Tunde Onakoya and the Weight of Our Expectations

Two weeks ago, in the first-ever live edition of Culture Custodian’s Overnight Success, I had the privilege of digging deep into the life and mission of Guinness World Record holder for the longest chess marathon, Tunde Onakoya. 

Onakoya has earned acclaim for what is perceived as being a thoughtful response to Nigerian societal ills. His story of triumph over poverty, and turning shame and pain into collective hope — is one we all need to learn from. It felt essential to platform a figure who has become a sanctuary of sorts for Nigeria’s forgotten children, and whose life is a real time response to the ills that continue to plague our society.

The taping, now in post-production, resonated for a range of reasons. It captured the staggering odds Onakoya has had to overcome, as well as the institutional and structural failures that leave Nigeria’s most vulnerable without safety nets. It revealed, too, the quiet burden of someone who has chosen to live a life of purpose.

At this moment in his journey, it’s clear that Onakoya is grappling with the question all great changemakers eventually ask themselves: What will my legacy be? In his case, that answer has come in spurts. Last year, through a partnership with Lufthansa, it came in the form of a chess innovation hub. Next, came the world record attempt. He launched a line of limited-edition chess sets to raise funds for his North Star — building the world’s largest chess institute. There’s also been the recently published children’s book on his life written by The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives author, Lola Shoneyin. 

Reminiscent of Warhol’s famous observation that “everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes”, Onakoya is using his spotlight to expand the scope of possibilities for Nigeria’s forgotten young who come from the margins, just like he did. 

And yet, today, he finds himself on the receiving end of public backlash — for the supposed crime of taking his mission to President Tinubu. I feel compelled to speak in his defence.

Whatever Onakoya’s personal feelings about the President or the contested circumstances of his rise to power, there is an important distinction between meeting the man and endorsing the politics. He’s had a similar meeting with Atiku Abubakar. Meeting with Tinubu did not amount to a political endorsement. It was an opportunity to earn a listening ear and make a case for his mission with the most powerful man in the country. It’s also an undeniable reality that any lasting social impact programme which wants to scale in present day Nigeria needs government buy in. Failing to take such a meeting would have been a dereliction of duty to the children whose futures depend on the work he’s doing. 

It is understandable why the backlash was swift.  In a moment of economic crisis and mounting disillusionment many Nigerians are desperately searching for a messiah — someone popular, with unimpeachable integrity, who can deliver change. For some, Onakoya had started to look like that figure. In that light, any perceived compromise, even an imagined one, feels like betrayal.

On the other hand, it’s also the legacy of a culture of cynicism which has seen social justice warriors parlay their influence into self serving posturing. Until he proves otherwise, Onakoya has earned the benefit of our doubt. 

But it’s worth remembering: this was never a role he campaigned for. That people have projected messianic hopes onto him is a testament to his influence — but it’s also a reminder of the impossible standards we sometimes set for our heroes.