TheCable

A few days ago, I had an early night. I slept at 7:30pm — quite early for someone who normally goes to bed at 9pm. I woke up at 2am, took a leak and thought to continue my journey, but I was stranded. I started rolling — like Neymar, the footballer — on the bed for over an hour. I feared unwittingly enlisting the innocent missus into the vigil, so I decided to go into the study to do some work. No time to waste. That was when it dawned on me that I was yet to read ‘Vantage’, the book authored by Mr Olumide Soyombo. He had sent a complimentary copy to my office but I have been out of the country. Unsure of when I would return, I had ordered another copy on Amazon.

Soyombo, 40, is the co-founder of Bluechip Technologies, one of the most successful Nigerian tech startups, and Voltron Capital, through which he acts as an angel investor. He is quite humble and friendly — something you would not normally say about most Nigerians who grew up in affluent homes, much less those who have assets worth millions of dollars. Soyombo became my “electronic” pal exactly six years ago. We are in the same WhatsApp group where we discuss socio-political and economic issues with openness and mutual respect and, most importantly, from the position of knowledge. In this group, nobody talks rudely, shares fake news or spreads ethno-religious hate.

‘Vantage’ offers limitless anecdotes that stir up hope about what is possible in our dearly beloved country and, at the same, instigate frustration about how low we are still flying. Soyombo tells the story of his big break at 24 when his father gave him a loan/equity of $40,000 in 2008 to co-found Bluechips Technologies with Kazeem Tewogbade — my emphasis being on “loan”, not grant or gift as many rich kids would expect of their fathers. It turned out his father did not pamper him but, instead, mentored him on self-discovery and taking responsibility. Only God knows how many wealthy parents have constrained the entrepreneurial capacity of their kids by spoon-feeding them.

There are many things to enjoy about ‘Vantage’ — such as the amusing details of Soyombo’s youthful exuberance; how naira depreciation prevented him from writing the SAT exam through which he wanted to “japa” to the US where, ironically, he might have ended up as an also-ran; how failing UMTE — because his mind was fixed on the US — changed his career dreams from studying medicine to enrolling for computer science at the University of Lagos, Africa’s greatest university; and how tech launched him into the league of genuine billionaires — not the ones who become stinking rich by tampering with public funds or fronting for those who do. It is an amazing journey to destiny.

Here is the aspect of ‘Vantage’ that inspired my article today. At the age of 12, Soyombo had the luxury of unhindered access to an internet-ready computer in his father’s living room. That, I believe, was the beginning of a new season in his life. He fell in love with Windows ’95, PowerPoint and CorelDRAW. Internet was not for every Maduka, Musa and Mayowa. As he himself readily says, his vantage position of having a wealthy mentor in his father helped his journey. Many rich kids find it hard to spot opportunities, but not the young boy from Iperu Remo, Ogun state, who started helping people register email addresses and charging them for his time, knowledge and other resources.

That was the beginning of a journey that would ultimately see him co-build a tech company that specialises in data privacy, software licensing and databases. That would further see him engineer the birth of a seed capital investment company in the tech sector whose portfolio boasts of Piggyvest, Paystack and Moniepoint. Here is my core interest: when you strip the Soyombo story bare, you see the impact of technology in wealth creation and societal evolution. Technology has changed the stories of Soyombo and millions of Nigerians, which is the good news, but how much of our government and governance structures has technology changed? That is the not-so-good news.

You should have seen me smiling childishly when a friend sent the clip of an old TV commercial of Equitorial Trust Bank (ETB) to me some weeks ago. It brought back memories. It featured Lomaji Ugorji, the court clerk in Icheoku — the satirical, Igbo-language series that ran on the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) network in the 1980s and 1990s — and Mr Ohi Alegbe, the marketing communications guru. The commercial, released in 1992 or thereabouts, is one of my all-time favourites. It featured Ugorji going to a branch of ETB to withdraw cash while Alegbe was smartly dressed in suit and tie — the trademark of bankers. Alegbe was cast as an official of the bank.

The banking hall used to be one hell of a place. You had to wait for hours to withdraw cash. Ugorji was holding a mat, apparently prepared to sleep in the banking hall to be able to withdraw what was presumably a small amount of money. He met Alegbe in the premises of the bank and asked if he worked there so that he could use his influence to get quick service. Alegbe said it was unnecessary and asked what he was doing with a mat. Ugorji laughed, replying in his trademark English: “Bombastic asking! You see a man wey dey go catch fish you dey ask am why he dey hold hook! You don’t know that anybody who wants to go to bank will hope to sleep there until tomorrow?”

Ugorji got into the banking hall and raised the alarm: “Here you are! They don’t even have enough chairs!” Alegbe asked him if what he wanted was a seat or service. The cynical customer said “service”. He dropped his cheque and asked the teller for “tally number”. He turned to Alegbe to complain that “this lady doesn’t want to give me my tally number”. Till this day, I still use his line, “Wey my tally numba o”,  anytime I want to make my contemporaries laugh. Tally number was a plastic “ticket” that banks used to give to customers while they waited. First Bank and Union Bank were notorious for keeping customers waiting. Before Ugorji could look up, his cash was ready!

I later saw the clip on social media and began to read the comments. One commenter said: “There was a country!” I did not understand his message, so I moved on. Another said: “The good old days!” I became confused. Were banking services better in 1992 than in 2023? I could not make sense out of the comment. I also recall watching a video clip of Bembe Aladisa’s song, ‘Ewa fun mi ni visa’ (rendered with Egba flavour), which he released in 2003. He was pleading with the embassies to give him a visa so that he could “japa” and escape the sufferings in Nigeria. One of the commenters said “this guy saw the future” — as if suffering is new or Nigerians were not emigrating until now.

One conversation I am never comfortable having is comparing yesterday with today. It is a tough one. For instance, would you say Nigeria is getting better or worse? Many would say “worse” without thinking twice, but available records are not that conclusive when all indices and criteria are used. However, it appears to me that it is human nature to think that the “old days” were always “good”. “The good old days” is, after all, a universal retort — it is nothing unique to Nigeria. To many people, old school music is better than today’s tunes and you dare not argue with them. (I am an old school music aficionado, by the way, but I readily admit that lyrics aside, today’s sound is phenomenal too).

The ETB TV commercial reminds me so much of what has changed for good in Nigeria. Banking, in those days, was a pain in the neck. For one, you could only operate an account at the branch where you opened it. If your branch was in Ojota, you always had to go to Ojota to deposit or withdraw. If you issued a cheque, the payee would have to go to that branch to cash it. If the payee paid into her account, it would take five days for same-city transaction to clear and about 10 days for “up country” (outside the state where the account was domiciled). You needed to go to the bank to check your balance. I just cannot understand the “the good old days” comment on the ETB commercial.

The technological transformation is, sadly, not universal in Nigeria. Government is lagging behind. Recently, Senator David Umahi, minister of works, ordered the gates of the ministry locked against late comers. What followed was nothing short of disgraceful — the late comers confronted him to the applause of some Nigerians who failed to see that truancy and late resumption are among the evils crippling the civil service. The way some people were celebrating the insolence and indolence shows how much damage politics has done to our brains in this country. If you have ever experienced the “not on seat” syndrome in the civil service, you should not clap for the latecomers.

But, again, this is exactly my point: government is still not making full use of technology. There are solutions that can take care of issues like this. A simple electronic register will capture late comers. Civil service rules are very clear on late-coming and sanctions. There would be no need for the minister to order the gates locked. No bank orders any gates locked because of lateness. Governance can only get better when the right technological solutions are adapted to support efficiency. There is enough capacity in government to design these solutions. We can all see how BVN and NIN are helping with identity management, so why should government hesitate to fully embrace technology?

We can argue and disagree on many things, but we must necessarily accept that technology has transformed many aspects of our society — for the better. That fact kept coming to my mind as I read ‘Vantage’. Technology has made many millionaires and billionaires in Nigeria — and to think we are still scratching the surface! I would even estimate that over 90 percent of Nigeria is still analogue, despite the tech boom. And there are many Olumide Soyombos still in limbo across the country. It is not just about making money from tech but also solving problems while making money. Good combination. Nigeria is getting better and can get better on many indices by levering technology.

AND FOUR OTHER THINGS…

CHICAGO CHILLS

I have been bombarded with messages to confirm if I indeed resigned as editor of TheWeek in 2002 because Alhaji Atiku Abubakar, our publisher, stopped us from circulating an edition that was critical of Asiwaju Bola Tinubu. Yes, it is true. However, we did not query Tinubu’s Chicago State University certificate, which was not the issue, but his other credentials — and that was not even the main angle of our cover story. The certificate issue trended in 1999, not 2002. No, our story was not leaked; we officially asked for Tinubu’s response and even did pre-release publicity. I am putting this on record for those who genuinely want to know the facts, not those using my name to play politics. Cheap.

HAMMERING HAMAS

On the 50th anniversary of the Yum Kippur Arab-Israel war of 1973 which led to the first oil boom, the Israel-Palestine conflict has returned to catastrophic levels following the surprise attacks launched on Israel by Hamas, the Palestinian group. Israel took the Gaza Strip by force in 1967 and the Palestinians are also trying to take it back by force. How I wish the Oslo Accord aka Declaration of Principles, midwifed by President Bill Clinton in 1993 and endorsed by both sides, had worked. Yet, a part of me is saying there will never be peace between Israel and Palestine, so why the wishful thinking? Seeing the human suffering and humanitarian disaster shatters my heart. Depressing.

SOCIAL MEDIA BILL

The National Broadcasting Commission (NBC) says it has sent the so-called social media bill to the national assembly. A similar bill generated controversy when it was first introduced years ago because of legitimate fears of censorship, although the promoters said they only wanted to contain irresponsible use of social media. My position has not changed since that bill was mooted: we do not need any new laws. We have enough laws guiding defamation of character, cyber stalking and misuse of electronic communication. And for those who think they are safe, social media is used by all media houses, both mainstream and fringe, so nobody is immune from possible regulatory abuse. Caution.

AND FINALLY…

Am I day-dreaming? Mrs Caroline Adepoju, the acting comptroller-general of the Nigeria Immigration Service (NIS), just said government would soon deploy electronic gates to international airports “to make it seamless for our nationals to come in”. You know what that means, don’t you? Except you are a “person of interest”, no human will check your passport on arrival again. Tell me I’m dreaming. For decades, I have been irritated by the fact that our passports are checked by two officials — one NIS, the other DSS. It is a massive waste of human resources and a totally unnecessary process in a modern world. Only God knows how many times I have complained about this absurdity. Progress.