Feature/OPED
Food Crisis And Nigeria’s Multi Dimensional Poverty
By Jerome-Mario Utomi
If there is any fresh fact that supports the claim by the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) in November 2022 that the Multidimensional Poverty Index (MPI) is higher in rural areas than in urban areas, it is my experience during a short visit to Agbor, a community which, according to Wikipedia, is the most populous among the Ika people, located in and functions as the headquarter of Ika South Local Government Area of Delta State in South-south geo-political zone of Nigeria.
Among many other observations, the referenced report puts the MPI in rural areas at 72% and that of urban areas at 42%, thereby confirming that a much higher proportion of people living in rural areas compared to those living in urban areas are multidimensionally poor.
The report further noted that 63% (about 133 million people), that is about 6 out of every 10 Nigerians, are multidimensionally poor, with 65% (86 million) and 35% (47 million) of the poor living in the North and South of Nigeria, respectively. The implication is that location matters with respect to poverty and unemployment.
Essentially, as a Nigerian resident in Lagos, I have come across many reports that underlined Nigeria as a nation confronted with both food insecurity and crisis. Again, aside from witnessing commentators argue at different times and places that when food continues to rise in price, everyone feels it, but those with less money, understandably, feel it far more, as they have to spend more of their money on the essentials: housing and food.
I have also, on the other hand, before embarking on that trip, seen parents go without food to ensure that children can eat. Particularly, as prices of staple foods in Lagos, such as rice have reportedly morphed from N35.000 to well over N50,000. Other items such as noodles have equally and appreciably added in prices as the smallest pack which used to sell for N100 now hovers between N130 and N150.
While these heightened price regimes were considered worrying by Lagosians, new facts derived from my latest visit show that if the ongoing food inflation in Lagos is a challenge, the experience in local communities/small towns like Agbor is a crisis.
I arrived at Agbor in the evening and was adequately taken care of by my host and, therefore, made it straight to my hotel room without having any contact with food vendors within and outside the guest house.
The following morning, I thought it wise to observe my breakfast before resuming the assignment that brought me to the town. I approached the reception to ascertain what their breakfast arrangement looks like but was told in plain language that they have no provision/arrangement for such.
With that response, I stepped out onto Old Lagos-Asaba road and just a few buildings away from the guest house was a ‘fast food’ vendor. As it was breakfast that I needed, I politely requested that he prepare two packs (the smallest size) of noodles and two eggs for me. And just immediately, she replied; it will cost you N1,200. How come? I asked. If this is sold at this price, how can jobless Nigerians, particularly the youths, afford such meals? I further queried. Then she replied; Oga, that is the amount; it is either you buy or leave me alone. The jobless Nigerians you are talking about are already aware of the price regime. The rest they say is history.
Scene 2: In the afternoon of the same day, while on my way back to the guest house, I saw a woman who sells roasted yam by the roadside. The pieces of yam displayed were ‘wickedly’ cut into tiny framed sizes and could conveniently be likened to the worth sold for N100 in Lagos. I greeted the woman and thereafter, pointed at two pieces. She replied saying; it was N400. Without pressing further or seeking further clarification, I requested that she prepare it for me.
Handing over the yam to me, which was garnished with three pieces of meat sold at N600 (N200 a piece), I innocently flashed one thousand naira note at her. Lo and behold, the woman told me that I had to give her an additional N200 as the total value of what I bought was N1200. How come? When? I asked at the same time. It was then that she explained to me that the two pieces of yam were actually sold for N800 at N400 per piece.
Also devastating and of course another reason for us to be alarmed is the awareness that this galloping inflation in Agbor, Delta State and its environs is not limited to food items alone but affects accommodation. In what is in some ways a more brazen move is that in Agbor, house rent is higher when juxtaposed with the experience in some parts of Lagos.
This is the challenge facing communities in our republic. The high cost of food and accommodation in Agbor may have existed in an overt manner, the experience in other towns and communities in the country may be worse but exists in covert forms.
Talking about food insecurity in Nigeria, many have argued that the food challenge in the country has been impacted especially by violent conflicts, including the insurgency in the North East; armed banditry in the Northwest; perennial farmer/herder conflicts in the North Central, South West, and increasingly across the country; and separatist agitation in the South East among others.
To others, the challenge is exacerbated by natural disasters; in particular, the rising incidence and frequency of floods in large parts is a consequence of climate change impact, which continues to affect food production and the availability and affordability of food.
A sterling example is the report by the National Emergencies Management Agency (NEMA), 2022 which among other remarks observed that floods led to the destruction and washing away of over 675,000 hectares of farmland.
“One can only imagine the extent of the impact of this scale of destruction of farmlands on agricultural activities and food production across the country. Farmers, the majority of whom are small-scale farmers, lost not only crops and harvests, but also farm animals, poultry, fishery, and farm implements to the raging floods.”
Whatever the true picture may be, there are in the opinion of this piece multiple reasons why the federal and of course state governments in Nigeria should undertake strategic efforts to solve the problem of food inflation not just in Agbor but across the country.
Aside from the fundamental relationship between the food crisis and inflation and its harmful effects on every economy, the human population in the country quadrupled and unemployment multiplied in the past decades and the average impact of this uncontrolled increase on the nation’s economy is tellingly obvious.
Undoubtedly, I believe and still believe that as a country desirous of achieving sustainable development, the recent decision by the Federal Government to launch the conditional cash transfer policy for 15 million households on October 17, 2023, will not resolve the present hunger challenge in the country.
Rather, there are both specific and specialized reasons for the government to throw its weight behind agriculture by creating an enabling environment that will encourage Nigerian youths to take to farming.
First, aside from the worrying awareness that by 2050, global consumption of food and energy is expected to double as the world’s population and incomes grow, climate change is expected to have an adverse effect on both crop yields and the number of arable acres, we are in dire need of solution to this problem because unemployment has diverse implications.
Security-wise, a large unemployed youth population is a threat to the security of the few that are employed. Any transformation that does not have job creation as its main objective will not take us anywhere and the agricultural sector has the capacity to absorb the teeming unemployed youth in the country.
The second reason is that globally, there are dramatic shifts from agriculture in preference for white-collar jobs, a trend that urgently needs to be reversed.
Separate from job creation, averting malnutrition which constitutes a serious setback to the socio-economic development of any nation is another reason why Nigeria must embrace agriculture, a vehicle for food security and a sustainable socio-economic sector.
In fact, it was noted recently that in Nigeria, governments over the years have come to realize that sustainable growth is achievable only under an environment in which the generality of the people is exposed to a balanced diet, not just food. This explains why agricultural production should receive heightened attention. In Nigeria, an estimated 2.5 million children under five suffer from severe acute malnutrition (sam) annually, exposing nearly 420,000 children within that age bracket to early death from common childhood illnesses such as diarrhoea, pneumonia and malaria.
This is the best time for President Bola Ahmed Tinubu-led federal government and state governors to serve and save Nigerians from malnutrition and multi-dimensional poverty.
God bless Nigeria!!!
Utomi Jerome-Mario is the Programme Coordinator (Media and Policy) at the Social and Economic Justice Advocacy (SEJA), Lagos. He could be reached via [email protected]/08032725374
By Blaise Udunze
Could it be said that Nigeria’s true identity today represents a country suffering and grappling with soaring inflation, mass unemployment, failing public infrastructure and multidimensional poverty despite almost three decades of enormous public revenue inflows? With the look of things, one question therefore deserves urgent national attention. Without missing any words, what exactly has government at all levels done with the trillions of naira shared through the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC)?
One obvious fact is that since the return to democratic governance in 1999, Nigeria has witnessed a remarkable expansion in federal revenue sharing since the existence of this country.
Findings based on monthly allocations reported by FAAC and the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) showed that over the past 27 years, the FAAC has distributed an estimated N160 trillion among the Federal Government, the 36 states and the 774 local governments. The obvious here is that the figure represents one of the largest transfers of public resources in Nigeria’s history.
One would definitely assume that, since the removal of the fuel subsidy in June 2023, government revenues have risen dramatically. Not to miss out on other gains from crude oil earnings, statutory revenue, Value Added Tax (VAT), exchange-rate adjustments, electronic money transfer levies, customs collections and other federally collected revenues, resulting in unprecedented monthly FAAC allocations.
In 10 years alone, FAAC distributed approximately N25.58 trillion to the three tiers of government, with states and the FCT receiving about N13.8 trillion during the period. One would also wonder that since President Bola Tinubu assumed office in May 2023, more than N56 trillion has been distributed through FAAC.
Surprisingly, amidst it all, in just over three years, President Tinubu’s administration has presided over FAAC distributions amounting to approximately 35 per cent of the estimated N160 trillion shared since the return to democracy in 1999. In other words, more than one in every three naira ever distributed through FAAC over 27 years has been shared under the current administration. But this recent figure represents only a fraction of the larger national story.
The more important question is not simply how much money has been shared. The question is what Nigeria has built with more than N160 trillion in public allocations over nearly three decades.
What is of concrete concern is that the sheer size of N160 trillion is difficult to comprehend until placed beside Nigeria’s major economic indicators.
Nigeria’s total public debt stood at approximately N149.39 trillion as of March 31, 2025. This means that the estimated FAAC allocations shared since 1999 are larger than the country’s entire current debt stock. While FAAC funds cannot directly be compared with debt because they serve different fiscal purposes, the comparison highlights a critical reality that shows that Nigeria has generated and distributed enormous financial resources, yet still carries one of Africa’s largest debt burdens.
The comparison with national budgets is equally revealing. Come to think of it, Nigeria’s proposed N58.18 trillion 2026 budget represents one of the largest annual spending plans in the country’s history, whilst the cumulative FAAC allocations since 1999 are equivalent to almost three times the size of Nigeria’s 2026 federal budget.
No doubt, the implication is profound. A country that has shared resources equivalent to several annual national budgets should reasonably demonstrate significant improvements in infrastructure, healthcare, education, electricity, industrialisation and citizens’ welfare. But the reality remains different.
One thing is obvious today and cannot be disputed by the political players, both past and present: Nigeria continues to struggle with poor roads, unreliable electricity, inadequate healthcare facilities, overcrowded classrooms, high unemployment and widespread poverty.
The truth is that the comparison becomes even more striking when looking at specific sectors, as this would provide a clearer picture. Considering that Nigeria’s recent proposed 2026 budget allocates approximately N3.52 trillion for education, N2.48 trillion for health and N3.56 trillion for infrastructure, bringing the combined allocation for these three critical sectors to about N9.56 trillion. The estimated N160 trillion shared through FAAC since 1999 is more than 16 times the combined 2026 federal allocation for education, health and infrastructure.
This raises a fundamental question: if Nigeria has received resources sufficient to finance these strategic sectors multiple times over, why do citizens continue to experience declining social services?
The comparison with capital investment is also significant. Nigeria’s proposed 2026 capital expenditure of N26.08 trillion is only a fraction of the estimated FAAC allocations shared since 1999. Had a substantial portion of these revenues been consistently channelled into productive capital projects, Nigeria could have developed world-class transportation networks, reliable electricity systems, modern healthcare facilities, industrial clusters and globally competitive education infrastructure.
That is the scale of the opportunity Nigeria has had. Instead, millions of Nigerians continue asking a painful question: Where is the evidence?
Economic theory is straightforward. When governments receive large financial resources, citizens expect corresponding improvements in their standard of living. Public revenue exists to create public value, not merely to finance government administration. Imagine what N160 trillion could have achieved if strategically invested over 27 years.
Nigeria has an estimated housing deficit exceeding 28 million units. A sustained investment programme using only a fraction of FAAC resources could have delivered millions of affordable homes while creating massive employment opportunities across construction, cement, steel, furniture and logistics industries.
Strategic agricultural investment could have transformed Nigeria into a food-secure nation through irrigation systems, mechanised farming, storage facilities, rural roads and agro-processing industries.
Investment in healthcare could have ensured that every local government has functional primary healthcare centres equipped with trained personnel, essential medicines and modern facilities.
Education could have been completely transformed through improved teacher training, digital learning infrastructure, modern classrooms, research facilities and expanded access to quality education.
Nigeria’s electricity challenge could have received far greater attention through investments in transmission networks, renewable energy, gas-powered generation and embedded power solutions that would reduce the cost burden on businesses and households.
A significant portion of FAAC resources invested in small and medium-sized enterprises could have created millions of jobs, expanded local production and strengthened Nigeria’s private sector.
None of these ambitions was beyond Nigeria’s financial capacity. The resources existed. The challenge has been utilisation.
Across many states, FAAC has gradually become less of a development catalyst and more of a monthly survival mechanism. Salaries, recurrent expenditure, political appointments, administrative costs and government overheads consume substantial portions of public resources, while capital projects remain insufficient.
The dependence on FAAC has also discouraged many states from aggressively developing sustainable internally generated revenue. Many states still depend heavily on federal allocations, weakening fiscal innovation and reducing accountability. A system where governments wait monthly for federal transfers creates little incentive to build productive economies.
Ironically, decades of increased allocations have coincided with worsening economic realities. Food prices continue rising. Millions remain unemployed or underemployed. Hospitals struggle with inadequate equipment. Schools remain overcrowded. Roads continue deteriorating. Manufacturers battle high energy costs. Businesses continue closing. Families spend more of their income meeting basic needs.
This contradiction raises serious governance questions. In Nigeria’s case, painfully, revenue growth does not automatically create development. Development requires transparency, accountability, strategic planning and effective implementation.
Nigeria must therefore move beyond celebrating monthly FAAC figures and begin measuring the outcomes generated from those resources.
Every month, Nigerians hear announcements of billions and trillions shared among governments. But rarely do they hear: How many hospitals were completed? How many schools were renovated? How many kilometres of roads were delivered? How many jobs were created? How many communities gained access to clean water? How many businesses were supported?
Revenue announcements must never replace performance reports. Every state and local government should publish transparent FAAC utilisation reports showing allocations received, projects funded, costs, locations and measurable outcomes.
Technology makes this possible. Open budgeting platforms, public expenditure dashboards and digital monitoring systems can ensure citizens know how their resources are being deployed.
Transparency should no longer be optional. The Federal Government equally has a responsibility.
Higher revenues must translate into improved national infrastructure, stronger institutions, better security, industrial growth and enhanced social protection.
Nigeria cannot continue borrowing heavily while simultaneously receiving record public revenues without demonstrating corresponding developmental outcomes.
Public finance is not simply about collecting money. It is about creating lasting value. Roads improve commerce. Electricity supports industries. Education increases productivity. Healthcare strengthens human capital. Agriculture reduces dependence on imports. Digital infrastructure enhances competitiveness. These are investments that create future prosperity.
When public revenue is consumed mainly by recurrent obligations, future generations inherit debts without corresponding assets.
Nigeria must strengthen accountability institutions, including auditors-general, public accounts committees, anti-corruption agencies and civil society organisations, to monitor how FAAC resources are utilised.
Citizens also have a responsibility. Public money belongs to the people. Communities must demand evidence of projects funded by government resources.
The tragedy of Nigeria is not simply a shortage of revenue. It is the failure to convert revenue into development. Nigeria has demonstrated remarkable ability to generate public income. What remains lacking is the political discipline and institutional capacity to transform that income into national prosperity.
The estimated N160 trillion shared through FAAC since 1999 represented a historic opportunity to rebuild Nigeria’s economy and improve citizens’ lives.
Millions of jobs could have been created. Infrastructure could have been transformed. Poverty could have been reduced. Investor confidence could have strengthened. Living standards could have improved.
Instead, many Nigerians continue to experience economic hardship despite decades of enormous public revenue distribution.
History will not judge governments by how much FAAC they received. History will judge them by what those allocations built.
The real question is no longer whether Nigeria has enough money. The question is whether Nigeria has the leadership, accountability and political will to convert public wealth into public prosperity. Not to focus on using the FAAC as an electoral tool to weaponise the opposition. Until that happens, N160 trillion in FAAC allocations will remain a symbol of missed opportunity rather than a foundation for national transformation.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: [email protected]
By Gleb Tsipursky
Nigeria’s artificial intelligence conversation has moved from whether businesses will use the technology to how they can use it without creating expensive new forms of confusion. Business Post recently examined the practical barriers facing Nigerian SMEs, including infrastructure constraints, digital skills shortages, regulatory gaps, and the need for any new technology to show a visible return. That is the right frame. For a small or mid-sized business, a clever system that creates hidden rework can cost more than it saves.
The timing matters. The Deep Learning Indaba brought Africa’s machine-learning community to Lagos from August 2 to 7 under the theme of sovereign intelligence. Nigeria’s National Centre for Artificial Intelligence and Robotics is also promoting practical adoption, entrepreneurship, and locally grounded systems. The country has talent, ambition, and increasingly accessible tools. What many businesses still lack is a simple management mechanism for learning from the moments when those tools get things wrong.
Every SME adopting AI should keep an exception ledger.
An exception ledger is a short operational record of cases in which an employee had to correct, override, redo, or stop an AI-assisted task. It does not need special software. A spreadsheet can work. Each entry should answer five questions: What was the task? What did the system get wrong or leave uncertain? What did the employee do? What business consequence would have followed if nobody intervened? Does the same problem appear often enough to justify a change in the workflow?
That sounds modest, but it changes how a company measures AI. Most adoption discussions focus on usage, time saved, or the number of employees trained. Those figures reveal activity. They say little about whether the work is becoming more reliable.
Consider a distributor using AI to draft quotations. The system may save ten minutes on most quotes, but twice a week it could mix up a product specification or fail to carry through a delivery condition. If staff silently repair those errors, the company records the time savings while hiding the correction cost. The same pattern can occur in customer service, bookkeeping, marketing, procurement, recruitment, or inventory forecasting.
The ledger turns those invisible corrections into management information. If one mistake appears once, it may require no action. If the same exception appears repeatedly, managers can change the prompt, source data, approval step, software configuration, or division of responsibility between the employee and the system. The business then improves the workflow rather than merely telling staff to “be careful.”
This is particularly important in Nigeria because SMEs operate with little room for waste. Business Post’s recent coverage of responsible AI for African SMEs has emphasised that trust, security, and accountability need to grow alongside adoption. An exception ledger gives those principles an everyday operating form. It lets an owner see whether a tool is producing a manageable stream of minor corrections or creating a pattern that threatens cash, customers, compliance, or reputation.
The ledger also protects employees from a common failure in technology rollouts. When an AI system makes an error, the human reviewer can become the person blamed for failing to catch it. That creates a perverse incentive to hide problems. A formal exception process sends the opposite message: catching a failure is valuable information. Employees become sensors for workflow quality rather than the last invisible line of defence.
Managers should keep the process light. If logging an exception takes ten minutes, staff will avoid it. A useful entry should take less than a minute and use a few fixed categories, such as factual error, missing context, policy conflict, customer sensitivity, data problem, or unclear ownership. The goal is not paperwork. The goal is pattern recognition.
A monthly review can then identify three kinds of decisions. First, some tasks are safe enough for greater automation because exceptions remain rare and low impact. Second, some tasks need a stronger human checkpoint because errors are costly or difficult to detect. Third, some tasks should stay primarily human because the judgment involved cannot be reduced to a reliable rule at the current stage of the technology.
This approach also helps Nigerian SMEs avoid a false choice between moving fast and acting responsibly. Small businesses cannot afford elaborate governance structures modelled on large banks or multinational companies. They can, however, create one feedback loop that connects frontline corrections to management decisions.
That feedback loop matters as Nigeria builds a larger AI ecosystem. A country can train more engineers, expand computing capacity, develop local-language models, and encourage entrepreneurship, but adoption succeeds inside businesses one workflow at a time. The practical test is whether a system helps people complete real work with fewer errors, less rework, and clearer accountability.
Nigeria has good reasons to accelerate AI adoption. The strongest businesses will not be those that accumulate the most tools. They will be those that learn fastest from the exceptions those tools create.
Gleb Tsipursky, PhD, is a behavioural scientist, CEO of Disaster Avoidance Experts, and author of The Psychology of AI Adoption at Work: From Resistance to Results (Georgetown University Press, 2026). https://disasteravoidanceexperts.com/[email protected]
Feature/OPED
GLO@23: How Billionaire Otunba Mike Adenuga Built a Telecom Empire That Refuses to Sell Out
By Bodex Hungbo
In a corporate world where corporate giants regularly swap boardrooms like trading cards and sell off equity at the first sign of volatility, one legendary tycoon continues to prove that absolute control is the ultimate power move. That man is Otunba Mike Adenuga Jr., the visionary billionaire whose dense belief in indigenous enterprise gave birth to Globacom, the telecom powerhouse affectionately known across the continent as Glo.
As Globacom marks a monumental 23-year milestone, the spotlight shines brightly not only on the company’s extraordinary ascent, but on the enduring legacy of its founder. Adenuga stands as the only Nigerian to establish, nurture, and retain 100% sole ownership of a national telecommunications network; one that has evolved into one of Africa’s most recognisable, resilient, and influential brands.
While rival networks scrambled through endless corporate restructuring, foreign buyouts, hostile takeovers, and high-stakes rebrandings, “The Bull” pulled off what many in international finance considered impossible: holding complete control of Nigeria’s proudest homegrown tech giant for over two decades without surrendering a single inch of authority.
From the very beginning, Adenuga refused to follow the standard playbook written by foreign multinationals. When Globacom officially launched in August 2003, the market was heavily dominated by well-funded international operators who insisted that certain consumer-friendly models were economically impossible in Africa. Sceptics openly declared that a wholly indigenous, single-owner startup could never go toe-to-toe with established global giants.
Adenuga didn’t just compete; he single-handedly revolutionised the entire landscape.
At a time when competitors claimed that charging consumers per second rather than per minute was technically unfeasible, Glo introduced per-second billing on day one. By charging 1 kobo per second, Globacom shattered the status quo overnight, forcing the entire telecom industry to follow suit. That single disruptive move democratised mobile access, saved everyday Nigerians billions of Naira, and transformed mobile phones from luxury items for the elite into essential tools for the masses.
Adenuga’s commitment to self-reliance went far beyond marketing strategies; it was backed by monumental capital investments in hard infrastructure. To ensure that Glo would never be beholden to external actors, he funded game-changing projects directly from his own vision and capital.
Chief among these milestones was the construction of Glo-1, a multi-million-dollar, high-capacity submarine fibre-optic cable stretching over 9,800 kilometres directly from the United Kingdom to Nigeria. Single-handedly funded without taking a single dollar in foreign equity, Glo-1 provided West Africa with unprecedented broadband capacity, drastically improving internet speeds, powering corporate enterprises, and anchoring the region’s digital economy.
Alongside this undersea marvel, Globacom built an extensive terrestrial fibre-optic backbone across Nigeria, expanding coverage into underserved rural communities and providing the critical pipeline for modern data services, mobile banking, and digital commerce.
The fierce independence that defines Globacom is a direct reflection of its founder’s personal journey. Adenuga’s rise is the ultimate story of relentless African grit. Long before he was dubbed “The Bull” of African commerce, a young Adenuga drove taxis and worked security jobs in the United States to pay his way through university.
Returning to Nigeria with a sharp mind and an insatiable work ethic, he built his fortune brick by brick. He conquered hard commodities, established a presence in oil and gas with Conoil, mastered corporate banking, and ultimately turned his sight toward telecommunications. Every venture was driven by the same philosophy: absolute dedication, hands-on execution, and a fierce refusal to settle for second best.
Despite commanding a multi-billion-dollar fortune, Adenuga remains famously reclusive. Operating largely away from public cameras and party circuits, he chooses to let his work speak for him. His quiet philanthropy, strategic investments, and relentless job creation have lifted thousands of families and injected vital energy into the broader West African economy.
Beyond cell towers and fibre-optic lines, Globacom transformed itself into an iconic symbol of African pride. Recognising the power of local culture long before global streaming platforms arrived, Adenuga turned Glo into the largest single corporate promoter of African entertainment and sports.
Glo flooded the creative industry with record-breaking sponsorship deals and endorsements, signing Nollywood legends, musical powerhouses, and sports heroes as brand ambassadors. From sponsoring the prestigious CAF African Footballer of the Year Awards and the Nigerian Premier League to funding cultural festivals, comedy tours, and reality shows, Glo actively elevated African talent to global prominence.
Through these cultural investments, the brand cultivated an emotional connection with millions of subscribers, proving that an African brand could stand tall, celebrate its heritage, and deliver world-class service without losing its soul.
Industry analysts frequently cite Globacom as more than just a corporate success; it is an enduring case study in what happens when visionary local leadership is matched with long-term capital and solid determination. Over 23 years, Glo has weathered fierce market competition, rapid technological transitions from 2G to 5G, and volatile macroeconomic shifts, all while maintaining its position at the top tier of African telecommunications.
As customers, industry leaders, and well-wishers celebrate GLO@23, the milestone serves as a powerful tribute to a titan who dared to build on his own terms.
Today, Globacom isn’t merely a telecom network; it stands as living proof of African capability, self-determination, and industrial excellence. As the green network prepares for its next era of digital expansion, artificial intelligence integration, and next-generation connectivity, one truth remains crystal clear across Africa’s business landscape: The Bull is still on the throne, and his legacy is built to last.
