The first few days on campus were chaotic. Before any classes could begin, administrative processes had to take place. In other words, course registration.
Course registration at FUTA, as Daniel quickly discovered, was a multi-layered energy-drainer involving online portals, departmental clearances, faculty approvals, and payments at the bursary.
He moved through it all with quite efficiently, contrasting with some of the more flustered-looking freshers.
His prior experience setting up bank accounts, dealing with agents for property, and managing the RF backend gave him a certain familiarity with bureaucratic procedures.
In other words, he had played these games before.
He'd already completed most of the initial online registration from Abuja. Now, it was about physical verification, form submissions, and navigating the various offices. He joined queues, listened to instructions, and filled out forms, acting like any other student. He made sure to be polite to the administrative staff, a simple "Good morning Ma/Sir" and a patient demeanor was often the difference between getting finished quickly and a hellish experience...
In the queue at the School of Computing (SOC) departmental office, waiting to submit his course form, he overheard some conversations.
"This calculus lecturer, I hear say he wicked die," one student muttered to another.
"Man, this heat is something else. And no fan in this office?"
"Where is the HOD's office again? This campus is too big."
Daniel mostly kept to himself, observing. He exchanged brief, necessary words when it was his turn at a counter.
"Good morning, I'm here to submit my course registration form. Adekunle Daniel, Computer Science."
The clerk, a middle-aged woman looking harassed, took his forms without much comment, stamped them, and handed back his copy. "Next!"
He made the required payments for departmental dues and faculty handbooks instantly since he had prepared cash, bypassing the longer queues at the designated bank branches on campus. Small efficiencies that saved him time and hassle.
The process took the better part of three days, shuttling between buildings, waiting in lines, confirming details. He learned the campus layout quickly, the shortcuts between faculties, the location of the main library, the popular student canteens. It was a world unto itself, teeming with thousands of young people, each with their own aspirations and anxieties.
During the evenings, back in the privacy and air-conditioned comfort of his duplex, Daniel's focus shifted entirely. From a normal student by day, he transformed into the clandestine operator of a rapidly growing financial network by night.
Almost like from Bruce Wayne in the morning to Batman at night.
He'd spend hours on his powerful desktop PC . MH trades continued, being consistently managed. He ran several N1-2 million trades on both crypto and Forex, the profits consistently rolling in, pushing his MH balance closer to the N40 million mark.
Rocket Funds user management was a constant. New sign-ups, payment verifications, guiding users to the correct Telegram channels, and ensuring the withdrawal system was always funded and responsive.
But a new activity began to occupy his late-night hours: drafting the initial blueprint for PeDan Investments. The nine-figure net worth estimate from MH had lit a fire under him. He knew he couldn't keep his wealth purely digital or hidden behind nominee accounts indefinitely. He needed legitimate businesses, real-world assets, and a corporate structure that could plausibly explain his future affluence.
He started by outlining key investment sectors he was interested in:
- Nigerian Tech Startups: Leveraging his Computer Science background and MH's analytical power to identify high-potential early-stage companies.
- Real Estate Development: Beyond personal properties, looking into commercial and residential development projects in Lagos and Abuja initially, then international eventually.
- Agriculture Technology (AgriTech): A growing sector in Nigeria with significant potential.
- FinTech: Given MH's nature, investing in legitimate FinTech companies felt like a natural fit, perhaps even a way to subtly integrate some of MH's less fantastical (but still advanced) analytical capabilities into a legitimate business later on.
He created mind maps, researched company registration processes for a proper Limited Liability Company (he'd need to be 18 to be a full director, but he could start the groundwork), and began outlining a five-year growth strategy. He even started sketching out potential branding ideas for PeDan – logos, color schemes, a mission statement.
MH played a crucial role in this planning phase. He fed it publicly available data on various Nigerian market sectors, company financials (where available), and economic forecasts. Through the admin console, he'd type in analytical requests:
"Analyze top 10 emerging tech startups in Lagos by growth potential and risk factor."
"Project ROI for mid-scale residential real estate development in Lekki Phase 2 over 5 years."
"Identify key vulnerabilities and opportunities in Nigerian AgriTech supply chain."
MH would process for a few moments, then output concise reports, probability scores, and even suggest potential due diligence questions. It was like having an entire M&A department at his fingertips.
He hadn't taken any concrete action yet – no actual investments made, and no company formally incorporated beyond the business name. This was the strategic planning phase, laying the intellectual foundation for his future empire. The money was there, growing daily. Now, it was about building the legitimate structures to hold and multiply it.