagos. You ride danfo, chop amala at Shitta, party at Quilox, and yes, the power goes off. By the game's own count, it passed a million players within four days of launching on 1 October, with more than 100,000 players online at once.

The headlines all said the same thing: it went viral. That's not an explanation.

We wanted to know what happened underneath.

Lagos games are not new

Here is the part most of the coverage skipped. Lagos has been a video game before. Many times.

In 2007, Bayo Puddicombe built Danfo, a game about driving the yellow buses of Lagos. ChopUp, the studio behind it, says the series reached more than 700,000 players. In 2012, Maliyo Games launched Okada Ride. In 2016 came Gidi Run, paid for with MTN airtime, and Aboki Run, the first Nigerian game featured on Google Play. In 2025, a three-person studio released Idansquest, a runner about life after university in Lagos.

These were real games, made by serious people. Almost every one of them depended on a single road to reach players. Danfo spread on basic Java phones. Gidi Run charged through one mobile network. Aboki Run got its biggest push when Google Play featured it. When the phones changed, or the spotlight moved on, the road got harder. And getting paid was the open question: in 2012, Maliyo said it wasn't yet clear how African games would make money.

The road got shorter

Most of those games asked you to do something before you could play. Find it in an app store. Download it. Make space on your phone.

That sounds small. It isn't. In 2017, Google looked at its own Play Store data. For every extra 6MB in an app's size, the share of people who installed it fell by about 1%. In emerging markets, cutting just 10MB raised installs by about 2.5%.

Every step between curiosity and play loses people. Lagos Life removed almost all of them. It was a link: you tapped it on X and you were in Lagos. And the post that told you about the game was also the way in. Every person who shared it handed the next person the door.

But a browser game wasn't new either. Five days earlier, on 26 September, Berlin-based developer Opeyemi Adeniran posted Lagos Run, a browser game where you drive a danfo through Lagos traffic. In her launch post, Shalom wrote that she grew up playing The Sims 3, and that seeing Lagos Run sparked an idea. She also used AI throughout the build. The overnight launch had a runway: a format people had just accepted, a trend already moving, a national holiday, and a builder ready to move fast.

Nobody needed Lagos explained

A link only gets you the first click. Something has to make people stay, and share.

Nobody needs a tutorial for a danfo, or for NEPA taking light. Some of it came from her own life: her father drove a taxi, she says, so she put things from his stories into the game. When people recognise themselves in something, they share it. Not as a game. As a piece of themselves.

Then there's the roll of the dice. Before you start, the game decides what life you were born into. A Nepo Baby gets a furnished flat in Lekki and a job at Daddy's friend's bank. A LAPO Baby starts in Mushin or Yaba with a ₦60,000 in-game loan, named after LAPO, a real microfinance lender. Nepo Baby versus LAPO Baby was already a national argument about class, running online since 2025. The game turned it into a roll of the dice, and the argument flared up again. Shalom's own answer was short: "I don't want classism."

Recognition got Lagos Life its players. The old Lagos games had found players too. What they struggled with was getting paid.

It got paid in its first week

In Nigeria, charging players directly has long been hard. In 2021, fewer than two in every hundred adults had a credit card, and about a third had a debit card (World Bank Global Findex).

Lagos Life takes card payments, but it also found another customer: businesses. In the first days, a brand could rent one of 38 billboards inside the virtual city for ₦5,000 a week, or a lagoon plot for ₦18,000 a week, according to Techpoint. Techpoint reported advertisers including Salary Index, Leadway Lifestyle Fair, MyDecorTrade and ONErpm. By 7 October, a week on a billboard, shared in rotation with other ads, was listed at ₦250,000.

On 5 October, Shalom posted a screenshot of her dashboard showing $46,900 in revenue, and said it came in the first four days. This figure, like the player counts, is self-reported and hasn't been independently audited. She hasn't said how much came from billboards and how much from players, or what the servers cost.

The economy needed rules

Moving this fast had a cost. On the second day, the servers went down, and every player got ₦100,000 in virtual cash as an apology. Then an exploit let some players create enormous sums of money. Suddenly there were in-game trillionaires. She reset the fraudulent balances.

In her interview with Fisayo Fosudo, Shalom named the mistake herself: there was no cap on money. She compared it to a country printing money without limit. "We are learning from our mistakes," she said.

One night, and years

It would be easy to read this as luck. Listen to how she describes herself instead: nearly a decade of building software, she says. "I ship things." She has even taught a LinkedIn Learning course on React.

Before Lagos Life, she says, she had always built products for businesses. Then she watched ChatGPT reach ordinary people first, and decided to do the same. Her last product before Lagos Life, Hey Eliy, was, in her words, a consumer product.

She also uses an AI agent connected to X, which collects the bug reports and feature requests players post. The players are effectively writing her to-do list.

So yes, the first version took one night. Being ready to build it in one night took years.

Over to you

Here is what we think happened underneath. Lagos games were never missing the idea. They were missing the road between the idea and the player. Lagos Life cut that road down to one link, filled it with things only Nigerians would understand, and started charging for attention in its first week.

What would you build that only your city would understand?

Tell us in the Cableheads community. We read every answer.


Sources: Fisayo Fosudo's interview with Shalom Mathew (YouTube) · Shalom Mathew's posts on X · lagoslife.app · Techpoint Africa · TechCabal · Technext · ChopUp · VC4A (Maliyo Games, 2012) · PocketGamer.biz · Games Industry Africa · notJustOk · World Bank Global Findex 2021 · Google Play (2017). Player, visit and revenue figures are self-reported by Lagos Life and not independently audited.

Stay plugged in

Get every new story and the research behind it.

Documentaries, startup systems and Circuit night news for African founders. Free, on the channel you already use.