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.
