…One company’s agony becomes a global indictment of a nation’s institutions…
By Darlington Okpebholo Ray
Truth Live News International | London, 24 June 2025
In 2014, a modestly capitalised but ambitious Nigerian firm, Owigs and Obigs Nigeria Limited, secured an international commodities transaction valued at over $360 million. It was a breakthrough deal meant to bridge African resources with global markets, fuel economic growth, and create thousands of jobs across borders.
Zenith Bank PLC, one of Nigeria’s most recognisable financial institutions, was contracted as the confirming bank. According to documents on record, the bank received confirmation fees but later shockingly refused to confirm the letter of credit, a decision that detonated a chain reaction of collapse and devastation.
What followed was nothing short of economic sabotage. Funds held in trust with Zenith Bank reportedly disappeared without trace. The bank has allegedly offered no satisfactory explanation. What was expected to be a catalyst for international trade and national development degenerated into a crushing legal and moral quagmire.
The consequences were swift and brutal. Shipments stalled, contracts collapsed, partners withdrew, and lives were upended. Owigs and Obigs was left in ruins. Its warehouses emptied, licences expired, and export aspirations turned to ashes.
This was no ordinary commercial hiccup, it was a decimation. A company’s dream died at the hands of a bank that should have been its strongest institutional ally.
For a nation like Nigeria that has spent years trying to woo global investors, this saga is far more than a legal issue, it is a diplomatic and reputational disaster. When investors in London, New York, Berlin or Beijing hear this story, they do not see an isolated bank-client dispute. They see a fragile financial system and a judiciary unwilling or unable to enforce justice swiftly and fairly.
The owners of Owigs and Obigs, left with no confidence in Nigeria’s justice system, turned to the United Kingdom. They petitioned the British Parliament through the Member of Parliament for Greenwich and Woolwich, pleading for intervention. That singular action has had international ripple effects.
The UK financial regulatory agencies have since been alerted. British investors who once saw Nigeria as a promising market are now advised to proceed with extreme caution. The whispers in investment circles have grown louder, “If it can happen to Owigs and Obigs, it can happen to anyone.”
This single unresolved case now hangs like a dark cloud over Nigeria’s global image. Foreign investors do not invest in countries merely because of resources, they invest in systems. Systems that honour contracts. Systems that protect business. Systems that punish wrongdoing, no matter how powerful the offender may be.
“To see what is right and not do it is the want of courage,” said Confucius. What message does it send when a major Nigerian bank can reportedly collect millions of dollars in fees, fail to honour contractual obligations, and escape accountability for over a decade?
This crisis is a mirror reflecting the dysfunction in Nigeria’s legal and financial institutions. It shows how corporations with deep pockets can allegedly manipulate process, delay justice, and exhaust victims into silence.
The international damage is already being felt. In trade seminars and investor forums, Nigeria is being quietly marked as “high risk.” International banks are beginning to reconsider exposure to Nigerian LC transactions. Confidence is withering.
This is not about politics. It is about perception, and perception is everything in global commerce.
Even more damning is the human dimension. This case is not just about money or contracts, it is about human suffering. Dozens of employees lost their jobs. Their families lost incomes. Contractors lost years of effort. Hope gave way to heartbreak.
Every delay in adjudication, every technicality exploited, every adjournment granted not only destroys one company’s chance at justice, it erodes Nigeria’s chance at redemption in the eyes of the world.
Zenith Bank may still hold public goodwill within Nigeria, but internationally, this case is fast becoming a textbook example of institutional arrogance and disregard for ethical business practices.
The bank must realise that its reputation is no longer local. It has international shareholders, partners, clients and observers. The longer it resists resolution, the deeper it digs a hole that no PR campaign can fill.
This is a litmus test for Nigeria, not just for its banks, but for its judiciary, its regulatory bodies, and its moral conscience.
The Nigerian government cannot continue to trumpet the gospel of foreign investment while turning a blind eye to the experiences of those who come bearing capital and contracts.
There must be a decisive effort to bring closure to this matter — not by favouring either party unjustly, but by upholding the sanctity of contract, enforcing accountability, and showing the world that Nigeria is capable of self correction.
Let the courts deliver justice swiftly. Let regulatory agencies hold banks to account. Let Nigeria speak loudly and clearly: we are not a nation that breaks contracts and buries truths.
“Four things belong to a judge: to hear courteously, to answer wisely, to consider soberly and to decide impartially,” declared Socrates. It is time for the judiciary to embody this wisdom.
The integrity of our institutions must be more valuable than the pride of any one corporate entity.
If Nigeria ever hopes to be taken seriously on the global economic stage, it must resolve cases like this decisively and transparently.
The world is watching. And history, as always, will remember.