Few names command respect across both the boardroom and the classroom like Dr. MutiuSunmonu, CON. From humble beginnings in Abeokuta, Ogun State, to the highest echelons of corporate leadership, Dr. Sunmonu’s life is a study in vision, discipline, and purposeful impact. A first-class graduate of Mathematics and Computer Science from the University of Lagos, his early brilliance foreshadowed an illustrious career that would span continents and redefine corporate excellence.
Joining Shell in 1978 as a Computer Programmer/Business Analyst, Dr. Sunmonu rose steadily through the ranks, culminating in his appointment as Managing Director of Shell Petroleum Development Company (SPDC) and later as Country Chair, Shell Companies in Nigeria. With over three decades of leadership at one of the world’s most influential energy companies, he left a legacy of innovation, integrity, and inclusive growth.
Since his retirement in 2015, Dr. Sunmonu has continued to wield his influence as a boardroom statesman, guiding companies across diverse sectors including oil and gas, financial services, FMCG, and construction. His board roles at ChampionX, Coronation (Wapic) Insurance, Unilever Nigeria, Air Peace, and others reflect his enduring relevance in Nigeria’s economic landscape. As Co-Founder of The Sage Center for Leadership Excellence, he is actively shaping the next generation of African leaders with a rare blend of character, competence, and courage.
A recipient of the national honour of Commander of the Order of the Niger (CON) and multiple honorary doctorates, Dr. Sunmonu’s contributions to national development extend far beyond the boardroom.
In this interview with Azuka Ogujuiba,Dr. Sunmonu reflects on the lessons from his early years, the pivotal decisions that shaped his career, the urgent need for governance reform in Nigeria, and why leadershipwithout characteris a hollow pursuit.
Growing up in Abeokuta and attending Lisabi Grammar School, what values or lessons from your early life have stayed with you throughout your journey?
I had come from the North and was just 11 when I was thrown into a boarding house—still in Primary Six. My father believed it was best to start my secondary education early in the South. Being among older students while still in primary school was great training. I had to fight for myself. The dining hall was rowdy, and seniors did their own thing. I quickly learned to be more assertive.After that year, I moved to Lisabi Grammar School. One thing that stayed with me was my father’s words: “Now that you’re in secondary school, you have to maintain your academic performance.” That was my early lesson in what we now call KPIs. He said I wasn’t to go below third position in class. In my first term, I came third. He said, “Good, but improve.” Second term, I came second. Third term, I took first. It taught me to track progress and push myself. That was my first real experience of independent living—being responsible for my outcomes
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What was that a turning point for youwhere you told yourself, “I must make it”?
To be honest, I think the kind of coaching I got from my father at such a young age is the best example of good parenting. He would make sure we took walks together in the evening even before I was in secondary school. When we lived in Offa or Kafanchan, we’d go on evening walks, and he’d talk to me about life: what to do, what not to do, and the importance of education. As far as he was concerned, education was everything. He used to say, “If you don’t get it right, forget about any decent living.” He drilled into us that we must study hard and get a solid education. In his view, there were only three acceptable professions: doctor, engineer, or lawyer. These days, we don’t really do that kind of rigid guidance anymore, but for me, it created a solid foundation.
what sparked your passion for mathematics and computer science? How did that shape your ambitions?
I think I had a natural ability with numbers. Even in primary school, I always did well in arithmetic. In secondary school, my maths grades were consistently strong. At some point, I realisedmaths was my strongest subject. I would aim to score as close to 100% as possible because I knew that in subjects like history or geography, I wasn’t as confident. I used maths to balance out the rest. It became my anchor—and I stayed focused on it. Even in university, I felt I could make a first-class in mathematics with my eyes closed. It came naturally to me. So, I decided to hone that strength.
Did you end up studying mathematics at university?
Yes, I studied Mathematics and Computer Science at the University of Lagos.
Graduating with a first-class degree from UNILAG is a major achievement. How did that moment influence your career trajectory?
I remember that evening so vividly. I had gone to the Shrine, I love Fela’s music and used to go there once a week. That evening, after finishing my final exams, I went to relax. When I got back to my hostel room, someone started banging on my door: “Mutiu! The result is out you made a first class!” I was so excited. I felt so fulfilled. The first thing I thought was how I wished I could call my father immediately. I knew how proud he would be. The next day, I went to P&T and called my dad at work. He was overjoyed. And that moment solidified my belief: I was going to be a university professor. That was my plan.
To become a professor?
Yes, I wanted to lecture and eventually become a professor.
How and why did that change?
It was fate. While others applied for jobs, I stayed focused on pursuing a PhD and lecturing. But during NYSC in Lagos, I visited a friend whose brother introduced me to a Shell contact. When I mentioned my first-class in Mathematics and Computer Science, he gave me a card and told me to visit 40 Marina for a test and interview. That’s how Shell entered the picture.The day I got Shell’s offer was the same day I received a Commonwealth scholarship to study at Waterloo. Conflicted, I deferred the scholarship and started at Shell. I later asked a UNILAG professor for a recommendation. He warned, “With your background, go into industry.” I insisted, and he signed.But Shell’s programme was intense, and I missed key scholarship deadlines. Eventually, Waterloo cancelled my admission. I took it as a sign and committed fully to my Shell career.
What strategies helped you lead through the complex corporate environment, especially in a resource-rich but politically dynamic region like Nigeria?
I think I wouldn’t call it strategy, to be honest. I call it grace. And I will also attribute my success in Shell to the people around me. I had good mentors who were always directing and guiding me. I wasn’t initially a very corporate person. As a young man, I didn’t take work that seriously. But I had people who told me, “This is what you do. This is what you don’t do.” One of my earliest challenges in Shell was having supervisors constantly checking in when I was given an assignment. If you assign me a task and give a deadline, just leave me to it. But I had supervisors who would come every morning to check in.
Was it because you were very young?
Maybe. I was very young compared to my supervisor then. It began to irritate me. I knew when I was supposed to deliver, so why was this woman always on my neck? But I also had other more mature supervisors who were supportive. I remember one instance where my overall boss asked me for a memo, which I couldn’t find. In my youthful arrogance, I thought I’d just tell him I lost it. I mentioned it to a mentor, who advised me against that approach. He said, “Check who else was copied on the memo.” I remembered Mr. Benko had a copy. I went to him and got the memo. That mentor saved the day and taught me not to treat work with levity. You take it seriously, and when there is a problem, you find a solution. Those early teachings were so helpful, and I’m still friends with some of those bosses today.
Working across both local and international branches of Shell must have exposed you to diverse work cultures and regulatory environments. How did those differences shape your understanding of global corporate operations?
First, Shell is a great employer. If I came back again, I would still want to work for Shell. They train you and try to provide equal opportunities, even though it’s a foreign company. It’s still a human system, but they try their best. I served in Aberdeen, and that was my first real exposure to workplace discrimination—not organizational, but individual biases. It wasn’t structural, but you could feel the difference. Nigerians in Aberdeen could sense it. But we focused on the job, and over time, people who were once distant started to warm up. So, I learned to let my work speak for me. Aberdeen also taught me about work-life balance. Offices would be empty by 4 p.m., unlike in Nigeria where people stayed until 7 or 8. I once worked over the weekend and the security guards reported me to my boss. It was a wake-up call: life isn’t all about work.
As Managing Director of SBDC and Country Chair of Shell Nigeria, what legacy do you believe you left behind?
I believe my legacy is good leadership. I allowed people around me to experience humane, effective leadership. I was accessible, supportive, and honest. Sometimes I told people, “You’re not coping on this job. Go home, reflect, and come back to talk.” Some returned and said, “Mutiu, thank you. No one ever respected me enough to be this honest.”
What keeps you motivated in the boardroom today?
I’m a natural change agent. I thrive in organizations that are struggling or pivoting, not stable ones. Whatever the business is, it’s about people, strategy, and process.
What common governance gaps have you observed in Nigerian corporate structures?
Many see board membership as a status symbol rather than a responsibility. In Nigeria, people believe being on a board gives you power to override executives. To me, a board member should be a coach, not just an enforcer. Some scream at their MDs during meetings. I prefer working collaboratively. The second gap is a disregard for governance practices. Some shareholders misuse governance structures for selfish interests. Board members must defend governance integrity. Third, there are too many shareholder-appointed directors. I prefer more independent directors who serve the business, not personal agendas.
What inspired you to co-found The Sage Center for Leadership Excellence?
My wife gifted it to me for my 70th. She noticed I mentored many people privately and felt I should expand access.
What long-term impact do you envision for the Sage Center?
It’s just the beginning. We hope to collaborate with other leadership centers and change the leadership mindset. A big focus will be character. Leadership without character is hollow.
You’re deeply involved in education. From Bloombreed Schools to MacPherson University and your foundation. What drives this commitment?
Since the ’80s, I was concerned about population growth and education quality. My wife also wanted to start a nursery school. We started a school to make an impact.
If you could reimagine Nigeria’s education system, what would your top priorities be?
First, high-quality teacher training. Second, restoring respect for teachers. Third, reviving technical education. Everyone wants a white-collar job. Nobody wants to learn trades like plumbing or carpentry anymore.
What is the long-term vision for the MutiuSunmonu Foundation?
I set it up to give structure to my philanthropy. I don’t know the full impact it will have in 20 years, but I believe resources are meant to serve humanity.
What’s your outlook on Nigeria’s futureeconomically, socially, and educationally?
The outlook for now is frightening. But we cannot give up on Nigeria. We must all come together to develop Nigeria. We all can make an impact here and there, and by the time we pull it all together, we’ll be amazed at how impactful our individual and collective contributions can be.
What is your general opinion about the Gen Z generation, their approach to life, their seemingly nonchalant attitude, and the way they do things? Do you have any advice?
Well, I don’t think we can blame them. We created the environment that shaped those attitudes. Even as parents, we indulged them without fully understanding what the consequences would be. And now, we can’t just reverse it. What we need to do is find ways to slowly introduce sensibility into their thinking.
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