PayPal just announced they’re coming back to Nigeria through a partnership with Paga. After over a decade of “send-only” restrictions, where Nigerians could pay out but couldn’t receive personal payments, the global payments giant is finally offering full access.

Before we go any further: I’m not getting paid for this. No one from PayPal, Paga, or anyone else has contacted me. This isn’t sponsored content. This is just my honest take on a situation where I think the ecosystem is being hypocritical.

The ecosystem’s response? Boycott.

X is on fire. “PayPal thinks they’re smart reopening Nigeria. We moved on.” Tech leaders are calling for mass rejection. Some are even threatening to sue any local fintech that partners with them.

I understand the anger. I really do.

But I’m not joining this boycott. And before you close this tab, hear me out.

The Convenient Amnesia

What bothers me about this whole narrative: we’re acting like PayPal’s 2004 ban came out of nowhere.

It didn’t.

PayPal cited fraud concerns: specifically, stolen credit cards from North America and Europe being used through Nigerian IP addresses. The “Nigerian Prince” email scam wasn’t just a meme; it was a documented pattern of financial crime that made global headlines and cost victims billions.

Was every Nigerian a fraudster? Obviously not. Were there legitimate freelancers and businesses hurt by the ban? Absolutely. But let’s not pretend the ban was arbitrary discrimination with no underlying cause.

There is no smoke without fire.

The Numbers Don’t Lie

Let me share some uncomfortable statistics.

According to INTERPOL’s 2025 Africa Cyberthreat Assessment Report, two-thirds of African member countries reported that cyber-related crimes account for a medium-to-high share of all crimes, rising to 30% in Western and Eastern Africa.

The FBI’s IC3 reports that Business Email Compromise (BEC) schemes, many originating from Nigerian criminal networks, have caused over $55 billion in global losses. That’s not a typo. Fifty-five billion dollars.

In November 2024, U.S. authorities sentenced Babatunde Ayeni, a 33-year-old Nigerian national, to 10 years for orchestrating a BEC scheme that affected over 400 victims and stole $19.6 million.

In February 2025, Nigeria’s EFCC arraigned 42 foreign nationals, mainly Chinese and Filipino, on charges related to an alleged cybercriminal syndicate of nearly 800 people operating out of Nigeria.

In mid-2024, Meta removed over 63,000 Instagram accounts and 7,000 Facebook entities linked to digital sextortion operations in Nigeria alone.

The Nigerian Communications Commission estimates Nigeria loses about $500 million yearly to cybercrime. That’s 0.08% of our GDP, gone to fraud.

These aren’t PayPal’s numbers. These are from INTERPOL, the FBI, academic researchers, and our own government.

When you’re a payments company evaluating risk, what would you do with this data?

Nigeria Wasn’t Singled Out

Another inconvenient fact: Nigeria wasn’t uniquely targeted. PayPal restricted dozens of countries.

The full list of PayPal-restricted countries includes Ghana, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Cameroon, Iraq, Lebanon, Libya, Myanmar, and many others. Some countries are completely blocked. Others have partial access.

Why? The same reasons everywhere: inadequate anti-money laundering infrastructure, weak identity verification systems, high fraud rates, or international sanctions.

Pakistan isn’t blocked because PayPal hates Pakistanis. Bangladesh isn’t restricted because of racism. These are risk-based decisions driven by regulatory compliance and financial exposure.

Nigeria wasn’t special. We were just one of many high-risk markets.

The difference is that Nigerians are loudly claiming victimhood while Ghanaians and Pakistanis quietly found alternatives. We turned a business decision into a national grievance.

The Culture We Don’t Talk About

Let me say something that will make some people uncomfortable: we have a cultural problem with fraud, and we don’t talk about it honestly.

“Yahoo Yahoo” isn’t just slang. It’s a subculture. There are songs celebrating it. Social media accounts flaunting proceeds from it. Young people who see it as a legitimate career path because the money is good and enforcement is weak.

I’m not saying most Nigerians are fraudsters. That would be absurd. The vast majority of Nigerians are honest, hardworking people trying to build legitimate lives.

But we’ve created an environment where fraud is tolerated, sometimes even celebrated. When a “Yahoo boy” buys a new car, people don’t ask where the money came from. When someone flashes unexplained wealth, we look the other way. When young people joke about “maga” (victims of scams), we laugh instead of cringing.

This cultural tolerance is part of the problem. It’s why Nigeria consistently ranks high in cybercrime statistics. It’s why global platforms approach our market with caution.

Understand: you can’t demand to be treated as trustworthy while tolerating a culture that celebrates fraud.

Until we’re willing to have honest conversations about this, until fraud carries real social stigma and not just legal risk, we’ll keep having these conversations about why global platforms don’t trust us.

The Terms You Agreed To (And Ignored)

Understand: many Nigerians opened PayPal accounts knowing it violated the terms of service.

You used VPNs to mask your location. You provided addresses from countries you didn’t live in. You created accounts that PayPal’s terms explicitly prohibited. And when PayPal eventually detected these violations and froze your funds, you cried foul.

I’m not saying PayPal handled these situations well. Their customer service was often abysmal, and their freeze-first-ask-questions-never approach left legitimate users in financial limbo. That’s a valid criticism.

But let’s be honest: you knew the rules. You broke them. You got caught.

Ayoola Daniel’s story, shared in the current boycott discourse, involves PayPal suspending his account and asking him to refund clients. That’s frustrating and painful. But I’d genuinely like to know: was that a PayPal Nigeria account, or was it a U.S. or U.K. account accessed from Nigeria in violation of PayPal’s terms?

Because those are two very different situations.

Account Freezing Is Not a Nigerian Problem

This gets lost in our victimhood narrative: PayPal freezes accounts everywhere. Americans are suing them too.

In January 2022, three U.S. PayPal users filed a federal lawsuit against PayPal under RICO (the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, originally designed to prosecute organized crime). Their collective losses? Over $240,000 in frozen funds.

One plaintiff, Lena Evans from California, had been a PayPal user for 22 years. PayPal seized nearly $27,000 from her account without explanation. Another plaintiff lost $172,000. These weren’t Nigerians using VPNs. These were American citizens, in America, using American accounts.

In 2017, PayPal settled a $4 million class action lawsuit (Zepeda v. PayPal) over improperly freezing accounts and placing holds without notice. The settlement covered users from 2006 to 2015, a decade of problematic behavior.

World Series of Poker champion Chris Moneymaker sued PayPal in 2021 over seized funds. PayPal has allegedly been arbitrarily freezing accounts for at least 15-20 years, globally.

This isn’t about Nigeria. This is about PayPal.

Their aggressive fraud detection and account freezing policies affect users worldwide. The difference? When Americans get their accounts frozen, they sue. When we get our accounts frozen, we cry on X about being victimized.

The lesson here isn’t “PayPal hates Nigerians.” The lesson is: read the terms of service of any financial platform you use.

Every financial system (PayPal, Stripe, Wise, your local bank) has terms that govern how your money can be held, frozen, or seized. These terms exist because of regulatory requirements, fraud prevention, and risk management. You may not like them, but they’re legally binding the moment you click “I agree.”

If you’re running a business through any payment platform:

• Read the acceptable use policy. Know what types of transactions are prohibited.
• Understand the hold and reserve policies. Know when and why your funds can be held.
• Keep documentation. Transaction records, customer communications, proof of legitimate business.
• Don’t assume you’re exempt. The rules apply to everyone, including you.

Ignorance of the terms you agreed to is not a defense. And it’s certainly not evidence of discrimination.

If you genuinely believe PayPal wronged you, sue them. The Americans did. That’s how you get $4 million settlements and policy changes. Not X threads. Not boycotts. Lawyers.

The False Positive Problem (And Why It’s Not The Point)

“But what about innocent people who got caught up in fraud detection systems?”

This is a legitimate concern. Fraud detection systems are imperfect. Industry data shows that for every fraudulent transaction blocked, multiple legitimate transactions get caught in the net. Research indicates that only 1 in 5 blocked transactions is actually fraudulent, and every 6th user is mistakenly blocked over a year.

That’s painful. That’s frustrating. And I genuinely sympathize with anyone who was wrongly flagged.

Understand: the false positive problem is a symptom, not the disease.

Why do these aggressive fraud detection systems exist in the first place? Because of the very real, very documented fraud that made them necessary. The innocent users caught in these nets are collateral damage from a war they didn’t start, but a war that was started by people who share their nationality.

If you want to be angry at someone for the false positives, be angry at the fraudsters who made aggressive detection necessary. The system isn’t the problem. The behavior that created the need for the system is the problem.

The Real Question

Let me ask you something: If you were PayPal’s risk officer in 2004, what would you have done?

You’re looking at data showing elevated fraud rates from certain regions. You’re getting chargebacks from stolen credit cards. Your legal team is warning you about liability. Your shareholders are asking why you’re taking losses from preventable fraud.

Would you: A) Keep the market open and absorb the losses, hoping things improve B) Implement restrictions while you figure out how to serve the market safely

I’m not saying PayPal made the right call. Over a decade of send-only restrictions (since 2014 when they partially opened up, and a full decade of complete ban before that) is too long. Their failure to develop solutions for legitimate Nigerian users during that time is a valid criticism. But the initial decision to restrict access wasn’t born from racism or arbitrary discrimination. It was born from documented financial risk.

And we need to be honest about that.

What Changed

What’s interesting about PayPal’s return: they’re not coming back recklessly. They’re partnering with Paga, a local fintech that processed ₦17 trillion across 169 million transactions in 2025. Paga understands the Nigerian market, has local KYC infrastructure, and can help manage the risk that PayPal couldn’t handle from afar.

That’s actually smart. That’s PayPal saying, “We couldn’t solve this alone, so we found a partner who can help us serve this market responsibly.”

Nigeria’s fintech ecosystem has also matured dramatically. Digital payments within Nigeria totalled ₦1.07 quadrillion ($754.08 billion) in 2024. We have sophisticated local infrastructure, regulatory frameworks, and identity verification systems that didn’t exist in 2004.

The conditions that justified the original ban have changed. And PayPal is responding to that change.

The Paga Story You’re Ignoring

What really gets me about the boycott calls: you’re punishing a Nigerian founder who spent 13 years making this happen.

Tayo Oviosu first reached out to PayPal in August 2013. Thirteen years ago. When Nigeria’s fintech ecosystem was barely a thing.

He didn’t give up. He built Paga. He processed over ₦23 trillion in transactions over 16 years. He created infrastructure that serves 29 million users. He proved that Nigerian fintech could be trusted at scale.

And then he went back to PayPal and said: “Look, we’ve built something you can work with. Partner with us.”

That’s not PayPal doing us a favor. That’s a Nigerian entrepreneur bringing global payments infrastructure to Nigeria on Nigerian terms.

Oviosu said it himself: “PayPal is what inspired Paga. PayPal was an example I shared with people - why can’t we build a PayPal for Africa?”

He built the bridge. And now that PayPal is crossing it, we want to burn it down?

The boycott doesn’t just hurt PayPal. It hurts Paga. It hurts Tayo. It hurts every Nigerian who could benefit from this partnership.

This is what building looks like. Years of patient work, trust-building, regulatory navigation, and showing up consistently. Not X threads. Not victim narratives. Actual building.

And we’re responding with boycott calls.

The Pride Argument

“We don’t need PayPal anymore. Our fintechs are better.”

I hear this a lot. And there’s truth in it.

During PayPal’s absence, Flutterwave, Paystack, and yes, Paga, built infrastructure that moves billions. Paystack got acquired by Stripe. Flutterwave became a unicorn. Nigerian fintech is genuinely world-class.

But consider this: PayPal has 400 million users globally. That’s 400 million potential customers who already have PayPal accounts and are comfortable paying through PayPal.

When a U.S. small business wants to hire a Nigerian freelancer, what’s easier: convincing them to create accounts on platforms they’ve never heard of, or receiving payment through a service they already use and trust?

PayPal’s return isn’t a threat to Nigerian fintech. It’s an additional channel. It’s more options for Nigerian entrepreneurs and freelancers to get paid from the global economy.

Turning that down out of pride is cutting off your nose to spite your face.

The Selective Memory Problem

One more thing. Obinna Nwoye said: “I doubt Shola would have had the confidence to start Paystack if there was PayPal. Without Paystack launching then, no Flutterwave would have come soon after. So THANK YOU PayPal for NOT coming to Nigeria then.”

I appreciate the silver lining perspective. Nigerian fintech did thrive in PayPal’s absence. That’s a genuine positive outcome.

But let’s not romanticize this.

For every Shola Akinlade who built Paystack, there were thousands of freelancers who couldn’t receive international payments. Designers, writers, developers, and virtual assistants who had to use convoluted workarounds or simply lost opportunities because clients couldn’t pay them easily.

The success of Nigerian fintech didn’t happen because of PayPal’s ban. It happened despite it, driven by entrepreneurs who saw a gap and filled it.

We can celebrate their success without pretending the ban was a gift.

The Boycott’s Logic Problem

Let me understand the boycott logic:

1. PayPal restricted Nigeria (complete ban 2004-2014, send-only since 2014)
2. That hurt legitimate Nigerian users
3. Now PayPal is back with full access
4. So we should… continue not using them?

If the problem was that Nigerians couldn’t receive payments through PayPal, how does boycotting PayPal, now that they’re offering that access, solve anything?

The punishment for years of restrictions is… choosing to extend the restrictions ourselves?

This isn’t justice. It’s theatre.

If you want to use Paystack or Flutterwave or Grey instead, great. Those are excellent services. Support them.

But don’t pretend that a boycott achieves anything except denying Nigerian users one more option for accessing the global economy.

My Position

Let me be clear about where I stand:

I’m sympathetic to everyone who was hurt by PayPal’s policies. False positives, frozen accounts, lost opportunities. These caused real pain to real people.

I’m critical of how long PayPal took. They should have developed solutions for legitimate users much sooner. Their partnership approach with Paga should have happened a decade ago.

But I refuse to participate in collective amnesia. PayPal’s ban didn’t come from nowhere. It came from documented patterns of financial crime that made Nigeria a high-risk market. That’s uncomfortable to acknowledge, but it’s true.

And I refuse to be a hypocrite. If we want global platforms to treat Nigerian users fairly, we have to acknowledge the legitimate concerns those platforms have about fraud originating from our country. We can’t demand trust while refusing to address the reasons trust was broken.

What Would Actually Help

Instead of boycotts and victim narratives, here’s what would actually move the needle:

1. Support stronger enforcement against cybercrime. The EFCC is doing work, but it’s not enough. We need a culture where fraud isn’t tolerated or celebrated as “hustle.”

2. Build and support reputation systems. Platforms like Paga that can vouch for Nigerian users’ legitimacy are the bridge we need. Support them.

3. Hold PayPal accountable for fair treatment going forward. By all means, criticize them if they freeze accounts without cause or implement unreasonable restrictions. That’s valid advocacy.

4. Stop romanticizing exclusion. Being locked out of receiving global payments for years wasn’t a blessing. It was a problem. Let’s not pretend otherwise.

If You’re Going to Use PayPal

For those who actually want to use this new access responsibly, here’s practical advice:

1. Use your real identity. No VPNs to mask location. No fake addresses. No borrowed documents. If you start with deception, don’t be surprised when trust breaks down.

2. Read the Acceptable Use Policy. Seriously. Know what types of transactions are prohibited. Know what triggers reviews. Know your obligations.

3. Keep clean records. Transaction history, invoices, contracts with clients, proof of legitimate business activity. If your account ever gets flagged, documentation is your best defense.

4. Start small and build history. Don’t immediately route $50,000 through a new account. Build transaction history gradually. Let the system learn that you’re legitimate.

5. Diversify your payment options. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Use PayPal as one channel alongside Paystack, Flutterwave, Wise, or whatever works for your business. If one platform has issues, you have alternatives.

6. Understand the hold policies. New accounts, high-value transactions, and sudden volume increases can trigger holds. This is normal for any payment platform. Plan your cash flow accordingly.

This isn’t about being paranoid. It’s about being professional. Every serious business understands payment platform risk management. Now that we have access, let’s use it like professionals.

The Final Word

PayPal is coming to Nigeria. That’s good news.

Not because PayPal is benevolent. They’re a business following opportunity. Not because their years of restrictions were justified. They took too long. But because more options for Nigerian users to participate in the global economy is objectively positive.

The ecosystem’s anger is understandable. Years of exclusion and restrictions leave scars. Wounds don’t heal easily.

But let’s not rewrite history. Let’s not pretend we bear no responsibility for the reputation that led to our exclusion. Let’s not let righteous anger blind us to our own hypocrisy.

There is no smoke without fire.

And if we want the world to stop treating us like a fire hazard, we have to acknowledge the smoke, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Welcome back, PayPal. We’ll be watching.

Build honestly.