Olu Allen
There is something deeply troubling about the way we choose our battles.
A South African singer announces a concert in Lagos, and Nigerians erupt in outrage. Social media catches fire. Boycott campaigns trend. Threats are issued.
Celebrities weigh in. Within days, the concert is cancelled.
Yet when the same passion should be directed at the leaders who have presided over years of hunger, unemployment, insecurity, corruption, and failed governance, our voices become strangely subdued.
That is the real tragedy.
We are angry at the wrong people.
The controversy surrounding Tyla’s cancelled Lagos concert is not really about music. It is about pain.
It is about the accumulated frustration of Nigerians watching fellow citizens brutalised in South Africa while feeling abandoned by the very governments that should protect them.
That anger is understandable. What is questionable is where we have chosen to direct it.
The real issue has never been Tyla.
The real issue is the catastrophic failure of African leadership.
The Leaders Who Failed Africa
Across Africa, governments have treated public office as a prize to be won rather than a sacred trust to be honoured. Nations blessed with enormous natural wealth continue to produce some of the world’s poorest citizens.
Young Africans are not risking deserts and dangerous seas because they enjoy adventure. They are escaping systems that have failed them.
The pattern is painfully familiar.
Leaders fail their people.
People leave in search of dignity.
Host countries fail to protect them.
Africa turns against itself.
South African President Cyril Ramaphosa himself has acknowledged that poor governance across Africa contributes to migration.
He was right. But acknowledging the problem is not enough. Leadership demands action.
That action has been painfully absent.
Xenophobia Is a Leadership Failure
The recent xenophobic attacks in South Africa did not happen in isolation. They are products of years of political irresponsibility, inflammatory rhetoric, and weak accountability.
Nigerians and other African migrants have once again become convenient scapegoats for economic hardship and social frustration.
Xenophobic movements have continued to gain visibility while violence against fellow Africans repeatedly returns with disturbing regularity.
This should shame every African government.
South Africa cannot continue to champion African solidarity on international platforms while fellow Africans are made to feel unsafe within its borders.
Justice cannot depend on nationality, and silence cannot substitute for leadership.
Xenophobia survives because those responsible often believe there will be little political or legal consequence for their actions.
That is a failure of leadership—not simply a failure of ordinary citizens.
Tinubu Is Not Exempt
But Nigerians must also confront an uncomfortable truth.
Our own leaders have hardly earned the moral authority to lecture anyone.
President Bola Tinubu recently argued that hunger existed in Nigeria long before he was born and that he cannot control Nigeria’s population trajectory.
That explanation misses the point entirely.
Nobody elected him because hunger was new.
He sought power because he promised solutions.
His famous campaign slogan, Emilokan—”It is my turn”—was not a request to inherit failure. It was a promise to change Nigeria’s direction.
Leadership is not about explaining why problems existed before your arrival. It is about demonstrating why your leadership makes a difference after your arrival.
History remembers leaders for what they solved, not for what they inherited.
When governments spend more time explaining hardship than reducing it, citizens have every right to ask difficult questions.
Tyla Is a Musician, Not a Politician
Which brings us back to Tyla.
The Grammy-winning South African artist became the face of a controversy she neither created nor controls.
Calls for boycotts escalated rapidly. Some threatened to disrupt the concert physically. Others condemned anyone intending to attend.
Eventually, Lagos disappeared from the tour schedule.
I disagree with that outcome.
Tyla is a musician.
She is not responsible for the failures of South African immigration policy.
She is not responsible for xenophobic violence.
She should not be held personally liable for the crimes committed by extremists or the failures of politicians.
That does not mean artists are immune from public expectations.
Moments like these offer opportunities to build bridges. A clear statement condemning xenophobia and expressing solidarity with Nigerian fans could have demonstrated that music can unite where politics has divided.
Such a gesture would not have solved Africa’s problems.
But it would have reminded us that ordinary Africans have far more in common with one another than with the politicians who continue to fail them.
We Are Fighting the Wrong Battle
Perhaps the most revealing aspect of this entire controversy is how quickly Nigerians mobilised against a concert.
Imagine if we demonstrated that same consistency in demanding accountability from those entrusted with governing us.
Imagine if our outrage over inflation matched our outrage over celebrity news.
Imagine if we challenged failed governance with the same energy we reserve for social media trends.
A cancelled concert changes very little.
Competent leadership changes everything.
The real enemies are not musicians.
The real enemies are leaders who have turned Africa into a continent where millions leave home because hope has become a luxury.
The real enemies are governments that cannot guarantee economic dignity, personal security, or equal protection under the law.
The real enemies are leaders who reduce citizens’ suffering to historical excuses instead of present-day solutions.
Until we redirect our anger toward those truly responsible, we will continue to mistake symptoms for causes.
History will not remember whether Tyla performed in Lagos.
It will remember whether Africa’s leaders gave Africans a continent worth singing about.
Allen writes on public affairs and advocates for good governance.
