Let’s be honest, if not for social media, some of us might never have been seen, let alone heard. In a world that used to favour only the rich, connected, or privileged, social media has done what centuries of policies and promises couldn’t: it has levelled the playing field, even if just a little.
There was a time in this same Nigeria, not too long ago, when the only people who got a shot at greatness were the children of the elites. They had the access. They had the exposure. They were the ones picked for competitions, recommended for opportunities, or featured in newspapers for just existing well.
The rest of us? We just watched, clapped, and hoped one day “someone would notice us.”
But today, things have changed. Thanks to smartphones and a small data plan, the child of a fish seller in Ajegunle can now go viral for their painting, a bus conductor can be discovered for their unique voice, and a secondary school girl in dusty slippers can become a global ambassador for a dance academy abroad. And I absolutely love to see it.
Social media, in many ways, has become God’s microphone for the poor. You can tweet from your face-me-I-face-you. You can post your food hustle from your kiosk in Ogbomoso. You can show your talent from a village that doesn’t even have constant power supply and boom, the world sees it, applauds it, and sometimes rewards it.
Let me say this: the poor are not stupid, lazy, or incapable. Many of them have always had potential, they just never had access. And access is everything. Access changes destinies. Access brings recognition. Access brings funding. Access brings dignity.
And that’s what social media is doing, democratizing access.
Of course, it’s not all rosy. Social media has its dark sides: comparison, false realities, digital bullying… But if we’re being fair, the blessings are undeniable. Now, people with no surname or family connection can raise funds for surgery, crowdsource their business capital, or even get international scholarships just because someone shared their story.
It’s beautiful.
I’ve watched young Nigerians, once mocked for speaking with “local accents,” now run thriving online businesses or host webinars with people from the US, UK, and Dubai.
I’ve seen mothers selling fried yam on the roadside become food influencers because someone recorded them and shared their love for clean cooking and hustle.
The rich may still have their privileges, but now the poor have their voice. And when they use it well, with value, with honesty, with excellence, the whole world listens.
So if you’re reading this and thinking, “But I have no one, I know no one,” remember this: your phone can be your platform. Your data is your microphone. Your story deserves to be told. Don’t shrink because of where you’re coming from. Shine anyway.
Because this generation is no longer waiting for a seat at the table, we’re building our own with hashtags, reels, and raw talent.
And honestly? It’s about time.
With love,
Titilayo
Born as Titilayo Oladimeji, I have been known by the nickname Titipetral for nearly two decades. I am a Financial Advisor at a reputable financial institution in Lagos, Nigeria, with over 10 years of experience in Financial Advisory and Credit Analysis. I am also an author and the founder of Titipetral Publishers, a duly registered publishing company.
In addition, I lead the Titipetral Empowerment and Development Network (TEDN), a duly registered philanthropic initiative dedicated to supporting underprivileged girls, boys, women, and men in the Alimosho area, Nigeria’s most populated local government, focusing on serving the underserved.
For inquiries or collaboration, you can reach me at Titilayooladimeji@titipetral.com or titipetral@gmail.com.