Few months back I heard that PayPal was finally lifting off restrictions on Nigerians, so at the close of work the day I heard about it, I hurried home and stopped at a friend's place who was a freelancer to share the news to him.

Of course, I knew he would have gotten the information before I got to his house but I just wanted a topic for us to discuss about.

My excitement about our prospective conversation disappeared when Paul didn't flinch one bit about the whole news, because I was expecting excitements maybe or even arguments, facts and banter, I got none and I was really disappointed.

When the news broke out that PayPal was finally coming to Nigeria and other parts of the African continent, Paul didn’t even bother to read the whole news about it.

This was somebody that had been complaining to me about payment wahala and losing clients' deals because of the restrictions of PayPal and his clients only used PayPal as payment means. So why wasn't he happy?

He didn’t tweet about it sef, and this guy was a twitter lord oo. He simply stared at his phone at the news link I sent him and said okay na—just okay na?

Well honestly, I felt his pain too! For years, he had watched clients walk away because of their terms “PayPal only.”

For years, Nigeria had been present in the global economy, but was never fully invited in. Now, suddenly, without any prior notice, the door swung widely open, quietly and casually, as if nothing had happened.

And that is just how this story begins.

PayPal Is Finally Here, But Through Paga, Not the Front Door

You already know how the story started, PayPal restricted Nigeria and other sub Saharan African countries and now they are back, but that is not why we are here.

When PayPal announced months ago that it was reopening its services to almost the entire African continent, it felt like a soft apology wrapped in corporate language—no grand statement, no reckoning with the past decade of exclusion. Just a forward-looking announcement that said, we’re ready now.

For Nigeria, that readiness has materialized through PayPal’s partnership with Paga.

Paga isn’t new to the fintech game, founded in 2009 by Tayo Oviosu, Paga has quietly built one of Nigeria’s most extensive payment infrastructures, serving millions of users and merchants, especially in areas traditional banking systems failed to reach.

Paga understands local realities: fragmented banking access, regulatory sensitivities, mobile-first behaviour, and trust.

Through this partnership, Nigerians can now download the Paga app, integrate and seamlessly link their PayPal accounts, and finally send and receive international payments without any hassle or complications.

That last part matters because for years, Nigerians could only send money via PayPal, not receive it, a restriction that cost freelancers, creatives, consultants, and small businesses real opportunities and real income.

And that actually led to creation of African based fintech for international payments and transactions that have flourished over the years—but the recent announcement of PayPal and the recognition it has on the global stage, what does this really mean for the African continent and its economy?

Another question to put in mind here: is why Paga? For me I think it's because PayPal doesn't just need a partner; it needs a translator—that can help them translate the reality they're stepping into.

Someone who understands Nigeria’s financial terrain and can help it navigate compliance, regulation, and adoption without lighting another fire.

What this partnership promises is not just access, but convenience—fewer workarounds, fewer grey-market fixes, and fewer apologies to international clients.

At least, that’s the promise, that we all can see.

The Anger Might Have Faded, But Did the Memory Go With It?

When PayPal’s return was first announced, Nigerians were loud on different social media platforms, they were nonchalant, angry and defiant, just like my friend Paul.

Why are they coming now?

We survived without them.

We don’t need them.

Boycott PayPal.

Let them keep their services.

And none of those reactions were wrong, because PayPal's exclusion was outright and not lenient at all.

It hurts to be treated like a second thought in a global system you actively contribute to.

It hurts to watch neighbouring countries enjoy seamless access while you explain, again and again, why your payment method is “different” and why you can use a payment method based on a company's policy. For many, PayPal wasn’t just a tool; it was a daily reminder of exclusion.

But outrage has a shelf life. You and I know that, because there is one adage in pidgin that I learnt that said—No matter how water boil reach, e nor de hot overnight—and that is true, outrage usually fades with time.

Reality is quieter and bills don’t trend on the net. Clients don’t wait for sentimental facts or emotional state and survival has a way of softening absolutes.

So before this recent announcement of the partnership of Paypal and paga, the tension has died down, and the real question remains: after all the initial gra gra, will people actually use it?

Let’s be honest—many will accept it and others will still reject it—its all a personal decision.

Not because the anger wasn’t real, but because convenience often wins, in an economy where every edge matters, refusing a working system can feel like self-sabotage.

And you won't tell that if you're a freelancer like my friend Paul and your rent is due and a client insists on using PayPal for payment, wouldn't your stance and ideology become negotiable at that point for the payment?

Is this acceptance genuine forgiveness, or just adaptation? We all know it's definitely the latter—man gats survive.

The truth is noise fades, only systems endure and PayPal? Well PayPal has systems, we've seen that for the over two since it was founded.

RECOMMENDED READ: PayPal Is Coming To Africa - Is There Politics, Power, and Timing Behind Its Return?

So… Will Nigerians Embrace It, Or Hold the Grudge?

Well, well, well—we can't conclude fully on whether Nigerians will embrace it or not. That is left for them to decide and just like my friend Paul they are not children, he knows what is best for his freelance career.

But one thing is sure, PayPal didn’t come back because Nigerians complained or begged, it came back because Africa is impossible to ignore economically. The African market has matured and the numbers on charts is not something to leave to chance and it's normal making sense to them. The risk-reward equation shifted.

But that won't just erase the past.

There would still be skepticism. Questions will linger about data control, regulatory alignment, and whether this access is permanent or conditional.

People are watching to see if the Nigerian government will play an active role in protecting users, ensuring fair regulation, and preventing another quiet shutdown when global politics change.

Trust, once broken, doesn’t regenerate overnight, but history shows us something else too: Nigerians are pragmatic, they protest loudly, then they adapt intelligently. They hold grudges, but they also know when to use what works.

So, will PayPal’s promised ease make people forget the exclusion? Definitely not.

Will it make them pause before rejecting it outright? Absolutely yes!

This partnership promises huge benefits and we can all see it but it isn’t a hug, it’s a handshake across a table cluttered with old grievances. And maybe that’s enough for now.

Because whether we admit it or not, the question that is currently lingering in people's minds is not whether “Should PayPal have shut us out?”

The question is now is very simple and requires honesty:

Now that PayPal is finally going to work…you go use am?