The Multi-Million Deal That Never Was
- owusunhyira
- Oct 13
- 2 min read

Some deals teach you more by collapsing than by closing.
In 2016, Nsano was breaking out of survival mode—expanding into new markets and ready to go pan-African.
Then came AA (I'll call him that), a man whose confidence filled every room he entered. He promised to take us continental. I believed him—for a while.
Back then, I believed raising investment meant we'd made it. Time proved me wrong.
Our first meeting was at his mansion, the kind designed to impress. Every detail calculated to instill confidence.
I told him Nsano's vision: build Africa's payment backbone. Geography was critical—continental reach required investment in licensing, rails, and travel. None of it cheap.
Then came the offer—access to a Pan-African Bank's network and $2 million for 50% of Nsano. It felt like the door we'd been waiting for—access, funding, and reach in one.
"Fifty percent of a billion-dollar business is still $500 million," I told myself. The math made sense. So, we went ahead.
As due diligence dragged on, the sheen faded. ATH, his company, wasn't as structured as it claimed. AA's promises began to ring hollow.
I called a few trusted peers. One said quietly, "Be careful, Kofi. His record isn't clean." My fears confirmed, I froze.
Still, my upbringing pulled me toward honour. A man's word, after all, is his bond. And we'd already signed an MOU.
I pushed forward, even as my spirit pulled back.
We structured the deal carefully: Funds must hit escrow. The bank partnership must be signed. Only then would shares transfer.
On signing day, Gideon, our lawyer, and I waited three hours. A woman who knew Gideon stopped by and, learning why we were there, whispered, "Be careful.”
When AA finally appeared, something in his tone had changed—as though he already owned us.
My heart sank. I signed anyway. My hand moved; my heart did not.
I went home in a daze that night and prayed the deal would fail.
Thankfully, the one-week deadline passed without the money or the bank's signature.
At 5:00 p.m. sharp, I hit Send:
"You're in breach of contract. Our lawyers will advise, but the deal is off."
The next morning, AA's associate called with new terms—completely different from what we'd signed.
AA allegedly had a pattern. He targeted desperate founders, made promises he never intended to keep, then renegotiated from a position of control. We’d almost become another company in his collection.
I refused.
Nsano would rise on its own steam.
We learned these lessons:
*Validation doesn't come from investors. It comes from solving real problems
*Due diligence cuts both ways. Assess character as much as capital
*When your gut feels uneasy, listen. It's data
*Ownership, once lost, rarely returns
When we say we've never raised external capital, it's not pride—it's a lesson we learned the hard way. Today, Nsano operates across the very markets that deal once promised—over 30 countries.
The shortcut would have cost us everything.






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