Somewhere between the cake and the band, on the night of our wedding, we were on the phone with a generator company.
That isn't unusual in Nigeria. You can't throw a wedding here without a backup. You can't run a clinic, a cold room, a recording session, a birthday party, a Sunday service. Every important thing in this country quietly runs on a second grid stitched together from generators, inverters, jerry cans, extension cords, and somebody's cousin who lives down the road.

The question we kept circling that night wasn't about our event. It was about the country. Why is renting a generator the most reliable thing you can do with electricity in Nigeria? What is actually going on with the grid?
Nobody could give us a straight answer. Not the discos. Not the regulator. Not friends in the industry, not the internet, not the elders. Everyone had a feeling. Nobody had a number.
By the end of that night we'd more or less decided what to spend the next decade doing. Two things, in this order.
First, understand the grid. Aggregate the readings. Study the failures. Learn exactly when and where the light goes, by area and by hour, so we never have to guess on a client's behalf. You can't plan around a problem you can't see.
Then, power around it. Take everything we learned and put reliable power in the hands of the businesses and events that can't afford to go dark. Sized to their real load, delivered, and run by us. Knowing the grid is only worth something if it keeps somebody's doors open.
Watch the Grid is where we started. It's an open-data project: readings from real streets, aggregated into honest numbers, published for anyone to use.
Volunteers across Nigeria send us short readings from wherever they are: a meter snapshot, a light-on / light-off, a timestamp, a location. That record is how we learned the grid well enough to plan against it: which areas fail, at what hours, in which seasons.
So when a client calls, we're not guessing. We already know what the power is likely to do at their venue that week, and we size and staff their deployment accordingly. The measuring never stops; it's what makes the power we deliver dependable.
We built this for the people who quietly keep the country running: the ones for whom a blackout isn't an inconvenience but a ruined day, a lost contract, spoiled stock, a moment that doesn't come back.
The venue manager with a Saturday wedding and no room for error. The cold-chain operator who can't let the temperature slip. The production running a live shoot. The clinic mid-procedure. The shop floor that has to open on time. When their most important day arrives, the grid is not something they should have to think about. So we think about it for them.
That's the whole job: you plan the day that matters, we make sure the power behind it never blinks.
Bulb is a power company. Not a think tank, not a startup blog, not a chart on a slide. We size, set up, and run reliable power for the businesses and events that can't afford to go dark, and we use everything we know about the grid to do it well.
We're early. We're small. We answer our own phone, and we plan to stay that close to the work for as long as it takes to do it right.
- 01
The power stays on.
Sized to your real load, fully charged, with a technician on site and a backup unit on standby. Our job isn’t done until your day is.
- 02
One price, no surprises.
You get a number up front and that’s the number. No fuel top-ups, no midnight call-out fees, no fine print.
- 03
We plan on real data, not guesses.
We already know how the grid behaves in your area, so we size and staff your deployment for what actually happens, not a hopeful estimate.
- 04
We answer the phone.
Not a call centre, not a chatbot. One of us, usually within the hour, often faster.
If you have a day that can't afford to go dark, that's what we're here for.
Tell us about your event or your business, or just pick up the phone. One of us will answer. Nothing moves to a ticket queue.
The family at Bulb
