| By Daniel Ojo
When the tools meant to free creativity begin to fence it in, design stops feeling like art and starts looking like rent. That quiet tension sits at the heart of today’s design world, where a few platforms have become so dominant that they no longer just serve designers; they shape how design itself happens. In recent years, tools like Figma and Adobe have moved from being helpful software to becoming core infrastructure. If you want to design a product, collaborate with a team, or hand off work to developers, chances are you must pass through one of them. According to Daniel Ojo, an expert digital product strategist who has worked closely with design teams across Africa, this shift deserves more scrutiny than it gets.
Daniel sees the issue not as a battle between brands, but as a question of power. When only a few tools define how files are created, shared, and stored, they quietly set the rules for everyone else. “Once a tool becomes the default language of design,” he explains, “it stops being optional. And when it’s no longer optional, innovation slows down around it.” His concern is not that Figma or Adobe are bad tools; they are widely loved for good reason, but that their dominance leaves little room for alternatives to breathe.
In Nigeria, the effects of this dominance feel especially sharp. The local tech ecosystem is young, fast-moving, and highly cost-sensitive. Many startups begin with small teams, tight budgets, and big ideas. Design tools are often one of their first major expenses. A Lagos-based startup founder recently shared how their team tried switching to a cheaper design alternative, only to abandon it weeks later because investors, contractors, and even interns insisted on Figma files. The tool had become a gatekeeper, not because it was perfect, but because everyone else was already inside. This creates a subtle but powerful lock-in. Designers learn one tool because that is what the market demands. Companies hire based on tool familiarity, not design thinking. New tools struggle to gain users, not because they are worse, but because they cannot easily read or write the same files. Daniel points out that this is where competition quietly dies. “If your tool can’t open the files everyone else uses, you’re not competing on ideas anymore. You’re competing against a wall.”
The consequences go beyond pricing. When a few companies control design workflows, they also influence standards. How components are named, how collaboration works, how feedback is given, all of these choices shape how products are built. In Nigeria, where teams often work remotely across cities like Lagos, Ibadan, and Abuja, collaboration features matter deeply. But when those features live inside closed systems, local developers and toolmakers cannot build around them. The ecosystem becomes dependent, not creative. There have been attempts to push back. A few Nigerian-led startups have explored lightweight design or prototyping tools tailored to local needs, such as low bandwidth use or simpler interfaces for non-designers. Most struggle to gain traction. Users like the ideas, but still ask the same question: “Can I export this to Figma?” That question alone shows who holds the real power.
Daniel believes open standards are the missing piece. In simple terms, open standards mean design files that any tool can read and improve on. He compares it to documents. “Imagine if you could only open a Word document in Microsoft Word,” he says. “The internet wouldn’t work the way it does today.” Without shared standards, design remains trapped inside private systems, and innovation happens only at the permission of those who own them.
This matters for the future of work in Nigeria. As more young people enter tech through design, they often self-taught and community-driven the tools they learn to shape how they think. If experimentation is limited to what one platform allows, creativity narrows. If pricing changes or features are removed, entire teams feel it overnight. The attempted acquisition of Figma by Adobe, though eventually blocked, exposed just how fragile this balance is. One deal nearly placed even more control into fewer hands. None of this suggests that designers should abandon the tools they rely on today. Daniel is clear about that. The real question is whether the industry, regulators, and communities are paying attention early enough. Monopolies rarely arrive loudly. They settle in slowly, disguised as convenience. Nigeria’s design and tech ecosystem is growing rapidly, and the choices made now will shape who gets to build the next generation of tools and who must simply adapt to them. If design is the language of modern products, then the future depends on whether that language remains open or becomes owned.
