Interview

From Obscurity to Limelight: Adebowale built, sold fintech firm before 26

Adebowale Oparinu’s journey defies convention; from launching his first company as an undergraduate to building and exiting myStash

Adebowale Oparinu

By Ephraim Oseji

Adebowale Oparinu’s journey defies convention; from launching his first company as an undergraduate to building and exiting myStash, an innovative fintech startup, all by age 25. At just 21, he became the youngest Nigerian selected for the U.S. Department of State’s Mandela Washington Fellowship in 2019. Today, he combines entrepreneurship with impact, investing in early-stage ventures while also expanding access for underserved youth through his social enterprise, PathShapers Africa.In this exclusive interview, Adebowale shares insights from his journey, successes, and lessons learned.

You’re known for your early selection into the Mandela Washington Fellowship in 2019 at just 21, an incredibly rare feat. What did that moment mean to you?

It was incredibly humbling. The Fellowship typically targets established changemakers between 25 and 35, with five or more years of tangible impact. I had just finished university.

I remember looking at the stats later; over 38,000 applications across Africa, and only about 700 selected, representing a 1.84% acceptance rate.

I was the youngest from Nigeria that year. But I wasn’t new to impact. In 2018 alone, I’d led teams to win the Hult Prize on Campus, reached the finals of the African Development Bank’s Innovation Pitch in Abidjan, won The Platform Nigeria National Business Challenge, which aired live on Channels Television during Independence Day Celebrations, and took home PremierHub’s Social Impact Grand Grant Prize.
I think those recognitions helped, but beyond that, I think what stood out was how deeply personal all those ideas were. I wasn’t trying to check a box, I was trying to solve problems I knew too well.

Speaking of problems you knew too well, your first business came from something as ordinary as your mother’s kitchen. What’s the real story behind that?

That story means everything to me. My mother used to produce ‘Iru’ (African locust beans) for family and neighbors. It’s a deeply cultural seasoning in West African cuisine. But it had a bad rep: messy, smelly, often full of stones. I kept wondering, why can’t we enjoy this heritage ingredient in a cleaner, more modern way?

So we started small. We cleaned it thoroughly, packaged it hygienically, and branded it. Then we pushed the innovation further. We developed it into a bullion cube form, just like your regular Maggi seasoning cubes, which made it easy to use, store, and export.

That cube innovation was novel enough that we were able to secure a patent on it. But we didn’t stop there. We expanded our R&D to include Iru-flavored BBQ sauces, targeting a younger, more urban demographic.

At the same time, we completely redesigned the supply chain. Instead of just sourcing raw locust beans, we trained rural women to dehusk and pre-process the seeds before they reached our facility in Akure. That way, they earned income from every batch we sold. So the more we grew, the more money flowed back to those communities. It became a sustainable, shared-success model.

That business taught me that innovation isn’t always digital.

Sometimes, it’s about seeing something old in a completely new light and finding ways to lift others as you rise.

Your next act, myStash, was a fintech company that scaled and got acquired in less than 18 months. What was the thinking behind that, and what did it teach you?

myStash started from a personal struggle. I found it hard to save consistently. Every time money entered my account, something urgent came up and wiped it out before any savings app could help.

When we spoke to others, the pattern was clear: people didn’t lack discipline; they lacked a system that protected them from themselves.

The breakthrough came from noticing how Nigerians pay VAT every day without feeling it. That insight led us to design a savings product that quietly deducted a percentage of every transaction. Saving became invisible.

We grew fast, 25,000 users in a year, with almost no marketing. But then, infrastructure problems hit. Open banking in Nigeria was unreliable, and users unknowingly got disconnected.

So we pivoted to salary-based saving, using stable payroll rails. Then we added automatic dollar conversion to guard against inflation. By 2023, we were processing over ₦2 billion monthly in savings.

That reliability, scale, and impact made us an easy acquisition target, and I am glad we were successfully merged into Princeps Holdings Group right after the acquisition in a seamless manner.

That’s two businesses, one in food, one in fintech, both impactful and both commercially viable. But then you launched PathShapers Africa. What inspired that pivot toward youth development?

For me, giving back wasn’t a pivot; it was always part of the plan. I grew up in Ipetumodu, a very rural part of Osun State.

I grew up with so many bright kids, but we all had zero exposure. No one told us about coding, or pitch competitions, or design thinking. If I hadn’t stumbled into certain opportunities, I might still be unaware of what I was capable of. PathShapers is my way of fixing that.

We launched to expose rural students to opportunities usually accessible only in urban areas, including robotics, virtual reality, debate, chess, and entrepreneurship training.

One of our proudest achievements was a student team from our flagship school winning the National Robotics Competition, qualifying to represent Nigeria globally. This validated my belief that talent exists everywhere; opportunity is what’s unevenly distributed.

Looking at your journey, what has success meant to you? And how do you stay grounded?

For me, success is the ability to solve problems that matter. At scale, and sustainably. It’s not about headlines. It’s about watching someone thrive because of a system you helped build and scale. And as for staying grounded, that’s easy.

My parents raised me with the quiet confidence that I was meant to do something meaningful, but also the humility to know I’m just one tiny piece of a much larger puzzle.

I come from a place where talent often goes unnoticed. That keeps me focused on building ladders, not pedestals.

What advice would you give to other young Africans trying to build something from scratch?

Start with what frustrates you. Pay attention to the problems you wish someone else would solve, and then try solving them in small ways. Your first idea might not be perfect. Your first attempt might not scale.

That’s fine. Keep showing up. Keep listening. And never forget that your background, however modest, can be a fuel for the great things you’ll ultimately achieve.