Let’s get one thing straight before we dive into this explosive truth bomb—I’m not here to sugarcoat anything. If you’re reading this, it means you’ve got a brain, and I expect you to use it. So buckle up because what I’m about to say might make some people uncomfortable, but that’s the point. Comfort is for cowards.

Today, we’re talking about Tosin Eniolorunda—the man behind Moniepoint, the fintech unicorn worth over $1 billion—and how his story exposes a glaring flaw in our culture as Igbos. A flaw so deep, so systemic, that it’s choking the life out of innovation in the southeast while Lagos thrives on the dreams of visionaries like Tosin.

But let me break it down step by step so even your aunty selling akara at the corner can understand why this matters.

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### **Tosin’s Rise from Zero to Hero**
Back in 2017, Tosin wasn’t the tech tycoon you see today. He was just another hustler running a software consulting company called Team Apt. His team built apps for banks—Sterling Bank and Unity Bank, to be exact. Life was good until Sterling Bank dropped a bombshell email saying they no longer needed his services.

Imagine driving through Ikoyi Road, minding your business, when an email hits your inbox that feels like a dagger to the chest. That’s exactly what happened to Tosin. Losing Sterling Bank wasn’t just bad news; it was catastrophic. It meant cash flow problems, layoffs, and possibly the death of his dream. But instead of folding under pressure, Tosin did something extraordinary—he reinvented himself.

Out of that setback came **Moniepoint**, a fintech platform designed to revolutionize banking for small businesses in Nigeria. But here’s the kicker: Moniepoint almost didn’t happen. Why? Because building a unicorn doesn’t come cheap, and Tosin needed someone with both money *and* vision to believe in him.

Enter **Olu Oyinsan**, the man who saw potential where others saw risk. In 2019, Olu invested $150,000 in Moniepoint for a 1.2% stake. Fast forward five years later, that investment is now worth more than **$10 million**. Yes, you read that right. TEN. MILLION. DOLLARS.

And guess what? Last month, Olu partially exited his investment, walking away with $8 million. Eight. Million. Dollars. All because he had the guts to back a young man with a big idea.

Now ask yourself: Where would Tosin be if he were born and raised in Onitsha or Aba? Would he have found an Igbo Odogwu willing to invest $150,000 in his dream? Or would he still be stuck pitching his ideas to uncles who only care about funding weddings and lavish burials?

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### **The Curse of Frivolity in Igbo Culture**
Here’s the harsh reality: Our people are broke—not financially (because trust me, there’s plenty of wealth floating around)—but mentally. We’ve become a society obsessed with vanity projects while ignoring the substance that truly builds generational wealth.

Think about it:
– When someone dies, we throw parties disguised as funerals, spending billions on caskets imported from China and feeding thousands of strangers who won’t remember the deceased two weeks later.
– Weddings? Same story. Committees of friends raise hundreds of millions to celebrate love, yet none of those funds go toward creating opportunities for the next generation.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m all for celebrating milestones. But when we prioritize frivolities over futures, we stunt our growth as a people. And don’t sit there acting like this isn’t true. You know damn well that if Tosin were pitching Moniepoint to a group of Igbo businessmen, they’d laugh him out of the room faster than you can say “aso ebi.”

Instead, they’d rather fund Zenco’s mother’s burial or donate millions to their pastor’s new private jet. Meanwhile, the southeast continues to decay, talent flees to Lagos, and our brightest minds are left wondering if staying home was the right decision.

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### **Why Lagos Wins and the East Loses**
Lagos isn’t magical. It’s not sitting on oil reserves or blessed with fertile land. What makes Lagos thrive is its ecosystem—a place where visionaries like Tosin can find investors like Olu Oyinsan. People who understand that investing in startups isn’t gambling; it’s planting seeds that grow into trees bearing fruit for decades.

Contrast that with the southeast, where the average Igbo Odogwu thinks success is measured by the size of your funeral crowd or the number of cars parked outside your village during Christmas. These men (and women) have the resources to transform their communities, but they choose to waste them on nonsense.

And it’s not just about individuals—it’s cultural. We glorify consumption over creation. We reward showmanship over substance. And as long as this mindset persists, the southeast will remain stagnant while Lagos eats the future.

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### **A Wake-Up Call for My People**
Listen up, my brothers and sisters. This isn’t about hating on Lagos or envying their success. This is about accountability. As Igbos, we pride ourselves on being sharp, resourceful, and entrepreneurial. Yet, when it comes to supporting our own, we fail miserably.

If you’re reading this and you’re part of the problem—stop. Stop funding frivolities and start funding futures. Invest in startups. Mentor young entrepreneurs. Build ecosystems that allow creativity to flourish. Do something meaningful with your money instead of blowing it on things that add zero value to society.

To the young Tosins living in the southeast right now—don’t give up. Keep pushing. Your time will come. But also recognize that sometimes, you may need to leave the comfort of home to find opportunity elsewhere. Lagos isn’t perfect, but it rewards hustle and ambition in ways the east simply doesn’t.

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### **Final Thoughts: The Choice Is Yours**
The story of Tosin Eniolorunda and Moniepoint isn’t just inspiring—it’s a blueprint for what’s possible when talent meets opportunity. But it’s also a mirror reflecting our failures as a people. Until we change our priorities and start valuing substance over spectacle, we’ll keep losing our best minds to cities that appreciate them more than we do.

So, I leave you with this question: What kind of legacy do you want to leave behind? Will you be remembered as the uncle who spent millions on a flashy funeral? Or as the visionary who helped build the next billion-dollar company?

The choice is yours. Choose wisely.

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**P.S.** Share this article with every Igbo person you know. Let’s spark a conversation that leads to action. Enough talk. It’s time to rebuild.

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