The Lifelong Performance of Fame

The Lifelong Performance of Fame

By Bagudu Mohammed

Perhaps it was in my own time growing up that this whole performance began of telling lies to a woman, borrowing an identity just to woo her, and believing a man is exactly what he claims to be. I say it started in my time because I watched it become a culture.

At that time, all those we criticized for living a fake life, for chasing women far above their status, somehow succeeded. Even though many of those relationships did not last, the strategy worked. It was so common to hear of a man who borrowed a room, borrowed a flat, borrowed a new wedding box, borrowed a car just to visit his girlfriend, only for the entire story to collapse immediately after the wedding. The wedding was the premiere; reality was the scene that was never rehearsed.

Yet it was not that every girl deceived by this exaggerated image of a big man was ignorant. Some wanted it that way. They needed it that way to meet an invisible agenda set by society. Society expects your man to have a car, to be rich, to be prominent, to be seen. So a woman fears more what society will say about the man she presents as her spec than how she will actually live with him.

Sociologist Erving Goffman called this dramaturgy, the art of impression management. We are all actors on a social stage, but some stages demand a more expensive costume. For many women, the pressure is not about who she loves in private, but who she can afford to be seen with in public.

I once heard a man say that a woman told him plainly to always come to her place with a car, even if he had to borrow one, she did not mind. And because the guy at the time had friends who were “mobile” as we used to call it, that borrowed car became the weapon that made him chosen above other more promising guys who were modest, simple and genuine.

This is what I call the curated ideal man, a man presented to the world to manage impression. What she will bear with him privately is less important than what the public thinks, because of pressure. Psychologists call this normative social influence, the deep need to be accepted by conforming to what the group expects, even when it contradicts private judgment.

This reflection was inspired by Nollywood icon Omotola Jalade Ekeinde. In an interview published by TheCable, she revealed that her husband, Matthew Ekeinde, goes to the market to buy foodstuffs for the family. She said, “I don’t go to the market because I can’t. I can’t because of my status.”

Status, as Max Weber taught us, is not just wealth, it is honor, it is deference, it is the invisible rope that tells you where you can go and where you cannot. Fame is not just being known, it is being constrained by being known.

Back in school, the dream of most children was to become popular or famous personalities. But even as a child I asked, is being famous all roses? I had my reservations. Because there has never been anything I cherished or enjoyed more than a private life that makes one real, free, and less pressured.

The French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre said, “Hell is other people,” not because people are wicked, but because we live under their gaze, constantly adjusting ourselves to be seen.

Is there anything so enjoyable as being in a place that affords one to be free, to hustle and even struggle like other Nigerians, devoid of the pressure of being watched, assessed, judged, seen, or even recorded, to prioritize performance in everyday life like politicians do? The beauty of anonymity is that you can fail quietly and grow loudly.

I remember an incident of a former lawmaker whose vehicle broke down on the road while in transit and who came to the roadside to look for a commercial car. Someone passing by noticed him on the road without even knowing what had happened, while he was moving in a different car, quickly snapped him and posted on social media with the caption “such is life, this is former lawmaker looking for commercial vehicle” and it went viral. That photo was not news, it was punishment for losing status.

Thorstein Veblen, in his theory of the leisure class, argued that status must be constantly performed through conspicuous consumption, and once you stop performing, society announces your decline. The lawmaker did not lose his humanity, he lost his costume.

I have written about the price of fame when the little-known Dunamis girl became viral after being accused of lying about earning a law degree and being the first graduate in her family. She gained national attention in what she eventually called an accidental celebrity status, asking Nigerians to help fund her because she did not expect it, and everywhere she goes she is no longer free or secure, hence the need for lifelong branding and performance, my words.

Scholars call this the Thomas Theorem, if men define situations as real, they are real in their consequences. Once the internet defines you as a star or a fraud, you must live inside that definition, whether you chose it or not.

In another intervention I also wrote about the theory of changing location to protect merit, something many people do unconsciously which may be good for business, academic focus, or enjoying private life with family. Unfortunately, not everyone can benefit from this, especially in their own country, because some people are national or world celebrities. That is why elites run to Dubai and other places for holiday. Psychologists call it privacy restoration, the deliberate withdrawal to a place where your identity is not pre-written for you. For the truly famous, there is no withdrawal, only a different stage.

The pressure to be slim, to do cosmetic surgery, to prioritize a man or woman with visibility rather than genuineness, to select where to go, what to say or do, could be shaped by the acquired image which is not always roses.

For instance, many celebrities or great sportsmen who become subjects of media attention as being neglected by the government despite their previous contributions to the country by helping to win laurels are sometimes victims of the gaze who may not necessarily be doing badly on average. They may be average, content, and quiet, but the public expects perpetual grandeur.

Omotola Jalade Ekeinde just reminded us that politicians and celebrities alike are in constant acting that is lifelong, not just on the screen, not just on social media, but even in reality, and it often comes with more loss than gain.

Celebrity, as Joshua Gamson argues, is not a person but a condition, a state of being watched that never ends. The price is not just money, it is freedom.

Bagudu Mohammed is the founder of Alternative Perspectives, a widely read commentary platform on social media. It offers evidence-based analysis and real-life insights as a credible alternative to groupthink, convenient narratives, and echo chambers. The platform explores a wide range of issues, including politics, society, relationships, governance, and contemporary trends.
Web: https://alternativeperspective.onrender.com