It has been 2 weeks since the demise of arguably the greatest ever football player the world has ever seen. In that time, I have also welcomed my son, Ayokunnumi ‘Yaseer Arafah’ Gbade-Bello to the world.

Born a few hours before the football legend passed, here are the 3 times that he displayed dribbling skills, even without a ball. Enjoy!

1.) To begin with, my wife and I were united in our preference to start our family with a girl child. I even had several dreams in that regard and believed it was already predestined. So imagine our ecstasy when at 20 weeks, the scan results came and the consultant told us to expect a girl.

We subsequently gave ‘her’ a name, and began shopping for female baby clothes. At this point, further scans were considered routine so we didn’t bother interrogating the sex any longer. By 34 weeks however we got the rudest shock of our lives when after a slight complication, the doctors recommended another scan to carry out their assessment. It was during this particular scan that we were reliably informed that it was actually a boy and not a girl, implying that we prepared for the wrong sex for all of 3 months and 2 weeks!

2.) I had always envisioned and prepared for how my wife would go into labour and my follow-up reaction(s) thereon, based on movies and other educational materials that I had access to over time.

I had also managed to attend each antenatal sessions with my wife up to this point. How convenient therefore that he chose to arrive on a day of routine antenatal (the very first one that I missed as I got the house ready for his imminent arrival). Even my wife had no clue that she was already in the first stages of labor. It actually took the doctors to ascertain this situation during examination.

3.) We were not expecting him until the 1st week in December based on his EDD but he chose to arrive absolutely on his own terms and to top it off, his arrival not an hour later than 10:55pm on Tuesday, 24th of November ensured that his naming ceremony (usually 7 days after birth) conveniently fell on our 2nd Wedding Anniversary (Tuesday, 1st of December, 2020). How sweet!

To say that we have been stretched since he came to and through us, is to understate the obvious. I actually can’t recall when last I have been so physically and mentally drained, all from supporting my wife to care for him but guess what, every time I watch over him while he sleeps proves his worth in our lives and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Through it all, it is a pleasure to have you son. I am unable to hide my delight or quantify my feelings in finally getting to meet you. I love you immensely AJ (Ayo Junior)❤️

I originally started writing this piece from the Divisional HQ of the Nigeria Police ‘A’ Division, somewhere around Unity Road in Ilorin at midnight 2:34am on Saturday, February 22 2020.

Barely able to find any sleep on the wooden bench I was forced to spend the night on, I could finally write about the emotional trauma and ordeal that my family and I had to face from negligence, incompetence, or both from the Nigeria Police Force (NPF) and Access Bank Plc.

Understanding that this is not some clout chase, I’ll try as much as possible to break down the sequence of events as they unfolded based on vivid facts, while trying my best to separate from emotions. Caveat: this is a really long read.

Day 1: Den of thieves

For my father, the ordeal began much earlier but for me, it all kicked off from 1:55pm on Wednesday, February 19 2020 when I received the following sms from him:

A few moments leading to this, I had arrived at my office in Surulere, Lagos at 1:12pm in very high spirits after successfully closing a sale with a client. I was about to settle into work when I got his sms.

Confused, my first action was to try to determine the veracity of the sms and its sender. To know my father is to know a man of integrity, boisterousness and candour.

So I dialed his number, and indeed, it was he on the other end of the line. I told him I was confused by his sms and needed some clarity. Please note that my father is learned, a 69-year old UK-trained technician and retiree of UAC of Nigeria. But even his best explanations did not help me understand any facts of the matter.

He managed to establish that he lost his ATM card in 2019 (more on this later), and immediately requested for and got a replacement from the bank, meaning old card has been blocked, right? My confusion therefore stemmed from the last part of his message. How do you use a blocked card to commit fraud?

As I sat back at my desk trying to rationalize, my brain was spinning in a multitude of directions, so I called him back.

Again he kept making a hash of the explanation and I recall snapping at him when he attempted to pass this off as some common occurrence that could happen to anyone, except that he was just unfortunate to have been caught in the web. What web? My father? A criminal? Never! I retorted that the fact that people go through this does not mean it should happen to him and I warned him not to repeat that statement again.

I asked if there was anyone highly placed I could speak with and he told me that the IPO on the case was coming from Ilorin but that no one was obliging him with any information. He continued that his ordeal started since 9am when he went to the Bank’s branch at Sango Ota (where he resides) to make a N2,000 withdrawal, only to discover that his account had been blocked and that he went into the banking hall to make a complaint with the bank officials, leading to his eventual arrest.

At this point, he managed to pass the phone to the female officer at the counter who still couldn’t provide any useful information. She only mumbled some prayer in Yoruba, something about not falling victim to a crime one knows nothing about. She passed the phone back to my dad and He let’s out that his phone was about to be taken away from him, restricting his access to make calls. His last instruction was “Get me a lawyer!”, so I ended the call.

Having run a business for as long as I have in this very treacherous clime, I retain the services of 3 distinctly capable and brilliant lawyers. Lawyer A, “The Academic Lawyer”, assists with interpretations and paper work. She doesn’t go to court. Lawyer B is strictly for stuff relating to business, let’s call him “The Corporate Lawyer”, while Lawyer C has excess energy to burn. He’s “The Litigation lawyer”. I put a call through to him immediately.

He tried to get some details from me, so I offered to do a 3-way call with dad so he could explain better, since even I was still in the dark. Dad’s phone rang 3 times consecutively without response. Fearing the worst, I informed Lawyer C of my intention to make the dreaded trip to Sango Ota to ascertain things for myself, so I could debrief him later.

Thankfully my younger brother was within range so I summoned him, showed him our dad’s sms and informed him that he’ll have to accompany me to the station. My wife came in just about same time so I briefed her as well and intimated her of my plans. By default, she had to hold the fort in my absence.

It was about 2:30pm at this point. My brother and I set out, leaving everything we were doing behind. Considering past experience on that axis, we had to rely on public transport and bikes (only within Ogun State jurisdiction). SanwoOlu’s ban was in full swing during this period.

We arrived at Sango Ota at a few minutes past 5pm and went straight to the station. I recognized my dad’s voice from behind the counter as he called out my name. He shook my hand but I was still partly frustrated, and partly blamed him for a situation I still didn’t understand.

Again I asked him to tell me what happened. Again he lost me. Then he goes on about the few contacts he had tried to make, especially to one former DIG acquaintance and I felt rest assured that at least someone with some authority was going to come to our aid.

At this point, I had established that he didn’t lose the card under some fortuitous circumstance. Someone that was also at the vicinity of the ATM at the same time actually swapped his card and unbeknownst to him, left him with another card that wasn’t his. Still sketchy.

As I sat there across the counter, DIG calls him and I try to listen in on their conversation. My dad suddenly shared a piece of information that I didn’t have previously — the fraudster didn’t only make away with his own card but proceeded to make a withdrawal of N20,000 from my dad’s account at another bank’s machine close by. Then I heard him say to the person across the line that he didn’t report at the police station but got a replacement card. He gave the phone to me to speak to the man, whose instruction was “Just get a lawyer”. This was getting really intriguing.

After this call, I again challenged my dad that he was somehow leaving pieces of information out and he was not helping me at all. I asked how he managed to lose a whole of 20k last year to a fraudster and none of us his children knew about it. Now it’s a different case if he had a steady stream of income. A huge fraction of his expenses are borne mostly by us.

At this point, I gave up on getting any clear explanation from him and my focus was now to wield some influence to at least get him out of the station on bail but like onions that was being unwrapped layer by layer, he manages to reveal even more information, apparently there were some accompanying papers on the case that the bank officers came with, which were now in possession of the police officers at the station.

I requested to see these papers. Every officer behind the counter denied the existence of any document and started to get hostile, one of them even threatened to slap my younger brother as he spoke on the phone with someone I presume was a relative. I tried to intervene to douse the tension and let these guys know that we were only seeking peace and trying to understand why our father was being detained behind the counter but it was clear they were prejudiced. I also recalled that one of the officers made as though he was going to share the contact details of the IPO in charge from Ilorin when we arrived but suddenly backtracked.

So back to Plan A. I didn’t want to reach out to too many people, lest it became a circus and I was also wary of the people I shared the details with. It was embarrassing enough already. So I drew up a plan that basically involved 3 of my least likely sources.

While this was ongoing, I was directed to meet the “Officer-in-charge”. I went into his office, introduced myself and after some explanation, he informs me that the case was not theirs to treat and there was “nothing they could do until the officers from Ilorin come” and according to him, he spoke to them not quite long (before I got there) and they promised to be at the station the following day (Thursday).

A few moments later, I sighted him sitting just outside the station and I figured this was my cue to go more subtle. I approached him and asked if I could apply for his bail but he declined, once again stating that it wasn’t their case. He also brushed off my suggestion that there were indeed any charge sheets.

At this point, my dad gave me the phone number of the bank’s branch manager saying that he was with him in the morning and they had a quite pleasant chat as the situation unfolded and he believes he might be able to assist. I called this person, introduced myself and explained that my dad was diabetic and 2 months away from his 70th birthday, and that we had been managing him the best we could. I demanded to know why he was being detained without any clear charge.

The man showed some remorse and said he was surprised as he thought the matter would have been resolved by that time based on the information he had about the case. He confirmed that he indeed spent some time with my dad in the morning and that he didn’t believe my dad committed the crime (he managed to reveal that the sum of 140k was taken from someone else’s account in Ilorin). But again what I was left to understand was that my dad’s old card was somehow involved (cue more confusion). This was around past 7pm anyway. He told me he had left the office and that there was nothing he could do by that time. He said he usually resumes around 7am so I put that on my to-do list for the next morning.

I reverted to plan A and my 3 unlikely sources came through in surprisingly big ways. The first was a woman and one of my father’s influential acquaintances. I called her to explain the situation as best as I understood and pleaded with her to intervene. She asks what station we were at and I told her. Unfortunately not only was she far away in Abuja, she told me that she was more familiar with the Lagos command and considering this was Ogun, there was little she could do but she asked me to get the number of a high ranking officer at the station, and left me with a promise to see what she could do.

The second person promised to also get involved and by the time he came through, I was speaking with the Commissioner of the Ogun State Police Command (CP). You don’t get a higher ranking police officer within a jurisdiction than that. I was so excited when I spoke to him, the instruction was to go to the station DCO, (he even called out his name) so he could speak with him.

Turned out that the said DCO was the same officer in charge I had been hounding all along. I heaved a sigh as I realized I was actually going back to his office but I figured it was worth the try. I greeted him for the umpteenth time, he looks up as I told him that the CP wants to speak with him. He then bellows “I thought I already told you this isn’t our case, why are you embarrassing me?”. I apologize to him and he allows me to make the call. I handed the phone over to him. He exchanged pleasantries with the CP and proceeded to inform him that he had already explained to me that it’s not their case blah blah. He hands the phone back and CP relays the exact same information back to me. No dice, case closed!

In the end, all 3 “unlikely sources” failed to get my dad off despite their best efforts, the first 2 actually. The woman spoke with my dad for over 20 mins and tried to compel the DPO to release him based on recognition of who she was (the wife of a highly placed official of the present administration). I was told that he actually contemplated it and even asked if my father had property but eventually decide against it. A wild goose chase.

At this point, I decided against involving the 3rd person’s contact, who turned out to be an influential member of one of the royal families of Sango Ota. This was a few minutes to 9pm. I later spoke to him and he acknowledged his willingness to come stand in as a surety for my dad, but the “complications” of the case however made it forfeit.

Having exhausted all options, I instructed my younger brother to go back home to Lagos, get my wife to pack a bag and bring back to me the following day, while I found a hotel nearby to retire to in anticipation of an early start the next day.

Day 2: To catch a thief

I arrived at the station at a little past 8am on Thursday, February 20 2020, but changed my mind just as I walked in. I figured it was best to make the bank my first port of call since the police won’t provide me with any more information.

I went to the bank’s closest branch I could find and was told that there was nobody bearing the name of the officer and was directed to another branch.

I called him and he confirmed he was indeed at the other branch, so I found my way there and I went into the banking hall, where I was directed to the officer.

He offered me a seat and we spend the next 45 mins getting familiar. He told me how my dad narrated his medical condition and how his kids provide support for him. He also managed to shed some light on what actually transpired. And so for the first time, I understood the case:

• On the 20th of November 2019, my dad stopped to use an ATM at Idiroko (also in Ogun State). On getting there, he met a queue and waited his turn.
• After trying to make withdrawal twice, a young man came from behind, grumbled that the machine wasn’t working, and somehow offered to assist my dad (you know how they seem to know which machine works and which doesn’t). The fraudster eventually returned my dad’s card, declaring that the machine wasn’t working but unbeknownst to my dad, his card had been swapped for another one.
• Upon realization, he marched into the banking hall to lodge a complaint, requesting for a replacement and an automatic blocking of the card.
• While this process was in place, He received an alert that the sum of N20,000 had been deducted from his account, leaving him with a balance of N11,159.81.
• He raised an alarm and the withdrawal was traced to another Bank’s ATM within close proximity. A new card was issued and the previous card was blocked, while they collected the strange card that was swapped with his, claiming he didn’t need it any longer.
• He then went to make a complaint at the Bank from whose ATM his money was withdrawn from, thinking this would help in retrieving his 20k. The only promise he got was that the footage of the fraudster would be shared with his own Bank, as they don’t share such information with customers. With this assurance, he simply accepted his loss in good faith but nursing the hope of an eventual reversal.
• Fast forward to the 19th of February 2020 (Day 1 of my journal), he went to his bank’s branch close to Sango Ota around 9am to make the withdrawal.
• After trying without success, he received an sms notification that his account “was not eligible”, asking him to contact the rep, so he went into the banking hall to lodge a complaint.
• The situation was escalated to the Branch Manager, who informed his legal unit and my dad was subsequently handed over to the bank’s CSO (Chief Security Officer) who took him in an official vehicle to the Nigeria Police Force Divisional Headquarters, Sango Ota, Ogun State.
• So what was the issue? Someone else was defrauded of the sum of 140k somewhere in Ilorin via the same tactic and possibly by the same person. The challenge was that the fraudster this time dropped my dad’s old card with the unsuspecting victim.
• The victim then goes to the police to file a complaint, leading to the transmission of a signal to block the holder’s account and apprehend anyone that comes to make withdrawals from the account.
• The CSO arrived at Sango Ota Police station with my dad at 1:30pm hence the message I received from him at 1:55pm, to await the IPO (Police Inspector) from Ilorin based on the signal that had been transmitted from the Divisional Headquarters, Division A, Ilorin through a police report addressed to the Bank’s Branch Manager, Taiwo Road, Ilorin and a Bankers’ order filled at the Magistrate Court.

As far as the bank officials and police were concerned, they were simply “doing their job” (a local parlance for incompetence), but to what end?

Before I left the bank, I managed to obtain copies of the charge sheet and immediately forwarded to my lawyer.

After waiting outside the station for what seemed like an eternity throughout the day, Dad sent me an sms that the DCO told him that the Ilorin people were now to be expected the following day (Friday) claiming that “they just perfected their papers”, meaning another 24 hours spent detained without charge.

At this point, I briefed my lawyers to counter-sue everyone involved on the case for negligence because I didn’t understand why this type of treatment was being mete out to a poor old man.

Day 3: Police is your friend

On Friday, February 21 2020, my younger brother and I set out early on two different missions from the hotel. He went to the General Hospital in Agege were our dad was a patient to get his medical report while I accompanied my lawyer’s rep to the High Court in Ota to file the case against the respondents.

The officers from Ilorin eventually arrived around 2pm and I met up with them at the station. My dad got emotional when I informed him that I was coming with them, saying he was worried about my business (my office had remained shut still). So I explained that I was more worried for his safety, letting him know that I couldn’t leave him alone in the prevailing circumstance.

We set out from Sango Ota at 2:30pm via public transport (the police officers covered my dad’s fares while I paid for mine) and eventually arrived Ilorin at 11:36pm, just before midnight.

Day 4: Bail is free

We arrived at the station on Saturday, February 22 2020 by 12:10am midnight and his statement was taken immediately.

The officers refused to allow me take him to a hotel and once again, he was put behind the counter, while I sought refuge on a bench in the adjoining open office. I couldn’t sleep, and I’m sure he didn’t either.

We were told that the complainant would be coming later in the morning and then we’ll know the way forward.

I got up by 6:00 am, said my prayers and went out to get morning supplies for dad and I.

Dad had made arrangement with one of his family members based in Ilorin, who sent a lawyer from his office. The lawyer dutifully arrives at 8:30am. He was briefed on the case and we negotiated his fees, after which he asked me to accompany him to his chambers so he could commence the process of filing for dad’s bail via a letter with myself as a surety.

By this time, I was adequately exhausted but I managed to find my way back to the station after getting something to eat.

All officers on the case started arriving one after the other, including the DPO. Then the wait was on for the complainant to show up.

The complainant arrived at 12:02pm and the facts of case were reviewed with him. He immediately took umbrage once he realised that we had gotten a lawyer for dad, declaring that he wanted to get his own lawyer as well, and claiming that he was ready to spend all he had to pursue the matter further.

The police officers became antagonistic of dad’s lawyer, claiming they didn’t like how he spoke to the complainant and that we all should “go out to resolve the issue”.

What hurt me most was when the complainant acknowledged it wasn’t dad that he saw at the ATM and he doesn’t even expect dad to be going to use the machine at his age but that it could be any of us, his kids, that defrauded him. With the knowledge that we’re responsible for his monthly upkeep and that none of us 4 children live with him in Ogun State, I glared at him, too tired to talk.

When this approach didn’t yield any compromise, we were asked to wait for the DPO who had gone out to attend to some pressing matters.

The DCO in charge summoned everyone into her office around 1:04pm to reestablish the facts of the case.

After asking both parties to state their case, she asked for dad’s statement of account to confirm his claim of the 20k deduction and subsequent charge for ATM card reissue, both of which were thankfully captured.

Apparently the complainant was defrauded on the 17th of January, meaning it took a whole of 4 weeks to bring the “suspect” forward. Yet it was a previous victim that was apprehended. This is proof that the culprit outsmarted the whole Nigeria Police Force. Embarrassing to say the least.

She asked to know where dad lived in Ilorin, and dad informs her that he only spent some of childhood there but doesn’t reside there. She then complicates the case further by first trying to pin the crime on dad, suggesting that dad probably didn’t block his old card for it to have been used for fraud — a clear indication that the DCO in charge did not even understand the facts of the case. Anyway, she marched all of us to the DPO who had now returned to his office. The time was 1:48pm.

Turns out the DPO was the only sensible person at the station. He informed us that he had received a call from the Commissioner of Police in Ilorin as early as 6am that morning on the matter, ostensibly influenced by my 1st “unlikely source” (remember her?). He then dissected the case and even suggested strategies to his team to not only apprehend this particular culprit but other potential ATM fraudsters, while declaring that dad could not be kept further at their station, and should be granted access to bail.

The only bone I have to pick with him was that he signed the order to arrest “the suspect” without ensuring that his officers had conducted ALL necessary investigations, the first of which should have been a request to the bank in Ilorin where the crime was perpetrated to provide them footage of the culprit.

Also, even if I accept that dad should be treated as a suspect considering his ATM card was retrieved from the crime scene, the other issue was how long it took to come forward to establish the charges against him.

When he eventually arrived as a suspect, the next step should be facial recognition, asking the complainant to identify him and to be double sure, compare him with the footage of the person at ATM (if available). None of this was done. Instead, they flagged dad and treated him not only as a suspect but as a criminal (I had to intervene twice at both stations to prevent them from locking him up in the cell). The fact he didn’t report the crime that was committed against him was used several times to berate him.

At 2:39pm, the police refused the lawyer’s request to have me stand as surety, insisting that the person must be resident in Ilorin. So I put a call through to my “unlikely source” and she promised to do something once again.

The complainant reluctantly withdrew the case at 3:37pm, after the officers explained the implications of proceeding to him. I should add that, my dad, typically the pacifier, had engaged him privately in between seeing the DPO, and after his “initial gra gra”, he soft pedaled and asked “What can we do for him”. I was shocked at his effrontery. I told him there was ABSOLUTELY NOTHING I could do, explaining that we had spent more than he claimed to have lost on the matter and besides, giving him anything could be taken for culpability in the crime in the first place.

We were suddenly summoned again by the DCO and the next act was a focus on me to clarify why I told the complainant that I had spent more than he had lost, so I gave them an idea of the expenses I had been making since Wednesday from Sango Ota up till that point and the lawyer corroborated sort of, by including that even he wasn’t working for free.

It was at this point that I understood the reason for this particular summon. The police were complicit because they acknowledged that it was the complainant that facilitated their trip to and fro to pick up the suspect (possibly explains the reason my dad was delayed at Sango Ota). They were simply trying to justify to the complainant that his “mobilization fee” was judiciously utilized and said expenses from me didn’t cover them.

Two men of influence walked into the station at 3:42pm to stand for my dad, on the instructions of our “unlikely source”. I knew she had influence and I was glad we had her on our side.

After completing the necessary paper work, the men stayed outside with dad, saying that they would not leave until we step out of the station. Few minutes later, the IPO summons me to demand 20k as charge for dad’s bail!

At all police stations across the country, you’ll see a giant sign that indicates that “BAIL IS FREE”. At any rate, I wasn’t ready to accommodate any further expense especially towards an incompetent and crooked organization such as the NPF.

My dad and I were ready to play the waiting game until the surety intervened to ask how much I could part with. Told him 5k since I realised I had 7k left in my wallet. He went in to have a word with her and subsequently came outside with her, collected the money from me and handed it over to her.

Dad was then asked to go clear himself at the counter. Next, I was summoned by the counter officer. She asked me to pay 2k. I just wanted to leave at this point, so I pleaded with her to accept 1k as what I had left was barely adequate for our trip back to Lagos. She accepted and we finally walked out of the station at 4:02pm, heading straight to the bus park. The DPO called my dad to check up on him before the bus left the park and to verify that we didn’t pay any monies to the complainant. He fell short of apologizing to him for the inconvenience. We didn’t arrive at my place in Lagos until 1:20am on Sunday 23rd of February, thus completing 88 harrowing hours of trauma, despair and redemption!

This whole episode left me with more questions than answers:

1.) To begin with, why did it take so long for the officers from Ilorin to show up to commence the case?

2.) Why couldn’t the officers at Sango Ota take up the matter on their behalf? I was told that by the interpretation of the law, the maximum a suspect should spend upon arrest is 24 hours. Anything beyond that and you must press charges but there was my dad, 72 hours behind the counter and still kept in the dark as to what his offense is. A huge denial of his fundamental human rights.

3.) Why was it so difficult to secure bail for an ailing 70-year old senior citizen of the Federal Republic of Nigeria? Even despite the intervention of at least 2 people of influence?

4.) Why was the complainant not stated on the case document? What’s the point of protecting a person that doesn’t mind inconveniencing a 70-year old man to that extent?

5.) How many times do we now have to go to the Nigeria Police to report when we know that the Police’s claim to be a friend is nothing but an empty promise. You might end up being coerced to part with some cash.

So many questions for the Nigerian Police but the bank’s negligence was the most surprising due to their lack of professionalism. It was also clear that they don’t have a clear cut process of how to handle these type of situations, beyond the typical escalation to police.

1.) What did they do with the swapped card they collected from my dad? On hindsight, maybe notifying the police at the point could have implicated the owner of said card, who is possibly another victim.

2.) Despite the alarm raised within their banking premises by my father in November, why didn’t the bank suggest to him to file a report, since we now know that simply being issued a new card does not protect you from stolen identity?

3.) Finally, with all the success being recorded with reforms across the banking industry, isn’t it surprising that the first crime perpetrated on my dad’s account was probably not incidented and the promise to share fraudster’s footage with his own bank didn’t happen? If it did, what steps have my dad’s bank taken since then to apprehend the culprit? So because my dad didn’t file a report, his own 20k doesn’t count? Shouldn’t this be where the Police should have been notified in the first place?

If it was so easy to place a signal on my dad’s account to have him picked up as a suspect for fraud, then surely it should be just as easy to indicate all the steps taken since the owner of the account complained about theft on his account. Perhaps this would have helped the police apprehend the thief on the prowl and not treat the victim shabbily in the manner that they had since Day 1.

On this evidence, I can confirm that the Nigeria Police Force is simply not ready. They’re ill-equipped, lack basic training and comprehension, are terribly starved of the required resources to function efficiently.

In my opinion, a situation where the complainant that filed a case has to pay not just to file but to also mobilize the officers to bring in a suspect is flawed. This act already provides a clear basis of bias towards the complainant.

To conclude, my dad was detained against his fundamental rights on an issue that he knew absolutely nothing about, without access to the comfort and freedom he’s used to. He was naturally upbeat but I witnessed him break down twice, suggesting he was traumatized and in his condition, with limited access to his drugs, his life was under threat and his situation could have gotten worse. Not understating the strain this caused for our family. My younger brother and I are entrepreneurs and employers of labor in our own rights but for 4 days, both our businesses had to be shut because we had to be with him physically throughout this ordeal while the rest of our family members were kept on the edge.

After all is said and done, lessons learnt. I encourage everyone to remain vigilant while using the ATM. Also, considering the erring nature of the NPF, I recommend filing a report EVERY TIME you have to. In fact that’s why we must, because their flawed and unintelligent process prevents them from doing their jobs efficiently and thoroughly most times, instead they’ll be on the look out for easy targets or the fastest way out.

I remain positive and would do everything legally and humanly possible to seek redress for my dad. Hopefully the outcome would help everyone involved to adjust to modern realities of running such people-wide enterprise, while addressing the glaring flaws in their processes and taking advantage of design in overall workflow management to achieve meritorious efficiency.

Update: Despite receiving the court summons the Nigeria Police Force failed to attend the first hearing in March, and instead decided to employ underhanded tactics including blackmail and bullying to get themselves off the hook. The case was subsequently adjourned till April, except that the Coronavirus lockdown halted the proceedings. As we patiently waited for the reopening of the courts after the lockdown, the NPF started a campaign to harass my dad’s surety, threatening him to compel my dad to withdraw the case against them. The man, obviously under duress, reached out to our “unlikely source” (being the facilitator) and she in turn, compels us to withdraw the case. In her words: “no one starts a battle with the Government and expects to win.” The situation already caused a strain on her long existing relationship with my dad and it was the first time I regretted involving her. The case was subsequently withdrawn in July after a lot of pressure. It is the reason I’m finally able to publish my experience.

The implication is that the NPF would probably move on to its next victim. This is how they miss or deliberately leave out little details and end up prosecuting innocent people, especially if he or she were to be underprivileged or alienated from their fundamental rights.

Kindly circulate to your friends and family members especially the vulnerable ones (young and aged). Police is definitely not your friend!

Thank you.

The 2019 FIFA Best Player Award took place a few days ago in Milan, but typical with most award ceremonies, this wasn’t without its controversies — from Lionel Messi winning the award for “The Best FIFA Men’s Player” to Real Madrid having 4 players in the World FIFPro 11 (Best 11 players). The less said about the latter, the better.

As for the individual award, here’s the statement from the official website , “In a glittering and superlative career to date, there are few personal accolades and records that Lionel Messi has not won. One that had eluded him was the title of The Best FIFA Men’s Player — until this year…”

The latter part of this statement suggests FIFA felt compelled to issue this award to Messi because it’s the only individual accolade that has “eluded him in a glittering career.”

For context, since its inception in 2016, Ronaldo (while at Real Madrid) won the first 2 (2016 and 2017), while Luka Modric (also at Madrid) fittingly won the 3rd one in 2018 after winning the Champions League and coming second at the World Cup.

FIFA’s rationale therefore is for balancing the age-long rivalry between Ronaldo and Messi. After all, there are signs to suggest both careers (now in their 30s) are closer to winding down than beginning.

To clarify, Lionel Messi did have a really good year, but I would argue not quite as stellar as some from his previous years, nor was it better in any way to say, Allisson or Virgil Van Dijk based on statistics or achievements from last season.

Personally, I can’t wait for Ronaldo and Messi to retire from football so everyone of us (including FIFA) can go back to having some sense and using it!

The world has a lot more players than these two, but we are all just as guilty of fawning over them so much we ignore every other person’s impressive achievements, especially on a season by season basis.

I can also argue that Lionel Messi didn’t get more individual or team honors than VVD or Allisson, so why him and not them? The obvious answer is that it’s because they (Messi/Ronaldo) are Forwards/Attackers. We love to see Goals scored, created or Dribbles made. We really can’t be bothered about Saves, Goals defended, Tackles made and all that “dirty” work.

This is why at the end of each season, UEFA issues one of its most unbalanced awards called “European Golden Shoe”. To qualify for this award, you must be the top scorer in your league. After that, the numbers of goals scored would be multiplied by a coefficient depending on the “strength of your league”.

Goals scored in the top five leagues according to the UEFA coefficients list are multiplied by a factor of two, goals scored in the leagues ranked six to 21 are multiplied by a factor of 1.5, and goals scored in leagues ranked 22 and below are multiplied by a factor of 1.

The implication of this is that you’re likely to win the award with fewer goals as top scorer in the top five leagues of Spain, England, Germany, Italy or France, than someone that is top scorer in Scotland with even more goals!

Needless to say that Lionel Messi won that award this year as one of his individual honors.

This isn’t my beef, however. I’m more interested in understanding why there are no equivalent of the same “Golden Shoe” award for Goalkeepers, Midfielders and Defenders because the earlier we realized that football is a team game, the better.

As for The Best award, I’ll like to propose that FIFA gets on with issuing to either Messi or Ronaldo for what’s left of their careers until they retire, following which, the selection format should be changed. I do not understand how they don’t have the Overall Best Player contested by the respective winners of each department.

For instance, there’s no need having Messi and Ronaldo compete for The Overall Best Award when one of them clearly was the better forward, who should then compete with the Best Goalkeeper, Midfielder and Defender. That way, there’ll be no arguments based on who rightfully deserves the award and more than anything else, would start to help us see the impact of everyone else on the field.

So what made Messi win? Some would argue it’s because of the records or consistency aggregated over a 20-year playing career. But the question is, was this a career award or a seasonal one?

Disclaimer: Not to be mistaken for “Business Model” (I’ll share a post on this at a later date). Also not the same as a mentor, because you do not need to have met or be acquainted. Meaning, you need not be bothered about what’s going on with the person’s private life or what they had for dinner. Just keep a focus on and study their achievements in business and all would be well in paradise.

I’ve had quite a few influences myself growing up- MKO Abiola, Dehinde Fernandez, Biodun Shobanjo, my Uncle Felix and in the later years, there were Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg, but the biggest single influence I’ve had to date is a certain Blake Mycoskie. Won’t be surprised if this is your first time hearing of the name. What you’re probably familiar with is his product, “TOMS” derived from the phrase “Tomorrow’s Shoes” (I’m sure you didn’t know that either).

I got to know about TOMS around 2010, 4 years after it was founded in 2006. The marketing genius behind the “One for One” concept was so fascinating to me, so I started researching even more about the brand and by extension, its American founder. I bought the book START SOMETHING THAT MATTERS and read about how Blake sold his Driver Ed company upon returning from a vacation in Argentina, where having visited a remote location and seeing children going to school without shoes, he got inspired to do something about the millions of kids affected all over the world. He returned to America to design the prototype of the first TOMS shoe inspired by the classic Alpargata style worn in Argentina. Not done, he attached a promise to each shoe — “One for one”, which essentially implies that an indigent child somewhere in the world, gets a pair of shoes for every shoe sold. Take from the rich and give to the poor, sounds familiar? (Lesson — Every problem presents a potential opportunity, work towards finding a business angle).

I was all the more impressed with Blake. I became a fan and got totally immersed in the brand so much that I started placing orders for the shoes directly. I would find a way to get dollars across to a friend of mine in the U.S. who would ship back to me. Those were the days before PayPal so imagine the stress getting money across. The brand also made me socially conscious as I recall taking part in one of it’s social activations tagged “One Day Without Shoes”. (Lesson — Build a compelling Brand Story that would transform regular customers to fans- The trick is to make it simple and believable). Apple is another good reference here.

From here, I started marketing the shoes to everyone else, from colleagues at work to complete strangers. The profit was marginal but I didn’t mind. I had acquired quite the collection at this point, so I didn’t mind gifting out a few occasionally, and even got one for my then girlfriend. This action led to a number of return sales. (Lesson -Adopt occasional complimentary techniques such as gifts, discounts, promos etc to generate a sale). This was my own way of contributing to the cause.

My final action as a fan of the brand was to begin to make moves to secure a franchise deal to sell TOMS shoes in Nigeria and Africa. I eventually gave up this ambition, but not for a lack of reason — I got distracted in a good way, starting my own ventures. I must admit it was a real wild ride for those 18–24 months. Today, the TOMS brand has grown immensely in worth and value, it has leveraged the One for One idea into a business model, branching out into other areas such as eyewear, coffee (would you believe that?), apparels and handbags. (Lesson — Look to diversify once you start experiencing a lift).

Be like Blake, build for tomorrow.

About ME: I am an Emerging Tech, Media and Social Entrepreneur that has overseen the development of several high-growth companies and projects. I possess a strong track record of growing ideas to business, developing impactful market strategies and business models, increasing market share and profitability, spotting talent and building highly productive teams.

I’ve been listening to Cat Steven’s Tea from the Tillerman album recorded and released in 1970 and this particular line from the Father and Son track struck me:

“You may be here tomorrow, but your dreams may not”.

This got me thinking.

Often times, when we discuss matters of time and currency, we think only of physicality, but since we’ve come to understand time to be an abstract concept with impact (positive or otherwise) that is mostly felt in the subconscious, then perhaps the takeout should be the reverse.

For the purpose of demonstration, let’s imagine the lyric said “You may (NOT) be here tomorrow, but your dreams (WOULD)”. A lot of people would relate to this. It’s the classic message of leaving a legacy. Powerful, yet probably inaccurate. There’re no guarantees that you’ll outlive your dreams. Too many empires have perished after the demise of the dreamer, yet this is not a history lesson.

So we go back to the original lyric. The message feels different. The closest analogy I can give is losing your train of thought for just a second. You experience that all too familiar feeling of having an idea, a thought, moments before but now it’s suddenly gone, lost in an often complex nexus of grey matter, sometimes never to be found again. You feel incomplete, disoriented, naked!

I guess what I’m trying to say is that you should worry less about what happens to your dreams when you’re not there and instead worry more about what happens to your dreams when your mind is no longer there.

I advise that you START BY MAKING A NOTE — some would recommend a mental one, but I know how tricky that can get due to our forgetful nature so I prefer the physical type. That stuff you really want to do, write it down now — your state of mind might not remain the same the next minute, the next day or several years later but that record could just be the difference between a great idea and a lost one.

And here’s the catch, all these could happen without you being there and you still get the credit/the reward. Or both.

Just do it.

Ayoola Gbade-Bello is an emerging Tech, Media and Social Entrepreneur that has overseen the development of several high-growth companies and projects. He possesses a strong track record of growing ideas to business, developing impactful market strategies, increasing market share and profitability, directing budget planning initiatives and building highly productive teams.

Present day: I celebrated my 35th birthday a few days ago.

Another 365 days, another birthday and time for deep introspection.

I vividly recall my mum’s 35th birthday celebration like it was yesterday, all the way down to the orange t-shirt I wore.

The pictures help me remember most of the faces at the party.

I especially remember a particular incident that happened few days after the celebration. Chief Manny Igbenoba, my dad’s socialite friend and bestie from their time in England, sponsored a paid advertorial in one of the dailies using one of the post-birthday photos. In the picture, my dad held my mum’s hands as they cut the cake that was baked and decorated by her.

I recall the idyllic smiles on their faces. I’m sure everyone that lived in the nineties with an iota of lower middle-class privilege can relate. My siblings and I fawned over the newspaper post for days after the celebration, I think someone even made a clipping of it and I’m equally certain we earned some bragging rights in school on subsequent days. I was just 5 going 6 years old and it felt like I could be a kid forever.

Thinking back to those times and it feels surreal that I would be here celebrating the same milestone as my mum in my lifetime. She it was who reminded me. She called to wish me a happy birthday and in her words “It’s worth celebrating, do you recall my 35th birthday?” And then, the memories started to flood in.

My dear mum is now 64 years old and I celebrate her everyday because I love her!

I agree it calls for celebration, rightly so but how about some reflection? Having recently started a family of my own, I realise how important this is.

Time remains the single most important variable to qualify our lives by. Minutes become hours, hours roll into days, and the years pile on so in reflecting, we need to constantly evaluate what we’re doing with this fascinating concept.

As for me, I’m learning everyday the upsides of building a good name (brand). What are you doing with your time? I’ll love to know.

Someone I used to know made fun of me in the past for “reading football”. Strange but true. Would you blame me? These days, 90 minutes feels like such a long time to watch 22 grown men kick a round leather ball across a pitch. Even more frustrating is the outrageous amount of money we are told each player earns after such recreational exercise. A constant reminder, if ever I needed one, that I signed up for the wrong career. So for me, Football, Tennis, F1, Basketball and the rest of the sports I’m passionate about, I “read” LIVE mostly via BBC Sports page so I can multitask while at it.

But I digress.

The actual reason for this post is my obsession with Liverpool Football Club which goes all the way back 20 years. I had just completed secondary school and out of boredom, sat with my ‘soccer-loving’ older brother to watch his beloved Arsenal play against Liverpool in the 2001 FA Cup Finals at the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff.

Before this time, I was very passive about football. I didn’t hate it but didn’t love it either. I just tolerated it. I barely watched Nigeria’s Super Eagles, let alone some team in another country. Anyway, all that was to change that day as I watched a certain Michael Owen tear Arsenal’s defence apart twice! That match ended 2:1 in favour of Liverpool and a great romance was born.

The ‘love-in’ peaked 4 years later during the 2005 Champions League Finals against AC Milan at the Attaturk Stadium in Istanbul. If you are too young to recall what happened that night, then from now on, it won’t be wrong to address me as “Uncle”. If you don’t believe in miracles, watching this video should change your mind. Jokes apart, just simply google“The miracle of Istanbul” and see for yourself.

Now imagine my surprise when yesterday, I received a parcel from a really good friend. The gift turned out to be one of the bricks from the Main Stand Boundary Wall of the club’s Anfield Stadium. The pamphlet details how it was pulled down in 2014 while developing the new and ultramodern Main Stand.

I was so overwhelmed with joy that my wife teased me for acting like a 5-year old. Again, would you blame me? The symbolism of the day (St. Valentine’s Day eve) wasn’t lost on me either. 😍

Several years later and I can say that I now know the club inside out, having researched thoroughly and acquainted myself with all of its history — the halcyon days of the eighties and nineties. Shankly, Paisley, Morran, Dalglish, Rush, Barnes, Grobelaar, Souness, so many great names. Added to those from more recent times, Fowler, Owen, Torres, Suarez, Gerrard, Coutinho…even more greatness!

It won’t be wrong to say that the club has experienced really hard times with its fair share of tragedy (Hillsborough and Heysel come to mind) and nearly going bankrupt in 2010. However, with the careful guidance of Jurgen Klopp on the pitch and the American owners FSG off it, the club recorded the largest profit in British Football a few weeks ago and moved up two places as a result to seventh in the Deloitte Football Money League, which is further proof that there’s some light at the end of the tunnel. These days, with players like Salah, Mane, Van Dijk, Firmino, it’s not difficult to see the ability to compete.

One of the main draws for this club is its ‘soul’, as it always finds a way to spring a surprise. Nobody gave them a chance last year and the one before that but look where they ended up? The Europa and Champions League Finals. Now with 12 games of the current season left, they are joint top of the EPL, having played a game less. Come the end of the season, who knows if the 29-year wait for the EPL title would be over. We wait and see.

More importantly, I believe what has kept the club going all these years is that it’s a genuine “family club” if there ever was one and I’m happy to be associated with it.

To my thoughtful friend and all reds around the world, “Walk on…You’ll never walk alone!”

P.S: I still look forward to visiting Anfield some day soon.

redundancy |rəˈdəndənsē|: the state of being not or no longer needed or useful.

I know some would point out the contradiction to my initial statement. Well, it’s a hypothesis at best but I’ll share a real-life example.

A few weeks ago, on the 18th of January to be precise, Elon Musk sent out an email to his employees at Tesla. To some, it was a wake-up call, to others it was the end of the road.

Elon Musk is the founder, CEO, and lead designer of SpaceX; co-founder, CEO, and product architect of Tesla, Inc., co-founder and CEO of Neuralink; co-founder of PayPal and Chairman of SolarCity.

“To those departing, thank you for everything you have done to advance our mission. I am deeply grateful for your contributions to Tesla. We would not be where we are today without you.”

This got me thinking. Entrepreneurs are constantly living around the edges of chivalry and antagonism. Hero today, Villain tomorrow. They are often confronted with situations where they are left with no other choice except to bite to bullet.

Running a business of my own, I couldn’t help but create a parallel with Elon. It could well have been my name at the end of that email. Simply replace “Tesla” with “Bedouin” and it would have been par for the course.

He continues:

“This is not new for us — we have always faced significant challenges — but it is the reality we face. There are many companies that can offer a better work-life balance, because they are larger and more mature or in industries that are not so voraciously competitive. Attempting to build…at scale necessarily requires extreme effort and relentless creativity, but succeeding in our mission is essential to ensure that the future is good, so we must do everything we can to advance the cause.”

His last 3 paragraphs sounded more reassuring.

“To those departing, thank you for everything you have done to advance our mission. I am deeply grateful for your contributions (to Tesla). We would not be where we are today without you.

For those remaining, although there are many challenges ahead, I believe we have the most exciting product roadmap of any consumer product company in the world.

I am honored to work alongside you.”

He ended the letter fittingly with “Thanks for everything”.

If the roles were reversed and you were the employee receiving the email, either on the staying or departing side, what would be your next line of action? Please leave comments below. I’ll love to read from you.

For me, I’d like to think that Redundancy inspires productivity.

To those that read to the end,

Thanks for everything,
Ayoola.

Social media (in all its manifestations) often appears like the world’s best kept secret but even then, it is undeniable that there are no secrets on social media! A notification here, a nudge there, you’re constantly reminded (read that as harassed) about milestones, goals and projections.

If you pay closer attention, you’ll realize that social media knows a lot more about you than you give it credit for. Scary! It is like the time keeper with the demanding task of ringing bells in people’s ears or the class captain with an equally unenviable task of getting everyone into shape.

Which brings me to the reason for this post. Linkedin just notified me that I’ve been 6 years at Bedouin (pronounced Bed-Win). Wow!

It feels like only yesterday that I was contemplating trading off ALL my material belongings to enable me actualize a burning ambition to activate a 2-year part-scholarship to study in the US, which had precipitated my resignation from my last place of work.

I eventually gave up the scholarship and the idea of travelling altogether since it was beyond my means, despite my efforts at raising the funds. In the end, it turned out to become a quintessential example of how not all disappointments turn out to be bad after all.

I got inspired to pour out my energies and some frustration on a business I had registered 14 months prior but didn’t feel adequate to run yet. Not in my wildest dreams would I have thought I could build let alone run a business at the time.

Not to be deterred, I set out with my Canon 60D camera + gear, old Mackbook Pro, which were the only legacies of savings from my convoluted work history.

I recall barely having anything left each month after paying for Internet, Fuel, NEPA and giving allowances to the 2 guys that started with me as interns. We operated out of my bedroom in an apartment my siblings and I contributed some money to rent for our mum. My workstation was a converted shoe rack!

It’s been six years of sacrifices, sleepless nights, heartbreak, disappointments and frustration but it’s also been a jolly good ride. I’ve established a lot of connections and made a lot of friends and enemies in the process.

From very humble beginnings, our business has grown in value and impact. The goal had always been to make steady progress to achieve organic growth on a year-on-year basis despite the headwinds. As at first quarter last year, that figure stood north of $700,000!

It has not been a walk in the park. We’ve been forced to tweak our business model three times and and on the verge of our most ambitious pivot yet.

I designed the roadmap and blueprint that currently drives the business forward, but I wasn’t alone. I’ve had a fully grounded support system made up of a close circle of friends and my ever-supportive family. I’m particularly grateful to Kayode Kolade for working with me to craft that vision, Tunji Mesh for providing his expertise when available. Segun Ogunleye, Basit Arasi for their constant support and guidance. I can’t mention everyone but I’m truly thankful for every time anyone has said NO to me.

Here’s to 60 more years!

Where do I start from? How about from scratch?

Saturday 3rd of November 2018 and I could have been anywhere. From staying back with my friend/host in Remo (I was invited the previous day as guest speaker at Babcock University where he lectures), on my bed (introvert, anti-social, whatever!). I really could use ANY excuse of not having to leave the comfort of my home so early to attend a function by 9am! Haba! Don’t you people rest?

Ironically, my daily routine involves waking up really early (I suffer from something akin to Insomnia 😢) so I got up early as usual, did all whatnots and was ready by 8:30am. I had factored it’ll take roughly 30 mins to get to the venue (Victoria Island), being a Saturday. Even better, because I wasn’t driving and had to rely on Taxify (this is not an ad), which means more time to put a few thoughts together, scribble some notes on my phone and just generally relax. It’s been a hell of a week after all!

A little bit of backstory at this point to understand how I got here. Ever since my unsuccessful application for the SEED Programme in June, I’ve been fascinated by just about everything Stanford and so it was, that when I got the notification from Stanford Seed Transformation Network about the masterclass, I made a note to attend but as the day kept approaching and until the D-day, I was forced to confront obstacles of all sorts which included the lure of my comfy bed, the temptation of my friend’s wife’s delicious soup and orishirishi, and finally my car going for repairs presented me with the perfect excuse to cancel but it now feels like such an achievement to not have given in to any of those urges, the best decision I’ve made in recent times. Phew!

I was initially going to make this about how relatable most of the lessons were, citing certain examples of mine, to buttress the point and further emphasize the parallels that often exist with ENTREPRENEURSHIP but I’ve decided to dive right it in and make it simply about the lessons learned from the class itself.

So I arrived at the venue at 9:15 am (2nd person on the list). Sadly, we still have a horrible culture of time-keeping in Nigeria (Does any one have ideas on how to solve this problem? Thinking a ‘MINISTER OF TIME’ won’t be out of place since we now have ‘COMMISSIONERS OF HAPPINESS’). I joke! Anyway, the organizers decided to start by 9:30am, not minding the attendance. I usually don’t sit at the front during gatherings but I did this one time, so I had a clear view of all the proceedings, even if I wasn’t sure what to expect.

Turns out the facilitator, Seyi Abolaji (the other half of Nigeria’s home grown brand “Wilson’s Lemonade”) is a master presenter indeed. He was mesmerizing as he was lucid. Not that He did anything fancifully, actually He kept it simple by going to his prepared notes, which just made everything appear so easy — my first lesson of the day by the way: Keep it simple!

He started by sharing a brief story of how he and his older brother, Seun started the company with just Two Thousand Naira (N2,000) — you read that correctly! but that wasn’t the interesting part for me. He told us how they despite growing up in the U.S., identified the opportunities that the rest of us ‘locals’ usually let slip by. First, he narrated how his parents braced the odds to try to give them a decent life, interpreted as “relocating to the U.S. as immigrants”. Then cue all sorts of odd jobs to meet their target of raising their kids and giving them better choices in life. They obviously succeeded at this target — the kids turned out great and even managed to attend good schools — Seyi was on the football team at same Stanford University but that’s where the twist of fate occurred. They (the kids) DID NOT feel compelled to tow the same paths as their parents and other relatives abroad. If anything, they did the exact opposite by coming back to Nigeria. According to him, he abandoned his GOOD job with GOOD pay after University and instead, bought a one-way ticket to Nigeria after getting challenged by one of his lecturers to identify opportunity where others couldn’t. And so it was that Wilson’s Lemonade was started. Lesson: Confront your fears early and quickly.

He mentioned how they discovered that everyone (their cousins, friends etc) were always apologetic, saying “sorry” to them for the things that weren’t working — bad roads, no light, etc but as this continued, they only saw OPPORTUNITIES. Also, most of their peers at the time only had ambition to join the labour market to “wear a suit” and finally, one that stuck — the ambition of most young people at the time was to leave the country (I dare say this is even worse now). The latter two for them represented “Less(er) COMPETITION!” Lesson: Keep your eye on the competition (What are they not doing?).

It was never easy (probably still isn’t if you asked me), but in his words “It’s a lot better now than when we started”. He narrated how they used to crush the lemons, mix, taste the lemonade by themselves using water from a local restaurant to now CREATING THEIR OWN FORMULA, having their own staff and their factory based in Ota (Ogun State). Lesson: Be Intentional and realize that it will only get better if you do it the right way (with purpose).

Another piece of information that stuck (maybe the most vital), He and his brother (who by the way, he makes a mental note to always refer to as his partner) visited Coca-Cola several times. They made friends with everyone from the plant manager to the machine operator — each one of whom appeared to nurse the same burning desire to one day take all that knowledge of working at the biggest beverage company in the world to start their own companies but guess what? The barrier of entry would always be too high! Why? Because according to him, “They simply know too much!”. The machine guy believes he only needs to acquire that machine, which he’s also aware would cost a couple of millions, so he’s working so he can save up enough for the purchase. Lesson: You need LESS of capital and knowledge to start, JUST START!

He talked about managing failure by addressing that one time amongst many others, where they failed — changing the product pack from square bottle to ‘sexy’ round bottle in order to fit in just because everyone else was doing it. This was against the grain of their culture to BE DIFFERENT. They’ve since reverted to the original (which ostensibly was regarded as “Ugly” at inception but has grown on people so much that it has now become classic! Lesson: Stay true to your values, don’t change to please everyone. Focus and listen to the inner voice of your true consumer but be ready to fail anyway! You’ll keep learning on the way.

For all of two hours, Seyi Abolaji held everyone in the audience spell bound and helped strengthen my resolve but more importantly, he’s given me more ammo to take to the battle front. I also recall his opinion about Nigeria needing more of PRODUCTIVITY and less of CHARITY and I couldn’t agree more. He argues that the advanced countries have more than enough luxury, hence can afford to adopt more of the latter but I digress.

In summary, the entire class was based around Leadership, Failure, Identity, Curiosity, Values & Culture, Innovation, Marketing, Setting Goals and to round off, He took us through a practical work-out session on how to manage finance and do basic accounting without the aid of “consultants” and all the abracadabra that usually follows (I really needed this as I’ve suffered a lot in this regard).

What Next? For me, cue how fired up I was to go implement some of the lesson notes, starting with the “Wilson’s Pledge”. Seyi, if you’re reading this, I hope I have your permission to borrow some elements from that to create something for my organization?

Side Note: I have met and been in touch severally with the second half of Wilson’s Lemonade (Seun), so this felt like completing the circle for me and in a similar vein as I’ve done his brother, I’ve challenged Seyi with an insight (derived from brand loyalty and consumer behavior), one that I believe could bring a whole new dimension to their product. That not withstanding, I have no doubts in my mind that this truly inspiring story has birthed a genuinely formidable brand, run by truly remarkable people who only have one place to go, UP! Kudos to the visionaries and the rest of the Wilson’s Lemonade team.

“The cowards never started, the weak died along the way and that leaves us!” — Phil Knight (Founder of Nike from his book Shoe Dog).