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OPINION: Bank shares and bank Tzars [Monday Lines 2]

Published

4 months ago

January 20, 2025

By Lasisi Olagunju

Some 15 years ago, millions of poor Nigerians were conned into borrowing to buy bank shares. I was one of them. I had no one to pull my ears and tell me that I needed to be educated first before seeking to hoe that farm of thorns. Records still say I am a shareholder of some banks, including First Bank. But that is where it ends. It has been sweat without sweet – which is why I amuse myself showing stupid interest in intrigues among big men who run big banks. One current case is about First Bank board where a civil war is ongoing. Some members are demanding an Extraordinary General Meeting of shareholders – and I am supposed to be part of that ‘general meeting’. A friend who understands boardroom politics told me that the demand for that extraordinary meeting waved an extraordinary red flag at whoever it is targeted at.

Imperial Rome experienced Julius Caesar and turned his surname, Caesar, to the title for their emperors. The world copied them. The Germans say Caesar is Kaiser; the Greek say it is Kaisar; to Russians and other Slavic people, Caesar is Tsar. All the variants mean ‘Emperor’ and that is what bank boards and their chairmen are in Nigeria. No bank in 2025 should be anyone’s piggy bank with a Tzar or Tzars pointing and taking. That is what boards exist to prevent, to protect the interest of shareholders. This has, however, repeatedly turned out a textbook joke – a lie. If it were not a joke, I would have written here that a divided board is a threat to shareholders’ interest – and to the company. I will say that the division in the board of First Bank should get stakeholders curious. Why are they fighting? Some board members are crying wolf because there is actually a wolf – a lone wolf rumbling the jungle. But, if I were one of those crying directors, I would first reassess my own palms and wipe off whatever dirt is there so that my cries would enjoy respect. Equity loves cleanliness. You cannot come to equity with unclean hands.

First Bank has a yet-to-be-concluded Rights Issue. All of us, poor shareholders, were invited to participate in that gamble of investment. Hundreds of thousands took the offer and paid. They have not heard the final answer from those who hold the yam and the knife. Now, suddenly, there are talks about a Private Placement, and it is very contentious. My books and my dictionary are my business administration teachers. They tell me that Private Placement means “sale of stocks directly to a private investor rather than as part of a public offering.” So, I join those who are asking: Who is the private investor for the private placement and why that person? I ask because I hold some shares of First Bank and they were bought with money from the brow. Besides, in the context of what we are discussing, how does this Private Placement collocate with the recent Rights Issue by the same company? I am obviously too illiterate to understand the ways of big men.

Metaphors and proverbs give soft landings to bad falls. I love telling the story of this special creature called chameleon. We all know how ‘very big’ the chameleon is. The Yoruba asked the chameleon why it walks so carefully, gingerly; it answers that it walks carefully because it is afraid that the ground may cave in under its weight. If I were the chairman of First Bank, Mr. Femi Otedola, I would walk the boardroom floors of that bank like that creature. As I did that, I would not do what the chairman before me did that fired him. I would strictly use the rules to get all debtors to pay their debts; I would get depositors’ funds kept safe from those who are addicted to paddy paddy schemes and loans – without stepping on rules. I would do all those and would tinker with whatever is in my style that is rippling the waters. I would seek to get everyone back to my back so that at the end of my tenure, I would leave a safer, more firmly replanted, retooled, and recapitalized bank. I would take every step in strict adherence to the rules of corporate governance. I would tell myself that a coach that pulls out every smoky wood in his fire won’t cook a victory.

Every day, everywhere, I meet several people with sentimental attachments to First Bank. Unlike me, they have no shares there but they insist “it is ours.” They say it is a legacy bank; they say it is too much ours, and too strategic to succumb to self-inflicted injuries. I agree with them. This thing is like a Premier League football team. When the club is governed well, the players will play well, the team wins and no one counts the cost of unnecessary injuries. There is wisdom in seeking peace with, and engaging, those opposed to your ways. The chairman is not the board; the rules say he is not. And he must not seek to be what he should not be. If I sat on that chair, I wouldn’t be seen fighting too many wars at the same time.

News

OPINION: Children’s Day And The Scam Of Tomorrow

Published

2 days ago

May 28, 2025

Editor

By Israel Adebiyi

Once upon a time in many Nigerian homes, there was a rhythm to childhood. It echoed in the laughter of children gathered under the moonlight, listening to folktales from wise grandmothers—stories of Tortoise and the hare, morality and mischief, hard work and honesty. It echoed in warm evenings of family dinners, morning treks to school in uniforms neatly ironed, and the comfort of knowing that adults were in charge—parents, teachers, and a government that at least pretended to care. That rhythm has long faded.

Today, the Nigerian child is born into chaos, grows up amid contradictions, and learns too early that promises mean nothing. Each May 27, we gather to recite that children are “the leaders of tomorrow,” but what we fail to admit is that this tomorrow is deliberately being sabotaged. It is not just lost; it is being stolen in broad daylight.

Let’s Begin with Education. Nigeria has the highest number of out-of-school children in the world—an estimated 18.5 million. That number alone should spark a national emergency, yet it is spoken of with such casualness you’d think it were a weather forecast. Millions of children roam the streets hawking sachet water, fruits, or plastic wares when they should be in classrooms. In the North, Almajiri children continue to be abandoned in large numbers under a system that provides neither education nor security. In many Southern states, children are seen as economic props, pushed into trade or house help servitude.

Those who make it to school are not necessarily lucky. Public schools across the country are crumbling. From leaking roofs and broken chairs to the absence of toilets, blackboards, and learning aids, many Nigerian classrooms are not places of learning but sites of struggle. The curriculum remains outdated, irrelevant to modern realities, and poorly delivered. While the world is building coding academies for toddlers, we are still teaching children to cram colonial poetry and 1980s textbook diagrams.

Teachers, the supposed nation-builders, are grossly underpaid and in many cases, underqualified. In some schools, a single teacher manages four to six classes. Training and capacity development are either nonexistent or political rituals. How does a child receive quality education when their teacher is themselves a victim of a broken system?

Worse still, our schools are no longer safe. With rising cases of abductions—from Chibok to Kagara to Dapchi—parents are forced to weigh the risk of education against the price of safety. This is a dilemma that should never exist in a sane society. A government that cannot secure its schools has no business sermonizing about the importance of education.

In the health sector, Nigeria’s infant and child mortality rates remain among the highest globally. According to UNICEF, one in ten Nigerian children dies before their fifth birthday, mostly from preventable causes. Many Nigerian children still die from diarrhoea, malaria, pneumonia, and malnutrition—ailments the world conquered decades ago. Our immunization coverage is poor, especially in rural areas where vaccine hesitancy and infrastructural gaps persist.

Traditional birth attendants continue to thrive in areas where government clinics are either too far, too expensive, or simply unavailable. Expectant mothers still deliver on floors or with torchlight. Where children are born into such conditions, the cycle of vulnerability begins at birth.

Here are the unspoken scars of the Nigerian Child – Abuse and Rights Violations. The Nigerian Child Rights Act (2003) is a comprehensive legal document that affirms the rights of every Nigerian child to survival, development, protection, and participation. Yet, over 20 years later, some states have still not domesticated this law. And in states where it exists, enforcement is patchy at best.

Children suffer physical abuse, sexual exploitation, forced labour, trafficking, and emotional neglect daily. From baby factories to underage marriages to child soldiers in conflict zones, Nigeria has become a theatre of child rights violations. It is one thing to be poor. It is another to be unprotected.

When we say children are “the leaders of tomorrow,” what exactly do we mean? A child growing up amid poverty, violence, abuse, and hunger will not suddenly blossom into a competent leader because we proclaimed it. Leadership is cultivated. And cultivation requires care, systems, and consistent investment. We are not preparing children for tomorrow; we are abandoning them to survive today.

In many homes, the idea of parenting has become largely transactional. Economic hardship has eroded family bonding. Tales by moonlight have been replaced by cartoons on phones. Parents, stressed and underpaid, often have nothing left to give emotionally. We are raising children in isolation—physically present but emotionally disconnected. The result is a generation growing up without empathy, values, or vision.

Parents and communities must take back the moral responsibility of shaping children. Government cannot parent our children for us. But government must provide the basic scaffolding—schools, clinics, protection, and justice.

In the final analysis, May 27 must stop being a day of sugar-coated statements. It must become a mirror—a day of national reflection, policy accountability, and renewed investment in our children’s future.

The Nigerian child is not asking for luxuries. They are asking for classrooms with roofs, teachers who show up, clinics that work, and laws that protect. They are asking for the basic dignity of being raised in a country that sees them not as statistics, but as citizens. Until then, the phrase “leaders of tomorrow” remains a grand deception—a scam coated in celebration.

It is time to give children more than cake and fanfare. It is time to give them a future.

News

CBN Donates Motorized Fire Caddy To Federal Fire Service In Bauchi

Published

2 days ago

May 28, 2025

Editor

The Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) Bauchi State Branch has donated a Motorised Fire Caddy to the Federal Fire Service (FFS) Headquarters, Bauchi State Command.

Speaking during the handing over of the mobile fire suppression system on Tuesday, Mr James Laburta, the CBN Bauchi Branch Controller, said the gesture was part of its corporate social responsibility.

He commended the Federal Fire Service for its dedication toward fighting fire outbreaks in the state and reaffirmed the bank’s commitment to community safety.

According to him, the gesture underscored the importance of partnerships between government agencies and corporate institutions in safeguarding lives and property.

Responding, DCF Babangida Abba, the Acting State Controller of the Federal Fire Service in the state, expressed profound gratitude toward the gesture.

He emphasised the critical role of such support in enhancing the command’s capacity to respond swiftly to fire emergencies, especially in hard-to-reach areas.

Abba noted that the donation came at a crucial time, given the recent surge in fire incidents across the state.

While encouraging the general public to remain vigilant and proactive about fire safety, he assured that the equipment would be effectively deployed for emergency response and training.

Also, speaking at the sideline of the event, ASF Umar Lawal, the Public Relations Officer of the Fire Service, said the equipment is used in areas where traditional fire hydrants or fixed systems are not readily available.

“This unit is typically portable and easy to maneuver, making it suitable for various locations.

“The motorised fire caddy is designed for skilled and unskilled Firefighters to use as a quick-response method for Firefighting in their early stages.

“As it beats response time to emergencies, it’s also used for institutional training reaching out to incident ground scene especially in hard-to-reach areas where our Fire truck can’t have access to the fire ground,” he said.

News

75-year-old Edo Pilgrim Dies During Hajj In S’Arabia

Published

2 days ago

May 27, 2025

Editor

A 75-year-old woman from Edo State, Adizatu Dazumi, died during the 2025 Hajj in Saudi Arabia.

Dazumi was from Jattu Uzairue in Etsako West Local Government Area.

According to The PUNCH, pilgrim died on Monday at King Fahad General Hospital in Makkah after a short illness.

The Chairman of the Edo State Muslim Pilgrims Welfare Board, Musah Uduimoh, confirmed her death on Tuesday.

Uduimoh said Dazumi became ill shortly after performing Tawaaf (walking around the Kaaba) and was taken to the hospital on Sunday. She passed away the next day.

“She was buried in Makkah on the same day, according to Islamic tradition, and her family in Jattu Uzairue has been informed,” Uduimoh said.

He sent his condolences to her family and assured other pilgrims that the board is committed to their health and safety.