Land · South · Laban's House
The early days of Sahara Group, now a major player in Africa’s energy sector, began with a hidden story. When Tonye Cole and his partners started the company in their twenties, they chose not to use their own names. Instead, they registered the business in the Isle of Man and created 'Dr. J,' a made-up British figurehead who appeared to be in charge. For three years, the real founders acted as if they worked for someone who didn’t exist. They took this approach because the industry, shaped by international oil companies and a deep-rooted colonial mindset, doubted that young Nigerians could be capable leaders. To get a seat at the table, they had to put on a foreign front. This mask was more of a necessary procedure than a deception, and identity became their ticket in.
Years later, a viral video showed Mr Tony Elumelu, chairman of Heirs Holdings and UBA, correcting a young trainee who called him by his first name. Mr Elumelu, in a polite but firm way, rejected this attempt at Western-style workplace equality, saying he does not follow 'Oyinbo life.' The moment sparked a national conversation about hierarchy, but the issue goes beyond simple manners. While the Sahara founders used a foreign identity to enter the market, that same foreign influence was criticized when the trainee addressed Mr Tony by his first name.
These two stories, though years apart, show the same pattern: recognition comes at a cost when there is little trust in institutions. In a healthy economy, the government gives legitimacy through laws, and education provides credentials. When these systems are weak, identity becomes the main way to gain acceptance, but it is valued differently. The Sahara founders had to hide their real identities, which were seen as less valuable than a foreign one. They gained entry by making themselves invisible. On the other hand, Elumelu, now in charge of his own business, expects a higher level of respect for his identity. He asks others to follow certain customs to keep his authority strong, which makes sense in Nigeria’s relationship-driven culture.
This kind of situation is not only found in Nigeria, though the post-colonial context there is unique. In the late 1800s, Japanese companies during the Meiji Restoration often used Western-style organization and dress to show European partners they were 'civilized,' even while keeping their own strict, traditional loyalty systems. In a similar way, Jewish financiers in 19th-century Europe often worked through 'Court Jews' to get around laws that stopped them from owning businesses directly. In both examples, the mask was a practical tool, helping people navigate systems they did not control.
The sad part of the Sahara story is not the act of hiding, but the fact that it was needed. It shows a work environment where talented people have to work within a system designed by others. When a founder feels forced to register a company abroad, not for tax reasons but to appear 'respectable,' it means the local business system is failing. It shows that only a foreign label makes their skills visible to the world.
But Elumelu’s response shows what happens when those founders make it to the top. Once outsiders become insiders, they drop the foreign mask and adopt a local hierarchy, which can be even stricter. The 'Oyinbo life' that helped them succeed in business is now seen as a threat to the office culture. This puts the next generation in a tough spot. They are encouraged to be global and creative to succeed in the market, but must still show traditional respect to keep their jobs.
This conflict happens because our legal, credential, and accreditation systems still do not offer a fair way to recognize people’s identities.
If a procurement officer could trust a clear, reliable record of people’s skills and a legal system that punished unfair treatment, there would have been no need for the 'Dr. J' disguise. If professional status depended on proven ability instead of a boss’s approval, calling a chairman by their first name would just be a matter of preference, not a question of authority.
Until legitimacy is based on institutions instead of personal connections, Nigerian professionals will keep living double lives. They will keep using a foreign identity to win contracts, then rely on traditional authority to manage their teams. Wearing a mask is not optional; it is simply part of doing business where identity matters more than ability. Building a modern economy is not just about making money, but about creating a system where names do not carry extra weight and skills speak for themselves.
Segun Jerome
Segun Jerome is the founder of Dadalowa, an education technology company operating in Canada. He also writes about Identity, Education and civilization development.