Few Nigerians can boast of a career as diverse and impactful as that of Chief Lawson Omokhodion, the Akoamen of Ekpoma and a Knight of St. Mulumba, whose professional journey has straddled journalism, banking, oil and gas, consulting, academia, and philanthropy. Starting out in the newsroom as Business Editor at Newswatch and later Executive Editor, Head of Business/Economy at THISWEEK magazine (the forerunner of THISDAY), he sharpened the analytical and communication skills that would later serve him in corporate boardrooms. By the late 1980s, he had transitioned into finance, first as Research and Corporate Finance Manager at AVC Fund Ltd and then as Assistant General Manager, Lagos & Northern Operations at Pan African Bank Ltd. His banking career accelerated further when he became Executive Director at Allstates Trust Bank Plc, and later Managing Director/CEO of Liberty Bank Plc, where he built a reputation for discipline, vision, and resilience. Beyond banking, he held senior corporate roles, including Executive Director (Group Sales) at Conoil Plc. He later served as Chairman/CEO of Ritsoil Petroleum and Gas Limited until his retirement in 2022. Omokhodion also contributed to policy and education, serving as Adviser at the African Development Bank and as Pro-Chancellor/Chairman of Ambrose Alli University, Ekpoma. Today, he chairs the Board of Trustees of the Lawson & Funmilayo Omokhodion Foundation, dedicated to poverty alleviation. In this conversation, with Sunday Ehigiator, he reflects on balancing professional demands with family life, the leadership lessons that shaped him, and his candid views on Nigeria’s banking reforms, economy, among others
After more than four decades in banking, journalism and consulting, how do you balance professional demands and family life?
Professional demands must be met before retirement and after retirement, you step back. Right now, I’m retired and content enough to just live on. I just watch and see how things unfold. But before now, it was tough, as you know. Young people have energy and time, so they keep struggling. Young people have dreams. So, I had all those opportunities in front of me to confront challenges, take advantage of opportunities they made available, and live to survive.
How did your family influence your leadership style and outlook on life?
Family? My parents, spouse, children, grandchildren, and relatives, right? When you are a bachelor, you are getting ready to face the future. Those are typical free days and free time. But once you get married and start having children, things change. Responsibilities confront you. Many of us had to take care not only of our nuclear families but also of our extended families. We all grew up as responsible young men and women. With family in front of you, with children in front of you, you have no choice but to be disciplined, fast, pray for them and to think about them constantly. That sense of responsibility changes your priorities and shapes how you lead, because you are no longer living only for yourself.
What are the biggest leadership lessons you learnt as Managing Director of Liberty Bank?
I will say patience. If you are not patient, you can’t overcome. If you are patient, you listen. If you are patient, you can persevere. If you are patient, you have empathy; you put yourself in the place of another. Those are the kinds of challenges that face you in life, and patience helps you handle them. Once you are patient, you can pray. God has given you the education; God has given you the opportunity, so you need to put them to use. I found patience to be extremely useful in overcoming professional challenges, family challenges, and relationship challenges, wherever they may be, even with your friends. If you are patient, you are able to forgive. If you are patient, you are able to understand. If you are patient, you seldom get angry, because you allow the other party to resolve in their own mind the contradictions they have. You are patient with that process. Patience is the bedrock of leadership for me.
Outside the boardroom, what forms of recreation and hobbies do you enjoy, and how important is downtime for leaders?
Even when I was much younger and very busy, I still made time for tennis. You must be able to let go of your mind. You must find avenues for recreation. You must find time to laugh and to talk about things that are not directly related to work. I always met colleagues playing tennis or table tennis; many had more time, and some played golf. Golf is very time-consuming, but it’s important. Recreation makes you, first, a stronger person; second, it allows you to unwind. It gives you a picture of the other side of life. Those things are very important. If you lock yourself up 24 hours a day, bring work home and return to the office the next day without pause, you are courting disaster. It’s important to be healthy. When you exercise and have access to recreational facilities, you avoid certain illnesses; your body and mind recover because you are not sedentary and not bound to your desk. That contributes to the good health of an executive and makes him or her more acceptable to the outside world. You are not closed off; you don’t carry a chip on your shoulder; you relate with people. And that is what recreation is for.
In your view, how should today’s banks balance profit-making with national development goals?
The banks today have become megastars. There is intense competition in the industry. Every bank wants to be ahead, to occupy a leadership position, and to satisfy its shareholders. But let me be very clear: it is not the duty of a bank to balance profit-making with national aspirations. That responsibility lies with the regulators. It is the duty of regulators to ensure that the activities of any bank are aligned with national development goals. If a regulator is unable to achieve that alignment, then a bank will simply operate to satisfy its shareholders, its staff, and its principal owners. Maybe, if the customers are lucky, they will also be considered. But the main responsibility for ensuring that banking serves national goals rests squarely with regulators, not the banks themselves. That has always been my belief.
What is your take on the ongoing banking recapitalisation exercise?
I have always found the attempt to decree recapitalisation somewhat arbitrary. The 2004–2005 exercise in the banking industry did not go down very well, in my opinion, because it failed to segment the industry. Not every bank then needed N25 billion to do what it was doing at the time. If you compared that requirement to the capital of banks in Europe and America, then it was minuscule. Now we have categories: N500 billion for international banks, N200 billion for national banks, and N50 billion for regional banks. Some banks already have capital of over N1 trillion. The so-called “big boys” have distinguished themselves. But I honestly do not know what all that capital is needed for in this economic environment. The Nigerian economy today does not require that level of capital. The sectors we rely on, oil and gas, trade, and manufacturing, are not yet large enough to absorb or justify such capital thresholds. I fear that this kind of arbitrary recapitalisation can create distortions rather than strengthen the system.
The government has set a target of achieving a $1 trillion economy by 2030. How realistic is this ambition?
Achieving a $1 trillion economy by 2030 is a solid ambition. It is good to have targets that stretch us. It gives us something to look forward to. But such an ambition requires more than slogans; it requires options, enthusiasm, energy, and strategy. And right now, our economy is fledgling. The size of the economy today is much smaller than what such an ambition demands. We need stronger sectors, deeper reforms, and a collective national effort to expand production, attract investment, and improve infrastructure. Maybe as we move forward, the energies and options will become available. But at this moment, the economy is weak, and getting to $1 trillion will require a monumental push.
As a former Pro-Chancellor of Ambrose Alli University, what reforms would you like to see in Nigerian universities today to improve the standard of education?
When I served as Pro-Chancellor, one of the first things we did was to understand the true state of the university. We carried out what I call a due diligence exercise. We brought in consultants to assess the system because the university had been without a governing council for about two years. In that vacuum, the Vice-Chancellor was both VC and Chairman of Council, which is not how a university should function. From that exercise, it became clear to me that for a Nigerian university to move forward, it must stand firmly on three basic legs: First is law and order: Without law and order, you breed despots; despots as Vice-Chancellors, despots as Heads of Departments, and despots among staff. A university without order becomes a jungle. Next is physical facilities: A university must invest in its infrastructure. Government, businesses, and philanthropists should be encouraged to provide and sustain these facilities. Without an environment conducive to learning, there can be no real progress. Lastly, I’ll say academic excellence. Above all, a university must pursue academic excellence. Teachers must teach, and students must learn. It may sound obvious, but in Nigeria, there are universities where lecturers don’t even bother to teach. In my time as Pro-Chancellor, I insisted that rules and discipline mattered. Contracts had to be open, transparent, and above board. Council decisions were not rubber stamps; I read every document carefully. Unfortunately, many Nigerian universities are run by councils filled with politicians who see the place as a money-making venture. That is wrong. When Pro-Chancellors and Vice-Chancellors treat universities as cash cows, they mortgage the institution. Universities must be governed with integrity, following statutes and laws, not personal whims.
How can we bridge the gap between the gown and the town so that we can have more employable graduates?
Certainly, but we must first admit that not every institution calling itself a university in Nigeria is truly functioning as one. We now have a mix of federal, state, and private universities. While some are solid, others exist only in name. A university is not just buildings; it must have lecturers who actually teach, students who are taught, and management that enforces standards. There are old universities with history and depth: Ibadan, Lagos, Nsukka, Benin, Jos, Maiduguri, Calabar. These remain relatively strong. But new universities are being approved every year, even while others are struggling with inadequate student numbers and poor facilities. That is not sustainable. When I chaired the Council at Ambrose Alli University, I saw firsthand that when law and order are enforced, when ASUU operates within a framework of discipline, and when lecturers are held accountable, the system works. Students understood the need to learn; lecturers knew they were being monitored to ensure delivery; and non-academic staff knew their welfare was considered. If more universities adopt that model, one of accountability, discipline, and focus on academic quality, we will narrow the gap between academia and the labour market. Graduates will become more employable because they will have been properly taught and rigorously trained.
Given your experience in business, banking, and education, what practical strategies do you believe Nigeria should adopt to create sustainable jobs for its youth population?
People often say there are two sectors in Nigeria, the private sector and the public sector. But our Constitution, in Chapter 2, Sections 14 and 16, makes it clear that both the public and private sectors should jointly drive production and services in this country. The tragedy is that Nigeria has effectively surrendered its economy to the private sector. The public sector has been killed. This began in 1986 when we embraced structural reforms under the IMF. One of the conditions was that public enterprises had to be privatised. What did privatisation do? It transferred national assets into the hands of a few: generals, top civil servants, and favoured businessmen. These people stripped assets, sold machinery as scrap, pocketed the money, and walked away. Between 1986 and 2020, close to N1 trillion was realised by the Bureau of Public Enterprises (BPE). Where is that money today? Spent recklessly, embezzled, and what about the jobs? They all disappeared. Hundreds of enterprises, both federal and state-owned, were sold off. Every time you sell a public enterprise, you are selling jobs. The argument then was that public enterprises were inefficient and wasteful. Yes, some managers were corrupt. But corruption exists in the private sector too. Companies collapse in the private sector, just as they do in the public sector. In mature economies, when a company is struggling, it is recapitalised, restructured, and reformed; not casually dismantled.
Look at history. For over 500 years, from the Industrial Revolution until the 1980s, Britain relied on public enterprises to grow its economy. France did the same. Today, China, Malaysia, and Russia still use state enterprises as engines of growth. Why should Nigeria be different? For me, the option is clear: we must rethink our hostility to public enterprises. We need to return to a model that blends public-private partnerships (PPPs) and joint ventures. Take the Nigeria LNG company as an example. It is structured as a partnership; NNPC owns 49 per cent, while private sector partners like Shell, TotalEnergies, and Eni hold the rest. That structure works because it balances public interest with private efficiency. We can replicate that model across industries. Suppose the government wants to build a pharmaceutical plant, or a textile mill, or a fruit-processing company. It can invite investors, local, diaspora, or international, to hold majority stakes, while the government keeps a minority share. The presence of the government provides stability and confidence, while the private sector drives efficiency. After 10 or 15 years, the government can even sell its stake and move on to other projects.
At the state level, opportunities abound: metallurgical industries, plastics, textiles, agriculture, and food processing. State governments can partner with diaspora Nigerians who have capital and expertise, or with established Nigerian businesses, to set up industries that create jobs.
What do we have today instead? Governors collect security votes, enrich themselves, and declare that “government has no business in business.” That is why corruption is so rampant. They do not know what to do with resources. They have been told to stay away from enterprise, so they simply spend on consumption.
We need the National Economic Council to sit down, adopt this PPP model, and make it a national policy. Because the crisis is real. Over 50,000 graduates enter the labour market every year. Yet unemployment statistics are manipulated to show “4 per cent unemployment”, which is laughable. In reality, youth unemployment and underemployment are massive, probably closer to 50 per cent.
Without jobs, there can be no stability. Without productive engagement, our young people will continue to face poverty, exclusion, and frustration. The only way to reverse this is to bring the public sector back into productive enterprise, not as a dominant player, but as a strategic partner with private investors. That is how you create sustainable jobs in Nigeria.
What is your assessment of President Bola Tinubu’s economic reform agenda?
For me, the contrast with the Muhammadu Buhari years is very clear. During Buhari’s eight years, we really didn’t have a president in the true sense. We had a man who sat like an emperor, detached, not fully understanding his left from his right, while the people who worked for him ran things as they liked. Now, we have a president who is engaged, who thinks. President Tinubu has undertaken three bold reform measures: the removal of subsidies, the devaluation of the currency, and tax reforms. On paper, these are fantastic moves. They show seriousness. But there was one mistake: the deep devaluation of the naira. That single step has had the most devastating impact on the economy. It is what has driven up costs everywhere. Think of it: a car that sold for N50 million five years ago now costs N250 million. Why? Because of that devaluation. The government should have allowed a guided market system, not a free fall. On May 29, 2023, when Tinubu assumed office, the official exchange rate was N460 to the dollar, the black market was about N750. All we needed was a gradual adjustment; N460 to N500, N500 to N525, and so on. The black market would have corrected itself gradually, too. But what we had instead was a plunge, an abrupt devaluation. Today, the rate went as high as N1,700 to the dollar before moderating to around N1,500.
Businesses may be happy because certainty allows them to plan. But ordinary Nigerians are not happy. Employers are still paying N100,000 or N150,000 salaries to young graduates. Out of that, how do you pay for transport, housing, food, and clothing when prices have skyrocketed? Tomatoes, yams, and plantains have all become luxury items. So, while I commend the courage of the reforms, I insist that the currency devaluation was too deep, too abrupt, and too painful for the people. If the government can gradually strengthen the naira, say, bring it down to N1,300 or N1,200 in the near future, then recovery will be possible. Otherwise, the hardship will persist, and the political risks will grow as elections approach.
Looking globally, you’ve seen Donald Trump’s tariff-driven policies. What should Nigeria and other African countries be doing to guard against such external shocks?
The answer lies in our economy. This country has all the natural resources it needs to be great. The key is local production and value addition. We must revive the old commodity boards. In agriculture, those boards helped to stabilise prices, support farmers, and drive exports. We used to have cocoa boards, rubber boards, palm produce boards, groundnut boards, and cotton boards. These institutions were not just marketing agencies; they funded research, improved yields, and ensured Nigeria had a structured export system. It may not work exactly as it did in the past, but we can create modern commodity boards with participation from the private sector, producers, and government representatives. For instance, a cocoa board today should not just export raw cocoa; it should encourage and facilitate local chocolate production. Chocolate carries far greater value than raw beans, and it can be sold within Nigeria, across West Africa, and even globally if the quality is high enough. The same applies to rubber. We lost Michelin and Dunlop, but Nigeria still produces latex. Why can’t we have tyre manufacturing companies again? With palm produce, the opportunities are even bigger; palm oil is used in food, cosmetics, pharmaceuticals, and biofuels. We should not only export crude palm oil; we should be refining and processing it locally. Textiles are another case. Cotton is the main raw material, and Nigeria produces it. Yet our textile factories are dead. If we revive them, we revive jobs. The principle is simple: don’t export raw materials, export finished products. That way, we retain value, create employment, and reduce vulnerability to foreign tariffs. Look also at mining. Nigeria is richly endowed with gold, lithium, and other minerals. Instead of shipping raw iron ore abroad, we must refine and process locally. For example, lithium is in high demand for batteries worldwide. If we process lithium here, we don’t just export rocks; we export value-added materials that command better prices. Now consider livestock. Nigeria’s cattle industry is estimated at over $15 billion annually. Yet we are still moving cows on foot from Sokoto to Port Harcourt, or from Maiduguri to Lagos. This is archaic. We need ranches. For eight years under Buhari, not one experimental ranch was established. A Ministry of Livestock has been created, but what has it done? Nothing. We need to build pilot ranches and show herders the benefits. Ranching increases productivity, improves meat and milk quality, and reduces conflicts between farmers and herders. If the government partners with serious investors, Dangote, BUA, and regional businessmen, ranching can become a multi-billion-dollar modern industry. Brazil and Argentina have done it. Why not Nigeria? The same principle applies to aviation. Nigeria should not be limited to one national carrier. Countries like India and China have multiple carriers. The government should create an enabling environment for private and joint-venture airlines to thrive, not sabotage them. All of this comes down to one thing: patriotism and vision. I grew up in an era when young Nigerians who studied abroad were eager to return home because they believed in the country. Today, that sense of patriotism has eroded. But if we build industries, create jobs, and restore dignity, Nigerians at home and abroad will once again see a future here. That is how we shield ourselves from external shocks like tariffs, protect our economy, and build sustainable prosperity.
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