Have you ever spent weeks crafting a strategy, only to watch someone go viral, with zero plan and make more impact in 48 hours than you did in a quarter? I have. Twice.
The first was when I wrote a multi-channel go-to-market strategy and a brand identity document that took three weeks. That same weekend, Mercy Eke, a BBNaija housemate, casually said, “I just want to relass and be taken kairof.” Within hours, she sold out a t-shirt line. No strategy, no tagline, no content calendar. Just vibes and cultural timing.
Then there’s Burna Boy. He says what he wants. Doesn’t play safe. Doesn’t ask for permission. He doesn’t “market” himself in the way we define or play safe. And he’s still a global force and remains uncancellable. Meanwhile, I was over here fine-tuning value propositions and brand tones.
I had to ask myself: what are we even doing?
But this piece isn’t about Burna or Big Brother. It’s about the uncomfortable truth that real influence today is raw, accidental, chaotic, sometimes even annoying, but never fake.
People don’t care about our polished creatives anymore. Our celebrity influencers aren’t influencing. Half the time, we can’t even get the creators or artists we paid to post on time, let alone on-brand. Meanwhile, real influence is being made in WhatsApp statuses, in comments, in stan accounts, in voice notes, on Instagram stories. Spaces we don’t own, can’t control and still try to optimise anyway.
The truth is simple: culture doesn’t respect marketers anymore.
The most powerful marketing right now is coming from people we wouldn’t even hire. They’re not brand-safe. They’re loud, uncouth, off-message. You might not even like them. My mum once asked, “Why is this boy, referring to Peller, always shouting?” And I laughed. But I also understood. He’s raw, and that rawness feels more human than any branded storytelling.
I won’t lie. Part of this is my fault, too. I told myself I had an intuitive grasp of consumer behaviour, that I had an innate insight others didn’t. That I had “the thing.” Maybe I did, but honestly? It was probably over-inflated, and I’m not alone. Our CMO, brilliant, by the way, still gets outplayed by teens doing voiceovers in their bedrooms. We over-analyse videos that took 15 seconds to make. We have calendars. Briefs. Pillars. Workshops. Pillars, yet our campaigns still miss the mark.
I once told my CEO that a colleague’s outfit was giving, and he asked me who started the trend. I couldn’t answer because I don’t know, maybe Twitter (X). Nobody starts culture anymore, no one determines which trends or not. It doesn’t ask for permission, so we need to romanticise it.
And maybe that’s the hardest pill to swallow. I’m not the gatekeeper. I’m not the oracle, I don’t even have a great following on social media. I’m not the trendsetter. I’m a guest. And guests don’t get to make the rules. So, where does that leave us?
Maybe we need to stop measuring too much. Stop strategising for a world that enjoys the chaos, the mess, the tension and the rawness. We have to stop pretending we still own the room. Our job now is different. It’s not to lead, it’s to feel. It’s to sense the shift before it happens, and to know when to plug in, and when to shut up.
For me? I’ve stopped trying to master culture. I’m studying it again. Not like a strategist, but like a student, and I’m calling it culture marketing. I don’t know where it will lead me, or if it even fits in the career ladder I built for myself. But I’m watching, listening, and hoping that this time, I’m not the last to feel the shift.
