Femi Dapson recently went viral on X for this post.
He shared a throwback video from when he was a cleaner in 2017, which he’d made as evidence of his strong belief that he’d make it one day. It has since amassed over two million views.
It’s 2023, and he did make it. He shares his inspiring journey with Zikoko.
As told to Boluwatife
Credit: Nouvelle Films
I grew up poor.
We were so poor my family rented uncompleted buildings because we couldn’t afford anything else. It was that bad.
I was born in Agege, but we moved to Idowu Egba, a neighbourhood in Igando, when I was about four years old. The uncompleted building we lived in had no windows or roof, so we used empty rice sacks to cover the ceiling and window openings. The floor was uncemented, so we put mats over the red sand.
Despite the sorry situation we were in, I always knew it wasn’t the life I was made for. My dad was a driver, and my mum sold food. I saw them constantly struggling and would always tell myself that I’d never end up like them.
And I backed this mindset with actions.
I made a deliberate effort not to make friends on my street. We were all poor there, so what was I supposed to gain from an equally poor person?
I have a way with people, and I’d always target rich kids. I wanted to be like them. So, I’d wake up every morning, iron and wear the only shirt I had, and walk the 15-minute distance to Diamond Estate to meet with the friends I’d made from church or while helping my mum sell food in schools.
My rich friends liked my vibes. I showed and told them things and slang they’d never heard before. In return, I learned how they lived, ate their food and always stood out when I returned home. The only person I got close to in my neighbourhood was the son of a prominent general, and it was because I did everything in my power to make sure we became friends.
Growing up poor meant I also had to start hustling early. I did many menial jobs while moving from one secondary school to the other due to challenges with paying the fees. You want to clear the grass in your compound? I’m there. You need someone to paint your house? I’ll most likely do rubbish, but just pay me ₦2k.
I started my hustle proper after I dropped out of school in SS one when my parents could no longer pay my fees. There’s almost nothing I didn’t do to survive —from barman, to primary school teacher, to factory worker. One thing I made sure to do each time was to put in 110% in every job.
In 2014, we moved to yet another uncompleted building in Sango, and I got a job cleaning at a popular church’s headquarters in Ota. I got paid between ₦11k – 15k monthly to sweep portions of the church premises, chapels, and sometimes, wash cars. I did that for about two years.
One principle guides my life: “If you can read and write, you can teach yourself anything.” In 2016, while still cleaning, I started volunteering to help input evangelism converts’ data into a computer. I’d taught myself computer basics with a cousin’s computer when I was in JSS one, so while other volunteers would use all day to input the data of 100 people, I’d do it in 30 minutes.
The General Overseer’s secretary noticed and took a liking to me, and I unofficially became the assistant secretary to the G.O. Because I didn’t pass through the normal employment process, I didn’t get a raise. But it didn’t stop me from putting in my all. I helped the department make financial approval processes almost paperless before I left after six months. My reason? I was scared they’d just wake up one day and tell everyone without the right qualifications to go.
In 2017, I moved in with a cousin in Ikeja and got a cleaning job at an event centre. It paid between ₦18k – ₦21k/monthly, but damn, the workload wasn’t beans. After parties ended around 10 p.m., the whole place would be a mess, and I’d clean and clean.
But I understood the power of positive confessions. I’d always tell my guys and say to myself that I’d be great; I was born to be great. I’d watch celebrities come to parties where I worked and even pour soap to wash their hands after they used the restroom so they’d give me ₦200 tips. That was the life I wanted. To spray money freely at parties and be greeted, “Good evening, sir”, when I entered toilets, too.
I made this video in 2017 at a low point. I was down with Typhoid and had been in and out of the hospital for two weeks, but I left and returned to work while still sick because I was scared I’d be sacked for staying away that long.
On that day, I was weak and frustrated. I had just finished cleaning the hall and was washing the toilets. At a point, I stopped and started self-affirming that this was just a temporary phase and I’d look back at the memory one day. I decided to document that moment, so I took my phone and recorded myself. If not for the fact that my physical look has improved since then, people would say I took the video yesterday, and I’m just lying. The confidence with which I spoke was crazy.
A large part of my confidence stemmed from the fact that I know God loves me — that’s even what my name, Oluwafemi Ifeoluwa, means. I also had a habit of sacrificially giving out the little money I had at the time — I still give a lot. I believe that the more you give, the more you receive, and I know God is too faithful to fail.
Knowing God saw my heart, I’d drop my bracelet or anything on me in faith when I didn’t have money. I even gave my toothbrush as an offering once. It wasn’t useful to anyone, but God knew that was all I had.
So, I made that video with complete confidence and kept it as evidence so that when I made my money, no one would come and say I did fraud.
And God did come through for me.
I gathered the little money I had and sat for O’Levels in 2018. Then a year later, I got an opportunity to work as a junior auditor in an auditing firm for ₦30k/month. How I got the job was even funny. When I arrived at the interview, I met guys with degrees speaking big English, but when it got to my turn and I showed the partners how I helped make that church in Ota go paperless, their minds were blown.
I had to leave the job a couple of months later because I had stayed with my cousin for too long, and it was starting to become uncomfortable for him. My next stop was Egbeda, where I moved in with a photographer friend, Perliks. We started working together, and I helped him rebrand and manage his business. He was such an amazing photographer, and I made sure he saw it, too. Many of the projects we worked on together went viral.
It wasn’t just Perliks and I in Egbeda; some other friends lived with us. One of them was an artist, and that same year, he got funding for a music video. Perliks had some directing knowledge because he had been on a similar set before, so he said he could shoot it, and I’d produce. I didn’t know anything about production, but I read up about it and said I could do it.
The first day of that production was a disaster because rain destroyed the set, but we pushed through and made the video. It cost ₦800k to shoot, and we even ran at a loss because of the rain. Another artist manager saw it, loved it, and hired us to shoot a video for one of the artists she managed. We went on to shoot three videos for three of her artists. We didn’t make any money from it — we were just trying to give our all.
Around the same time, I pitched a social media influencer and told her I’d like to manage her, and she agreed. While doing that, I met someone who organised monthly parties for a Whiskey brand. He asked me to come on as his partner to blow the brand in Lagos. We threw the littest parties, and it brought cool money. Money cool enough to buy my first car; a Toyota Avalon which cost ₦1.6m.
In 2020, a media production company signed Perliks and me as director and producer, respectively. It’s still crazy how these professionals were absolutely loving what I did with music videos, and I was just a random boy from Egbeda.
When my contract expired the following year, I left and created my own company — Nouvelle Films — and I’ve had the privilege of working on amazing jobs. That’s what I do till date: production and the parties.
I believe everything I’ve gone through in life was specially designed to allow me to get to where I am right now. I never look down on people because someone selling Gala on the streets could be at a level you’d never imagined tomorrow.
Now, some people message me to say we grew up together; they may never have imagined I’d be where I am today. I mean, if someone had told me four years ago that I’d be driving a Mercedes Benz today, I may not have believed it.
Some advice I’d give anyone is to hold on to positive thoughts, hold God and believe in yourself. If you don’t first see IT, no one will see IT with you.
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