Harnessing Nigeria’s Service Export Potential: A Case for Empowering Local Talent

Nigeria stands on the precipice of a major economic shift. While traditional focus often centers on physical goods, service export represents a vast, underutilized trade area that our nation must aggressively harness. Digital capabilities allow skilled professionals across Nigeria to deliver high-value, international-standard services globally; without the burden of physical relocation or massive capital investments.

A shining example of this model in action is Steve, the young founder and CEO of Steve-Rich Digital. Based in Enugu, Nigeria, Steve operates a dynamic web development and branding agency that serves a global clientele, including my own projects.

Over the past couple of years of mentoring Steve, I have witnessed firsthand his commitment to delivering fast, modern, mobile-responsive, and secure digital platforms. His work exemplifies how Nigerian ingenuity can seamlessly compete in the global marketplace.

When Steve recently approached me to ask if I would consider helping to promote his business, I did not hesitate for a second. I instantly recognized an obligation and a privilege, to offer this support gratis in the most impactful way possible. In my recent 61st birthday Note to Self, I declared that my focus moving forward is to expand the table so it can accommodate more people, giving our young talent the initial push they need to travel even farther. Supporting Steve is that philosophy in action: opening doors, validating local expertise, and elevating young leaders who are actively shaping Nigeria’s future in the global digital economy.

Why Patronise Young Nigerian Founders?

Unlocking National Service Export Capabilities: Directing business to domestic tech talent builds sustainable digital infrastructure and strengthens Nigeria’s position in global service trade.

Proven Quality & Global Reach: Young leaders like Steve provide world-class web design, corporate branding, and digital solutions tailored for e-commerce, real estate, corporate entities, NGOs, and educational institutions.

Direct Economic Impact: Supporting homegrown agencies empowers talented youth, creates local economic value, and demonstrates that world-class solutions can originate from anywhere in Nigeria.

If your organization, enterprise, or personal venture requires an upgraded digital presence, I warmly encourage you to patronise young founders like Steve.

A Connect with Steve-Rich Digital

Services: Web Development (E-commerce, Corporate, Real Estate, Educational, NGOs), Branding & Digital Solutions

Email: steverichdigital@gmail.com

Phone / WhatsApp: +234 814 812-7078

A Decade in the Making – A New Chapter Begins

About ten years ago, I began my relationship with the Chartered Institute of Public Management of Nigeria (CIPMN), a journey that culminated in my admission as a Professional Fellow of the Institute, designating me as Fellow Chartered Public Manager (FCPM) in July 2022. This is the highest professional attainment for public management practitioners.

Today, that relationship enters an exciting new phase.

I am delighted to announce that GlobalVillage Consult and the Chartered Institute of Public Management of Nigeria have formally signed a Memorandum of Understanding to collaborate on the development and delivery of an innovative executive education programme in Economic Diplomacy. This is a byproduct of my seminal book 📕 Economic Diplomacy of the Diaspora.

The flagship initiative, the Masterclass in Economic Diplomacy for Public Managers, is built on a simple but increasingly important conviction:

In today’s world, every public manager must also think like an economic diplomat.

Whether at the federal, state or local government level, attracting investment, building strategic partnerships, engaging the diaspora, promoting exports and positioning communities for prosperity are no longer peripheral responsibilities. They are becoming central to effective public leadership.

I am grateful to the leadership of the Institute, particularly the Registrar / Chief Executive Officer, Mr. Gabriel Opene FCPM, for the confidence reposed in this initiative and for embracing the vision of building professional capacity in this emerging field.

For me personally, this partnership represents more than the launch of another training programme leading to the award of Certified Public Manager in Economic Diplomacy (CPMED). It is another step in a journey that has been shaped by scholarship, public service, international practice and the conviction that ideas can become institutions.

The work begins now.

I look forward to working with the Institute and our future academic, professional and international partners to help equip a new generation of public managers with the competencies needed to lead in an increasingly interconnected global economy.

The journey continues.

Kola-nuts for the Architects of Our Lives

The greatest tributes are often spoken too late. We wait until mentors have gone before finding the words we should have said while they could still hear them. Our highest accolades, our most eloquent speeches and our deepest expressions of gratitude are too often reserved for memorial services, delivered in quiet rooms where the subject can no longer receive them. We build monuments to the departed, yet frequently overlook the living architects who quietly carved out the contours of our minds.

Recently, I decided to break that pattern.

A Homecoming Built on Legacy

In more ways than one, this summer homecoming from Europe with my wife, Tonia, has become a moving study in gratitude. Beyond the professional obligations and familiar landscapes, our journey was anchored by a deeply personal devotion: spending precious time with Tonia’s 103-year-old mother.

We speak with her on the telephone every day, sometimes more than once. Yet there is something profoundly different about physical presence. Four weeks before travelling, we told her we would be spending part of our summer holidays with her. She paused, sighed gently and replied:

“That is wonderful. I hope I am still here when you arrive.”

It was not the first time she had spoken those words. Increasingly, her conversations drift towards the horizon. “The time is drawing near,” she tells us, often followed by her wishes for how she would like to be laid to rest. Each time, we gently reassure her that her life will not simply be mourned but celebrated. There will be no funeral, we tell her, but a festival in honour of a remarkable life.

Listening to her, I have come to realise that there is a rare, almost sacred privilege in living long enough, with one’s faculties still intact, to anticipate one’s own passing. To stand at the summit of a century of life and calmly prepare one’s final exit. It invites those around her to reflect on the beauty of a life well lived and the solemn responsibility of preserving what she has built. That reflection stayed with me.

The Unplanned Reunion in Igbuzo

Against that backdrop of family, memory and stewardship, Tonia and I found ourselves standing outside another modest bungalow, this one in Isieke, close to my ancestral home in Igbuzo. Inside was a man who had profoundly altered the trajectory of my life decades earlier: my former guest English Language teacher and Vice Principal at St. Thomas’s College, Mr. Louis Onwordi.

I had come bearing a gift: a freshly published hardcover copy of my book, Economic Diplomacy of the Diaspora. Yet it was not the book that mattered most. It was the handwritten inscription inside it:

“A short time at St. Thomas’s College; a lifelong imprint on a fifteen-year-old student. Thank you, my revered Teacher and Vice Principal, Mr. Louis Onwordi, for your innovative approach to learning and for shaping my enduring passion for the written and spoken word. Please accept this book as a tribute to your early and profound influence.”

As I read those words aloud, I watched decades of quiet service register in his eyes. He was visibly moved. For a brief moment, time dissolved. There was no retired educator and accomplished author. There was simply a teacher and his fifteen-year-old student, reunited by the enduring thread of gratitude.

Unseen Threads of Providence

Our conversation soon uncovered another remarkable layer of shared history. Years after my time at St. Thomas’s College, long before Tonia and I got married, she had been a young intern at a school where Mr. Onwordi’s late wife taught. She shared an apartment in Umuodafe Quarters with two fellow interns in the same building where Mrs. Onwordi lived with her children. With characteristic generosity, Mrs. Onwordi embraced the three young women, becoming both mentor at school and elder sister at home. Mr. Onwordi who was on transfer then in Kano had never known this story until that afternoon.

As these memories unfolded, it felt as though Providence itself had quietly woven our families together long before either of us recognised the pattern. The reunion became more than a courtesy visit; it became the rediscovery of a shared inheritance.

The Visionary in the Classroom

As we reminisced, my thoughts returned to my days at St. Thomas’s College. Mr. Onwordi’s stay at the school was relatively brief, yet his influence proved enduring. He was one of those rare educators who quietly introduced the future before the rest of society had recognised it. Great teachers do more than teach the curriculum. They shape how their students think about life itself.

At a time when boarding schools often prized rigid discipline above student wellbeing, he introduced reforms that were revolutionary in both their simplicity and humanity.

He extended our lunch break by a full hour and introduced a compulsory midday siesta, believing that rested minds learn better than exhausted ones.

He also created what he called the “Social Moment”, a designated period between dinner and evening prep-class when students could laugh, converse and simply enjoy one another’s company before returning to their books.

These were not merely adjustments to a timetable. They were educational innovations rooted in empathy, balance and foresight.

Long before neuroscience confirmed it, he instinctively understood that tired minds struggle to create, and uninspired hearts struggle to learn.

For a fifteen-year-old discovering the power of language, watching a teacher innovate with such quiet confidence left an indelible mark. He did not simply teach us English. He taught us curiosity. He taught us confidence. He taught us that leadership begins with understanding people.

The Invisible Architects

As I drove away from his home, it struck me that this visit was about far more than one retired teacher in Igbuzo. Every accomplished life rests upon invisible shoulders. Very few of us are self-made. Someone opened a door. Someone corrected an essay. Someone encouraged a hesitant voice. Someone recognised a gift before we recognised it ourselves.Yet we rarely return to say thank you.

We celebrate the published author, the successful entrepreneur, the respected public servant or policy expert, while forgetting the foundational hands that first moulded the clay. To honour those who built us while they are still living is more than good manners. It is a moral responsibility. For the mentor, it offers the quiet satisfaction of knowing that seeds planted decades earlier have borne fruit.

For the student, it is an act of humility. It reminds us that success is never an individual achievement alone. Perhaps the greatest leaders are not those who accumulate followers, but those who quietly produce leaders in others. That is what great teachers do every day.

The Kola-nuts We Owe

As Tonia and I returned to the car, she held my hand, smiled gently and whispered,

“That was compelling. I liked it. Well done.” Her words captured what I had been struggling to express.

Mr. Louis Onwordi may now enjoy the quiet dignity of retirement in Igbuzo as one of its respected Onowu title holders, a trusted confidant of my late father, Obi (Eze) Adigwe Nweke, but his influence continues to walk into rooms he will never enter. It echoes through my speeches, my television analyses and every page I write. Presenting him with my book was not merely the gift of a publication. It was the repayment of a debt.

Legacy is not simply what we leave behind when we die. It is the living imprint we leave in the lives of others while we are still here to witness it. Let us not wait for eulogies to speak our deepest truths. If there is a teacher, mentor or guide who changed your life, find them. Write the note. Make the journey. Say the words. Give them their flowers while they can still smell their fragrance.

And if your culture, like mine, teaches that the kola-nut is the highest symbol of honour and gratitude, then take them that kola-nut of appreciation while their hands can still break it. There are few greater privileges in life than thanking the architects of our lives before the final curtain falls.

Reflecting on Impact, Strengthening Relevance, Shaping the Future: The Evolution From Community Association to Strategic Development Institution

Being A Keynote Address delivered By Collins Nweke at the Plateau State Association USA Annual Convention 2026

President, distinguished members of the Plateau State Association USA, fellow Nigerians, ladies and gentlemen,

Permit me to begin by expressing my sincere appreciation to Dr. Barth Shepkong, the National Executive Council, and the entire PSA-USA family for the honour of inviting me to deliver this keynote.

The theme you have chosen:

Reflecting on Our Impact, Strengthening Our Relevance, Shaping Our Future

is, in my view, one of the most important conversations any diaspora organisation can have.

I suspect this theme was not chosen by accident. It reflects the thinking of an organisation approaching a defining moment. Not the moment when it asks, “How many members do we have?” but when it begins to ask, “What difference do we make?” Not, “How active are we?”but “How useful are we?”

There is a profound difference.

The Diaspora Has Entered a New Era

For decades, we measured the success of the diaspora by remittances. Money sent home. Houses built. Scholarships funded. Hospital bills paid.These remain important. But today the global conversation has changed. The diaspora is increasingly valued not merely for what it sends home, but for what it knows; for the networks it possesses; for the credibility it commands; for the institutions it builds; for the ideas it generates; and for the bridges it creates.

That is precisely the argument I advance throughout my recent book, Economic Diplomacy of the Diaspora. The most valuable export of the diaspora may no longer be money. It may well be knowledge, institutions, relationships, and trust.

What My Belgian Experience Taught Me

Permit me one personal reflection.

For eighteen years, I served as a Green Councillor in the City of Ostend, Belgium. That experience fundamentally transformed how I understand development. Many African countries instinctively look upwards: to Abuja, Washington, Brussels, the World Bank.

Belgium taught me to look sideways. Towards cities. Towards municipalities. Towards communities. Towards local leadership.

Because sustainable national prosperity is built locally; one municipality, one community, one partnership at a time. That insight became the foundation of my recent trilogy on Subnational Economic Diplomacy, where I argued that governors must increasingly become their states’ chief economic diplomats and that local governments are not merely administrative units but strategic actors in investment promotion, innovation, and international engagement.

Encouragingly, these ideas are already beginning to find institutional expression. Following the publication of that trilogy, the Chartered Institute of Public Management of Nigeria approved a pioneering Masterclass in Economic Diplomacy for Public Managers, leading to the professional designation Certified Public Manager in Economic Diplomacy (CPMED), the first programme of its kind, to my knowledge, anywhere in the world.

The initiative reflects a growing recognition that public managers, including, in this context, executives of nonprofit organisations such as PSA-USA, must increasingly think beyond administration alone and embrace investment promotion, trade facilitation, partnership building, diaspora engagement, and global competitiveness as integral elements of modern governance. This is because governance and economic statecraft are no longer separate disciplines. The most successful states of the future will be those whose leaders understand how to connect local opportunity with global possibility. That mindset should equally become part of the DNA of PSA-USA.

Today, I wish to take that argument one step further. Diaspora organisations must also become actors in development.

Community Associations Must Reinvent Themselves

Every association eventually reaches a crossroads. It can remain an organisation that organises dinners, end-of-year parties, New Year receptions, summer picnics, elections, annual conventions and cultural celebrations. There is absolutely nothing wrong with those. Communities need fellowship. Culture matters. Belonging matters.

But if that becomes the entirety of our mission, we risk becoming socially active while remaining strategically irrelevant. The future belongs to organisations that solve problems. Imagine PSA-USA becoming known not merely as a Plateau association in America, but as one of Plateau State’s most trusted strategic development partners.

What might that look like in practice? Imagine PSA-USA partnering with the Chartered Institute of Public Management of Nigeria to endow or sponsor an inaugural Masterclass in Economic Diplomacy and Economic Statecraft for a joint cohort of twenty-five senior officials of the Plateau State Government alongside leaders of PSA-USA. In one classroom, government leaders would learn from diaspora practitioners. Diaspora leaders would gain a deeper understanding of the realities of public administration.

Relationships would be forged. Trust would deepen. A common language of development would emerge. That is how institutions are built. That is how diaspora engagement matures. And that is how a community association becomes a strategic development institution.

From Identity Organisations to Impact Organisations

Identity brings people together. Purpose keeps them together. The future of diaspora organisations lies in moving from identity to impact. What would success look like? Not merely larger attendance at meetings. Not bigger annual conventions. Not merely a reintegration of a breakaway faction. All of those are undoubtedly important. But measurable influence is the ultimate thing.

Imagine if every chapter of PSA-USA, from Ohio to Atlanta, Washington to California, adopted a Local Government Area in Plateau State. Imagine coordinated investment missions. Digital mentoring for young entrepreneurs. Medical partnerships. Agricultural innovation exchanges. University collaborations. Technology transfer. Policy advisory support. Climate resilience projects.

These are not dreams. They are entirely achievable.

Economic Diplomacy Is No Longer Government’s Monopoly

Traditionally, diplomacy belonged to ambassadors. That is no longer true. Businesses practise diplomacy. Universities practise diplomacy. Cities practise diplomacy. Sports practise diplomacy. Culture practises diplomacy. And the diaspora practises diplomacy every single day.

Every successful Nigerian professional abroad shapes perceptions of Nigeria. Every entrepreneur builds confidence. Every researcher creates partnerships. Every student becomes an informal ambassador. Diaspora associations therefore occupy a unique space. They can convene people governments cannot. They can build trust where institutions struggle. They can sustain relationships beyond electoral cycles. That is economic diplomacy in action.

Plateau State Possesses Extraordinary Assets

When many people think of Plateau State, they think first of tourism. Its cool climate. Its spectacular landscapes. Its hospitality. These are indeed remarkable assets. But Plateau possesses something even more valuable.

Its people.

Wherever I travel, I encounter Plateau professionals excelling in medicine, engineering, academia, technology, business and public service. The question is no longer whether Plateau has talent. The question is whether that talent is organised. Because talent without organisation rarely changes societies.

Leadership Is Stewardship

Leadership in community organisations deserves greater appreciation. These are volunteer positions. People give their time. Their experience. Their energy. Often with little or no reward. Yet leadership carries an obligation, not merely to preserve institutions, but to renew them. Every generation inherits an institution. Its duty is to leave it stronger than it found it. That is true of governments. It is true of companies. And it is equally true of diaspora organisations.

A Challenge to the Younger Generation

Permit me to speak directly to younger Nigerians in the diaspora. You are not merely the future. You are already part of the present. Your generation thinks differently. Works differently. Builds networks differently. Uses technology differently. Do not wait until you are fifty before leading. Bring your ideas. Challenge respectfully. Innovate boldly. Renew fearlessly. Strong institutions deliberately create room for generational succession.

Five Questions for PSA-USA

As you reflect during this convention, I invite you to wrestle with five questions.

First:

What measurable impact have we made in the lives of Plateau people?

Second:

If PSA-USA ceased to exist tomorrow, who outside our membership would notice?

Third:

What strategic partnerships should we intentionally build over the next five years?

Fourth:

How do we deliberately prepare the next generation of leaders?

Finally:

When future generations tell the story of PSA-USA, what chapter do we want this convention to become?

These questions matter more than constitutional amendments. They matter as much as healing internal divisions. They matter more than elections. Because they define purpose.

Closing Reflections

Allow me to conclude where I began. Your theme asks us to reflect. Reflection without honesty becomes nostalgia. Reflection with courage becomes transformation. Institutions are not remembered for the meetings they held. They are remembered for the futures they changed. The future of diaspora organisations will not be determined by how many members they recruit. It will be determined by how indispensable they become. The future belongs to organisations that create value. That build institutions. That connect continents. That invest in people. That inspire trust. That strengthen governance. And that practise economic diplomacy.

For too long, we have measured the success of the diaspora by the money it sends home. The next chapter will measure us by the institutions we help build, the leaders we prepare, the partnerships we forge, and the opportunities we create. If PSA-USA embraces that calling, it will not simply have a future. It will help shape the future of Plateau State itself. I have every confidence that PSA-USA possesses the people, the experience and the commitment to become such an institution.

My prayer is that years from now, people will not remember this convention simply because speeches were delivered. They will remember it because this was the day PSA-USA decided to move beyond being a community association and embraced its calling as a strategic partner in the development of Plateau State and, by extension, Nigeria.

Thank you.

God bless PSA-USA.

God bless Plateau State.

God bless the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

And may God continue to bless the Nigerian diaspora wherever we may be.

Collins Nweke FCPM, FIMC, PhD (hc), DFRA

Delivered from Brussels, Belgium | Saturday 11 July 2026

BOOK LAUNCH OF THE CITY HE NEVER RETURNED TO By Ibekwe Paul Chukwuemeka

Keynote address delivered by Collins Nweke,
Global Affairs Analyst & Author, Economic Diplomacy of the Diaspora

Ladies and Gentlemen

Distinguished Guests
Members of the Literary Community
Friends of Nigeria
Fellow Africans
And lovers of ideas

Good evening.

It is both an honour and a profound responsibility to stand before you today to launch what I consider one of the most important Nigerian novels of recent years particularly out here in Belgium and Europe.

The City He Never Returned To is not simply a novel.

It is a mirror. It is a ledger. It is a conversation.

And perhaps most importantly, it is an invitation.

An invitation to revisit a chapter of our collective history that remains unfinished.

An invitation to imagine what healing might look like if we summoned sufficient courage to pursue it.

An invitation to move beyond remembrance toward repair.

Before I speak about this book, permit me a brief personal reflection.

I come to this conversation not merely as a reader, analyst, or keynote speaker. In more ways than one, I am a war child. When the Nigerian Civil War broke out, I was still a toddler. Like many children of that generation, my memories are not arranged as historical facts or political arguments. They survive instead as fragments: the anxiety in adult voices, the sudden silences when certain subjects arose, the cautious way people spoke about the future, and the lingering awareness that something profound had happened to our country and to the people around us.

As I grew older, I came to understand that while some people experienced the war on the battlefield, many of us experienced it in memory, in inheritance, and in its long shadows. We inherited stories. We inherited grief. We inherited caution. We inherited questions that were never fully answered.

That is why this novel resonates with me so deeply. I am not a distant observer looking back at history through the comfort of archives. I am part of a generation shaped by the afterlife of that history. A generation that grew up among survivors. A generation that learned that wars do not always end when the guns fall silent. Sometimes they continue quietly, in memory, in institutions, in relationships, and in the stories nations tell themselves about who belongs and who does not.

Perhaps that is why I find the central proposition of this book so compelling. It is not content merely to remember. It dares to ask what comes after memory. It dares to ask how a nation heals. It dares to ask how survival can become repair, and how repair can become renewal.

The author, Ibekwe Paul Chukwuemeka, tells us in his Author’s Note that this novel began not with a plot, but with a question:

“How does a nation live with a past that refuses to become past?”

That question sits at the heart of this remarkable work.

For many Nigerians, particularly those whose families carry memories of the civil war, the past has never truly become past.

It survives in silences. It survives in inherited fears. It survives in caution, in suspicion, in stories told under the mango trees, at the ogwa in the village square, around dining tables and family gatherings. It survives in memories that official history often struggles to accommodate.

What makes this novel extraordinary is that it refuses to become trapped in grievance. Instead, it dares to ask a more difficult question:

What comes after survival?

The Emeka Ibekwe’s answer is both bold and original.

He calls it “speculative repair.”

In his own words and I quote:

“What if we treated this national healing not as a mysterious affair of the heart, but as the most complex—and most worthy—engineering project of our lifetime?” Unquote

That single sentence may well become one of the defining intellectual contributions of this book.

Because throughout history, societies have often spoken about reconciliation as an emotional process.

But this novel challenges us to think differently. It suggests that healing is also institutional. That memory requires archives. That justice requires documentation. That reconciliation requires accountability. And that nation-building requires deliberate design.

As someone whose professional and intellectual life has increasingly focused on economic diplomacy, governance, and institutional development, I find this idea deeply compelling.

Nations do not become stronger because they forget. They become stronger because they learn how to remember responsibly. That is why one of the central symbols in this novel is not a weapon. Not a politician. Not even a battlefield.

It is a ledger.

The ledger carried by Okechukwu Nwankwo, whose character or persona is recognisable in the Okey be anyi of our different families.

A simple book of records. A record of assets. A record of losses. A record of names. A record of existence itself.

At one point in the novel, Okechukwu says:

“If we lose the record of what we have, we lose the proof of who we are.”

That statement speaks not only to one family. It speaks to nations. Because nations, too, require ledgers. Ledgers of truth. Ledgers of memory. Ledgers of accountability.

Without them, history becomes vulnerable to manipulation. And societies become vulnerable to repetition.

One of the most moving passages in the book appears in the dedication where the author writes:

“The opposite of war is not just peace, but the difficult, daily work of building something worthy of the survivors.”

Allow me to repeat that:

“The opposite of war is not just peace, but the difficult, daily work of building something worthy of the survivors.”

That is a profound political statement. And perhaps an even deeper moral one. Because too often we celebrate the end of conflict while neglecting the harder work that follows. The work of rebuilding trust. The work of rebuilding institutions. The work of rebuilding relationships. The work of rebuilding shared futures.

The Emeka (the author) reminds us that survival alone is not enough.

A nation owes its survivors something more. It owes them dignity. It owes them recognition. It owes them inclusion. And it owes future generations a better inheritance.

What particularly impressed me about this novel is that it refuses easy binaries.

It does not seek to inflame. It seeks to understand. It does not seek victory. It seeks healing.

It does not seek separation. It seeks a stronger basis for coexistence.

In the Introduction, the author writes:

“You cannot repair what you will not first acknowledge.”

This is true of families. It is true of institutions. And it is true of nations.

Across the world, societies that have successfully confronted difficult histories have not done so by pretending those histories never happened.

They have done so by acknowledging them honestly. Germany did not become stronger by forgetting. South Africa did not become stronger by denying. Rwanda did not become stronger by silence.

Every society that has healed has first found the courage to look directly at its wounds.

Nigeria is no exception.

Yet the beauty of this novel is that it does not stop at diagnosis. Many books tell us what is broken. Few attempt to imagine what repair might look like.

This one does.

And that is why I believe The City He Never Returned To belongs to an emerging tradition of literature that does more than remember history.

It seeks to shape the future.

As a first-generation Nigerian migrant who has spent decades living in Europe while remaining emotionally, intellectually, and professionally connected to Nigeria, I found another aspect of this book deeply resonant.

The author writes from Brussels. He writes from distance. Yet he writes with intimacy.

He demonstrates that distance need not diminish belonging. Indeed, sometimes distance sharpens perspective. Sometimes it allows us to see patterns that proximity obscures. Sometimes it allows us to imagine possibilities that entrenched positions dismiss.

The diaspora has often been described as a source of remittances. This novel reminds us that the diaspora is also a source of ideas. A source of memory. A source of imagination. And sometimes, a source of national self-reflection.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

At its core, this book is an act of hope. Not naïve hope. Not sentimental hope. But disciplined hope. The kind of hope that understands pain. The kind of hope that acknowledges loss. The kind of hope that recognises injustice. Yet still chooses to believe in the possibility of a shared future.

The author closes his introduction with these words:

“The discussion begins not in the halls of power, but in the imagination.”

How true. Every institution was once an idea. Every policy was once a conversation. Every reform was once an act of imagination. And every better future begins with someone daring to imagine it.

Tonight, Ibekwe Paul Chukwuemeka (simply Emeka to us his friends) has done precisely that.

He has given us more than a novel. He has given us a framework for conversation. A vocabulary for healing. A language of repair. And a challenge. The challenge is whether we are prepared to engage honestly with the questions he raises.

Whether we are prepared to move from memory to understanding. From understanding to empathy. From empathy to repair. And from repair to renewal.

I congratulate the author for this remarkable achievement.

I commend Akajiofo Press for bringing this important work into the public domain. And I encourage every reader not merely to read this book, but to study it, and to wrestle with it.

Discuss it. Debate it. Question it.

Because the future it imagines ultimately belongs not to the author alone, but to all of us.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

It is with great pleasure that I formally present and celebrate the launch of The City He Never Returned To.

May it travel widely. May it provoke thought. May it inspire dialogue.

And may it contribute, in its own important way, to building a Nigeria, and indeed an Africa, worthy of those who survived, and worthy of those yet to come.

Thank you.

God bless Nigeria. God bless Africa.

And God bless the power of literature to help us imagine a better future.

Brussels, Saturday 20 June 2026

A Trilogy on Why Governance and Economic Statecraft Matter

For decades, governance and economic diplomacy were treated as separate disciplines. Governments governed. Diplomats attracted investment. Development agencies pursued growth.

That distinction is rapidly disappearing.

In this three-part Proshare essay series, I explore why the future of economic development, particularly in Nigeria, will increasingly be shaped not only by national governments but by states and their leaders.

Part One: From Gateway to Factory Floor argues that investment competition has become fundamentally subnational. Increasingly, investors are asking not whether to invest in Nigeria, but where in Nigeria to invest.

Part Two: Why Sub-National Economic Diplomacy Will Define Nigeria’s Next Investment examines why states must become active participants in economic diplomacy, competing not merely with one another but with provinces and regions across Asia, Europe, and Latin America for capital, talent, technology, and partnerships.

Part Three: The Governor as Chief Economic Diplomat: A New Leadership Model for Nigerian States proposes a new leadership paradigm, one in which governors are measured not only by infrastructure commissioned, but by investment attracted, jobs created, exports expanded, and global partnerships secured.

Drawing on nearly three decades of experience in municipal governance and my work in international trade and investment promotion through the Nigeria Belgium Luxembourg Business Forum, the trilogy offers a practitioner’s perspective on a simple but increasingly important proposition.

Encouragingly, these ideas are already beginning to find institutional expression. Following the publication of the series, the Chartered Institute of Public Management of Nigeria has approved a pioneering Master Class in Economic Diplomacy for Public Managers, leading to the designation Certified Public Manager in Economic Diplomacy (CPMED). The initiative reflects a growing recognition that public managers must increasingly think beyond administration alone and embrace investment promotion, trade facilitation, partnership building, diaspora engagement, and global competitiveness as integral elements of modern governance.

Governance and economic statecraft are no longer separate disciplines. The most successful states of the future will be those whose leaders understand how to connect local opportunity with global possibility.

I am pleased to share the complete trilogy and look forward to the conversations and practical reforms it may inspire.

Bridging the Gap through Diaspora Advocacy & Professional Excellence Award”

Collins Nweke Award Acceptance Speech

Nzuko Africa Festival 2026 – Paris, France
31 May 2026

Distinguished guests, esteemed partners of The AfrikaFora, fellow Africans and friends of Africa, ladies and gentlemen,

I stand before you tonight deeply humbled and profoundly grateful to receive the “Bridging the Gap through Diaspora Advocacy & Professional Excellence Award.”

To the leadership of The AfrikaFora, particularly the Founder / CEO, Madame Winifred Uloaku Gaillard, thank you for this honour. I accept it with a sense of gratitude, but also with a deep awareness that no meaningful journey is ever undertaken alone.

This recognition bears my name, but it belongs to many people.

It belongs to my family, especially my wife, Tonia, who has supported my often demanding public engagements here in Europe and increasingly across continents.

It belongs to colleagues, mentors, friends, and collaborators who have walked alongside me over the years.

It belongs to the countless members of the African Diaspora whose stories, struggles, sacrifices, and successes continue to inspire my work.

And it belongs to the young Africans, both on the continent and across the Diaspora, whose limitless potential convinces me every day that Africa’s best chapters are still ahead of us.

Tonight’s award carries a title that resonates deeply with me: “Bridging the Gap.”

In many ways, that phrase has defined much of my life’s work.

As a first-generation African migrant in Europe, I have spent decades navigating different worlds, Africa and Europe, public service and consultancy, local governance and international engagement, policy and practice.

Along the way, I discovered something important: the greatest barriers facing our world are often not geographical distances, but gaps in understanding, trust, opportunity, and representation.

The Diaspora occupies a unique position in this regard.

We understand the realities of our countries of origin while engaging daily with the systems and institutions of our countries of residence. We are uniquely positioned to build bridges where others see barriers and borders.

We bridge markets. We bridge cultures. We bridge ideas. We bridge innovation. We bridge generations. And increasingly, we bridge development.

For many years, the African Diaspora was viewed primarily through the lens of remittances. While remittances remain important, they represent only a fraction of our contribution.

The Diaspora is also a source of knowledge, networks, investment, innovation, policy influence, and soft power.

Indeed, this conviction became the foundation of my recently published book, Economic Diplomacy of the Diaspora and appropriately dedicated to my grandson with the following words: “For my grandson, Noah Nweke, That the world we shape today may take root in your hands and bloom in the tomorrows of your generation. With love and faith in the future”. Again, Noah may have been named here but to you, my young people of Africa, that aspirational message is for you all.

The central argument of that work is simple:

The Diaspora should not merely be seen as a community that sends money home. It should be recognized as a strategic partner in national development and international engagement.

If Africa is to achieve the transformation we seek, we must move beyond seeing our Diaspora as observers of development and embrace them as active participants in shaping it.

That is why this award is particularly meaningful to me.

It recognizes not only professional accomplishment but also advocacy, the belief that ideas matter, that institutions matter, and that people matter.

Throughout my career; whether serving in public office in Belgium, working in international trade and economic diplomacy, engaging with governments, speaking through the media, mentoring young people, or advocating for stronger Africa-Diaspora partnerships; I have remained guided by one conviction:

Africa’s future will be built not by governments alone, nor by business alone, nor by civil society alone, but through partnerships that bring all these forces together.

As Africans, we sometimes focus excessively on what divides us.

Nationality. Language. Religion. Ethnicity. Political persuasion.

Yet whenever I travel across Africa or engage with Africans around the world, I encounter something stronger than these differences.

I encounter a shared aspiration.

A shared determination.

A shared belief that Africa can and must occupy its rightful place in the world.

That belief is why gatherings such as Nzuko Africa matter.

The word Nzuko itself means coming together.

And perhaps there is no greater task before us today than coming together; across borders, generations, and sectors; to shape a common African future.

To the younger generation present here tonight, permit me to leave you with a brief message.

You are not merely the leaders of tomorrow.

You are already leaders today.

The Africa you desire will not arrive as a gift from history.

It must be built intentionally, through excellence, integrity, innovation, entrepreneurship, scholarship, and service.

Do not wait for perfect conditions.

Do not wait for permission.

Do not wait for others to define your possibilities.

Believe in your capacity to shape outcomes.

Africa’s rebirth will not be driven solely by natural resources beneath our soil.

It will be driven by the human resources within our people.

And among those people, none are more important than our youth.

As I accept this award tonight, I do so not as a destination reached, but as encouragement to continue the journey.

There remains much work to be done.

There are still gaps to bridge.

There are still partnerships to build.

There are still opportunities to unlock.

And there are still many African stories waiting to be written, waiting to be told.

I therefore accept this honour with renewed commitment to continue contributing, in whatever way I can, to a stronger Diaspora, a more prosperous Africa, and a more connected world.

Thank you once again to The AfrikaFora for this recognition.

Thank you to all who have supported my journey.

And thank you to every African, at home and abroad, who continues to believe in the promise of our continent.

Together, let us continue bridging the gap.

Together, let us continue building the future.

Together, let us continue advancing the African renaissance.

Thank you, and may God bless Africa and all her people.

Thank you.

Youth, Future, and the African Rebirth

Being a Speech Delivered by Collins Nweke as Guest of Honour and Founding Patron of The AfrikaFora, at Nzuko Africa 2026, Paris, France on 30 May 2026

Your Excellency, Founder & CEO The AfrikaFora, Madam Winifred Uloaku Gaillard

Incoming Grand Patron The AfrikaFora, Chief Ben C. Etiaba

Distinguished guests

Members of the African Diaspora

Young leaders

Ladies and Gentlemen

It is both a privilege and a deeply personal honour to stand before you today at Nzuko Africa 2026.

When I was invited to speak on the theme “Youth, Future, and the African Rebirth,” I at once recognised that this is not merely a conference theme. It is perhaps the defining question of our generation. And true to character, The AfrikaFora has located it within the context of Nzuko Africa 2026 in celebration of Africa Day.

The future of Africa will not be decided in conference halls alone.

It will be decided by the quality of our youth.

It will be determined by the courage of our ideas.

And it will be shaped by whether we choose hope over cynicism, action over complaint, and vision over nostalgia.

Because every generation inherits an Africa. But only a few generations are called upon to reinvent Africa.

I believe ours is one of them. And in more ways than one, The AfrikaFora epitomises it.

Africa’s Greatest Resource Is Not Under the Ground

For decades, the world has described Africa through the language of resources.

They speak of our oil. Our gas. Our minerals. Our fertile land. Our strategic location.

But I have come to believe that Africa’s greatest resource is not beneath the soil.

It is above it. It is the African youth.

The young woman in Lagos building a technology startup.

The young researcher in Nairobi developing solutions to local challenges.

The young entrepreneur in Abidjan.

The young creative in Johannesburg.

The young engineer in Kigali.

The young diaspora professional in Paris, Brussels, London, New York, Toronto, or Dubai.

Africa’s future is not hidden in its mines.

It is walking on its streets, from Kinshasa to Kigali.

It is sitting in our universities.

It is logging onto digital platforms.

It is waiting for an opportunity.

The question before us is simple:

Will we invest in this generation enough to allow it to flourish?

The Rebirth We Seek

When we speak of African rebirth, we must be clear about what we mean.

A rebirth is not a return to the past.

It is the creation of something new.

Africa does not need romantic nostalgia.

Nor does it need imported identities.

Africa needs confidence.

Confidence to innovate.

Confidence to trade.

Confidence to compete.

Confidence to collaborate.

Confidence to lead.

The African rebirth must therefore be economic, intellectual, technological, cultural, and institutional.

It must be a rebirth built not merely on political slogans but on measurable opportunities.

Because no young person can eat rhetoric.

No graduate can build a future on promises alone.

And no continent can prosper without creating pathways for its youth to participatemeaningfully in the economy.

African Youth & Economic Diplomacy

As many of you know, this year I begin a global tour around my recently published book, Economic Diplomacy of the Diaspora.

In every city I visit, from Europe to Africa and beyond, one question inevitably emerges:

“What role should young Africans play in shaping Africa’s future?”

The answer lies at the very heart of the book.

The central argument of Economic Diplomacy of the Diaspora is simple:

Diaspora communities are not merely remittance senders.

They are bridges.

Bridges of knowledge.

Bridges of capital.

Bridges of innovation.

Bridges of culture.

Bridges of opportunity.

And when those bridges are deliberately connected to Africa’s development aspirations, extraordinary things become possible.

But there is an important evolution of that idea.

The future of diaspora engagement is not my generation.

It is yours.

The next phase of Africa’s economic diplomacy will be led by digitally connected, globally educated, technologically fluent young Africans.

Young people who understand both Africa and the world.

Young people who can move comfortably between Lagos and London, Kigali and Brussels, Accra and Toronto, Nairobi and Silicon Valley.

Young people who can transform identity into influence and influence into development.

The African rebirth will not happen despite its youth.

It will happen because of its youth.

A New Social Contract

But let me speak frankly.

Young Africans cannot carry the burden of Africa’s future alone.

Governments have responsibilities.

Institutions have responsibilities.

The private sector has responsibilities.

The Diaspora has responsibilities.

And elders have responsibilities.

Every generation owes the next generation more than advice.

It owes them opportunity.

We cannot continue asking young people to believe in a future that we ourselves have failed to prepare.

The African rebirth requires a new social contract.

One that prioritises education.

Rewards innovation.

Encourages entrepreneurship.

Protects merit.

Strengthens institutions.

And creates an environment where talent can thrive regardless of ethnicity, religion, gender, social background, or geography.

The Power of Passing the Baton

Today is particularly emotional for me. As Founding Patron of The AfrikaFora, I have had the privilege of watching an idea become a movement.

I have seen commitment transform into community.

I have seen vision become impact. And today, I formally step aside from that role.

But let me be clear. Stepping aside is not stepping out.

It is renewal.

It is continuity.

It is faith in the future.

No institution survives if it depends on one individual.

Strong institutions endure because leadership is transferred with grace, trust, and purpose.

That is why I am delighted that the baton passes into the capable hands of our new Grand Patron, Chief Ben C. Etiaba.

Chief Etiaba has demonstrated repeatedly, in different spheres of service and leadership, an exceptional ability to receive a baton and carry it forward with dignity, wisdom, and results.

I have every confidence that under his stewardship, The AfrikaFora will not merely continue.

It will grow.

It will flourish.

And it will reach heights beyond what we originally imagined.

That is how progress works.

Each generation builds a bridge and invites the next generation to extend it.

A Message to Young Africans

To the young people listening today:

Do not wait for permission to dream.

Do not wait for perfect conditions.

Do not wait for governments to solve every problem.

Africa’s future belongs to those willing to build it.

Be ambitious enough to compete globally.

Be proud enough to remain connected to Africa.

Be innovative enough to create solutions.

And be courageous enough to challenge systems that no longer serve the common good.

The future is not something that happens to you.

The future is something you create.

Conclusion: Africa’s Finest Century

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I remain optimistic.

Not because Africa’s challenges are small.

But because Africa’s possibilities are enormous.

I have travelled widely.

I have worked across diplomacy, governance, business, media, and civil society.

And everywhere I go, I encounter evidence that Africa’s moment is not behind us.

It is ahead of us.

The rebirth of Africa will not be delivered by destiny.

People will deliver it.

By visionaries.

By innovators.

By entrepreneurs.

By scholars.

By patriots.

By diaspora communities.

And above all, by young Africans who refuse to accept that the future must resemble the past.

Let us therefore leave this gathering committed to one shared mission:

To build an Africa where talent matters more than circumstance.

Where opportunity matters more than privilege.

Where institutions outlive personalities.

Where leadership creates successors.

And where every young African can confidently say:

“The future is not somewhere else. The future is here. And I am part of building it.”

That is the Africa worth believing in.

That is the Africa worth building.

And that is the Africa whose rebirth has already begun.

Thank you.

God bless Africa.
God bless the African Diaspora.
And God bless the generation that will complete Africa’s rebirth.

Collins Nweke is Founding Patron, The AfrikaFora and Author, Economic Diplomacy of the Diaspora

AKU LUO UNO

Reimagining Diaspora Wealth as Strategic Capital for Homeland Development

Abstract for a keynote speech at the Imo Community Europe 2026 Annual Convention in Freiburg, Germany on Saturday 2 May 2026

by Collins Nweke

The Igbo philosophical construct aku luo uno, literally translated as “may wealth reach home” has long served as a moral compass guiding the relationship between individual success and communal responsibility. Historically, it affirmed a simple but powerful proposition: prosperity achieves its fullest meaning when it is reinvested in one’s place of origin. In contemporary times, however, the meaning of aku luo uno demands both preservation and reinterpretation.

This presentation situates aku luo uno within the broader framework of diaspora economic diplomacy, arguing that what was once a cultural expectation must now evolve into a structured development strategy. The modern Igbo diaspora is no longer defined solely by remittances or symbolic homecoming projects, but by its capacity to mobilise capital, knowledge, networks, and institutional influence across borders.

Drawing from the central thesis of Economic Diplomacy of the Diaspora (Nweke, Collins, 2026) the presentation advances three interconnected arguments.

First, that diaspora wealth must be understood not merely in financial terms, but as a composite of economic, intellectual, and relational capital.

Second, that the effectiveness of aku luo uno depends on moving from fragmented individual efforts to coordinated, scalable interventions, through investment platforms, policy engagement, and partnerships with credible institutions.

Third, that sustainable impact requires a shift from consumption-driven remittances to production-oriented investments capable of generating jobs, infrastructure, and long-term value within Imo and Southeast Nigeria.

The discussion will also confront the tensions embedded in the philosophy: the pressure of expectation on diaspora individuals, the risks of poorly structured investments, and the governance gaps that often undermine trust. In doing so, it seeks to move the conversation from obligation to strategy, from sentiment to systems.

Ultimately, aku luo uno is reframed not as a nostalgic ideal, but as a forward-looking doctrine, one that positions the diaspora as a decisive actor in shaping the economic future of its homeland. The question is no longer whether wealth should return home, but how it can do so in ways that are intelligent, impactful, and enduring.

Collins Nweke

Ostend, Belgium | www.collinsnweke.eu | admin@collinsnweke.eu

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THE SPEECH 🎤

Aku Luo Uno: When Wealth Finds Its Way Home

Distinguished leaders of the Imo Community Europe,

Your Excellencies, honoured guests,

Ndi Imo, umunne’m,

There are certain phrases in our Igbo language that do not merely communicate. They command.

They carry memory, expectation, and judgment all at once.

Aku luo uno is one of them.

It is not just a proverb. It is not even just a philosophy.

It is a quiet but firm question that follows every Igbo person, wherever they go in the world:

When your wealth has grown… will it remember the road home?

For generations, our people have understood success in a way that is both deeply personal and profoundly communal. A man may build towers abroad, earn titles, command influence. But there is a simple test that awaits him at home. Not harsh, not loud, but unmistakably clear:

Who have you lifted? What have you built? What remains of you here?

And so we grew up hearing and believing that if a person is known all over the world but not known in his hometown, then he is, in truth, not yet known.

That is the moral architecture of aku luo uno.

But today, standing here in Europe, we must ask ourselves an honest question:

What does aku luo uno mean in our time? What imperatives of our time does aku luo uno denote?

Because the world has changed. And so must our understanding.

From Obligation to Strategy

In the past, aku luo uno often expressed itself in visible, immediate ways.

A house built in the village.

Support for extended family.

Community projects: wells, town halls, scholarships.

These were noble. They still are.

But today, they are no longer sufficient.

Because the scale of the challenge at home has changed. And the capacity of the diaspora has also changed.

We are no longer a scattered people sending money home.

We are professionals, entrepreneurs, policymakers, researchers, investors, innovators.

We sit in boardrooms, universities, institutions, and governments across Europe and beyond.

Which means this:

Our wealth is no longer only what we earn. It is what we know, who we know, and what we can influence.

So aku luo uno must evolve, from a moral obligation into a strategic instrument.

What Does It Mean for Wealth to Truly “Come Home”?

Let me suggest three shifts.

First: From Money to Capital

When we say aku, we often think of money.

But money alone does not transform societies.

Capital is broader.

It includes:

Knowledge
Skills
Networks
Access
Credibility

If you bring money home without systems, it disappears.

If you bring knowledge and structure, it multiplies.

So the real question is not: How much have you sent home?

But: What have you built that can outlive you?

Second: From Individual Effort to Collective Impact

One of our strengths as Igbo people is individual enterprise.

But one of our limitations is fragmentation.

Too many of us are doing small, disconnected things.

Building in isolation. Investing without coordination.

Meanwhile, the problems we seek to solve: industrialisation, healthcare, education, infrastructure,… are not small problems. They require scale.

So aku luo uno in our time must become collective.

Not just:

my project

But:

our platform

Not just:

my success story

But:

our shared transformation

We must begin to think in terms of:

Diaspora investment clusters
Structured partnerships with credible institutions
Long-term projects, not one-off interventions

Because scattered drops of water cannot build a river. As we talk of aku luo uno, let us remember also that: anyu kosia mamili onu, ogba ofufu. Do I need to explain further? Mba nu!

Third: From Consumption to Production

Let us be candid with ourselves.

A significant portion of what we send home is consumed.

Celebrations. Buildings that do not produce value.

Short-term relief without long-term impact.

But no society develops through consumption.

Development comes from production:

Businesses that create jobs
Systems that generate value
Investments that compound over time

So when wealth returns home, it must not only be seen. It must be felt economically.

It must employ people.

It must create opportunity.

It must shift the structure of the local economy.

That is when aku has truly luo uno.

The Difficult Truths We Must Confront

But let us not romanticise this journey.

There are real tensions.

Many in the diaspora have invested and lost:

to poor governance, weak institutions, corruption, inefficiency, broken trust… It is a long list!

Others feel overwhelmed by expectations:

as though success abroad automatically makes them responsible for everything at home.

And some have simply withdrawn:

choosing distance over disappointment.

These are not trivial concerns. They are real. They have affected real Ndigbo. They still affect Umu Imo…

But here is the truth:

No society develops in perfect conditions.

Society develops because people decide to build despite imperfection.

The answer is not withdrawal.

The answer is structure, collaboration, and smarter engagement.

A New Interpretation of Aku Luo Uno

So perhaps it is time to reinterpret the proverb.

Maybe aku luo uno should no longer be understood as:

“Bring your wealth home.”

But rather:

“Let your wealth find intelligent pathways home.”

Pathways that are:

Structured
Scalable
Sustainable

Pathways that transform not just families, but communities.

Not just communities, but systems.

Conclusion: The Road Home Is Still Calling

Ndi Imo, umunne m,

No matter how far we travel, there is something about home that does not travel with us.

It waits.

And in that waiting, there is a quiet expectation. Not of charity. But of contribution.

The question before us is not whether we have succeeded abroad.

Many of us have.

The question is:

Will that success remain personal…

or will it become purposeful?

Because in the end, aku luo uno is not about geography.

It is about legacy.

It is about ensuring that when our story is told,

it is not only said that we went far…

But that something meaningful followed us back home.

Thank you. Dâlu nú Umu Imo.
Jisinu Ike Ndigbo!

Zero-Tariff China Access can be a Strategic Opening for Nigeria if Matched with Domestic Reform

In a Worker’s Day 2026 interview, incidentally the same day that Zero-Tariff China Access for Africa took effect, South African Broadcasting Service radio, had me on to discuss the implications of the new trade regime for Nigeria.

Zero-Tariff China Access essentially means that a wide range of African exports can now enter China duty-free. For Nigeria, this is both an opportunity and a test of readiness.

On the opportunity side, it potentially opens up the world’s second-largest consumer market to Nigerian products like agricultural goods, solid minerals, leather, textiles, and even some manufactured items. If properly leveraged, Nigeria could diversify away from oil and earn more non-oil export revenue, which is critical for economic stability.

However, and this is the critical point, zero tariffs do not automatically translate into increased exports. Nigeria’s challenge has never really been market access. It has been production capacity, quality standards, and export logistics. China is a highly competitive market with strict phytosanitary and industrial standards. Many Nigerian producers are not yet positioned to meet those consistently.

There is also a structural concern: without a deliberate export strategy, Nigeria risks deepening its role as a raw material supplier, rather than moving up the value chain. So instead of exporting processed cocoa, for example, we may continue exporting raw cocoa while importing finished goods at a higher value.

So, in summary, Zero-Tariff China Access is a strategic opening, but it will only benefit Nigeria if it is matched with domestic reforms: improving infrastructure, supporting exporters, ensuring standards compliance, and aligning trade policy with industrial policy.

If Nigeria gets that alignment right, this could be transformative. If not, it risks becoming another missed opportunity, I told Innocent Samosa, Business Reporter at SABS Radio here

https://omny.fm/shows/business-africa/china-grants-africa-zero-tariff-access-to-all-africa-countries