For a long time, I thought working from home was one of the smartest decisions I had made for my small artisan business.
It saved me rent. I did not have to worry about commuting to a workshop every morning, and I could start working whenever I wanted. If a customer called late in the evening, I could simply walk into the room where I kept my materials and check an order.
From the outside, it looked convenient.
For a while, it really was.
I started my business on a very small scale, so paying for a separate workshop did not make much sense. I had limited orders, limited equipment and even more limited money. Spending a large part of my income on a dedicated workspace would have put unnecessary pressure on the business.
My home became my workshop.
Materials found their way into corners of the house. Finished products occupied tables and chairs. Packaging materials were kept wherever I could find space. When an order was ready, I would clear a small area, take photographs and prepare it for dispatch.
I told myself that I would eventually move into a proper workspace when the business became bigger.
What I did not realise was that the definition of "bigger" would not simply be about sales.
The business was becoming difficult to manage from home long before I considered myself ready for a workshop.
The final decision to move was not caused by one dramatic incident. It happened gradually, through a series of small problems that kept appearing until I could no longer ignore them.
Eventually, I decided to try a shared workshop in Lagos.
I expected the move to be mainly about having more space.
It turned out to be about much more than space.
Why Working From Home Made Sense in the Beginning
When I look back at the early stage of the business, I do not regret starting from home.
In fact, I would probably make the same decision again if I were starting with very little capital.
An artisan business can have many expenses before the first serious customer arrives. There are raw materials, tools, transportation, packaging, electricity, internet, marketing and all the little expenses that seem insignificant individually but become noticeable at the end of the month.
Adding workshop rent to that list would have made things harder.
Working from home allowed me to test whether people were actually willing to pay for my products before taking on another major expense.
That was valuable.
I could produce a small number of items, show them to potential customers and accept orders without immediately committing the business to a commercial property.
There was also the issue of flexibility.
If I had an order to complete at night, I could work on it without travelling anywhere. If a customer wanted to collect something early in the morning, I was already there.
For a business that was still finding its feet, those advantages mattered.
The problem was that I eventually stopped operating like a very small home-based business while still using the same home-based arrangement.
That is where things started changing.
My House Slowly Started Looking Like a Workshop
At first, the materials were manageable.
I could keep them in a box or on a shelf.
Then I started buying more materials because I wanted to avoid running out whenever an order came in. Before long, I had different colours, sizes, tools and unfinished pieces competing for the same limited space.
There was a point when I would walk into the room and immediately start thinking about where I had put something.
That was not how I wanted to spend my working day.
Instead of reaching for a material and getting started, I sometimes had to move three other things first.
Finished products created another problem.
A customer might place an order today, but the item might not be collected or dispatched until later. That meant completed products had to stay somewhere safe while I continued producing new ones.
The house was gradually becoming a mixture of home, storage room, production area and office.
I had created a business environment without actually creating a business workspace.
The Problem Was Not Just Space
Initially, I thought the answer was simply to find a bigger room at home.
Then I realised that space was only one part of the problem.
There was also concentration.
When you work from home, there is always something else competing for your attention.
Someone may need something.
A phone call may interrupt you.
There may be household chores.
A visitor may arrive.
You may decide to eat first and then return to work.
Then a customer sends a WhatsApp message asking whether an order is ready.
Before you realise it, an hour has disappeared.
The problem is particularly noticeable when your work requires concentration.
An artisan may spend a long time measuring, cutting, sewing, shaping, painting, assembling, finishing or checking details. A small interruption can break the flow of the work.
I started noticing that I was spending more time switching between tasks than I wanted.
I would begin production, answer a customer, check a delivery message, look for a material, return to production and then realise I had forgotten where I stopped.
The business was growing, but my working environment had not grown with it.
Customers Started Treating My Home Like a Shop
This was another issue I had not anticipated.
Once some customers knew that I worked from home, a few started asking if they could come and see products.
At first, I did not mind.
If somebody wanted to buy something, why would I refuse them?
But gradually, the situation became uncomfortable.
A customer might say they were "around the area" and wanted to pass by.
Another might want to bring a friend.
Someone else might want to inspect several products before deciding what to buy.
There is nothing inherently wrong with customers wanting to see products physically.
The problem was that my home was not a showroom.
It was my private space.
I did not have a proper reception area. I did not have a dedicated display area. Sometimes unfinished work was sitting around, and I did not want customers walking into the middle of production.
I eventually realised that mixing my private home with customer visits was not sustainable.
I Was Also Becoming Too Available
Working from home created another psychological problem.
Because my workshop was only a few steps away, I felt like I should always be working.
If there was an unfinished order at 10 p.m., I could work on it.
If a customer sent a message at 11 p.m., I could answer.
If I suddenly remembered something about an order while eating, I could go and check it.
There was no physical separation between working time and personal time.
The business was always there.
That sounds like an advantage when you are trying to build something, but it can become exhausting.
I started realising that being able to work at any time did not mean that I should work at every possible time.
A dedicated workspace gave me something I had not realised I needed.
A place to leave the business when the working day was over.
The Electricity Problem Was Bigger Than I Expected
Power was another factor.
At home, I was already using electricity for normal household activities. Adding business equipment and production work increased the demand.
When power went off, I sometimes had to decide whether to run the generator.
If I was only doing a small amount of work, the fuel did not always feel justified.
But if I had an urgent order, I might have no choice.
This created an awkward situation where my household electricity expenses and business electricity expenses were mixed together.
I could not always tell how much the business was actually consuming.
Moving to a dedicated workspace made me think differently about electricity.
Instead of treating power as something happening in the background, I started viewing it as a production expense.
That made it easier to understand what the business actually required to operate.
I Started Looking at Shared Workshops Differently
Before this experience, I associated shared workspaces mainly with people who worked on laptops.
When I heard the phrase "shared workspace," I imagined desks, Wi-Fi and people sitting with computers.
I did not initially think of it as something that could be useful to artisans.
Then I started discovering that Lagos has spaces designed around creative work, production and collaboration. The Lagos State Employment Trust Fund's Eko Hub model specifically includes shared infrastructure for artisans and creatives, with the Yaba fashion hub supporting people across parts of the fashion value chain.
There are also creative spaces in Lagos that combine workspace, studios, workshops and community activities. Some are designed around particular creative disciplines, while others provide more general environments for creators.
That changed my thinking.
I realised that I did not necessarily need to rent an entire building or expensive standalone workshop.
I needed a workspace that matched the stage of my business.
That distinction was important.
Why I Chose a Shared Workshop Instead of Renting a Whole Shop
The obvious option would have been to rent my own commercial space.
But I was not convinced that I needed one yet.
A private workshop would mean paying for the entire space regardless of how much I used it.
There would be rent, electricity, security, maintenance and other responsibilities.
A shared workspace gave me another option.
Instead of paying for everything myself, I could pay for access to a space and use the facilities available there.
That arrangement made more sense for the stage of my business.
I was not looking for a prestigious address.
I was looking for somewhere I could actually work.
That meant I cared more about practical things than appearance.
Could I bring my tools?
Was there enough working space?
Could I safely store materials?
Was the electricity reliable enough for my type of work?
Could I work without disturbing other people?
Could customers visit when necessary?
How were shared facilities handled?
Those questions became more important than whether the building looked impressive.
The First Day in the New Workspace Felt Strange
The first day I moved some of my materials into the shared workshop, I noticed something immediately.
I was more focused.
There was nothing at the workspace that was unrelated to the business.
I did not have household chores waiting nearby.
I did not have to move family belongings before starting work.
I did not have customers entering my living space.
I could arrive, organise my materials and begin.
That sounds simple, but it made a noticeable difference.
I also began separating different types of work.
Production happened at the workshop.
Some customer communication could happen from my phone.
Photography could be done in a designated area when available.
Stock could be organised separately from household belongings.
The business started feeling like a business.
I Did Not Suddenly Become More Profitable
I want to make this clear because moving into a workspace can sound like a magical solution.
It was not.
My sales did not suddenly double because I changed location.
Customers did not automatically appear.
A shared workshop did not solve every problem.
What changed was the environment in which I was doing the work.
That distinction matters.
If an artisan has poor products, weak customer service or no demand, renting a workspace will not magically solve those problems.
The workspace has to support an existing business need.
For me, the benefit was mainly operational.
I could work more comfortably.
I could organise materials better.
I could separate production from home life.
I could receive certain customers without bringing them into my personal space.
Those improvements had value even though they did not immediately appear as additional sales.
The Social Side Was an Unexpected Benefit
One of the things I did not expect was how useful it would be to work around other people who were also building creative businesses.
When you work alone at home, you can become trapped inside your own way of doing things.
At the shared workspace, I met people working on different projects.
Some were dealing with problems I had experienced.
Others approached production differently.
Sometimes a simple conversation could save me hours of trying to figure something out alone.
This did not mean everyone became a business partner.
Most people were simply working on their own projects.
But being around other creatives created an environment where questions, ideas and recommendations could happen naturally.
Lagos already has a growing ecosystem of creative spaces built around collaboration and community, and that became more apparent to me after I started looking for a suitable place to work.
I Became More Serious About Organising My Materials
At home, I could tolerate a certain amount of disorder.
At the shared workspace, I became more conscious of it.
I could not simply leave materials everywhere because other people were using the space.
That forced me to develop better habits.
I started grouping materials by type.
I separated unfinished work from completed orders.
I became more deliberate about storing tools after use.
I labelled some items.
I also started keeping a better record of what I had available.
Ironically, sharing a workspace helped me become more organised than having an entire room to myself.
When space is limited, you learn quickly that everything needs a place.
Storage Became One of My Biggest Concerns
There was one part of the arrangement that I underestimated.
Shared workspace does not automatically mean unlimited storage.
I had to think carefully about what I brought with me.
Some materials were needed every day.
Others were only used occasionally.
I could not simply transport everything I owned to the workspace.
That forced me to become more disciplined about inventory.
I started asking whether I actually needed to keep certain materials.
I also became more conscious of buying large quantities simply because a supplier offered a slightly better price.
A discount is not necessarily a saving if the material occupies space for months and ties up business money.
The workspace therefore changed not only where I worked but also how I thought about inventory.
I Had to Think About Security Differently
Moving valuable tools and materials outside my home meant that security became important.
At home, I knew who was around.
In a shared environment, I had to understand the rules.
Who had access?
Were there controlled entry points?
Could I leave equipment overnight?
Was there a secure storage arrangement?
What happened if something went missing?
These questions were not signs that I distrusted everyone.
They were simply part of running a business responsibly.
I learned that before moving into any shared workspace, I needed to understand the practical arrangements rather than assuming everything would work itself out.
I Started Calculating the Workspace Cost Differently
At first, I compared the workspace fee directly with the rent of a private shop.
That was not the best comparison.
The real question was what I was getting for the money.
If the shared space gave me access to electricity, working tables, certain equipment, security, a professional environment and a place to receive clients, then its value could not be measured against rent alone.
At the same time, I needed to make sure I was actually using those benefits.
There is no point paying for access to a facility that I rarely visit.
That became one of my rules.
Before paying for any workspace, I needed to understand my expected usage.
If I only needed somewhere to work two days a week, a full-time arrangement might not make sense.
If production had increased to the point where I needed the space almost every day, the calculation would be different.
The Move Also Changed How Customers Saw the Business
I did not move primarily to impress customers.
But I noticed a difference in how some people reacted when I could tell them I had a dedicated workspace.
There is a psychological difference between saying, "I make these things at home" and saying, "I have a workshop where I produce them."
Neither statement means that the second business is automatically better.
A home-based artisan can produce excellent work.
But customers sometimes use physical signals to judge whether a business appears established.
A proper workspace can provide some of those signals.
However, I became careful not to confuse appearance with substance.
A beautiful studio does not guarantee good products.
A modest workshop does not mean poor quality.
The work still has to speak for itself.
I Did Not Abandon Home Completely
Moving to a shared workshop did not mean everything had to happen there.
Some administrative work could still be done from home.
I could answer messages, review orders and handle certain business tasks from my phone or computer.
What changed was the location of production.
That separation worked better for me.
Home became home again.
The workshop became the place where I made things.
That simple distinction gave me a mental boundary that I had been missing.
What I Would Check Before Choosing Another Shared Workshop
If I had to choose another workspace today, I would pay much more attention to the actual working conditions.
I would want to see the facility before paying.
I would ask how power is handled.
I would ask whether artisans can bring their own tools.
I would ask about storage.
I would find out whether there are restrictions on noise, materials or equipment.
I would ask about opening hours and whether I can work when I need to.
I would also want to understand what happens when equipment breaks.
Most importantly, I would talk to people already using the space.
A brochure can tell you what a workspace promises.
Existing users can tell you what it is actually like.
Was Moving Out of My Home Worth It?
For me, yes.
But I would not recommend that every artisan immediately leave home and rent a workspace.
The timing matters.
When I was just starting, working from home was probably the right choice.
I did not have enough production volume to justify another major expense.
The problem came later, when the business had developed enough needs that home was becoming a limitation.
That was when the calculation changed.
The right question is not, "Should an artisan work from home?"
The better question is, "At what point does working from home begin to restrict the business more than it saves money?"
For me, that point came when production, storage, customer visits and concentration were all becoming problems at the same time.
The Biggest Lesson Was Not About Rent
The biggest lesson from the move was that business infrastructure does not have to arrive all at once.
When I first started, I thought there were only two choices.
Either work from home or rent a complete workshop.
I eventually discovered there could be something in between.
A shared workspace allowed me to access a professional environment without immediately taking on the full responsibility of a standalone property.
That idea changed how I think about growing a small artisan business.
Growth does not always mean buying more equipment, renting a bigger shop or hiring more people.
Sometimes growth means finding a better way to use the resources that already exist.
What I Wish I Had Known Before Starting From Home
If I could go back to the beginning, I would still start from home.
But I would set clearer boundaries from day one.
I would create a dedicated production area instead of allowing materials to spread throughout the house.
I would establish working hours.
I would tell customers clearly when collections were available.
I would avoid making my home an informal showroom.
I would keep better inventory records.
I would also start researching alternative workspace options earlier, even if I was not ready to move immediately.
That way, I would know what was available when the need eventually arose.
The Bottom Line
Moving my artisan business from my home to a shared workshop in Lagos was not a decision I made because working from home was a failure.
Working from home had served me well.
It allowed me to start with less money, test the market and build the business without taking on unnecessary rent.
The problem was that the business eventually changed.
My production needs changed.
My storage needs changed.
My customer interactions changed.
My need for concentration changed.
Even my understanding of what a workspace should provide changed.
That was when staying at home stopped being the obvious choice.
The move gave me something I had not realised I needed: separation.
I could leave home without feeling that I was abandoning work.
I could leave the workshop without feeling that I was abandoning my personal life.
I could organise production properly.
I could keep materials in one place.
I could meet certain customers in a more appropriate environment.
I could also work around other creatives and learn from people facing some of the same challenges.
But the experience also taught me not to romanticise shared workspaces.
They cost money.
They have rules.
They may have limitations.
Storage may be restricted.
Power arrangements may vary.
Not every workspace will suit every type of artisan.
The important thing is to choose based on what the business actually needs.
For a new artisan with only a few orders every month, home may still be the smartest option.
For another artisan producing every day, storing large amounts of material and receiving customers regularly, a dedicated or shared workspace may eventually make more sense.
There is no universal answer.
The mistake would be making the decision based only on what other business owners are doing.
I used to think that moving into a workshop would be a sign that my business had finally become successful.
I see it differently now.
A workspace is not a trophy.
It is a tool.
If it helps you produce better, organise your materials, serve customers more effectively and separate your business from your personal life, it can be worth the cost.
If it simply gives you a nice place to say you work from while consuming money the business cannot afford to lose, it may be the wrong move.
My journey from a small production corner at home to a shared artisan workspace taught me that growth is not always about making the business look bigger.
Sometimes it is about making the business easier to operate.
And for me, that was the real reason I eventually moved out of the house.