This is an explosive blow by blow account written in free
flowing style by two adventurous journalists and profilers. It rips
across big business and the inherent risks, intrigues, love and sadness,
death, and escape from the jaws of death, disappointments and finally
the big catch – the telecommunications giant -Globacom that thrusts
Michael Adenuga into the league of global business, as told by Mike
Awoyinfa and Dimgba Igwe. Nduka Nwosu reports
Mike Adenuga’s story remains a writer’s delight any day. Add Africa’s
richest man – by Forbes magazine’s estimates – Aliko Dangote to it, and
your pay day is made in the art of profiling. More importantly, they
are prodigious subjects for reporters in search of redemption. Why?
Because a writer once described journalists as writers who fell by the
wayside. Put in simple language, they are chroniclers in a hurry.
But every once in a while, a journalist emerges as a writer, wins a
double crown and reclaims his or her birth right. This perhaps defines
the present incarnation of Mike Awoyinfa and Dimgba Igwe, both parading
till date five titles including two business best sellers: 50 Nigeria’s
Corporate Strategists: Top CEO’s Share Their Experiences in Managing
Companies in Nigeria and Nigeria’s Marketing Memoirs: 50 Case Studies,
and now Mike Adenuga, Africa’s Business Guru.
The Nigerian scene is replete with such writers. Tony Momoh in the
80s penned his Simple Strokes, a reporter’s notebook based on a holiday
in Britain, Naiwo Osahon’s novel Sex is a Nigger’s Game and Ben Okri,
who worked as a reporter in Uche Chukwumerije’s Afriscope when the hope
of a university education was not forthcoming, are a few examples.
In The Famished Road, Okri’s world like Adenuga’s, sets the pace for
the journey to the unknown, the unauthorised biography Awoyinfa and Igwe
set sail to chronicle. “In the beginning there was a river. The river
became a road and the road branched out to the whole world… a dream can
be the highest point of life”.
This dream in biographical sketches became real right from the day
Awoyinfa and Igwe tendered their resignation in the National Concord
rather than be deployed to the editorial board. Before that, however,
they had brought to the bookstands the best sellers that built their Taj
Mahal, which according to Awoyinfa was supervised by Igwe from joint
resources.
Critics may argue that the twins of two worlds – the multicultural
art of writing and reporting may have opted for the material dollar at
this time, gripped by the buccaneering spirit. No, they were only worthy
evangelists in the fine art of writing – good ambassadors of a genial,
vanishing culture.
The preface sets the stage: “In this gripping book, Mike Adenuga:
Africa’s Business Guru, money, power, politics, high-wire intrigues,
betrayals and bloody escapes from the jaws of death, blend into an
explosive alchemy as award winning journalists, Mike Awoyinfa and Dimgba
Igwe, unmask the mystery of the enigmatic African billionaire, Dr Mike
Adenuga, Jr., the first man in the world to single-handedly float a mass
consumer telecommunications company, Globacom.
“This riveting book is a product of five years of investigative
efforts by two of Africa’s most tenacious writers. The story of Mike
Adenuga is an inspiring and an unorthodox entrepreneurial manual drawn
from the long-concealed secrets of Africa’s most elusive personality and
certainly one of the richest black men in the world”
In the opening chapter, what initially looked like an assassination
attempt, a stunning, blood-chilling rehash of an armed robbery attack
unfolds: “Around him, there was blood, blood, everywhere. Blood oozing
from the ruptured arteries of his fleshy body. Precious blood wasting on
the floor, like a vandalised oil pipe ruptured by some rampaging fuel
thieves. And amidst the splatter and blotches of blood on the floor lay
Mike Adenuga groaning. He had just been shot. Shot point-blank in the
sanctity of his home, his castle… An argument had ensued between them,
with the rebel robber saying adamantly: “Let’s finish the job. We have
to finish this job. We must kill him. We must kill him.”
In one fatal moment of unprovoked madness, he pulled the trigger and bang! Shot point blank. It’s lights out for Adenuga!
Beyond this mild beat, Awoyinfa and Igwe present the image of
addicts of the gutsy adventure story of crime and criminals, where
action rips along in a series of explosions, what another writer
described as a blood and cyclone adventure saga full of action, where
menace mingles with violence and horror with mystery stashed on mystery,
death on brutal death.
On a humorous note, however, they are glad the man survived the
bullets of the black angels of the night to give themselves a self
appointed assignment. They continue: “If he had died at that point in
December 1982, perhaps the story would have ended there. If he had died,
we wouldn’t be embarking on this long, arduous, literary epic, a
journey to unmask this enigmatic, shy, evasive and reclusive business
colossus, who shares some character traits with the Russian tycoon Roman
Abramovich. Abramovich, the Russian Oligarch who had quietly amassed
immense wealth and was living his life unobtrusively, until he bought a
top football team in the English Premiership called Chelsea. Then the
Pandora box of global media glare exposed him to all the troubles it
contains.”
Traumatised by Obasanjo
Like a fellow writer Brian Moore whom the lucid and celebrated Graham
Greene extolled the way he brought his subtle sensibilities into
several varieties of genre fiction, in Awoyinfa and Igwe’s new book,
what they excitedly described as their Opus Magnus, “Stale old forces
embrace fresh new spirits.” Example: “Okay, I would show you that I am
playing God and kuku destroy you once and for all” to which the
frightened and weather beaten Adenuga replies President Obasanjo, with
his knees crawling on the floors of Aso Rock, his palms stretched full
length in the charged, steamy atmosphere: “Sir, I am your son. Please
don’t be angry with me.” Obasanjo: “I shouldn’t be angry? Why shouldn’t I
be angry? See you now. You would come and prostrate and when you leave
here, tomorrow, you would go and be publishing your adverts, abusing me.
No be so (Is that not true)?”
Again in Africa’s Business Guru, bedraggled characters turn what
should have been a sweet farewell into a bitter retreat. Another
example: “Their discussion progressed on a cordial note until IBB
brought up the issue of restoring Adenuga’s licence. Obasanjo pointedly
accused IBB of hiding behind Adenuga to play in the telecoms market
without the courtesy of disclosing his vested interests to him.
Babangida refuted this charge, declaring he was not in partnership with
Adenuga.
“Obasanjo said there was a full security report on the matter, but
Babangida dismissed (the) so called security report as fiction concocted
by his EFCC boys. The discussion soon degenerated into acrimony.
Presidential Villa insiders said that an enraged Obasanjo bullied and
practically chased IBB out. Obasanjo was shouting, ‘Get out, just go!’
to a retreating IBB.”
The book reveals how generous the businessman was to Obasanjo
donating a multi-million library to Obasanjo’s Bell University, yet the
man bluntly refused to grant his licence. At the launch of the Obasanjo
Library, this is the account of story behind the library’s launch:
“Adenuga had gone to Abeokuta with Dr. Yemi Ogunbuyi for the occasion
and the duo had decided to go to greet Baba first. But they were
intercepted by a man in a white Kaftan robe who turned out to be
Obasanjo’s cousin. The cousin politely said Baba wanted to know how much
Adenuga was going to donate. Incidentally, Adenuga had raised this
question with Ogunbiyi on their way coming. ‘How much do you think I
should donate to this thing?’
‘I don’t really know may be N100 million,’ Ogunbiyi suggested.
‘That’s exactly how much I have in mind,’ declared Adenuga.
“Now the question from Obasanjo’s emissary was curious and unusual, he
thought, but nevertheless, he had no choice but to inform the man that
he planned to donate N100 million, thinking the man would be very
impressed. Wrong. Obasanjo’s cousin brought out a piece of paper and
handed it to Adenuga. ‘Sorry sir, but Baba says you can’t donate less
than that amount,’ the man had written.
“Inside the piece of paper was the sum of N250 million scribbled in
Obasanjo’s handwriting with a red pen. ‘No problem,’ Adenuga told the
emissary, wondering if others were subjected to the same experience, but
also knowing he dared not ask anybody, lest he be betrayed. He later
showed Ogunbiyi the piece of paper. ‘I’ll give anything he wants,’ he
told Ogunbiyi. ‘I’m afraid of that man o. N250 million is about the
price of an oil well,’ Adenuga added.”
