Nigeria’s cultural renaissance has made it a nerve center of global entertainment. This cultural prominence has led to increased visibility, making Nigeria a desirable destination for foreign influencers and celebrities. To simply put, with a globally resonant youth culture that has made Lagos one of the most influential cities in the world, Nigeria has shifted from being just another stop on the African continent to becoming a destination at the center of pop culture. International influencers and celebrities, from A-listers to social media sensations, are setting their sights on the country.

Over the past months, figures like Kai Cenat, Druski, and Rubi Rose (and potentially, BigGroove) have touched down in Lagos, each welcomed with a level of fanfare that’s rare to see for acts who back home might not even register a blip on mainstream media’s radar.

Book BigGroove now guys pic.twitter.com/tvUW176jzD

— Bizzleosikoya.eth (@bizzleosikoya) October 21, 2024

Their arrival has sparked a critical debate around cultural appropriation, superficial engagement, the selective spotlight these influencers receive when they “tour” Nigeria; and perceptions of digital minstrelsy, where influencers are seen as reducing Nigeria’s complexity to convenient caricatures for entertainment and internet clout. It has also raised the question of whether these visits are a celebration of Nigerian culture or a troubling reduction of it into an easily consumable spectacle, where personalities from the West gain exaggerated praise in a nation that’s produced its own global icons in music, fashion, and film?

No really. They come to nigeria and treat the people here like a bunch of jesters for their entertainment and for content purposes. It’s disgusting

— Starr🎀 (@nostarrnoshine) October 28, 2024

The concept of cultural minstrelsy is not new. It finds its roots in the 19th-century American minstrel shows that caricatured Black people for entertainment, reducing complex identities to simple, often derogatory tropes. When these internet personalities land in Nigeria, there’s little to suggest that they had any prior meaningful engagement with Nigeria or its traditions before stepping off the plane. Their interactions in Lagos are largely focused on capturing viral moments and shock-value content. They are figures with little understanding or appreciation of the culture, reducing it to an aesthetic playground for entertainment. Druski’s visit, and how he engaged with the people and culture, is an apt example. Popular for his comedy sketches, Druski seemed to relish the chance to create content in Nigeria, filming a skit involving the stereotype of  “Nigerian scammers.”

African Scammers be living they best life 😂 pic.twitter.com/DAxnzmiGpf

— DRUSKI (@druski) October 20, 2024

In it, he played up the trope of the infamous “419 scammer,” a stereotype that’s long haunted Nigerians and falsely defined us in Western media. Of course, Druski ignorantly saw that as harmless comedy and even though he was called out on social media, he didn’t say or do anything that showed that he acknowledged his wrong. What could have been a chance for real cultural exchange turned instead into a tone-deaf spectacle, reviving narratives that make Nigeria a punchline.

Kai Cenat’s recent visit to Lagos also sparked a frenzy. His fans swarmed to meet him, and he ate it up — documenting every moment, from sampling jollof to dancing in markets, as if ticking off boxes on an “African experience” checklist. But his version of engagement felt shallow. His exaggerated reactions and outsider’s lens made Nigeria an exotic prop for his follower base back in the U.S. 

These personalities trivialize a culture that’s rich, diverse, and thriving in ways they barely understand or care to know about. Even though they’re Black (and should know better), their interactions in Nigeria often reflect a colonial gaze, where the cultural nuances of the Nigerian experience are stripped away in favor of sensationalized performances designed to amuse a primarily Western audience. In many cases, they are celebrated in West Africa precisely because they are seen as cultural ambassadors or bridges to the West. Their fan base in Africa is large and loyal, thrilled to see these celebrities express even the slightest interest in their heritage. But this adulation is rarely reciprocated in any meaningful way. The West African public becomes a convenient audience for influencers who seem to have saturated their reach in the United States. The optics of a celebrity like Rubi Rose receiving a lavish treatment in Ghana’s presidential villa raises concerns about national identity and the narratives being constructed within the global cultural marketplace.

Who allowed Rubi Rose into Jubilee House? Ghana’s seat of presidency now allows international onlyfans creators into its quarters?

Garbage in garbage out. You guys are jokers! pic.twitter.com/mCdFzop8nN

— Albert Nat Hyde ™ (@1BongoIdeas) November 1, 2024

When a nation bends over backwards in such a way for individuals whose contributions are often fleeting or trivial, it risks diluting its own cultural capital. Critics suggest that many Africans view foreigners as superior, which reinforces the latter’s self-perception of entitlement. This dynamic, coupled with the ease of life for Western middle-class citizens in Nigeria, may explain why foreigners flock there, often receiving privileges that should be available to all, particularly in their home countries.

For people like Druski and Cenat, Nigeria (or Ghana) serves as a fresh market, an untapped reservoir of attention. The cycle persists because there is little accountability. Western influencers, buoyed by the enthusiastic reception they receive, can enter and leave as they please, often without pausing to consider the impact of their actions. While they may feel that they are “celebrating” African culture, their approach often reveals a shallow, even exploitative understanding of it. To portray Nigeria or Ghana as mere backdrops for humor or novelty is to ignore the depth, diversity, and dignity of these places.

The glorification of visiting American influencers could have long-term impacts on Nigeria’s cultural identity. As these digital personalities capture the attention of Nigerian youth, they inadvertently shape aspirational ideals, particularly through Western paradigms of “cool.” This impact subtly discourages a focus on celebrating indigenous creativity, as younger Nigerians might prioritize following Western trends over exploring or innovating within their own cultural narratives.

There’s also an economic angle to consider: Nigerian brands and tourism initiatives might see value in associating with these influencers for short-term gains in visibility. However, this strategy often undercuts the potential for more authentic, sustainable promotion of Nigerian culture by prioritizing immediate clout over building local talent. For every Kai Cenat skit or Druski joke, there are hundreds of Nigerian creatives whose stories go untold, not because they lack substance, but because the local industry sometimes favors Western approval over grassroots appreciation.

It’s crucial for these digital personalities to recognize the weight of their actions when they step into foreign cultures. There’s a difference between appreciating and appropriating, between a genuine interest and a fleeting performance.