Ibeji Farms asks what would happen if we gave Nigerian livestock the best?

On certain menus around the world, beef is branded. There’s Wagyu, famously coddled in Japan with massages and marbled perfection. Angus, known for its dense, rich texture, hails from centuries of selective breeding in Scotland. Even Hereford, once a provincial name, now signals premium cuts in supermarkets from Birmingham to Brisbane.

These meats didn’t get their reputations by chance. Their fame is a product of genetics, yes, but also of infrastructure, of ranches built around animal welfare, feed science, breeding logs, and slaughterhouse consistency. 

In Nigeria, meat doesn’t carry that kind of branding. A cow is simply “cow.” It is bought live or by the hunk. Meat is butchered, but rarely broken into cuts anyone calls by name. But what if that could change?

It’s the kind of question that led two brothers to start Ibeji Farms, a small but deliberate livestock farm that asks: What would happen if we gave Nigerian livestock the best in class treatment in the world? Not simply feed and shelter, but systems, intentional breeding, clean slaughterhouses, cold-chain logistics, and the pursuit of quality yield.

“We have everything here,” one of the co-founders said. “Cow, lamb, ram, chicken, rabbit, duck. But it all comes down to farming practices, that’s where we miss.”

What Ibeji Farms set out to do isn’t just sell meat. It’s to ask a question about potential. Because if Nigerian livestock has the biology and the country has the appetite, why hasn’t the system caught up?

The Nigerian Reality: How We Raise Our Livestock

Cattle in much of Nigeria, especially in the north, are raised in free-range pastoral systems. Herds are marched across long distances in search of grass and water. It’s a system that has sustained generations but one that exacts a toll on the animal.

“The cows trek for days, like from Lagos to Abuja” Ibeji explained. “By the time they reach the market, they’ve lost weight. They’re stressed. All of that affects the quality of the meat.”

Stressed cattle develop tougher meat due to higher levels of lactic acid and lower glycogen reserves. This makes the meat more prone to what’s known in meat science as DFD—dark, firm, and dry a texture few chefs would aspire to serve.

Pasture quality is another issue. In the dry season, grazing options shrink drastically, and herders are left to travel farther or feed what’s available, often low-nutrient grasses or leftover crop stalks. Feed supplementation is rare, veterinary care even rarer, and water is often inconsistent or shared with other livestock.

“A lot of the problems with livestock here come down to management,” the Ibeji team emphasized. “Simple, science-backed tweaks like clean water tanks, better housing, feed timing, immunization, can make a massive difference. But the knowledge of this isn’t widespread.”

At Ibeji, part of the mission is educating both sellers and buyers on the idea that meat can have structure, both in rearing and butchering. In their own facility, they process ribeye, brisket, and other premium cuts. But few consumers know to ask for them.

“Even the butchers often don’t know the cuts,” they said. “There’s no scale, no weights, no language. That’s why we started, to introduce the idea that our meat can be as refined as anyone else’s.”

Is There Proof Nigerian Livestock Can Compete?

A general unspoken assumption in Nigeria is that ‘imported’ is better. Ibeji farms disputes that assumption.

“We have a local cow here called the Sokoto Gudali,” the Ibeji founders point out. “It’s an excellent producer of milk. But again, it comes down to farming practices. If they were in a better quality system, it would increase productivity and quality of milk.”

In some dairy trials, Gudali cows produced up to five liters of milk daily, a significant leap from the one or two liters seen in traditional systems.

“When we’ve applied better practices, even just small things, better hygiene, stress reduction, proper feed, you see the difference immediately,” Ibeji said. “In weight, in behavior, in yield.”

According to FAO reports, the potential productivity gap in African livestock can be as high as 300%. That means many animals raised in the continent are operating at a fraction of their potential due to underfeeding, stress, or poor breeding selection. 

So what would it take for Nigeria’s livestock to contribute meaningfully?

The Infrastructure Problem and the Road to Transformation

According to Ibeji farms, produce in Nigeria moves along a very fragmented value chain. This affects both farmers and end consumers as the distribution process becomes reactive, designed around what the roads allow, not what quality demands. Farmers calculate in wear and tear, in how many trips a car can make before it breaks, in how much profit will survive the journey.

Cold storage is existent but barely so. Only 10% of Nigeria’s produce passes through cold storage.

“We don’t even try to store meat,” Ibeji tells us. “We kill fresh and sell fresh. A cold room alone can cost up to a million naira a month just to run. This doesn’t include meat costs.”

For many small-scale farmers, that cost is untenable. Even large farms, though better resourced, cannot meet the national demand. And while third-party cold storage logistics exist, they bring with them fragmented markups. 

“What could be a single trip from point A to B becomes A to B to C to D, each stop raising the price and lowering the quality. It’s why a cow from Jos somehow becomes expensive despite being transported within the same country.” Ibeji says. 

This dysfunction extends beyond transport. Most slaughterhouses operate with minimal sanitation. Meat is sold open-air, with no temperature control. Nigeria’s meat market remains largely informal, guided mostly by tradition.

Reimagining the System – What It Would Take to Get There

For Ibeji Farms, the path forward is paved with incremental, persistent improvements. Specifically with education, access and funding.

“We need to start by changing the narrative around agriculture,” they say. “Right now, the average Nigerian farmer is over 50 years old. But the average Nigerian is just 18.”

Many smallholder farmers remain tied to traditional methods. “Farmers are stuck in their ways,” Ibeji says. “And to be fair, their ways have worked up to a point. But with better education and more research and development, the scale of what we could achieve is unimaginable.”

Young people, who are more likely to embrace innovation and technology, are not drawn to agriculture. It has been cast as labor-intensive, unrewarding, and dirty. 

“In England, they have farming universities, farmers look cool. In Nigeria, we don’t even make agriculture look like a job you should be proud of.”

To fix that, Ibeji argues, it needs youth-targeted education. But it also needs something far more structural: access to land, roads, and capital. As without proper infrastructure, even the best farming techniques collapse under the weight of distribution inefficiency.

So, What Happens If We Give Nigerian Livestock the Best?

This question is at the heart of Ibeji Farms’ work. What if we gave our livestock what Wagyu cattle in Japan or Angus herds in Scotland have had for decades, specialized feed, science-driven care, clean water, stress-free handling, genetics tracking, temperature control?

Globally, the path from ordinary to premium in agriculture has always started with belief. Someone believed Wagyu could be more than a regional delicacy. Someone turned everyday produce into prized exports. What’s missing in Nigeria is the system that empowers.

“The government needs to be more intentional about agriculture. It’s one thing to hold seminars and functions, but you need to give the people what they need. There has to be a plan, both to teach and empower, so everyone benefits at the end of the day.”

In the Ibeji vision, Nigeria becomes a country known not only for producing meat, but for producing great meat.