Bebe Andrew-Jaja, licensed aesthetician, Senior Laser Technician & founder of Krème Aesthetics Services, shares her inspiring journey of building a beauty and skincare empire from a simple blog, lots of passion and a boatload of tenacity.
For years, global beauty brands have overlooked Africa, dismissing its market potential with shocking indifference. But where others saw a “black hole,” Bebe Andrew-Jaja saw opportunity. Refusing to accept exclusion, she embarked on a mission to bring high-quality skincare and education to Nigerian women, on her own terms.
From cold pitches to sceptical brands, fluctuating economies, and a lack of industry regulation, Bebe Andrew-Jaja has navigated it all. What started as a blog in 2015 evolved into a thriving business, driven by her deep commitment to skincare, technology, and consumer empowerment. Today, as a licensed aesthetician and senior laser technician, she is at the forefront of Nigeria’s beauty revolution, advocating for both accessibility and high standards in an industry still finding its footing.
In this exclusive interview, Bebe Andrew-Jaja shares her journey of resilience, the hard-earned lessons of building a beauty brand from the ground up, and why true power lies in standing in your truth, at every stage of life.
Your journey into skincare from human resources is fascinating. Can you share how it all started?
My interest in skincare began as a teenager. I have very sensitive skin and dermatographia, along with other conditions. Growing up in Nigeria, information was limited, so my mum and I experimented through trial and error. We tried everything, from using nothing at all to relying on Vaseline. Through this process, we bonded, and my curiosity about skincare grew.
As I got older, I pursued my education, earning a master’s degree and working with companies like Diageo and Experian Finance in the UK. I later returned to Nigeria briefly. My mum and I considered starting a spa or wellness business together, but it didn’t materialise. She always emphasised the importance of deeply understanding any business we pursued. She believed that if someone woke you up in the middle of the night, you should be able to answer any question about your field.
While working in the UK, I realised I wasn’t fulfilled. A friend even pointed it out, asking why I didn’t sound happy. That’s when I returned to Nigeria, hoping for a different experience. But the feeling of wanting to do something else stayed with me. When I moved back to the US, my mum encouraged me to go back to school for skincare, reminding me of my natural inclination for it.
A fun fact: My paternal grandmother was the first cosmetologist in Rivers State, where my family is from. My dad often mentioned how I took after her. Growing up, I saw her old styling tools, like heated curlers in a special box. I learned how to roll and pin hair, and people often said, “You’re your grandmother’s daughter.”
When I finally returned to school for skincare, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about it. But I knew I was in the right place from the first day. That initial uncertainty disappeared, and everything clicked. The rest is history.
That’s an incredible journey! How did your experience shape your perspective on the Nigerian beauty industry?
This story begins in 2010, during my first year of cosmetology school. My first day was eye-opening. We received our textbooks, and our instructor, Carla, said, “This is the first time a black person has been featured on the cover of a national cosmetology book.” Everyone was excited, but I was taken aback.
There were only two Black students in my class. As we practiced on each other, I realised there were techniques and products we couldn’t use simply because of our skin type. We were told, “You can’t use this,” or “You can’t do that.” It frustrated me but also piqued my curiosity—why were black people being excluded from certain aspects of the industry?
That experience made me reflect on my struggles growing up in Nigeria. I had difficulty finding suitable skincare solutions, and now I understood why—most products were simply dumped into our market without any genuine consideration for our skin types. This was before Fenty Beauty and the push for inclusivity. At that time, major brands didn’t consider diverse skin tones when formulating products. If Black Americans weren’t properly represented, then Nigeria and Africa as a whole were completely overlooked. That realisation planted the seed for my business.
So, is that what made Nigeria an attractive market for you?
My dad always encouraged us to return home, and this definitely influenced my decision. But more importantly, I knew representation was lacking both in the US and Nigeria. I wasn’t sure how I would build my business at first, but I was certain it needed to happen.
In 2012, I attended a skincare conference where a panel discussion focused on skin in Africa. The first statistic they presented was that over 70% of Nigerian women bleach their skin. Yet, the conversation didn’t go deep enough. They framed it as a social issue without addressing the systemic lack of skincare options for darker skin tones. That was a pivotal moment for me—it reinforced my belief that representation and proper formulation for African skin were critical.
Over time, I realised that Nigeria and Africa were barely considered in global beauty discussions. Things have improved since then, but there’s still a long way to go. The industry often talks about Africa, but what are we actually doing to improve accessibility to products? Every year, we have the same discussions about Nigerian women using skin-bleaching products, but there’s little effort to address the root issues. That frustration drove me to register my business. I wanted to be part of the solution.
That’s such an important perspective. From a business standpoint, how did you navigate the challenges of launching in Nigeria?
One major issue was the availability of authentic beauty products. Counterfeits were rampant, and many brands refused to engage with the Nigerian market. I remember reaching out to a well-known brand, and they bluntly told me, “We’re just not interested.” Their perception of Africa was outdated. I explained that people were already buying their products informally, but they remained unconvinced. That mindset was frustrating, but it motivated me even more.
When I started my business, I focused on bridging that gap. For years, we prominently displayed a banner stating that we were authorised retailers. We only stocked products directly from brands, ensuring quality and authenticity. Trust was another hurdle. Nigerian consumers were sceptical about online purchases, especially since major platforms like Jumia and Konga offered pay-on-delivery. To bridge that trust gap, I leveraged my blog, offered free consultations for two years, engaged directly with customers, and even set up a physical pickup point at my brother’s office in Lagos. Over time, we refined our approach based on consumer behaviour and feedback.
By 2019, I was ready to do things offline and hosted my first pop-up event at Alara. It was a turning point—I met customers face-to-face and confirmed what my data had already shown me. There was real demand for skincare knowledge, not just products. The success of that event led me to open a physical space, though the pandemic delayed things. Losing my father in 2020 made it an even harder year, but I pushed through. Ironically, the lockdown accelerated the shift to e-commerce, helping more Nigerians become comfortable with online shopping.
Every step reinforced my belief in the industry. The Nigerian beauty market is still evolving, but the progress is undeniable. We’re not just selling products—we’re educating, advocating, and shaping a market that’s been overlooked for too long.
We built this from the ground up—without investors or external funding. Every naira earned went straight back into the business. That’s why it took years to finish our physical space, especially with the volatile economy and rising costs of materials. Running a business remotely presented its own challenges. I manage operations from abroad, waking up at 3 a.m. to coordinate everything — from order processing to staff management. But through it all, structure and persistence kept us going.
It’s inspiring to see how you turned challenges into opportunities. Where do you see the Nigerian beauty industry heading in the future?
The industry is changing. More people are recognising the importance of skincare beyond just aesthetics. While there’s still work to be done in terms of accessibility and education, the demand is steadily growing. Nigerian women are discerning consumers who are willing to invest in quality. I hope that more brands will take the market seriously and engage with it properly, rather than treating it as an afterthought.
For me, it’s about more than just selling products. It’s about shifting the narrative and creating lasting change in the skincare approach in Nigeria. And I’m excited to be part of that evolution.
During my research, I reached out to brands directly, trying to bring them into Nigeria. I remember one particular brand, very popular, that invited me to dinner in Austin. When I pitched the idea, they bluntly told me, “We’re just not interested.” I asked why, especially since their products were already being bought informally in Nigeria. Their response? “We look at Africa like a black hole.” I was stunned.
That wasn’t the first time I encountered that mindset. Many brands were reluctant to engage with the market despite the clear demand. I tried to explain that people were already purchasing their products, just without proper distribution or education. Fake versions were rampant, and without a formal presence, customers couldn’t ensure quality. Still, they weren’t interested. It was frustrating yet motivating—it reinforced my belief that Nigeria deserves recognition as a serious market.
The industry is growing beautifully, but it still lacks proper regulation. In places like the US, aestheticians require licences that must be renewed every two years, with ongoing education and insurance. Nigeria doesn’t have that level of regulation, which means unqualified practitioners can easily enter the market. Proper regulations could improve industry standards and ensure consumer safety. More growth will bring more challenges, but I believe structured development is key to sustainability.
You’re absolutely right. What are some major milestones and achievements you’ve had so far since 2012?
My greatest achievement is my team. I pray for them and remind them often that they are truly a blessing. I didn’t know any of them before they applied, but they’ve become the backbone of Kreme. Without them, none of this would be possible.
Another major win is our clientele—we call them the “Kreme Family.” They’re more than customers; they’re like family. They’ve supported us from day one, through lockdowns and economic challenges, and they continue to show up for us. We don’t take that for granted.
Our partnerships have also been huge wins. During our launch, we offered free flash facials sponsored by Le Mieux, one of our brand partners. We also have quarterly international training from our partner brands. Just this morning, we did a Sesimma training with Timeless and Ronda Allison. These brands not only believe in our vision but also actively support our team and business.
As a leading beauty expert, how would you describe the future of beauty in Nigeria?
As a licensed aesthetician and senior laser technician, I see technology playing a much bigger role in aesthetics. We’re already seeing more interest in lasers and advanced skincare treatments. The future will involve integrating skincare with technology—AI, non-invasive treatments, and more advanced techniques that deliver actual results.
For Nigeria, I hope to see more technological advancements improving treatment efficacy. Not that current treatments aren’t effective, but we can push for even better, less invasive solutions. The industry is evolving, and I’m excited to see where it goes.
At Kreme, every skincare treatment starts with a thorough consultation. We take a holistic approach—looking at medical history, genetics, allergies, and even diet. For hair removal consultations, we assess factors like ethnicity and hair type. Someone might look Caucasian but have a mixed ethnic background, which affects how their skin reacts to treatments. After that, we write what we call a “skin program,” designed to be easy to digest and not overwhelming to the client. This is to ensure that the client is getting the best treatment.
For skincare consultations, we analyse everything from diet to medication history. Skin isn’t just about products—it’s influenced by lifestyle, environment, and health. Seasonal changes also affect skin; for example, my routine shifts between winter and summer. We educate clients so they understand how to care for their skin, whether they’re with us or elsewhere.
What does growth look like for your business at the moment?
We have a lot of plans, but for me, right now, it’s about getting visibility. For the future, it’s getting more locations where needed. For me, there are two important sides to our business. There’s the staff, the aestheticians whom I want to pour into. I believe that training is important, and for the industry in Nigeria to grow the right way, it’s important to train the people who will be certified and will continue to do the work. There’s constant training with my staff, there are no downtimes. I want to grow the staff to the point where someone with “Kreme” on their resume is recognized as well-trained and certified.
The other part is the clients. I want them to be empowered with knowledge. I want them to be educated on skincare. Success to me is to grow where we’re needed and add our little way to the industry by putting out aestheticians who know their onions and care about the clients. For the clients, we empower and educate them.
As you know, we’re currently in our Power Issue, so what does power mean to you, as a person and entrepreneur?
To me, power means standing in your truth at every stage of life. As women, we go through different phases—being young, becoming mothers, building careers—and each phase requires us to embrace who we are. Power is also being honest with myself, accepting where I am, and moving forward from that place.
I remember one of my first consultations in Nigeria back in 2016. A young girl, just 18 years old, reached out to me. She was struggling with acne—something many of us go through—and she was deeply insecure about her appearance. I’ll never forget the message she sent me. She said, “I want to kill myself because I don’t like the way I look.” My heart broke. That was a pivotal moment for me. We worked together, and over time, her skin improved. But beyond that, what mattered most was shifting her mindset—helping her see that she was beautiful just as she was. Years later, she sent me another message, thanking me and telling me how much she now loves how she looks. That, to me, is everything.
This is what I mean when I talk about empowerment. It’s not just about skincare—it’s about self-love, confidence, and embracing who you are. If you walk into our studio, you’ll see a scripture on our wall: You are a masterpiece. That’s the foundation of everything we do. I’m not trying to change people. My job is to help them see the beauty they already have, and then, if they want to enhance something in a healthy way, we support that.
