SUNNY IGBOANUGO
“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as a Michaelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, ‘Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.” – Martin Luther King.
On the evening of Thursday, October 2, 2025, I was one of the scores of faces at the Lagos Continental (LC) arguably one of the most prestigious hotels in Nigeria today – an imposing sightful structure somewhere on Kofo Abayomi Street in Victoria Island in the nation’s commercial city. By the way, it is advetrtised as the tallest hotel in the whole of Africa.
I nearly cursed my ill-luck for being in Lagos at the time, because outside Lagos, I would have had a more cogent and verifiable reason not to attend the event. When my boss forwarded the invite to me on WhatsApp, I had paid little heed to it, knowing it was not a place for me.
But then, my boss informed me later that I was going to accompany him. That was when, as the Americans would say – the nickel dropped! All attempts to hedge and dodge on the matter, were conveniently dismissed. I had hoped the – strictly black-tie event, also inscribed on the card, which sounded more like a warning than information – was going to be a convenient excuse. But it wasn’t.
“Then go get them. They’re in the market.” That was my boss, when I complained that I wore suits and ties last some 20 years ago and that my wardrobe had warned me that they were now an anathema and no longer welcome within its bowel.
I had actually read an interview, where the late Prof. Chukwuemeka Ike, famous academic and later monarch of Ndikelionwu community in Anambra had once warned that even at death someone put a tie on him, he would wake up and strangulate the person with it.
I shared the sentiments behind his position, but thank God, mine wasn’t that extreme. So, I did get one and attended the event. In the end, I was glad I did, because had the bolts and nuts, bits and pieces, odds and ends of my sentiments stopped me, I would have missed one of the greatest events I ever witnessed in my over three decades stretch in my career as a journalist.
Yes, only a “one kain” journalist – to use the Nigerian parlance would have spent such a long period on the job and still be too fascinated about dinners, banquets, luncheons. For me, they hold no special place, especially those involving crossing seven wildernesses and seven seas to attend, such as driving in the drudgery and tortuous Lagos traffic to do so, more especially late at night.
Not only have I attended tonnes of them – at the instances of government houses, political organisations, global institutions, corporate bodies, foreign embassies – and gained therefrom experiences that would last me a lifetime, but my palate has become so saturated from the diverse cousins and dishes, at each point, some tasteful, others banal that my taste bud itself is now confused. In other words, I have other ideas of killing my time.
So, trust me in giving my honest review on this one when I say it is one of the grandest I have ever experienced, if not the grandest. I can’t possibly recall a grander one. This became evident from the first step I took into the foyer of the third floor of the imposing structure, leading into the array of immaculately-attired men and women sharing drinks and having hearty conversations – of course – virtually all in black ties or something resembling it.
I would have mistaken that Thursday’s breathtaking experience for the grandeur of the ambience were it my first time here. But apart from attending several other functions within, LC was one of the preferred choices of residency for my former Minister boss, whenever we travelled to Lagos from Abuja, especially if the function had to do within Lagos Island. So, I was somewhat on a familiar ground.
This is the creation of human mind and construction of human hand, I said to myself, as I eventually sat in my corner inside the dinner hall from the cocktail arena, where I was ushered to by one of the delicate-looking but professionally nuanced ladies aiding the guests.
Having quickly switched on to my professional garb, I began to watch the scenery continue to unfold, thenceforth, pretending to mind my business, while actually minding other people’s businesses, which is actually my business and the business of every journalist.
At The Guardian in those days, the primary injunction to reporters, was to look out for something unique – something that must have missed the eyes of other people – it was one of the elements that made it the flagship of Nigerian journalism at that time.
I took in every detail of the sequence – strung together like the delicate knitting of a weaverbird. Like the fine brushstrokes of Michelangelo’s The Sistine Chapel or Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, the choreography was a complete work of art – complete in its forms and ideas. It was a kaleidoscope of concepts and colours.
I took in the assemblage of the guests. It was not only a full rollcall of Nigeria’s high and mighty but a clear statement on the country itself in terms of how the sharp differences in its diversity could melt away and like a good seasoning, enhance the taste of the food rather than destroy it.
Even the menu presented its own allure. The literature on each food and drink, was delivered to the minutest details in specific language couched in elegant prose that presented in itself a mastery of its own art forms.
Finding ukwa – cooked breadfruit seeds, mashed in African red cooking oil with a sprinkling of chili-pepper sauce and served with a choice of dried fish sauced in native spices – my own words since I couldn’t remember how it was captured – among this list, was heavenly.
Then came the entry of Benedith Orama, the man of the moment. It was decked in its own unique fanfare obviously directed at interpreting his persona. The well-choreographed theatre, bespoke of not only originality, but itself a study in pure creative skill. With all eyes turning to the entrance, at the sounding of the opi, the picturesque characterisation showcased a man who despite conquering at the global environment, had not lost touch with home.
Opi, an Igbo trumpet accompanies only great men – not only titled men, but great achievers. In tow were the masquerades – the Atumma – elegance and beauty, the Okwomma or Mgbadike for energy and valour and of course the old, fearsome one for wisdom and authority – depicting Orama’s diverse but complete identity as a man of many parts.
Put together by Fidelity Bank, Plc, the event, titled: Celebration of a Titan, was a way of honouring the erudite scholar, author and Professor of International Trade and Finance, as he bows out as President and Chairman of Board of the African Export-Import Bank (Afreximbank), where he had served since 2015.
Summing up the entire package, left me with little imagination on why the bank maintains a prime position at the top level of Nigeria’s financial industry over the years despite all odds. I was not the more surprised that the person that curated the scenic choreography is the same Nneka Onyeali-Ikpe, the Managing Director and Chief Executive Officer, given whose transformational identity has attracted immense celebration locally and international.
Such flawless, pin-drop efficiency, as was on display on Thursday, could only be achieved by someone not only with eyes for the minutest details but with the ability, capacity and authority to employ such attributes to create things beyond the average.
As she mounted the podium to speak, I quickly ran a further check to update my knowledge about her stint in the bank and discovered that virtually everything about her were in superlatives.
Lawyer, administrator with PhD honoris causa in Business Administration from the University of Nigeria, Nsukka (UNN), Officer of the Order of the Niger (OON) – The Banker of the Year 2022 –-Best Banking CEO Nigeria 2023 – Top 25 CEOs in Nigeria, etc., it was quite a mouthful.
But beyond this tall profile on paper I could decipher the more distinct and compelling attributes that only well-trained eyes for details could fathom. Even hidden behind the glittering allure that accentuated her femineity as she stood there on the podium to welcome her guests, they still stood out – intelligence, power and authority – elements that when nailed together with education and long-term experiences are bound to create the strong platform for the erection of the formidable edifice that Fidelity Bank has become under her watch.
That the institution was among the first to meet the new capitalisation threshold – just few months after the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) announced the new policy, might just as well be attributed to the visible display of grit, passion, focus and competence.
Quietly taking everything in from my vintage position at my table and gobbling down every aspect of the event including the classical choral performances, poetry renditions, and sizzling displays by the legendary Theresa Onuora of Egedege Dance Group and Flavour, Nigeria’s celebrated singer and performer, I began to surf through the history of powerful women across the globe to ascertain in which genre the top banker could fit in perfectly.
Margret Thatcher of Britain, Aung Sang Suu Kyi, the Myanmar politician and leader, Angela Merkel, former German Chancellor, our own Ellen Johnson Sirleaf of Liberia. Though great women of history none fitted into the character I was looking for.
Then it hit me! Madelein Albright – first United States female Secretary of States. Sweeping through the assemblage with my eyes, many of the characterisation in “Madam Secretary” – where the iconic US top diplomat told her own story in that highly-acclaimed autobiography came to the fore and began to play out before me like a reel from the cinema tape.
Only the mental acuity, rare intelligence, power of influence and the ability to harness and manage both human and material resources, with which Albright held together the Bill Clinton administration, making it one of the most memorable in recent US history, could gather the quality of individuals, create the ambience to capture and sustain their interests far into the night and ultimately lead to such loud applause at curtain-fall on that Thursday.
Now, as I sat, capturing all the moments, a thought also flickered through my mind. I began to imagine this iconic banker and achiever in the garb of a governor – particularly that of my state – Anambra. Certainly, her type is the best advertisement anyone could make for women in power. Hers could achieve more results than just wordy advocacy and even legislation.
I won’t be surprised to hear that one United Nations agency or global institution has head-hunted and taken her away from our clime to a place where her talent would not only blossom, but where it would be best appreciated.
But before that happens, it would be my remit to use every opportunity to inform her that whenever her stint ends on this her present job, some of us will be waiting with a greater assignment back home.
Don’t be surprised. The next time you see yours truly, it might be in the streets of protesting and mobilising in lieu of this project. For such a project, I could swim across the River Niger without life jacket to make it happen.
Leg crossed, sipping my drinks contentedly and waiting to call the party sometime in future, it will be more appropriate to say: Take a bow, Dr. Nneka Onyeali-Ikpe, our own Madelein Albright – not the US Madam Secretary – but Nigerian Madam Banker! Take a bow, Achalugo, Ugobeze, Nwa-afo amuchara amucha. Take a bow, Adadioramma!