Co-owner of GNT Group, Serhii Groza: "My partner was thrown into cell with criminals to force him to give up business"
GNT Group has been called one of the most technologically advanced stevedoring companies in Eastern Europe, with one of the most technologically advanced universal transshipment complexes in the port of Odesa. It was built and modernised with funding from the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development (EBRD), Swiss and European banks. The complex handles up to 5 million tonnes of cargo per year and employs 1,500 people.
GNT Group was considered one of the most technologically advanced companies in Eastern Europe, operating one of the most unique and high-tech multipurpose transshipment complexes in the port of Odesa. Its construction and modernization were carried out with the support of the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development (EBRD), as well as Swiss and other European banks. The terminal handles up to 5 million tons of cargo annually and employs 1,500 workers.
The complex was built from scratch by entrepreneurs Serhii Groza and Volodymyr Naumenko, both well-known figures in the agricultural market. For many years, GNT Group cooperated with the world’s largest grain traders.
A month ago, Naumenko was arrested — a shock to the market. The reason: a conflict with creditors — Argentem Creek Partners (ACP, a company registered in the Cayman Islands) and Innovatus Capital Partners (ICP).
Groza and Naumenko brought in these funds in the early 2020s, after the exit of a strategic partner — the major U.S. corporation CHS — and a pause in financing from the EBRD.
In 2022, a confrontation began between the new creditors and the owners, lasting nearly three years. It remains unclear which powerful players the foreign funds may have involved in the conflict. But the situation today increasingly resembles the lawless 1990s, when corporate disputes were settled through physical intimidation.
We asked Serhii Groza himself to comment on the developments. This is his first live interview since the beginning of the conflict.
"The terminal is our beloved brainchild. For twenty years, we lived and breathed it from morning till night."
— Mr. Serhii, many well-known media outlets tried to speak with you earlier, but you mostly responded through your lawyers. Why didn’t you engage directly with the media?
— It was a mistake not to prioritize direct communication with the media. We’ve always taken pride in our reputation—everyone knew us as people who stood by their word. That’s likely why we didn’t see the need to be public figures. We believed it was more appropriate to resolve everything within the legal framework. Now we understand that silence is no longer an option—our opponents are running a coordinated campaign, painting us as criminals, and trying to take our business away.
— You entered the stevedoring business in the early 2000s. How did that happen?
— I’m an air traffic controller by profession. When Ukraine gained independence, I went to Cyprus and, together with friends, started a business focused on supplying metal products to various countries. That’s when we met Volodymyr Naumenko.
At the height of the scrap metal boom, we built a very successful company that ranked among the top three exporters. At first, we shipped small vessels to Turkey. As our volumes grew, we were soon able to send out Panamax-class vessels (a standard size of container ships, tankers, and other vessels with maximum dimensions that allow passage through the old locks of the Panama Canal – ed.) to China. For Panamaxes, we needed deep-water berths, so we began working with a company called "Olimpex Coupe," which had such infrastructure.
We quickly realized the existing equipment was inadequate. To grow, the facility needed modernization—new state-of-the-art cranes and loaders. The owner, Valerii Rozengolts, wasn’t particularly interested in developing the stevedoring business. We offered to buy the company from him. "Company" is perhaps too generous a word—Rozengolts merely leased some old cranes and equipment in the port. That’s where we began our modernization efforts. In the port of Odesa, we leased a floor-storage warehouse with our own funds: "Inzernoexport" became our first small grain elevator.
— Many who started in the scrap metal business in the ’90s remained in trading and are doing quite well. Do you regret shifting into transshipment?
— That’s true. Our former colleagues developed foreign trading firms, became major players, and invested their profits in real estate and other ventures. We chose a different path: instead of diversifying into unrelated areas, we decided to build a vertically integrated company with its own logistics and a universal stevedoring complex for handling metal, ore, and grain.
On the plot we acquired stood a facility owned by a company called "Omega"—two domes used for storing fertilizers. At the time, it was a very modern technology. We decided to buy out Omega and build an ultra-modern grain elevator on its base. We brought in the banks. We mostly worked with Swiss banks—handling and shipping such large volumes of goods requires tremendous working capital. Swiss banks are the fastest and best at understanding trading. Practically all Swiss banks knew us.
— But eventually you reached an agreement with Raiffeisen Bank?
— Raiffeisen was riding a wave of euphoria—it had just acquired Ukraine’s Aval Bank. They stated they wanted to finance our project independently. Our Swiss partners advised us to go for it. Raiffeisen began issuing letters of credit for equipment purchases. We bought what we believed to be the most advanced and expensive equipment in the world—mostly from the U.S.
— Were you confident in success?
— We spent a year conducting an in-depth market analysis to understand what the industry would consider the ideal elevator. In the end, we offered the market something Ukraine had never seen before—an absolutely unique and highly complex technological facility.
— At that time, as far as I know, the only grain elevator in the Port of Odesa was an old Soviet-era facility owned by the State Food and Grain Corporation of Ukraine (SFGCU).
— Comparing that to what we built is like comparing a modern airliner to an old tractor. The software, the variability in cargo distribution—it was a completely different level. This wasn’t just a matter of dumping grain in from the top and waiting until it came out at the bottom to guess what was left or what the quality was. We introduced the ability to program processes, manage and monitor them. It allowed us to ensure the required quality for export.
To make that possible, we built an extensive network of galleries and internal transport systems that could redirect different grain batches from one silo to another. Huge processing capacity, automated management, quality control—this was our innovation, and we were truly proud of what we had created.
We installed special grain "softeners" to preserve the quality of corn as it was loaded into the silos. We spent a year and a half experimenting and refining the process!
— There were no ready-made solutions available?
— None! When you start loading corn into a silo, it drops from a height of 40–50 meters. That kind of fall damages the grain and reduces its quality. Our engineers tested various systems to slow the fall, but the grain flow was so powerful it destroyed everything in its path. Still, we eventually created a real innovation. We achieved exceptional corn quality.
Some might say, "every man praises his own swamp." But this was our creation. Our child. Our life. For twenty years, we lived and breathed it—every single day.
"The EBRD was strongly opposed to Argentem’s involvement, but we didn’t listen."
— How did you get through the 2008 financial crisis?
— Raiffeisen stopped financing. They called us in, apologized, and said: "We have a big problem." But letters of credit for equipment purchases had already been issued! I asked, "So what now?" The bank offered to help us find another investor. In the end, thanks to our reputation and our connections with Swiss banks, we found a new partner. I got a call from a top executive at Société Générale (a French financial conglomerate – ed.), someone who had known me for years: "I have an offer for you."
It was the American company CHS — a large farmers’ cooperative (a U.S. agricultural cooperative that buys crops and supplies its members with fuel, fertilizers, and pesticides – ed.). They build plants in various countries, construct elevators. They told us: "We want to enter Eastern Europe." I suggested they join us as a partner in place of the bank. The Vice President of CHS Inc. and the President of CHS EMEA (Europe, Middle East and Africa – ed.) came to visit.
We signed a cooperation agreement and jointly financed the development of our port project. We built the first and then the second phase. CHS introduced us to the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development. We were thoroughly vetted for almost two years — our history, connections, documents, expenses. We were put through an X-ray, but we passed — and the EBRD started financing us. They issued three loans of $20 million each. Our cooperation was close and professional.
— So why did CHS exit the project?
— The Americans made good money — they earned a huge amount in interest. But the company’s policy changed. Within a couple of years, five CEOs were replaced. They began winding down operations in Eastern Europe. They offered us to buy out their stake. We went to the U.S., negotiated, settled everything, and were ready to part ways.
At first, the EBRD wasn’t opposed — they said, "Negotiate with CHS, we’ll form a banking syndicate and lead it." But then staffing changes happened, a new team came in, they didn’t know us and needed time to get up to speed. Meanwhile, we had already agreed with CHS — there was a clear timeline for settlement. That’s when some of our American friends recommended Argentem Creek Partners (a Cayman Islands-registered credit fund specializing in high-risk market lending for maximum profit – ed.).
They said Argentem was made up of ex-BlackRock professionals. We didn’t yet know who they really were. We should have checked them out — but time was running out.
We gave ACP all the audits (Grant Thornton), provided all the documents — we had gone through the EBRD’s due diligence process. ACP was so impressed with the results that we quickly agreed on financing. They promised us everything — capital investments, working capital. But unexpectedly, the EBRD objected.
— Why?
— They told us: under no circumstances should ACP get involved. We asked: "Why not?" We should’ve taken that more seriously. If the EBRD opposes something — there’s a reason. Unfortunately, the bank didn’t explain its position. Only later did we learn that the fund had been involved in high-profile disputes across the world: from lawsuits against the government of Kazakhstan and Brazil’s GVO sugar company to years-long litigation with coal company Berau Coal in Indonesia. At the time, we were hearing sweet talk about how impressive ACP was, how they were financing Akhmetov and Pinchuk. Eventually, ACP offered to take over EBRD and CHS’s positions.
ACP was supposed to help buy CHS’s stake, which at the time was valued at $17.5 million. When the EBRD, as the primary investor, was informed of this, they firmly objected to Argentem entering the project as an investor.
After that, ACP said they were ready to buy CHS’s share and repay the $75 million loan to the EBRD. The fund then struck a direct deal with CHS and the EBRD, paid their lawyers — but we or our companies never received a single dollar from them. After that, the bank was very upset with us…
In the end, ACP didn’t provide a cent of working capital. They bought out our partners’ investments — roughly $75 million — but the financing rate was outrageously high. I saw the partnership only as a temporary solution — bridge financing. Paying 20% interest is insane. We immediately started looking for a suitable investor to grow the business with us.
— Why was working capital so important for you?
— A single Panamax vessel costs about $20 million. You buy the cargo, load it, and then have to purchase and load the next one before you’ve even received payment for the first. You need serious working capital to operate in this business. Without it, we were operating at only 25–30% of our full capacity. ACP appointed their own directors to our company — we didn’t object. We welcomed them like family.
But then what? We built the best terminal in the country only to run it at 30%? ACP wouldn’t respond, so we turned to Ukrainian banks that had known us for years. We secured some loans, but it wasn’t enough.
— When did the conflict first arise?
— There was no conflict! From day one, we told ACP: we can’t sustain you at 30% capacity — you’re too expensive. In January 2020, I had already signed a contract with Lazard (an international financial firm specializing in investment banking, financial advisory, and asset management – ed.). We reviewed many proposals, but ACP always said "no."
In the end, they didn’t give us anything — but they brought in another company, Innovatus (!!!). All the financing was consolidated under Madison Pacific Trust Limited, registered in Hong Kong — which is now suing us.
But that structure turned out to be a noose they slowly tightened around our neck. To break free, we decided to issue Eurobonds worth $200 million — at half the interest rate we were paying on the loans.
We hired the law firm Hogan Lovells. We completed all the procedures and the roadshow perfectly — not a single complaint from the exchange (Dentons handled that side). We got a credit rating matching the country’s and were proud of it!
It was December 2021 — we could’ve issued bonds at 7%, but were convinced we could get 6.5% in a month.
And then the war began…
"They didn’t even try to seize the grain — what they wanted was a criminal case."
— The criminal case is allegedly based on grain that went missing from the elevator in spring 2022. Is that true?
— At the beginning of the war, the elevator was fully stocked with grain, but no one was allowed into the port for months. The military had sealed everything off. We were worried not only about the grain, but also about the condition of the elevator itself. Many elevators across Ukraine had been destroyed. We knew our facility had been hit, that the silos could be damaged by shrapnel. ACP was well informed about this.
Once access to the terminal was restored, the director hired an international company to conduct an inventory. The quality of the grain was extremely poor — it had started to rot. We discussed this with ACP and Innovatus.
We came to the conclusion: let the grain go — the priority was to save the main asset, the elevator. The director, Maksym Panshev, acted reasonably and logically, trying in every way possible to remove the spoiled grain before it could contaminate the rest. He saved the elevator — everything that had been damaged was repaired. We continued to discuss everything with the board of directors, which, I remind you, included ACP representatives. Practically all work meetings were attended by regional partner John Patton.
— Did they request a report about the spoiled grain?
— Not once did Innovatus contact us asking to reclaim their grain. We know they restructured loans for other Ukrainian companies they worked with. They spoke to us in a friendly tone. We proposed a restructuring — we were always a good-faith partner, always paid our interest.
Then, suddenly, on December 20, 2022, a coordinated legal assault began across all jurisdictions. Without issuing any formal demand to return the grain or documenting any formal loss, they went straight to the London court and launched an aggressive media and legal campaign. Clearly, our opponents had prepared for this in advance.
— What exactly happened in December 2022?
— We were given an ultimatum: four hours to repay the full amount. No explanations, no analysis, no plan — just: "Pay up or we take everything." We refused to give in to this blackmail and offered a 30-day repayment timeline. That’s when the coordinated campaign to destroy our business began.
They initiated raids on our offices, intimidated everyone — our lawyers, our employees. They threatened everyone with criminal charges. They hired "debt collectors" in different countries. Clearly, this is a well-practiced method for them.
We realized this corporate raid scenario had been in the works for a long time. Together with Hogan Lovells — our former legal counsel — we filed a claim in the London court to freeze our assets. Everything was happening quietly, in advance. They were prepared. We, frankly, missed the signs and didn’t understand what they were planning.
— What happened to the assets?
— In fact, this is an attempt at a total forceful takeover. The asset is being torn apart and sold off for pennies — through liquidations, bankruptcies, and jurisdictional transfers. They sold our Swiss company to themselves for one franc. Equipment we built was sold at fictitious prices. Our lease rights in Ukrainian ports were voided. Our specialists were dismissed.
We invested enormous effort, energy, and soul into this complex. It’s worth around $400 million. Our total debt was only $95 million: $75 million to Argentem, $20 million to Innovatus.
And yet, our former partners are inflating their demands — they’ve filed a new lawsuit in the London court. That means more millions, even billions. At the same time, they continue their smear campaign, painting themselves as major American investors in Ukraine’s economy.
As I mentioned, the plaintiff in all these cases is Madison Pacific Trust Limited — the credit agent handpicked by Argentem to carry out this forceful asset takeover, so they wouldn’t tarnish their own reputation. The same scheme was used to "dismantle" another large Ukrainian agroholding.
— For two years, the case was handled in courts, but then the arrests began. Your partner Volodymyr Naumenko is now being held in a pre-trial detention center. What happened?
— It wasn’t just Volodya. They recently arrested the chief accountant of "Olimpex Coupe," a woman of retirement age. They threw her in jail for the night and then released her on bail. This is a clear example of the enormous pressure on our employees.
They carried out raids as if we were criminals. I see this as an effort to physically eliminate our team. An enormous amount of administrative resources has been mobilized. Last week, they tried to arrest me, but the court rejected the charges as absurd. The entire case hinges solely on directives from the top.
— How did your opponents manage to do this?
— They spent two years attending every international forum where top Ukrainian officials and law enforcement heads were present. At every event, they kept repeating: "The Americans are being mistreated. This case will determine whether the U.S. continues supporting Ukraine." It’s completely absurd.
Munich Security Conference — they were there. Davos — they were there. American Chamber of Commerce — also there. Eventually, a massive administrative machine was turned against us. A criminal case was fabricated. The arrests began. The charges? Pure nonsense.
We borrowed from Innovatus against in-transit grain. One batch was being loaded onto a ship, another was arriving at the elevator. One replaces the other — it’s a constant flow. The destroyed grain — that was our own loss. Our own risk. Our own problem. There’s always grain in the elevator.
If Innovatus wanted grain — they could’ve taken it. But, again, I repeat: they never once demanded it back. Today, Innovatus has already received ten times what they invested — and yet they continue to act like victims.
They didn’t want the grain — because if they had taken it, there would be no grounds for the criminal case. And it’s the criminal case that makes it easier to destroy us. Why prove anything when you can just throw people in jail? Torment them until they give up everything.
That was the original plan — bring in Innovatus, then use the criminal case in Ukraine as a foothold to freeze all our assets in the UK.
— Is Volodymyr Naumenko still in custody?
— He was detained illegally. Volodya is seriously ill. Ukrainian and Israeli doctors have provided medical reports. All of this was submitted to the court. But they continued to torment him — they threw him into a general cell with criminals. He was taken to the hospital in handcuffs for medical exams.
We’ve been friends for over 30 years. I’m proud of Volodya — he’s a die-hard workaholic who played a major role in building our team. Since 1992, I worked abroad, but he stayed in Ukraine. He never planned to leave.
— How did your team react to all this?
— No one doubted that our opponents were spreading lies. All our partners knew that our terminal never used any shady quality-control schemes. We had a strict lab, and we always stood behind our product. Everyone knew we reinvested everything we earned. These things can’t be faked.
Try to find anyone on the market we didn’t fulfill obligations to. Volodya and I have always had the same goal: to build an innovative complex that not only we, as entrepreneurs, could be proud of — but that Ukraine could be proud of as well.
— Do you plan to continue fighting?
— We’ll go all the way. Many people support us, because this is lawlessness. A Ukrainian business, built over decades, is being torn apart in front of everyone. Tomorrow, they could do the same to any company.
But we don’t want war for war’s sake. We have a constructive proposal. We’ve found an investor ready to repay the legitimate debts and invest in restoring the terminal. They’re interested in the business — they were once our client and always liked how we operated.
But the illegal persecution must end, and a fair settlement with the funds must be reached.
— Why should your opponents listen to you?
— They’ve already taken the pledged assets, appointed managers who don’t really understand what they’re doing. But managing such a complex operation requires real expertise! The terminal was built as a unified technological system.
They’ll just destroy it — they don’t know how it works. Ukraine’s State Property Fund has already canceled their lease agreements. The experts have left. What will they do now?
Unlike them, we understand the specifics of working in the Port of Odesa — we’ve been there for 25 years. Our proposal is the only reasonable way forward. Otherwise, everyone will lose — us, them, the country, the port.
