How to Start a Food Blog in Nigeria and Actually Make Money From It
When I first thought about starting a food blog, it felt too big for me. I didn’t have a fancy kitchen, and the camera on my phone wasn’t even that sharp. But I loved food. I loved the smell of fried plantain on a Sunday morning and the feeling of seeing people enjoy what I made. That love was enough. If you’re reading this because you want to start your own food blog, then you already have the most important ingredient — passion. The rest, I’ve learned along the way, and I’ll show you everything I did.
I began by choosing a name that felt close to my heart. It had to sound like something I’d proudly tell my friends about. I didn’t overthink it; I wrote down names that reminded me of home, taste, and color. After a few tries, I found one that clicked. The name you choose should make you feel something — that’s how people will remember it. Then I got my domain. I used a simple platform at first because I wanted to learn the ropes without spending much. I later moved to a custom domain because it looked more professional and helped with Google ranking.
Once I had my corner of the internet, I started writing. My first post was not perfect. I didn’t even know much about SEO back then, but I shared a recipe I truly loved — smoky jollof rice. I wrote it like I was telling a friend how to make it. No stiff lines, no fancy language. I explained the parts I always messed up, like when the rice sticks or the sauce gets too thick. I added pictures I took with my phone near the window where the light was soft. That single post brought me my first readers. I didn’t have to beg anyone to visit; they came because it felt real.
That’s the thing with blogging — people don’t want another recipe; they want a story. Every dish has one. Talk about how your mum used to make that soup or the time you burned your first puff-puff. Those details make people stay on your blog longer, which is something Google loves. The more time they spend, the higher your page climbs in search results. That’s the quiet secret behind SEO: write for humans first, then gently shape it for the search engine.
When I learned about SEO, it sounded technical, but it’s really about helping your readers find you. I began using clear titles that sound like something I’d search myself — “How I Make Crunchy Chin Chin at Home” or “Easy Nigerian Breakfast Ideas for Busy Mornings.” I wrote short descriptions below each post that explained what the reader would get, something like, “Learn how to make light, crispy chin chin with just a few simple ingredients.” I made sure my photos had proper names too, not IMG1234 but “nigerian-chin-chin-recipe.jpg.” These small details tell Google what your page is about.
As my traffic grew, I started thinking about making money. The first time I saw ads appear on my blog, it felt unreal. I had joined Google AdSense after meeting the requirements — a few months of steady content, clear navigation, and original writing. AdSense reviewed my site and approved it. I didn’t earn much at first, but that little income felt like magic. Over time, I learned how to place ads properly so they didn’t disturb readers. The trick is balance. Too many ads make people leave, but the right amount keeps your blog clean and still profitable.
Later, I heard about Ezoic, a platform that pays even better when your traffic grows. I switched after my AdSense account had matured a bit, and it was worth it. But before reaching that stage, consistency was everything. I posted at least once a week, even when I was tired. I kept a small notebook for ideas. Every time I cooked something new, I’d jot it down. Sometimes it was just “okra soup with smoked fish twist.” That’s how I stayed consistent without burning out.
Another thing that helped my blog grow was using Pinterest and Instagram. I treated them like extensions of my kitchen. On Pinterest, I shared clean images with short titles like “My Best Jollof Rice Secret” or “Quick Nigerian Snacks You’ll Love.” On Instagram, I posted short clips of me stirring, chopping, or plating food. People loved seeing the behind-the-scenes moments. Those little videos brought traffic back to my blog, and my audience became more connected to me as a person.
Food blogging is also about trust. I learned never to copy recipes word-for-word from anyone else. Google can tell when your content isn’t original. I used inspiration from others but always added my voice. I’d say things like, “I learned this method from a friend in Enugu who swears it makes rice fluffier,” because it did. Personal touches like that make readers trust you — and trust is what brings traffic, followers, and eventually, income.
To grow your blog, your design matters too. I kept mine simple. No heavy background, no distracting fonts. A clean white background with good spacing made my food photos stand out. I made sure the pages loaded fast because slow sites turn visitors away. AdSense also checks for that before approval. I compressed my images, removed unnecessary widgets, and kept my homepage focused on recipes. I added an “About Me” page where I told my story — how I started, what food means to me, and what readers could expect from my site. That one page helped my approval too, because it showed I was real, not just another anonymous blog.
Over time, I started thinking beyond ads. I joined affiliate programs for kitchen tools and ingredients. For example, I shared links to where readers could buy measuring cups or local spices. Each time someone clicked and bought, I earned a small commission. It wasn’t huge, but it added up. I also got invited by small food brands to create sponsored posts. At first, I said yes to everything. Later, I learned to choose only brands that matched my style. Authenticity always wins.
There were moments I wanted to quit. The views came slowly, and sometimes I felt like nobody cared. But each time someone commented, “I tried your recipe and my family loved it,” I remembered why I started. Blogging is not a sprint; it’s a quiet journey that rewards consistency. I improved my writing, updated old posts with better keywords, and made sure every image had alt text so Google could understand it. I also kept learning about SEO trends — what kinds of posts people were searching for and how to make my titles stronger without sounding forced.
One lesson that stayed with me is this: a blog grows when you stop chasing perfection and start showing up. Some days my writing felt rough, but I hit publish anyway. Those posts often performed best because they sounded real. Google notices engagement — comments, shares, time spent on your page — and pushes such posts higher. That’s how your food blog becomes visible to more people.
Today, my food blog doesn’t just sit on the internet. It works for me. It earns, it connects, and it tells my story in ways social media alone never could. Starting was the hardest part, but once I got past the fear of not being perfect, everything flowed. If you’re reading this, thinking of starting yours, this is your sign. Begin with what you have. Use your phone, your kitchen, and your own recipes. Tell your story. Post often. Be patient. The money, the traffic, and the recognition will come.
I'm still learning, still improving, but every time someone tries a dish I shared, I know it’s all worth it. That’s what a food blog truly is — not just about money, but about connection, memory, and the joy of sharing something that once lived only in your kitchen. So go ahead and start yours today. It’s your turn to make the internet smell like your food.
I began by choosing a name that felt close to my heart. It had to sound like something I’d proudly tell my friends about. I didn’t overthink it; I wrote down names that reminded me of home, taste, and color. After a few tries, I found one that clicked. The name you choose should make you feel something — that’s how people will remember it. Then I got my domain. I used a simple platform at first because I wanted to learn the ropes without spending much. I later moved to a custom domain because it looked more professional and helped with Google ranking.
Once I had my corner of the internet, I started writing. My first post was not perfect. I didn’t even know much about SEO back then, but I shared a recipe I truly loved — smoky jollof rice. I wrote it like I was telling a friend how to make it. No stiff lines, no fancy language. I explained the parts I always messed up, like when the rice sticks or the sauce gets too thick. I added pictures I took with my phone near the window where the light was soft. That single post brought me my first readers. I didn’t have to beg anyone to visit; they came because it felt real.
That’s the thing with blogging — people don’t want another recipe; they want a story. Every dish has one. Talk about how your mum used to make that soup or the time you burned your first puff-puff. Those details make people stay on your blog longer, which is something Google loves. The more time they spend, the higher your page climbs in search results. That’s the quiet secret behind SEO: write for humans first, then gently shape it for the search engine.
When I learned about SEO, it sounded technical, but it’s really about helping your readers find you. I began using clear titles that sound like something I’d search myself — “How I Make Crunchy Chin Chin at Home” or “Easy Nigerian Breakfast Ideas for Busy Mornings.” I wrote short descriptions below each post that explained what the reader would get, something like, “Learn how to make light, crispy chin chin with just a few simple ingredients.” I made sure my photos had proper names too, not IMG1234 but “nigerian-chin-chin-recipe.jpg.” These small details tell Google what your page is about.
As my traffic grew, I started thinking about making money. The first time I saw ads appear on my blog, it felt unreal. I had joined Google AdSense after meeting the requirements — a few months of steady content, clear navigation, and original writing. AdSense reviewed my site and approved it. I didn’t earn much at first, but that little income felt like magic. Over time, I learned how to place ads properly so they didn’t disturb readers. The trick is balance. Too many ads make people leave, but the right amount keeps your blog clean and still profitable.
Later, I heard about Ezoic, a platform that pays even better when your traffic grows. I switched after my AdSense account had matured a bit, and it was worth it. But before reaching that stage, consistency was everything. I posted at least once a week, even when I was tired. I kept a small notebook for ideas. Every time I cooked something new, I’d jot it down. Sometimes it was just “okra soup with smoked fish twist.” That’s how I stayed consistent without burning out.
Another thing that helped my blog grow was using Pinterest and Instagram. I treated them like extensions of my kitchen. On Pinterest, I shared clean images with short titles like “My Best Jollof Rice Secret” or “Quick Nigerian Snacks You’ll Love.” On Instagram, I posted short clips of me stirring, chopping, or plating food. People loved seeing the behind-the-scenes moments. Those little videos brought traffic back to my blog, and my audience became more connected to me as a person.
Food blogging is also about trust. I learned never to copy recipes word-for-word from anyone else. Google can tell when your content isn’t original. I used inspiration from others but always added my voice. I’d say things like, “I learned this method from a friend in Enugu who swears it makes rice fluffier,” because it did. Personal touches like that make readers trust you — and trust is what brings traffic, followers, and eventually, income.
To grow your blog, your design matters too. I kept mine simple. No heavy background, no distracting fonts. A clean white background with good spacing made my food photos stand out. I made sure the pages loaded fast because slow sites turn visitors away. AdSense also checks for that before approval. I compressed my images, removed unnecessary widgets, and kept my homepage focused on recipes. I added an “About Me” page where I told my story — how I started, what food means to me, and what readers could expect from my site. That one page helped my approval too, because it showed I was real, not just another anonymous blog.
Over time, I started thinking beyond ads. I joined affiliate programs for kitchen tools and ingredients. For example, I shared links to where readers could buy measuring cups or local spices. Each time someone clicked and bought, I earned a small commission. It wasn’t huge, but it added up. I also got invited by small food brands to create sponsored posts. At first, I said yes to everything. Later, I learned to choose only brands that matched my style. Authenticity always wins.
There were moments I wanted to quit. The views came slowly, and sometimes I felt like nobody cared. But each time someone commented, “I tried your recipe and my family loved it,” I remembered why I started. Blogging is not a sprint; it’s a quiet journey that rewards consistency. I improved my writing, updated old posts with better keywords, and made sure every image had alt text so Google could understand it. I also kept learning about SEO trends — what kinds of posts people were searching for and how to make my titles stronger without sounding forced.
One lesson that stayed with me is this: a blog grows when you stop chasing perfection and start showing up. Some days my writing felt rough, but I hit publish anyway. Those posts often performed best because they sounded real. Google notices engagement — comments, shares, time spent on your page — and pushes such posts higher. That’s how your food blog becomes visible to more people.
Today, my food blog doesn’t just sit on the internet. It works for me. It earns, it connects, and it tells my story in ways social media alone never could. Starting was the hardest part, but once I got past the fear of not being perfect, everything flowed. If you’re reading this, thinking of starting yours, this is your sign. Begin with what you have. Use your phone, your kitchen, and your own recipes. Tell your story. Post often. Be patient. The money, the traffic, and the recognition will come.
I'm still learning, still improving, but every time someone tries a dish I shared, I know it’s all worth it. That’s what a food blog truly is — not just about money, but about connection, memory, and the joy of sharing something that once lived only in your kitchen. So go ahead and start yours today. It’s your turn to make the internet smell like your food.
Thank you 😊 for stopping by. Don't forget to follow me here.
Love,
Ogochukwu
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