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Nothing Last Forever: The Rise And Fall of Ragolis Water – And A Lesson for Us All
By Andrew Gbise
There was a time in Nigeria when Ragolis Water was not just a brand — it was the brand. A symbol of class, quality, and trust. In the 1980s and 1990s, asking for bottled water in Nigeria often meant one thing: “Buy Ragolis.” That’s how powerful and ubiquitous the brand was.
Launched in 1981 through a joint venture between Nigeria’s Chagoury Group and France’s Société des Eaux de Volvic, Ragolis Water tapped into a natural spring in Ikorodu, Lagos. By 1984, it had kicked into full production, becoming Nigeria’s first plastic bottled water brand with ISO certification.
For decades, Ragolis stood as a trailblazer in the bottled water industry. By the 2010s, it was producing over 2 million litres per month, expanding distribution across major Nigerian cities — from Lagos to Abuja, Warri to Port Harcourt, and Kano to Enugu. Ragolis sat comfortably at the pinnacle of the industry.
But then, everything changed.
The bottled water market grew crowded. Heavyweights like Eva (Coca-Cola), Nestlé Pure Life, Aquafina, and CWay entered the scene, armed with aggressive marketing, nationwide logistics, and deep financial backing. Ragolis tried to rebrand, but the attempt lacked momentum. As the competition stiffened, the once-dominant brand began to fade. Quietly. Slowly. Irreversibly.
Today, Ragolis is a shadow of its former self — a sobering reminder that in life, nothing lasts forever.
This story, according to social commentator Andrew Ekwetafia Gbise JP, mirrors more than just corporate competition — it reflects the transient nature of all things: beauty, fame, power, influence, even legacies.
“There’s a time for everything under the sun,” Gbise notes, quoting Ecclesiastes 12:1. “Ragolis was great, but its greatness passed. Another chapter has begun.”
Gbise draws a poignant parallel to human life and the pursuit of fame. He warns those who chase relevance at all costs, sacrificing others and burning bridges, that fame is fleeting — and even the loudest voices today will eventually fall silent.
“You were famously famed once,” he writes, “but now desperately seek a second chance. The same hands that once lifted you are the ones you betrayed. Now the future you destroyed mocks your downfall.”
Gbise’s piece, though poetic and philosophical, holds a serious undertone: “Today will be buried like yesterday,” he warns. “Let it be known — a tree can never become a forest.”
In an age where power, popularity, and prominence are so desperately pursued, the fall of Ragolis Water serves as a reminder — empires crumble, brands fade, and legacies can be wiped away if not carefully nurtured.
As Gbise concludes, “Kill all, and lead no one — that’s the summary of vanity.”
