In Ibadan today, a quiet cultural revival is taking place in “oxymoron”, one that blends heritage, hustle, and hashtags. Agbo, the traditional Yoruba herbal mixture once sold almost exclusively by elderly women at roadside kiosks, is enjoying a dramatic and widely accepted rebirth. What used to be a low-profile trade rooted in ancestral knowledge has now evolved into a fast-growing market for young entrepreneurs, particularly on social media platforms like TikTok, Facebook, Instagram, among others
Traditionally, alagbo were respected community figures. They brewed mixtures of herbs, barks, and roots to treat common illnesses such as malaria, typhoid, sexual related infections, stomach upset, among other viruses and diseases. For decades, the practice seemed destined to remain a “grandmother’s trade.” However, in recent years, young people, facing economic hardship, high unemployment, and the promise of social media visibility have rebranded agbo for a modern audience. Videos of sellers confidently explaining the uses of their herbs now go viral, with some attracting thousands of customers, followers and online orders.
In Ibadan, names like English Alagbo, Quadace Alagbo, Aisha Alagbo, Alhaja Qudus Alagbo, and Asake Alagbo have become familiar to digital audiences. Unlike the old practice of selling in plastic cups at motor parks or roadside kiosks, these new-age sellers often adopt business-like brand identities. Some wear coordinated outfits, packaged the items in measured bottles, others shoot high-quality TikTok skits showing how their products are made, and a few even create catchy jingles or taglines. They offer agbo for everything from body cleansing and fertility to sexual stamina, weight loss, and energy boosts. By presenting themselves as relatable and entertaining, they have built a new customer base that extends far beyond traditional market spaces.
For the sellers, the attraction is clear, agbo is relatively easy to produce, requires little capital to start, and can be marketed with creativity and flair. In a city where youth unemployment remains high, the herbal trade has become a survival strategy and, for some, a pathway to financial independence. Social media provides an almost cost-free advertising platform, where a single viral video can turn a seller into a household name overnight. “Agbo is not just culture anymore, it’s business,” they are gradually turning what their mothers and grandmothers did into a brand.
However, this growth is not without its dangers. Medical experts have raised concerns about the health risks associated with unregulated herbal concoctions. Many agbo mixtures are brewed without clear dosage standards, and some are spiked with high levels of alcohol or combined with modern pharmaceutical drugs to “enhance” their potency.Doctors warn that consumers who rely solely on these herbal mixtures for serious conditions may delay seeking proper medical treatment, worsening their health outcomes. Public health researchers have also cautioned that mixing agbo with prescribed drugs can lead to harmful side effects.
Investigations in Nigerian cities have uncovered alarming practices among some vendors, such as promoting herbal “performance enhancers” with unverified claims or packaging dangerous mixtures as energy tonics for young people. These revelations have prompted calls for government intervention, not to erase the cultural significance of agbo, but to regulate, test, and certify products before they are sold. Now, without such oversight, critics argue, the “new gold rush” could cause long-term harm to the same communities it claims to serve. Still, customers remain loyal. For many, agbo is affordable, accessible, and deeply tied to cultural identity. Testimonials, often shared in Facebook or TikTok comment sections form the backbone of consumer trust. Buyers are more likely to believe a neighbour’s recommendation than a medical advisory. This culture of word-of-mouth, amplified by the internet, has created a powerful form of social proof. Sellers trade not just on their herbs, but also on the narratives of healing and transformation that customers spread on their behalf.
Hence, the bigger picture is that tradition is colliding with technology in a way that is transforming the informal economy. Agbo, once viewed as an old-fashioned remedy, has become a tool for youth entrepreneurship and digital creativity. It highlights the ingenuity of young Nigerians who take cultural practices and repackage them for a new age. However, it also raises urgent questions about safety, accountability, and the role of government in balancing cultural heritage with modern health standards.
As Ibadan’s agbo market continues to expand, stakeholders from traditional healers to public health officials face a choice. Should they dismiss the trend as a passing fad, or embrace it as a cultural-economic phenomenon that needs structure, support, and regulation? For now, one thing is certain, what began as a humble roadside practice has grown into a digital hustle and, for many young people, a gold rush that may shape the city’s informal economy for years to come.
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