The applause from the University of Enugu had barely faded when Chinedu locked himself in his office for two straight days with stacks of papers, flight route maps, and aviation feasibility studies. The governor's hint about a struggling airline had stuck in his mind, and now the opportunity was beginning to take shape. The company's debt load, the aircraft conditions, the available routes—everything pointed to one conclusion: if acquired and restructured properly, it could be the crown jewel of Imperial Holdings' transport division.
But first, he needed the right foundation to handle the scale of expansion that was coming. That's when Imperial Construction was born. Not just another construction firm—it would be the builder for every Imperial Holdings project, from farm infrastructure to retail malls to depot sites. This way, every naira spent on expansion would stay in the ecosystem.
Through contacts in Guangdong, he began negotiating for second-hand industrial machines from China. Processing lines, cold storage units, automated packaging equipment—veterans in the industry called them outdated, but Chinedu knew they were reliable workhorses that could be upgraded locally at a fraction of the cost.
It was during one of these long evenings that Ireti walked into his office with a file and that look she wore when she was about to push him out of his comfort zone.
"We should start farms in the North," she said simply, sliding the file across his desk.
He frowned slightly. "Ireti… you know the situation. Security issues, kidnappings, terrorism. It's not just a business risk—it's a human risk."
She didn't back down. "I know. But the land is fertile, and no one is making the move. If we do, and we partner with local leaders, we could feed half the country from there."
He sat back in his chair, tapping a pen against his palm. It wasn't the first time he'd dismissed an idea only for it to circle back later as a strategic breakthrough. And this time, something clicked—not about the farms themselves, but about the Imperial brand.
"All retail stores…" he said slowly, "we make them Imperial Malls. Full shopping experiences—fresh food, household goods, everything under one roof. And the depots? Rebrand them as Imperial Oil Stations. Fuel, mini-marts, convenience… maybe even electric charging in the future."
Ireti smiled faintly. "So you're thinking bigger than just farming."
"I'm thinking in loops," he replied. "The farms feed the malls, the transport moves the goods, the oil stations feed the fleet, and the airline ties the whole country together."
It was the first time he said it out loud: Imperial Holdings was no longer just a business—it was becoming an ecosystem.
The days ahead would be filled with meetings, blueprint revisions, procurement schedules, and delicate talks with both Chinese suppliers and Nigerian aviation authorities. But as the plan spread across the desk before him, with lines linking oil stations to malls, malls to farms, farms to processing plants, and everything feeding into the airline hub, Chinedu felt a rare moment of quiet satisfaction.
The empire was beginning to take its final shape—one that could stretch beyond Nigeria's borders.