SIR: In Nigeria today, being an entrepreneur is both a blessing and a burden. It is a blessing because the country is filled with opportunities, vast untapped potential, and a youthful population eager for change.

But it is also a burden because the same country that should protect and nurture its entrepreneurs often subjects them to needless suspicion, politicisation, and vilification.

This paradox is at the heart of the current conversation around Sijibomi Ogundele, better known as Sujimoto, the CEO of Sujimoto Group. A man celebrated for redefining luxury real estate in Nigeria, Sujimoto is now being dragged into allegations of fraud in a contract awarded by the Enugu State Government. Those who know him, his work, and his sterling track record, however, will argue that nothing could be further from the truth.

Let us start with the facts. Sujimoto was awarded a ₦5.7 billion contract in Enugu State. Of this amount, ₦5.2 billion has already been paid, disbursed in five tranches. While the initial concept was to build what could have been the tallest building in Enugu, the scope later shifted to the construction of schools across the state, a noble and socially impactful project.

Rather than walk away, Sujimoto embraced the challenge. He mobilised men and materials across no fewer than 22 project sites in Enugu. His workforce, over 60 staff members, has been working day and night under extremely harsh conditions battling rugged terrains, cost overruns, community demands, and volatile market realities.

To date, the company has invested over ₦4 billion into the project, despite the contract sum making no provision for inflation or variation. How then can anyone, in good faith, claim that this is fraud?

To understand Sujimoto’s predicament is to understand Nigeria’s economy. When the contract was signed, the naira was already struggling, but few could have predicted the magnitude of its freefall in the last two years. Construction costs have skyrocketed. Cement, rods, roofing materials, and even labour costs have more than doubled. Yet, the contract remained fixed: no allowance for inflation, no room for adjustment.

Despite this suffocating reality, Sujimoto has not abandoned the sites. He has visited Enugu repeatedly not as a distant CEO issuing directives from a plush Lagos office, but as an engineer, foreman, and supervisor, engaging directly with communities, workers, and stakeholders. The man has been seen on the ground, wearing boots, walking sites, and driving the work himself. That is not the behaviour of a fraudster.

That is the character of a builder. It has now been reported that the matter has attracted the attention of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC). Sujimoto himself has confirmed that he is scheduled to meet with the Commission. But his tone is telling: calm, transparent, and ready to cooperate. “The EFCC has all my accounts. I will meet them this week. I am not running; I am facing this head-on,” he declared.

Such confidence comes only from innocence. A fraudster would be evasive, slippery, and hard to pin down. Sujimoto is none of those. Instead, he seems eager to prove that his integrity is intact and that his only crime is daring to dream big in a country that too often punishes big dreamers.

One of the saddest realities about Nigeria is how it treats its brightest minds. We speak endlessly about entrepreneurship, innovation, and job creation, yet the very individuals who embody these values are often hounded, ridiculed, and abandoned. A colleague in the real estate industry captured this sentiment perfectly in a note of solidarity:

“I am praying for Nigeria that this country will stop killing its own talents. That it will stop crushing its own economy with its own hands. That it will stop destroying the entrepreneurial spirit.”

Those words ring painfully true. For every Sujimoto, there are dozens of other Nigerian entrepreneurs quietly suffering under the weight of hostile policies, unpredictable economies, and unnecessary political witch-hunts.

Sijibomi is not a fraud. He is a man who has built a reputation on redefining luxury living in Nigeria. His projects in Lagos are testimonies to innovation, daring vision, and relentless execution. In Enugu, he has not failed; he has only been confronted with the harsh realities of working in a country where contracts rarely reflect inflation, where government expectations often shift mid-project, and where political will can turn to scapegoating overnight.

If anything, the Enugu contract should be a rallying point for support, not suspicion. Here is a man spending billions of his own resources to deliver schools for children, despite the odds stacked against him. Here is a man choosing to stay on the ground rather than walk away. Here is a man who, even in the storm, continues to build.

Nigeria cannot keep stifling its entrepreneurs and expect progress. If we are serious about development, we must create an environment where people like Sujimoto are encouraged, supported, and celebrated. Fraud should be punished, yes. But ambition, resilience, and investment in people must never be mistaken for crime.

Sujimoto’s story is a test for all of us: do we want to continue destroying our best minds, or will we finally learn to support them? Time will tell, but one thing is clear Sujimoto is not a fraud. He is a builder, and he deserves to be treated as one.
Randle J. Komolafe is a public affairs analyst based in Lagos.