The governor's hint about the airline refused to fade from Chinedu's thoughts. It was like a quiet pulse in the background of his daily business—there but never demanding too much attention, until a certain phone call made it beat louder.
It came from the governor's secretary.
"Sir, that airline you were told about—there's movement. A buyer is circling, but no official bid yet. If you're serious, this might be the time to show interest."
Chinedu thanked him, knowing the man would expect his usual "gratitude fee" in cash and farm produce. But before he could even map out a response, Ireti walked into his office without knocking—a sign she had news.
"There's a problem," she said simply.
Chinedu gestured for her to sit. "Go on.
"It's wastage. Too much of it. We've been losing vegetables, fruits, even cassava flour in storage. The transportation delays make it worse. I've run the numbers—this is costing us millions every quarter."
Chinedu frowned, tapping the desk with his fingers. "And it's avoidable?"
"Completely. We just don't have enough processing capacity. We sell fresh, but what about when we can't move everything in time? We should be canning, freezing, turning excess into shelf-stable goods."
The thought settled in his mind with weight and clarity. He had been chasing expansion in land and fleet, but here was a glaring inefficiency right under his nose.
"Imperial Processing," he said aloud. "We'll make it a separate arm. Anything the farms can't sell fresh, we process and package—no more losses."
Ireti nodded. "That's the idea. But we'd need equipment, and it won't be cheap."
"I'll source second-hand machinery from China," Chinedu said quickly, his mind already moving to logistics. "Cheaper, functional, and we can scale as we go. I'll get Tunde to look into shipping options."
He could already envision the supply chain—Imperial Farms feeding Imperial Processing, which would feed Imperial Retail and, potentially, new export channels. Nothing would go to waste.
The next week, while Ireti worked on facility layouts and Tunde began contacting import agents, the airline lead picked up steam. A broker in Lagos called to confirm the rumors: a mid-sized domestic airline, three Boeing 737s, all Nigerian routes. Financially stressed but operational.
The temptation was sharp—air cargo could link Imperial Farms and Processing to markets nationwide, bypassing road bottlenecks entirely. It could also put him in a completely new sector with strategic reach.
Meanwhile, the media frenzy over the healthcare contract hadn't died down. A business journal ran a cover story titled:
The Obasi Empire: From Farm Rows to Power Rows
Inside, analysts argued over how much his holdings were worth, some calling him "Nigeria's youngest agricultural magnate." Social media buzzed with curiosity: Was he backed by hidden political patrons? Was he about to step into oil or aviation?
Chinedu said nothing publicly. He simply worked. Every headline, every rumor was another layer of camouflage over his real plans. And those plans, as of now, involved not just farms, fleets, and retail—but factories and maybe, just maybe, an airline with Imperial painted across its fuselage.