In Abuja, the whispers had grown into sharp conversations. Ministers, old oligarchs, and business rivals gathered in private dinners to discuss one man's shadow: Chinedu Ibrahim Obasi.
"He's no longer building companies," one northern tycoon grumbled, swirling his glass of whisky. "He's building a state within a state. Banks, power, farms, oil, entertainment—what's left for the rest of us?"
The Finance Minister, who had earlier clashed with Imperial Bank's rise, leaned forward. "He's dangerous. Today it's housing and farms. Tomorrow, it could be railways, defense, even politics."
For the first time, they weren't laughing at Chinedu. They were afraid.
The Strategy Office.
Back in Enugu, Chinedu had ordered a full-scale review. Imperial Holdings' Strategy Office—a brain trust of economists, engineers, and former bankers—had been tasked with one mission: examine every subsidiary and find new loops of integration.
The report was staggering:
Imperial Farms → Imperial Restaurants → Imperial Malls created a closed food chain.
Imperial Oil → Imperial Upstream → Imperial Power (solar & hydro) covered energy supply from crude to clean.
Imperial Real Estate → Imperial Bank → Imperial Insurance locked customers into long-term dependency.
Imperial Communications → Imperial Entertainment → Imperial Cinemas & Media made him a cultural gatekeeper.
The loops weren't just efficient—they were inescapable. Once someone entered the Imperial system, they rarely left.
"Sir," the chief strategist concluded, "we are no longer competing company by company. We are building an ecosystem. To break us, they must break everything. That is nearly impossible."
Chinedu sat back, fingers steepled, eyes calm. Exactly as I intended.
The report soon leaked—perhaps intentionally, perhaps not. In Lagos clubs and Abuja boardrooms, panic set in.
"This boy wants to be Rockefeller, Ford, and Disney in one," muttered a senior banking CEO.
"He's cornering the youth, the markets, even the narrative," added a media mogul. "If we wait another year, it will be too late."
Calls to foreign embassies increased. Old money began lobbying Europe and the US for "investigations into monopolistic practices."
Some even whispered the unthinkable: "We may need to push him into politics. If he enters government, we can control him better than from outside."
But no one dared move openly yet.
Late one evening, Tunde entered Chinedu's Lagos mansion with a thick folder.
"Boss," he said, laying it on the table, "this is the evaluation of all subsidiaries. The loops are strong, but if you approve, we can push further—tie Imperial Bank into every subsidiary transaction as mandatory, and use Imperial Insurance as leverage. Customers will be locked in for life."
Chinedu flipped through the report, a faint smile crossing his face.
"Good," he replied. "Let them panic. Panic means they've already lost."
Outside, Lagos nightlife throbbed, unaware that in quiet rooms of power, Nigeria's old elite were plotting desperately to stop the man who was turning an empire into a system no rival could escape.