Nigeria is a country of broken promises. Grand projects announced with fanfare vanish into silence. Ministries produce reports no one reads.
Entrepreneurs launch apps that solve problems nobody has, while the real ones, power, land, data, and trust, remain neglected. And yet, something different is taking root in Cross River State.
There, Augustine Ugi is not launching another “disruptive” startup. He is not chasing valuations or investor hype. He is doing something far more radical: building systems that work.
In 2016, Ugi founded Nugi Technologies with a modest goal: to create software that solved real problems in real government offices. One such product, 360 Governance, digitised payments and records for Cross River State, replacing paper files, plugging leakages, and quietly becoming a trusted part of the bureaucracy. Another platform brought transparency to tax collection. These weren’t flashy innovations; they were practical fixes for a broken machine. And because they were built for Nigeria’s realities, they stuck.
From that small beginning, a handful of engineers in Calabar grew a team of over 70, with offices in Lagos, Abuja, and the UK. At that point, most founders would have cashed out, franchised the model, or gone global. But Ugi chose a different path.
He didn’t want to scale a software company. He wanted to scale impact.
So he created Nugi Group, not a single firm, but an ecosystem of independent companies, each tackling a different bottleneck in Nigeria’s economy:
Nugi Technologies: The flagship ICT arm, delivering enterprise software, e-governance tools, cloud services, and innovations like Syncventory and QLoop.
Nugi Innovations: Trains young Africans with future-ready tech skills.
Nugi Farms: Modern agribusiness improving food security and farmer livelihoods.
Nugi City Limited: Real estate and urban development for smart, liveable cities.
7Frames Media: A creative media and film company shaping Africa’s stories.
Dobenat Limited: Broadband and internet infrastructure, including data centre and cybersecurity services.
525Systems: Systems integration across network engineering, solar, media, and product design.
O2 Constructions: Builds housing, commercial spaces, and smart infrastructure.
Terragrid Analytics: Geospatial mapping and drone-based land analytics.
Each venture grew from a problem Ugi encountered, not in a boardroom, but in the field. His philosophy? “Every time I enter a new space, I ask myself: can we do it better? If we can’t, we have no business being there.”
That mindset is rare in Nigeria, where too many accept dysfunction as fate. Ugi sees it as a design flaw, and he’s fixing it, one system at a time.
At the heart of this vision is a 370-hectare Tech City, anchored by a Tier-4 data centre, the kind of infrastructure that banks, fintechs, and public institutions need to operate securely. However, unlike most Nigerian megaprojects, which are often announced with press conferences and presidential visits, this one is being built in silence, with land secured, power sources confirmed, and financing lined up.
It will run on four energy sources: hydroelectric power from a nearby waterfall, natural gas, solar energy, and the national grid, backed by battery storage. Why? Because Ugi understands that digital sovereignty means physical reliability. “If we’re serious about localising data,” he says, “we need infrastructure that can handle it.”
Around the data centre, plans are unfolding: an agritech estate, housing for young professionals, and a commercial hub. This isn’t just a tech park. It’s a self-sustaining ecosystem, a prototype for what Nigerian development could look like when it’s led by builders, not bureaucrats.
And yet, for all its ambition, scepticism is warranted. Nigeria has a long history of grand plans that often fail to materialise. But Ugi is not repeating those mistakes. He’s laying foundations first: land ownership, government partnerships, and private-sector backing, including a leading financial institution. He knows that vision without stewardship is just noise.
His personal story only deepens the weight of his mission. Living with sickle-cell anaemia, he has learnt to press forward through chronic pain. When his school funds ran out, he paid his own way. When he disagreed with the direction of a company he had helped build, he walked away, not for ego, but for the sake of integrity.
These are not biographical details. They are the source code of his resilience.
He admits Nugi Group may one day approach a billion-dollar valuation, but for him, success is measured differently. Can infrastructure attract investment? Can young Nigerians lead complex projects? Can businesses align their profits with national development?
“I want to build systems that outlive me,” he says.
That line should be inscribed on the walls of every ministry, every university, and every boardroom in Nigeria.
Because the country’s greatest crisis is not corruption, or power, or insecurity, though all are urgent. It is the absence of enduring systems. We have people, we have ideas, and we have capital, but we lack the long-term stewardship needed to turn them into lasting institutions.
Augustine Ugi is testing whether that can change.
He is not a politician. He is not seeking applause. He is not building for exit. He is building for permanence.
And in a nation addicted to shortcuts, that may be the most revolutionary act of all.
