“If you have a gun, you can rob a bank. But if you have a bank, you can rob anybody.”

She smiled at the irony of the statement. She had seen it in a Black Mask comic that her son had downloaded to her tablet.

“It’s funny that the place people put their money for safe-keeping is unsafe,” she said aloud.

But that was not what was bothering her. She needed to get to the pinnacle of her career, and the MD was in the way. He had made it clear to her that he wanted another woman from a different bank as the Chief Risk Officer. She had been in an acting capacity for almost 6 months now, and if the other woman was employed, she would have no choice but to resign.

“I can’t work under her after I’ve tasted the power and benefit of this office.”

Fortunately, all was not lost.

The bank’s chairman through one of the Executive Directors had reached out to her over three weeks ago. The Board meeting was coming up soon, if she played ball, the chairman had assured her she would be confirmed as the Chief Risk Officer.

“All you have to do is to ensure the loan requests that the chairman is interested in, are recommended for approval from your end,” the Executive Director had stated.

Now she had a US$10 million Vessel Finance Facility before her. She knew what she had to do.

Her intercom buzzed, ”Ma, Emeka is here to see you,” said her secretary.

“Send him in,” she replied.

Emeka entered the grand-looking office and his legs sank into the thick blue rug that covered the floor of the office. His eyes opened wide at the opulent taste on show in the office. He had not been to the office since she became the acting CRO.

She was seated on a blue-black ergonomic chair behind a black L-shaped gold-plated glass top desk. There was an open Apple Macbook, a family portrait, a gold globe, two desktop phones, and some files on the table. There was a glass cabinet behind her that contained official documents and a flip chart whiteboard on her right, which partly covered the large window that overlooked the Lagos Lagoon. There were two black office chairs in front of her table, while on Emeka’s right and behind the door into the office were a light brown two-seater sofa, a gold-plated small glass table, and a standing fridge freezer. On his left was a brown tree-like bookcase with some fanciful-looking books, and a 65-inch flat-screen TV on the wall.

“Good morning ma.”

“How are you?”

“Fine ma.”

“Please sit down.”

“Thank you ma.”

“You worked on this Vessel finance facility,” She stated.

“Yes ma,” Emeka answered.

“I have noted your concerns. But how can we make the loan approvable?”

“My HOD and unit head didn’t support it ma.”

“Yes, I know. I spoke to your Unit Head and he said that since you are the first reviewer and you didn’t recommend approval, he didn’t want to counter your points.”

They locked eyes for a moment. Emeka looked away.

“I understand that being a risk analyst, you are trained to point out what could go wrong. But you should realise that most loan requests are business and investment decisions. So it takes someone who as done business before to understand that we don’t make money by avoiding risks. We make money mitigating the risks. You would understand better if and when you start your own business,” She explained.

“But ma, the general outlook is that Oil prices will soon crash. If and when that happens, the revenue projections from the operations of the vessel would be unattainable,” Emeka replied.

“Did you listen to anything that I said?” She snapped.

“Yes ma.”

“The bank makes money by lending money. If we don’t lend, do you think there will be money to continue to pay you?”

“Ma, for this particular request, I think…”

“You are not paid to think. If you want to think, wait until you own a bank. For now, do as you are told.”

Emeka said nothing.

“Were you promoted?”

“No ma.”

“Well, this kind of analysis is probably why your unit head did not recommend you for promotion. And if you continue like this, you will leave me with no choice but to send you to HR that you are unfit to be a Risk Analyst.” She paused and continued, “here is the file. Make this loan request approvable, and I want it back within one hour. Is that clear?”

“Yes ma.”

“Good. Have a nice day Emeka.”

“Thank you ma.”

He rose from the chair with the file in his hand and exited her office.

“I can’t afford to let one small analyst pour sand in my garri,” she said to herself. “Whatever it takes, I must be confirmed as the Chief Risk Officer.”

Extract from “How to rob a bank,” by Olumide Holloway (King Olulu)