Dangote’s three daughters and the African girl

Aliko Dangote said something recently that caught my attention. When asked whether he still wanted a son to inherit his business empire, Africa’s richest man said having a male child was no longer a priority. He believes his three daughters can preserve and even expand what he has built.

“Even if I had a son, I don’t think the son would have done better than these three daughters that I have,” Dangote told ARISE News. Given that such a view came from a man who has built one of Africa’s largest industrial groups, that statement became news. Also, the view drew attention because it challenged a belief that has created problems in many African families for generations.

Some other factors made Dangote’s view weighty. Dangote is a Muslim from Kano, where, as in many parts of Nigeria, traditional expectations about male inheritance are entrenched. His daughters, Mariya, Halima and Fatima, are not merely waiting to inherit their father’s wealth. They already hold important positions in his companies.

Mariya is Group Executive Director, Commercial Operations for the Cement and Foods businesses. She has experience in strategy and risk management, a law degree from Bayero University, Kano, and an MBA from Coventry University. She also serves on company boards.

On her part, Halima oversees the Dangote Family Office and the group’s international offices in Dubai and London. She began her career at KPMG, joined the Dangote organisation in 2008 and has an MBA. She has also attended executive programmes at Harvard, Kellogg and Columbia.

Then, Fatima is Group Executive Director responsible for Commercial Operations in Oil and Gas, West Africa Exploration and Production and Fertiliser. She studied law at the University of Surrey, worked at Banwo & Ighodalo and attended executive programmes at Columbia, Wharton and Cambridge. Earlier this year, Dangote expanded their responsibilities as part of his succession planning.

He has said that one of them could eventually lead the conglomerate. He believes each is capable of doing so. For a man whose name is attached to such enormous wealth, that is a public vote of confidence in his daughters.

Let’s look at what happens in many African families. A man may have five daughters and still hear people say he has no heir. Relatives sympathise with him because he has “only girls.” Some men take another wife in the hope of having a son. Some make their wife to continue getting pregnant with the hope of having a son, even if it is dangerous for the woman.

Worse still, women are sometimes blamed or humiliated for giving birth only to daughters. Yet it is the father’s chromosome that determines whether a child is biologically male or female. The woman who has already endured pregnancy and childbirth is made to carry the blame for something she does not control.

The same preference often follows children into adulthood. A family business may pass to a son who has shown little interest or skill, while a daughter who helped build it is pushed aside. Inheritance can become a question of sex rather than ability. The irony is that the daughter may have spent years keeping the books, dealing with customers and solving problems while her brother showed little interest. Yet when the founder dies, the family suddenly remembers that he is the son and rightful heir.

Dangote himself raised that danger. “You can pray for God to give you a son,” he said, “but that son might be the one to bring down the name of the family.” A son does not automatically become a good business leader because he bears his father’s name. Similarly, a daughter does not become less capable because she is female.

There is another reason I find Dangote’s position interesting. He comes from northern Nigeria, where getting girls into school has remained a serious challenge. UNICEF’s Girls’ Education Project documented large gender gaps in basic education across the region, with many girls excluded from schooling.

• Dangote extends refinery IPO to attract more African investors
• Dangote Refinery targets 1.4m barrels per day capacity by 2029 – Dangote
• FULL LIST: Four Nigerians among Forbes Africa’s 15 icons for 2026

It would be wrong to argue that Islam opposes girls’ education or that northern Nigerian families think alike, because in many Islamic countries like the UAE, Saudi Arabia, Indonesia, Malaysia, Iran and Bangladesh, girls go to school in large numbers. Muslim parents, teachers, traditional rulers and organisations in Northern Nigeria have spent years encouraging girls to attend school. Northern Muslim women have also distinguished themselves in medicine, law, education, business and public service.

But anti-Western campaigns, poverty, early marriage and restrictive social expectations continue to keep many girls out of classrooms. In some communities, parents still need convincing that educating a daughter is as worthwhile as educating a son.

The situation became even more frightening with Boko Haram’s campaign against Western education. The extremist group attacked schools, killed teachers and students and abducted children. Human Rights Watch documented more than 900 schools destroyed and at least 611 teachers killed between 2009 and 2015. On April 14, 2014, Boko Haram abducted 276 girls from Government Girls Secondary School in Chibok, Borno State. Those girls were targeted while pursuing an education. Boko Haram’s then leader, Abubakar Shekau, condemned Western schooling for girls, and the group promoted an ideology that restricted women’s opportunities.

Now consider the example Dangote is setting. Here is a man from Kano whose three daughters studied at universities, gained professional experience and now manage important parts of a major African conglomerate. Their father is telling the public that a son would not necessarily have done better.

Imagine a girl in Kano, Kaduna, Katsina, Sokoto, Borno or Zamfara hearing that. She can study law, business, engineering or whatever interests her. She can manage a company, make decisions and lead people. Being born female need not determine the limits of her ambition.

Furthermore, there is a question here for fathers. If Dangote can entrust substantial business responsibilities to his daughters, why should another father refuse to educate his daughter because she will eventually marry? Why should a capable daughter be passed over in a family business merely because she has a brother?

Of course, the Dangote daughters were born into extraordinary privilege. Their educational and professional opportunities are beyond the reach of millions of Nigerian girls. We should not pretend that every girl can simply follow their path without confronting poverty, insecurity and unequal access to education.

It is also important to note that Dangote did not say that one of his daughters must become chief executive simply because she is his child. He has spoken about professional management and governance that will protect the companies from destructive family interference. That is an important distinction: replacing preference for sons with automatic preference for daughters would not be progress.

The better principle is to educate and prepare children without allowing gender to decide their future. Give them opportunities to learn, work and prove themselves. Then let competence and character count when responsibility is assigned.

Dangote is wealthy enough to follow almost any tradition he chooses. Yet he says having a son is not his priority, and he has put his daughters in positions where they can demonstrate what they can do. That choice may prompt other parents to reconsider what they expect of their daughters. The lesson is not that every daughter must run the family business. Rather, it is that she should not be ruled out before anyone has considered her ability. That should be obvious, but in too many homes it is still a difficult conversation.

Mariya, Halima and Fatima may not have inherited the Dangote empire yet. But they have already received their father’s confidence in their ability, which is very important. Every African daughter deserves that confidence, whether her father owns a conglomerate or a small shop.