What Ghanaian entrepreneurs can learn from the Chinese

I never expected a casual trip to China to become a revelation about power, strategy and intelligence.

It was there, amid bustling factories and corridors of corporate decision-makers, that I met Oliver Chan. 

The experience left me simultaneously astonished and frustrated, not because of admiration alone, but because it highlighted a painful truth about Africa and Ghana in particular, and why we continue to lag behind in trade, industry and strategy.

Mr Chan, in his early-sixties, exudes quiet authority. He is not flamboyant, does not shout about wealth, and yet commands influence that most African leaders would kill to possess.

Here is a man whose ideas and strategies are meticulously calculated, where every conversation, every handshake, and every proposal has a long-term, multi-layered objective.

I realised quickly that what we call “business” in Africa, with our endless meetings, promises and debates, would appear amateurish in his world.

During our meeting, he outlined a vision for Ghana, a country that prides itself on its peaceful environment but is riddled with inefficiency, political myopia and a lack of strategic discipline.

He spoke of phased industrial projects: assembly plants, agricultural machinery, EV batteries, EV cars, agrochemical production, and even large-scale ramie cultivation for export. 

Investor pitch

On paper, it seemed like any ordinary investor pitch, but the layers of detail, the understanding of logistics, supply chains, and the African market revealed a mind that treats strategy as a chess game, not a game of chance.

What struck me most was his observation of the so-called “West African market.” He did not just talk about Ghana in isolation; he had studied traders across Lagos, Accra and Abidjan. 

He knew how value chains operated, who controlled distribution, where corruption allowed inefficiency to thrive, and how delays were exploited.

And yet, he did not criticise lightly; he approached it like a scientist studying a specimen clinically, which was precise and frankly shocking.

The painful lesson is that while Chinese men like him study our systems, we continue to operate in reactive mode.

Most African businessmen treat trade as a transaction, not as a system.

They negotiate deals as if success comes from persuasion alone, not from understanding networks, capital flows, or behavioural tendencies.

The irony is that while we pride ourselves on entrepreneurial spirit, 99 per cent of traders are unaware that strategy is a science; one that can be learned, analysed and applied.

I found myself on the receiving end of uncomfortable truths.

He asked: “Why do you wait for government approvals like a beggar?

Why is your industrial strategy dependent on political whims?

Why do you import what you can produce?

Why is your supply chain so fragile?” 

Africa’s stagnation

Each question was a mirror reflecting Africa’s stagnation.

And the answer was painfully obvious: we have allowed mediocrity to masquerade as capability.

We have normalised delay, tolerated inefficiency, and celebrated connections over competence. What made it even more striking was the clarity with which he approached Ghana.

He praised the political stability under President John Mahama’s era, recognising that peace is a commodity we underestimate.

Unlike most Africans, he did not complain about “African inefficiency”; he calculated how to turn it into an opportunity.

And yet, even as he spoke of opportunities, I noticed the contempt for the lack of understanding among local players.

To him, we are a market, not partners, until we prove we can match precision with execution.

His proposed projects were not just “businesses”; they were lessons in structured thinking.

Phase one focused on energy infrastructure by assembling transformers, smart meters and solar systems.

Phase two dived into industrial production, EV batteries, EV cars and agrochemicals. 

Phase three was revolutionary in its simplicity and scale: ramie cultivation, fibre processing and global exports.

Each phase built on the previous, creating a cascading effect that ensures control, scalability and profit.

It was a system designed for results, not headlines.

Reading between the lines, I realised the provocative truth: we are still operating in a pre-industrial mindset, while foreign players treat our markets like laboratories.

The audacity is not in their investments, it is in the meticulous, almost ruthless intelligence applied to what we consider normal trade. 
Measure is everything

They measure everything: labour efficiency, import cost, logistics, risk and even human psychology.

And we? We bicker over petty politics, celebrate minimal profit margins and call it entrepreneurship.

I left that meeting both humbled and enraged. Humbled because I saw how strategy, intellect, and patience could conquer markets faster than capital alone.

Enraged because I recognised how easily Africa’s own potential is squandered.

Here we are, rich in resources, human capital and culture, yet we remain spectators in our own markets. People like Oliver Chan are not merely investors, they are living evidence of a systemic gap we refuse to acknowledge.

This is where provocation is necessary.

African businessmen need to be shaken from the complacency that has become their comfort zone.

Stop thinking that trade is only about deals; it is about systems, networks and foresight.

Stop believing that connections trump competence; intelligence applied over time will outmanoeuvre favouritism every single time. 

Stop tolerating mediocrity; the world does not wait for Africa to catch up. Let me be clear: this is not about promoting Chinese investors. It is about highlighting a wake-up call.

I met a man who could have written off Ghana entirely, but instead, he calculated a path to transform industry and society. 

What does that say about us?

That we are so predictable, so slow, so uninspired, that someone can study us as if we were a lab experiment?

That, my readers, should make you sit up and perhaps even get on your knees, not in worship but in self-reflection.

If you wonder why foreign traders dominate African markets, the answer is simple: intelligence, patience and systems. Not luck.

Not connections. Not noise.

And if we continue to ignore these lessons, we will continue to watch opportunities pass us by, blaming inefficiency or politics while missing the real reason: we do not think systematically, and we do not act strategically.

Meeting Oliver Chan was a mirror and a challenge. It was a lesson wrapped in discomfort.

It was a reminder that intelligence without arrogance can dominate complacency.

And it was a revelation that Africa’s future belongs not to those who wait for miracles, but to those willing to think, plan and execute beyond the limits of inherited mediocrity.

The intelligent Chinese men do not need to shout.

They do not need to flaunt wealth.

They study, calculate and act.

And until Africa internalises that, our markets, our industries, and our wealth will remain lessons for someone else’s strategy.