Nigeria, Aug. 5 -- In the dry heat of August, in the boardrooms of West Africa's largest industrial empire, a quiet revolution took place. The man with salt-white hair and a name carved into the concrete of African capitalism-Aliko Dangote-stepped aside. Not for sons. Not for brothers. But for daughters. Three of them.

No royal drums beat in the village square. No town crier announced this shift in the marketplace. Yet it was an earthquake. Not because women haven't led before-but because in a country where cultural inheritance often sees the girl child sidelined, Dangote chose otherwise.

And then came the backlash.

A certain commentator, cloaked in historical conviction, barked, "There's nothing you can do about it. Go and read the Wi...