Making it big, living It large: On Femi Otedola’s lantern for dreamers

I have always admired men who make history with quiet thunder, men who do not announce themselves with noise but with the steady pulse of deeds that cannot be ignored. Femi Otedola is one such man. Yes! And now, with the release of his memoir, Making It Big, he has extended his empire of influence beyond oil fields, power plants, and boardrooms, into the delicate and enduring landscape of literature. He has written a book that Nigerians at home and abroad now celebrate as a manual for aspiration, a guidebook of survival, a business bible clothed in prose as simple as it is sublime.

When the news first broke that Otedola was ready to share his journey in a book, many anticipated a heavy tome written for elites, laced with abstractions only financiers could decode. Instead, what he has delivered is a memoir so lucid and unpretentious that artisans in Oshodi, bankers in Marina, students in Zaria, and professionals in London are all drinking from the same fountain. The 298-page volume has become an unexpected bridge across Nigeria’s stubborn class divides. It is a book as comfortable in the hands of a market woman on a bus to Agege as it is on the mahogany desk of a Lagos boardroom.

Everywhere I turn, the conversation is the same. A young entrepreneur in Abuja tells me that reading Making It Big felt like sitting across from a mentor who did not withhold any truth. A banker in Victoria Island gushes about how the book opened new ways of thinking about risk. A lecturer friend in Manchester, United Kingdom (UK), writing on social media, calls it “the African business gospel according to Otedola.”

Yet these rave reviews weren’t orchestrated. They are organic, flowing like the Nile across cities and villages. Online sales platforms report it climbing the charts, outselling novels, topping lists that once seemed allergic to African business memoirs. The paperback vanishes quickly from shelves in Lagos and Abuja; the hardcover, at its higher price, is bought with equal hunger by those who want to hold in their hands a relic of Otedola’s mind.

People say it is easy to read, that its lessons come wrapped in stories that do not intimidate. They say it is educational without being didactic, inspiring without being indulgent. And I agree. The pages are alive with candor, warmth, and practical wisdom. Otedola does not pontificate; he converses. He does not intimidate; he instructs.

I know firsthand that this generosity is not limited to his writing. During the South West Games 2025, which I had the privilege to host, I witnessed Otedola’s capacity to give of himself without hesitation. At a time when his schedule overflowed with global engagements and corporate duties, he dropped everything to stand with us. He supported the initiative wholeheartedly, offering encouragement, influence, and resources. He did not treat it as another social obligation; he treated it as a calling. His faith in the power of youth and regional pride resonated through every gesture of his support.

I still recall his words of affirmation and his willingness to leverage his goodwill on behalf of the Games. It was a moment that reminded me that Femi Otedola is more than a business mogul, he is a steward of hope, a man whose philanthropy and human touch breathe life into causes that would otherwise languish unsupported.

That same spirit of commitment shines through Making It Big. The memoir wasn’t put together in a hurry. It took seven years—years of interviews across Lagos, Monte Carlo, Paris, New York, London, and Dubai. It took long conversations with Kunle Bakare and Simon Kolawole, two seasoned journalists who helped Otedola excavate his past with tenderness and precision. It took patience, reflection, and the humility to revisit moments of doubt, failure, and triumph.

This long gestation explains the richness of the text. Every chapter feels lived-in, every anecdote deeply considered. He writes not as a conqueror dictating from a throne but as a pilgrim willing to bare his scars.

And then, there are the endorsements, thunderous affirmations from three of Africa’s most respected voices: Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, Akinwumi Adesina, and Aliko Dangote. They each recognize what we all sense: that Making It Big is not a vanity project, but a necessary gift to posterity. Okonjo-Iweala calls it important for the younger generation. Adesina calls it a masterclass in mindset. Dangote calls it an enriching account that connects corporate dots for aspiring entrepreneurs. Their voices, heavy with credibility, frame the memoir as a text that history itself demanded.

To read the book is to glimpse the Otedola I have long admired: the boy from Odoragunsin who issued receipts at six, the trader who dared to play in oil, the investor who turned around Forte Oil, the power magnate who built Geregu into a publicly listed phenomenon, the banking reformer who shook FirstHoldCo into new profit heights. But also the man of compassion, the philanthropist who supports Save the Children UK, the chancellor of Augustine University, the patron who gives without fanfare.

What strikes me most is that he has now added another feather: the literary craftsman. To sculpt a memoir of such clarity is no small feat. It requires not only memory but artistry, not only experience but narrative grace. Otedola has shown that his genius extends beyond business strategy into the more delicate realm of words.

What this book represents for me, and for millions who have encountered it, is a lantern for dreamers. It affirms that success is not linear, that fortunes rise and fall, that resilience is the ultimate currency. It says to the hustler on the street and the executive in the tower alike: your story can be rewritten, your dreams are not too audacious.

Every receipt scribbled by a child, every idea mooted in a crowded room, every venture dismissed by doubters; all these can become the preface of a mighty memoir. Otedola’s book sings this truth, and Nigerians are singing it back with applause and gratitude.

Today, when I scroll through social media, I see students quoting his lines, bankers recommending the book in meetings, diaspora communities in London and Houston sharing photos with their copies. I see people from different walks of life, all drinking from the same well. Making It Big has certainly assumed a life of its own beyond its launch; it has become a movement.

And I celebrate that movement with joy, because it is rare to see one man straddle oil, power, banking, philanthropy, and now literature with such balance, such authenticity.

When I hold Making It Big in my hands, I do not merely hold a book. I hold a mirror and map. I hold the distilled wisdom of a man I respect deeply, not only for his wealth, but for his generosity, vision, humanity, and now his literary courage.

Femi Otedola has given us an inheritance richer than naira or dollars. He has given us his story, unwrapped in prose, glowing like a lantern for generations yet unborn. And for that, I am grateful.

Making It Big is here, and it is already living up to its name.