Why Economic Nationalism Should Not Become Xenophobia

Nseobong Okon-Ekong argues that companies should be assessed based on their contributions to the nation

There is a growing trend in Nigeria’s public discourse that deserves scrutiny. Whenever a company becomes successful, expands rapidly, or secures a significant share of the market, a section of commentators often rushes to frame the conversation around ownership, asking whether the company is truly Nigerian or foreign.

At first glance, such concerns may appear patriotic. On closer examination, however, many of these arguments are lazy, simplistic, and sometimes dangerously xenophobic.

Ironically, they mirror the same narrow-minded reasoning that Nigerians frequently condemn when directed against them in other African countries like Ghana and South Africa.

Across Africa, Nigerians have built some of the continent’s most successful businesses. Nigerian banks like Access and Zenith, telecommunications firms, fintech companies, and professional service providers have expanded into dozens of African countries, taking significant shares of local markets.

Take Access Bank. What began as a Nigerian institution has grown into one of Africa’s most expansive banking groups, with operations stretching from South Africa to East Africa and beyond. Should citizens of those countries turn around and argue that Nigerian-owned companies are taking too much from their economies? Should they demand that successful Nigerian businesses be punished simply because their founders originated elsewhere? Then there is the immensely rapid growth of the business footprints of mogul, Aliko Dangote across the continent.

Most Nigerians would reject such reasoning instantly.

Yet some of the same arguments are now being deployed at home.

Consider some of the business families that have become part of Nigeria’s economic story. How many decades must a family live, invest, employ, and pay taxes in Nigeria before they are considered Nigerian?

The Chagoury family, for instance, has been woven into the fabric of Nigeria’s economic development for generations. Through investments such as HiTech Construction, Eko Hotel, and the ambitious Eko Atlantic project, they have committed billions of dollars to Nigeria’s economy.

Can they honestly be dismissed as outsiders?

The same question applies to the Leventis family. How long has Leventis existed in Nigeria? Can a company that has operated in the country for generations still be casually described as merely “Greek-owned”? What about the Boulos family, whose contributions to commerce and industry span decades? What about Bhojsons and Rex Raccah, the businessman and football administrator who owned the rested Raccah Rovers of Kano?

Many of these are second- and third-generation Nigerian families. Their children were born here. Their businesses are headquartered here. Their investments are here. Their taxes are paid here.

The notion that they remain perpetual outsiders ignores both history and reality.

Nigeria itself has travelled this road before.

Some of the country’s most iconic corporations were originally foreign-controlled. Companies such as First Bank, Union Bank, UAC, and Nigerian Breweries all emerged from periods when foreign ownership dominated significant sectors of the economy.

Nigeria’s response was not to demonise successful businesses or launch campaigns against them. Instead, policymakers pursued deliberate indigenisation policies that gradually increased Nigerian participation and ownership.

That was a constructive solution.

Today, Nigerian corporate governance and regulatory frameworks already place significant emphasis on local participation. In many sectors, ownership structures, board composition, and operational requirements ensure substantial Nigerian involvement. Directors, chairpersons, shareholders, executives, employees, suppliers, and service providers are overwhelmingly Nigerian.

The question therefore should not be where a founder’s grandfather came from.

The question should be whether a company obeys Nigerian laws.

Does it pay taxes?

Does it create jobs?

Does it invest locally?

Does it comply with regulatory requirements?

Does it contribute to economic growth?

Those are legitimate questions.

The ongoing attacks against Optasia and Nairtime illustrate why nuance matters.

Rather than celebrate a business that started in Nigeria and expanded its footprint into more than 25 African countries, some critics have chosen to reduce the conversation to ethnicity and ancestry.

The company is led by a second-generation Lebanese-Nigerian entrepreneur. Yet instead of discussing innovation, market expansion, technology investment, employment creation, or export of Nigerian expertise, the debate has become consumed by misleading narratives about foreign ownership.

That misses the point entirely.

If critics believe the company has violated Nigerian laws, they should present evidence and demand accountability. If they believe there are governance concerns, competition issues, tax questions, or regulatory breaches, those matters should be investigated thoroughly.

But criticism should be based on facts, not assumptions.

Similarly, claims of monopoly deserve closer examination. The Optasia relationship with Airtel exists alongside other players in the ecosystem. The airtime credit and value-added services space involves multiple operators, service providers, and stakeholders. Industry advocacy in that sector has long been carried out by groups such as WASPAN and ALTON, not by a single company acting alone.

Facts matter.

The same principle applies to MTN. While MTN originated in South Africa, its Nigerian operation has evolved into a company whose ownership is overwhelmingly Nigerian through public shareholding and local participation. It would be inaccurate to describe MTN Nigeria today simply as a foreign company.

Economic realities are often more complex than political slogans.

The more troubling issue is the possibility that some companies may be selectively targeted by regulators while newer entrants receive favourable treatment. If that is indeed occurring, then the debate should focus on regulatory consistency, due process, investment protection, competition policy, and market fairness.

For instance, questions can legitimately be asked about why operators that invested in technology, infrastructure, personnel, and market development over many years might find themselves excluded from new regulatory frameworks while others are admitted.

Those are serious policy questions deserving public attention.

But they are entirely different from attacking businesses because of the ancestry of their founders.

Nigeria cannot aspire to become a global economic power while simultaneously embracing a narrow definition of who belongs. Successful economies reward investment, innovation, compliance, and value creation. They do not determine economic legitimacy by tracing family trees.

Patriotism should never become prejudice.

The right argument is not whether a company’s founder has Lebanese, Greek, Indian, British, or Nigerian ancestry.

The right argument is whether the company obeys the law, pays its taxes, treats its workers fairly, competes honestly, and contributes meaningfully to Nigeria’s development.

That is the standard that should apply to every company.

Okon-Ekong is a Journalist