Capitalism In The Colonies: African Merchants in Lagos, 1851 - 1931 [Chapters 7 - 8]

Unlocking capital for wealth

(In case anyone is wondering why we are doing this 2 chapters at a time: it is because the book is quite dense in terms of information - and sources - and will be almost impossible to condense more than 2 chapters into one post at a time)

The Landed Gentry

The next chapter explores the aftermath of the British invasion of Yoruba land in 1892. While the invasion itself was dramatic, it was in many ways a symptom of deeper economic woes—international prices for key exports from Lagos had plummeted, undermining local prosperity. By the century’s end, the golden age for African merchants had drawn to a close, with many losing their businesses and fortunes. Compounding this decline was the rise of "scientific racism," which left many Nigerians, shocked by the invasion, questioning their place within the empire. A notable cultural shift emerged, with those who had adopted Victorian names reverting back to Yoruba ones, reclaiming their heritage amidst the changing times.

The Williams brothers stand as two of the most distinguished figures in recent Nigerian history. Akintola Williams, who passed away last year at 104, broke ground as Nigeria’s first chartered accountant. His firm, Akintola Williams & Co., later merged with Deloitte, becoming today’s Deloitte & Touche in Nigeria. His younger brother, Frederick Rotimi Alade Williams—familiarly known as FRA Williams or “Timi The Law”—was Nigeria’s first Queen’s Counsel - if you somehow forgot this, he wasted no time in reminding you as soon as he came down from his Rolls Royce which had its front passenger seat removed to accommodate his giant frame. Both men were grandsons of Zachariah Archibald Williams, lauded as the leading Lagos Saro merchant in the late 19th century.

The story of Zachariah Archibald (ZA) Williams offers a lens into the compounding of wealth and privilege in Nigeria. He was the son of Samuel Ladipo, an Egba man who was once enslaved, freed, and resettled in Freetown, where he converted to Christianity. Samuel later returned to Abeokuta and then to Lagos, where he established himself as a trader in cotton, palm oil, alongside investments in property. ZA and his brother started their own venture in Abeokuta under the name Williams Bros., dealing in various cotton goods. But as conflicts in Ijebu and Egba disrupted trade routes, they relocated their business to Lagos around 1877. By then, ZA was already affluent, allowing him to marry into wealth by taking the daughter of a prominent Lagos businessman, Thomas Cole, as his wife.

By 1880, ZA had acquired a mansion on the Marina from JPL Davies’s creditors for £850, which he named "Manchester House," and going on to spend an astonishing £5,000 rebuilding it. The home’s grand opening was attended by Colonial Governor Moloney and the Lagos elite, reflecting ZA’s position as one of the city’s foremost figures. Known as Lagos’s best-dressed man, ZA’s status was further evident in his visits to Government House, where he arrived in a boat rowed by uniformed men. Between 1881 and 1885, Williams Bros. paid the highest import duties in Lagos, cementing ZA’s influence in both commerce and society.

MidJourney Prompt: Zachariah Archibald Williams, a wealthy and very well dressed African merchant in Victorian Lagos in the late 19th century. He is on a barge being rowed by uniformed rowers

But almost as quickly as ZA Williams had amassed his fortune, it all fell apart. In 1886, he dissolved his partnership with his brother (and later sued him for £120), continuing the business solo under the Williams Bros. name. Within a year, ZA began selling off properties to cover mounting debts—a testament to the wealth he had accumulated during his brief period of success. For nearly a decade, he continued liquidating his assets, selling property as far as in Ebute Metta. He also borrowed extensively, including from the newly established African Banking Corporation (ABC), and regularly turned to loans and sales to stay afloat.

By 1897, the financial strain became public, with John Randle, Lagos’s first doctor, suing him over an £81 debt, and his former friend Richard Blaize also suing him for £900 in 1902. ZA lamented that by 1897, he was living on £6 and 5 shillings per week, a testament to his chastened status. When he passed away in 1912, he was nearly penniless, drawing a tragic close to a life that had once symbolised prosperity and social prestige in colonial Lagos.

What caused such a reversal in fortune for ZA? As mentioned earlier, without a doubt, trade was very difficult at the time and many merchants suffered. But this does not seem enough to explain ZA’s precipitous decline in fortunes. Professor Hopkins offers an interesting possible explanation, previously not considered:

There is a third, unpublicised possibility that can be culled from the Supreme Court records: Zachariah was seriously ill. Giving evidence under oath in October 1891, he stated that he had been ‘very ill for the past four years’.73 In the following year, he confirmed that he had been ‘suffering from mental depression since May 1887’ and had been obliged to give up his business ‘in consequence’.74 In 1896, again speaking in court, he said that he was ill in 1883, 1886–1887, and in 1895 as well.75 These statements are consistent, given that the third statement is an elaboration of the first two. The picture is one of an illness that first appeared in 1883 and became steadily more serious. Indeed, Thomas Welsh, reporting to John Holt on Zachariah’s voyage to England in 1888, wrote that ‘I heard he had attempted at Accra to commit suicide onboard but failed’.76 Admittedly, this was hearsay, but it fits with what is known of Zachariah’s condition. Dr John Randle provided a medical diagnosis in 1892, when he stated in court that in 1891 Zachariah was ‘suffering from a species of mental depression which rendered his conduct very uncertain’.77 Illness is the explanation closest to the chronology of the collapse of the business and its likely cause, which lay in erratic decision-making at a time when the finest of judgements were needed to keep a large undertaking from being submerged under adverse trading conditions. (Page 212)

His fortune appears to have collapsed under the weight of what we would describe today as mental health problems. At various points, he left the running of the business entirely to his wife, Eleanor.

How did a man who pretty much died poor manage to produce two grandsons who were evidently born into privilege and educated at the best schools in Nigeria and England? The answer is almost certainly Manchester House. In all his trials and tribulations, he just about managed to hold on to his even though he borrowed against it several times. He fought incredibly hard in court to hold on to the property which would have been very attractive to his creditors at the time. When he died, the property passed to his wife and children in his will and she rented it out for income to sustain her. When she died in 1928, the family decided to sell the house and managed to obtain £10,000 for it.

This property, originally acquired in 1863 by JPL Davies for a nominal sum and later bought by ZA for £850, had significantly appreciated over time. Manchester House was the ultimate testament to property as a store of value and the quiet revolution introduced by the colonial authorities—a land title system that granted secure ownership, creating generational wealth even beyond ZA’s own lifetime.

As an American president once said: “Many such cases.” Property investments often proved to be the most enduring and lucrative choices made by merchants of that era, backed by the simple but powerful piece of paper called the Crown Grant. While commodity prices swung wildly and colonial policies could make or break a fortune overnight, real estate seemed steady and far less prone to such viccisitudes. Take James William Cole, also known as "Cole Bamba" (the nickname came from his size. He was a ‘big’ man in every sense of the word). He dabbled in a few businesses, making decent money here and there, but his best decision by far was buying a plot of land in Iddo from one Mumuni in 1876 for just £11. By 1899, Iddo was pegged as the main railway terminus for Lagos, and Carter Bridge soon connected it directly to the rest of the city in 1901. When Cole Bamba passed in 1897, his estate was worth over £20,000—proof of how land could multiply wealth, surpassing the more volatile trades of the day.

The final decade of the century was brutal. A wave of innovation drove commodity prices down, competition ramped up, and amassing a fortune required even greater ingenuity. Many fortunes withered, and as Professor Hopkins details, quite a few once-prominent names couldn’t hold on past the century’s end. British and other European firms didn’t fare much better; several were casualties of this depressing period as well. The Saros saw their influence erode, both from Lagos's population growth, which shrank their relative numbers, and the rise of Islam, which further diluted their sway. Illness and age claimed others, and time wore down even the most resilient.

Yet their descendants have reason to thank them for the one thing that endured: the real estate they left behind.

- Feyi

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The Moneymen: Unlocking the Mystery of Capital

In the eighth chapter, Hopkins presents in-depth case studies of two prominent African merchants, Richard Beale Blaize and Isaac Benjamin Williams, who were successful examples of the adaptive strategy of transitioning from traditional trade into money lending and real estate. This strategic pivot underscores African merchants' limitations in the evolving colonial economy. It illustrates how some could leverage capital and social networks to maintain influence within a restricted commercial environment. These two entrepreneurs played pioneering roles in the emergence of Lagos's capital market, which laid the foundations of modern finance in Nigeria.

The chapter discusses the historical relationship between commerce and banking in African economies. Lagos provides a unique case study where merchants like Blaize and Williams transitioned from trade into property and loans. The context underscores how the capital market evolved to rely on the security provided by property, a shift from more traditional, personal credit arrangements toward more formal, land-backed lending systems.

Richard Beale Blaize

Richard Blaize's beginning was typical of so many other Saro elites who dominated the commercial economy of Lagos. His father was from Ake, in Abeokuta, and was captured by Dahomey slave raiders before being sold to the Portuguese. Richard himself was born in Freetown, and in 1862, when he was seventeen, he moved to Lagos. He was initially a successful merchant in export-import trade and recognized the shifting dynamics in Lagos's economy. With European competition and colonial restrictions in the trading sector, Blaize diversified his business interests, ultimately amassing significant wealth and influence as one of Lagos's most prominent financiers.

Blaize shifted from trade into finance and property, which represented a calculated response to the increasing volatility of the export market. He expanded into real estate, purchasing and leasing property to African traders and settlers, and securing a steady, passive income. This strategy buffered him from the risks that African traders increasingly faced in the export economy. He founded Marina Bank, one of the first local banks, to support his expanding financial ventures. However, the bank operated only briefly before running into troubles that led to its closure. Blaize's success in finance and property allowed him to maintain his wealth and social influence and helped finance his foray into politics. In what was a throwback to his early years as a printing apprentice, he also made investments in newspapers - through which he had some influence on public opinions, especially on issues affecting the African business community.

Isaac Benjamin Williams

Williams’s career started later than Blaize’s, and he initially focused more on trade. However, recognizing the increasing challenges in commerce, he, too, shifted his focus to property and money lending. By 1889, Williams had decided to exit the competitive import trade. He established himself as a personal banker in Lagos, providing loans to local property owners and expanding into the rental property market. He represents a more conservative approach. While moving from trade to finance, Williams avoided high-profile ventures and preferred quieter business dealings. Known for his intelligent money-lending practices, Williams focused on providing small loans to African traders and landowners, often using property as collateral. Williams built a modest but reliable income stream through this method, primarily derived from property rentals and mortgages.

Unlike Blaize, who maintained a high public profile, Williams remained primarily out of the public eye. He avoided direct involvement in political or social movements. Despite his more reserved approach, Williams achieved financial security and stability, leveraging his knowledge of local networks and the Lagos property market.

De Soto's Mystery

The dual biography of the two eminent Lagos entrepreneurs detailed in this chapter is a testament to resilience and adaptiveness in a business environment that has become increasingly uncertain and risky. But it also demonstrates the near-endless possibilities for wealth creation when you create new markets. Richard Blaize and Isaac Williams were the early pioneers and participants in developing new land, property, and credit markets in Lagos. The opportunities this created benefited both these men and helped diversify their sources of wealth — but they also set precedents in the economic history of Nigeria, leading to the establishment of financial institutions like the National Bank of Nigeria and, ultimately, the Lagos Stock Exchange.

I am certain Prof. Hopkins will have more to say about it later in the book, but the critical legal innovation that facilitated these new markets was the formalisation of land ownership through the Crown Grant system - after which lands could be freely purchased, documented, and had their ownership enforced by law. The emergence of land, property, and money markets in Lagos reminded me of the popular Peruvian economist Hernando De Soto, who argued in his famous book, The Mystery of Capital, that capitalism's struggles in many poor societies lie in the inability of these societies to convert their existing assets into productive capital. This failure results in what he terms "dead capital"—assets citizens cannot effectively leverage for economic growth due to the lack of legal property systems.

Although De Soto's argument has shown empirical limitations in specific contexts (especially in agriculture), I believe colonial Lagos represents one of the places where the beauty and enrichment effects of this idea is fully manifested. It also makes me sad about the current state of the land and property markets and how they are ill-suited for challenges like housing shortage, urban congestion, and lack of economic density.

Perhaps learning the history of Lagos can offer some urgent lessons

- Tobi

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