Growing up, I wasn’t much of a book lover. I certainly wasn’t what we called an efiko—someone who genuinely enjoyed reading textbooks and lecture notes. Studying Estate Management at the University of Lagos, however, left no room to avoid books. I’ll never forget Advanced Valuation, a prerequisite course that stood between us and graduation.
Like many difficult courses, it inspired the familiar student plea borrowed from Moses: “Let my people go.” It was our humorous way of asking the lecturer for mercy and to let us progress. I did most of my academic reading because I had to. Jeffrey Archer was different: his novels made me want to turn the page.
Perhaps it was the politics, the ambition, or the way ordinary people rose from obscurity to build businesses and institutions. Whatever the reason, he reached the reluctant reader in me. That is why news of his death at 86 felt personal. I now realise I was not simply following his plots; I was encountering the forces that would later shape my professional interests: property, capital, location, enterprise, institutions and public policy.
Kane and Abel, my favourite Archer book, remains unforgettable. What interests me is not only the rivalry between William Kane and Abel Rosnovski. Kane represented finance, while Abel built a hotel empire. One controlled capital; the other turned ambition into physical assets, operating businesses, and places customers could experience. I also watched the television adaptation of Kane and Abel.
Seeing the characters and their contrasting worlds on screen deepened my attachment to the story, but the book was what first drew me in. For someone who had to persuade himself to read academic material, discovering a novel that required no such persuasion was an experience worth remembering.