The Followers Parade: Termites Gather in Numbers Too, That doesn’t make them a choir

 

By Abioye Tosin Lawrence

“Not every voice that gathers followers gathers immortality.”

In the Republic of Followers: yes, our beloved Nigeria and her digital provinces, influence is now measured in decibels and data bundles, not depth or destiny.

Today’s marketplace has prophets with ring lights, activists with sponsorship contracts, and philosophers whose deepest thoughts are generated only after Wi-Fi connects.

Everybody is shouting.

Nobody is listening.

And immortality? Ah yes, that's the luxury reserved for those who actually did something, not merely posted it.

The Activists of Convenience

We now have noise-makers who pick causes the way a child picks sweets.

Whatever trends, whatever pays, whatever gives face.

One day, they are fighting corruption.

Next day, they are dining with the corrupt, content creation must continue, after all.

These are not advocates, dear reader.

They are sound engineers of hypocrisy adjusting their morals like volume knobs.

The Followers Industrial Complex

Ah, followers!

Once upon a time, followers meant disciples.

Today, followers mean people who double-tap your delusion.

Influence has been downgraded to:

The louder you shout, the wiser you appear

The more controversial your nonsense, the more ‘deep’ you sound

The more followers you gather, the more immortal you think you are

But alas, termites gather in numbers too.

It doesn’t make them a choir.

Recycled Revolutionaries

Every era has revolutionaries.

Ours has rehearsed revolutionaries,

men and women who rehearse outrage in front of mirrors before pressing “Go Live.”

They do not fight injustice;

they negotiate with it, invoice in hand.

Their activism expires faster than sachet water in the sun.

By the time they are buried (publicly or politically),

their legacy will already have decomposed.

Meanwhile, the Real Voices…

Somewhere, quietly, the authentic voices work.

No noise, no empty fist-raising, no dramatic breathing on camera.

Just purpose, discipline, and results.

These are the ones who last.

They speak once and history echoes for decades.

Not every voice needs a crowd;

some voices are followed by time, not people.

So here we are, a generation mistaking applause for approval and followers for future.

Let it be known:

 Noise may trend, but truth transcends.

Crowds may cheer, but legacy chooses only the worthy.

Not every voice that gathers followers gathers immortality.

For some, history will ask,

"Did you speak?"

For others, it will ask,

"Why did you waste oxygen?"