A celebrated music video director, whose credits include Grammy-winning visuals for global superstars, has returned to Nigeria to face a family legacy buried for decades. Sources confirm the director, who asked not to be named pending official statements, has uncovered evidence that his grandfather played a significant role in the Biafran war — not as a soldier, but as a financier.
Documents obtained by this newsroom detail transactions routed through shell companies in Switzerland and Panama. They show that the grandfather, a prominent businessman in Lagos in the late 1960s, funnelled funds to Biafran separatists. The sums, worth millions in today’s currency, were disguised as payments for cocoa exports. But the trail leads to arms purchases and logistics support for the breakaway state.
Family folklore had painted the grandfather as a neutral trader, surviving the war by selling essentials to both sides. The truth, per these records, is more complicated. He was deeply embedded in the Biafran supply chain. The discovery came to light when the director inherited a trunk of his grandfather’s papers after his father’s death. Within were ledgers, letters, and coded cables. A forensic accountant later confirmed the money trail.
Why now? The director has been making a documentary about the Biafran war for two years. He told friends he wanted to understand the conflict that shaped his family. Instead, he found his grandfather’s fingerprints on the war machine. The director is reportedly shaken but determined to publish his findings. He has hired a London-based investigative journalist to corroborate the documents.
The Biafran war, which ended in 1970 after three years of brutal conflict, is a sensitive subject in Nigeria. Many families have unresolved histories. The director’s grandfather died in 1985, never speaking of his war role. But the paper trail now speaks louder than silence. The director’s grandmother, still alive at 96, has refused to comment. Neighbours in Lagos say she has been in seclusion since the director arrived.
This revelation carries risks. The director has received what he calls “polite warnings” from anonymous callers advising him to drop the documentary. Nigerian authorities have not commented. The British government, which backed the Nigerian side during the war, has no record of the grandfather’s activities in its declassified files. But private archives tell a different story.
The director’s discovery is a reminder that the wounds of Biafra are still raw. In London, where the director lives, Nigerian diaspora groups have already begun debating the ethics of exposing family secrets. Some praise his honesty. Others accuse him of airing dirty laundry. The director says he owes the truth to the millions who died. He plans to release the documentary next year, with or without official approval.
This story will develop. Our sources confirm more documents are being examined. The grandfather’s network may still be operating. For now, one thing is clear: a Grammy-winning director returned to his roots and found a war he never knew his family funded. The legacy of Biafra is not just in textbooks. It is in ledgers, in coded cables, in the silence of the old. And it is now in the hands of a man who makes music videos for a living.
