The announcement of Imperial Bank shook the entire financial sector. At first, the noise came from the usual places—newspapers, TV commentators, social media critics. But beneath the surface, in boardrooms and government offices, the reaction was darker, sharper.
Because the smart ones knew.
This was not just another billionaire opening a vanity bank. This was a man who already controlled food, transport, oil, real estate, entertainment, power, and communications. If he added banking and insurance, then every transaction Nigerians made—from eating to fueling their cars, from paying rent to streaming music, from taking a loan to insuring a business—would flow through his empire.
One banker whispered in a hushed boardroom in Lagos:
"If he succeeds, Imperial Holdings becomes the shadow government of Nigeria. No one—political or financial—can match that."
The pushback began immediately.
Old Banks banded together quietly, lobbying regulators to stall his license approvals. They spread rumors that Imperial's financial model was unsustainable, a dangerous bubble that could crash the economy.
Insurers panicked at his plans for Imperial Insurance. One executive called it "a death sentence to the old way of doing business." They began funding negative press, portraying Chinedu as a monopolist.
Politicians outside his alliances saw danger too. A Lagos senator warned behind closed doors: "Today it's business, tomorrow it's power. A man with his own bank and insurance arm doesn't just compete. He rules.
Foreign Interests—especially Europeans with long ties to Nigerian banking—leaned in as well. They had watched Chinedu's ties to the US and China grow, and the idea of him creating a financial hub independent of them was unacceptable.
Chinedu read all of this in the reports Temilade placed on his desk. He felt the storm building. Yet instead of fear, he felt clarity.
"This is what it means to move from a tycoon to a sovereign," he said to Ireti one night. "If they fear me now, they have already lost."
But fear had teeth.
The Central Bank quietly delayed the approval of Imperial Bank's national license, demanding endless documents. Anonymous op-eds appeared in the press accusing Imperial Holdings of planning to launder money through its subsidiaries. Even whispers of "foreign intelligence reports" began to circulate, as if he were a threat to national stability.
On social media, hashtags surged: #StopImperialBank, #NoToMonopoly, #WhoOwnsNigeria.
The tension reached its height when a coalition of five old banks issued a joint statement warning that "any attempt to concentrate too much financial power under one entity poses systemic risks to Nigeria's economy."
Everyone knew who they were talking about.
But Chinedu was not backing down. He countered with results, not words:
He revealed that Imperial Real Estate mortgages would launch at interest rates half that of the old banks.
He announced Imperial Bank's digital app would allow farmers and traders in villages to access loans directly—cutting out the predatory middlemen.
He dropped a bombshell: Imperial Insurance would launch with instant claim approval technology, something no other insurer had dared to attempt.
The public loved it. For ordinary Nigerians, he wasn't a monopolist—he was a liberator from greedy banks and corrupt insurers.
Behind the scenes, however, the smart people doubled their efforts. Regulators began talking about new laws to "limit concentration of cross-industry power." Some governors warned that his reach could soon exceed the federal government's own.
And then came the most chilling rumor: a secret meeting between three billionaires, two governors, and a former president—where the only topic on the table was how to stop Chinedu Obasi before it was too late.
In his Lagos residence, as reports poured in, Chinedu leaned back in his chair. The city lights shimmered outside, but his mind was on the storm gathering around him.
They're right, he thought. If I succeed here, I will be unstoppable.
He closed the folder of reports, a faint smile forming on his lips.
"So let the game begin."