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If I Start To Talk

Hmm. My sister the thing wey I don take my eye see, my brother we no go end.

Chidi Afulezi
Chidi Afulezi
. 2 min read
If I Start To Talk

When this Tiwa track came on my Spotify playlist just now now, I was triggered. This is an ode to me. Honestly, if I start to talk? Let me tell you, eh?

Go ahead...take a listen. And a watch.

One of the things that really gets me is this underbelly thing re personal brand building. I don't have any wahala with personal brand building per se, we do this whether we are conscious about it or not. You are your brand. When you step up, step out, step in the name of love (listen, that track is still fire, argue with yourself)...that is your brand that people see. If you choose to put work into raising your profile, abeg continue to rock and roll. Nobody is stopping you.

My beef is with all the unchecked myth making. When folks start to make stuff up. Present this facade about their day to day. Folks with no experience telling you about their experience. People who haven't built one product telling you about their entrepreneurial prowess. People who can barely hang on to their money telling you about their money. People that have been together three months telling you about marriage. They are not goals abeg. It is a cacophony of chatter. Especially with all these megaphones that amplify the loudest and baddest voices. Even those that look like they are killing it, are killing themselves. And others.

Now, those people who know, know. The gladiators in the arena. The warriors who put on their armor and head out to make things happen. Scars abound. Callouses galore. And with that requisite quiet confidence that comes from having seen it all. They know where the bodies are buried, and they are not telling. If they start to talk, my friend? Oya. You just sharrap, bring out your Kurutoga pencil, and your notebook, and take notes. Don't argue...just listen and ask questions.

Because the thing wey they don take their eye see, eh?  

Enjoy your Wednesday.

(BTW I know Lupita and Danai get all the glory, but my Ugandan sister Florence Kasumba is the baddest Wakandan out there. Move, or be moved.)