A friend of mine whose name I will not mention had everything going for him. Smart, well-educated, hardworking, the kind of person who stayed late at the office to get things right. In many ways, he was a leader without a title. But something puzzled him. Despite his efforts and results, people often passed him by when big opportunities came. When there were strategy sessions, he wasn ' t invited. When leadership roles opened up, he was told,“ You’ re doing well where you are. Let’ s not rock the boat.”
He once told me,“ Wale, I think I need to pray more. Maybe this is spiritual.” Unfortunately, this is a characteristically African response to when things are not going well. Even the fool who has never done anything to develop himself and who just surrenders his mind to market forces thinks it is a spiritual curse when he is not moving forward in life.
Anyway, I told him what I’ ll now tell you: If we explain all our stupidity away as spiritual, if we happily find someone from the village, some evil spirit as the fall guy for our lack of preparation or intentionality, we will never progress and sadly this is the reality for a lot of ignorant Africans.
I then asked this friend of mine a question that changed everything:“ What do people think when they hear your name?” He paused.“ I … I don’ t know.” Exactly.
This is what I call brand ignorance and it’ s not a small thing. It is one of the biggest silent killers of potential. You can have all the degrees, all the ideas, all the drive but if your brand is undefined, or worse, defined by others in ways that don’ t serve you, you’ ll keep wondering why doors never open for you.
This principle doesn’ t just apply to individuals as it applies to corporates and nations too. When I was growing up, the United States was portrayed almost like an annex of heaven. We knew their presidents, their celebrities, their skyscrapers, their beaches and the good life. It was the place we all wanted to go as kids. We knew more about America than we knew about other African countries. Places like Dubai did not even feature and we did not know they existed( until they became deliberate in telling their own story too). Every movie, every magazine, every story made it feel like the United States was a flawless paradise.
So, when I eventually visited and moved to the United States, you can imagine my shock. I saw homelessness. I saw hunger. I walked through neighbourhoods soaked in poverty and pain. And I asked myself,“ Were we lied to?” The answer is no. They simply mastered something many individuals and organizations still struggle with: They told the side of their story they wanted the world to remember. And they told it so well, so consistently, that it shaped global perception. That’ s the power of brand ownership. The story was so powerful that it could be leveraged. They leveraged it to get their way in the world.
Sadly, while they were busy controlling their brand, many of us were doing the exact opposite. We were waiting for someone else to tell our story. We were passive, unintentional, and unaware. That’ s what brand ignorance looks like. It’ s not just failing to create a narrative but instead allowing others to create one for you, and often, one that limits your opportunities, your value, and your voice.
Ironically, while nations like the United States mastered the art of telling the world a deliberate and curated story, painting themselves as the land of dreams, Africa was often at the mercy of stories told by others. As a child living in the UK, I was asked if we lived in trees or played with monkeys back home. That was the narrative many grew up with. We were seen as a continent painted as backward, wild, and uncivilized. Then in 1988, something unusual happened. Two seemingly unrelated events collided in a way that would shape perceptions for decades. That year, Eddie Murphy released Coming to America, where he portrayed a wealthy African prince so rich he had his own money, his own kingdom, his own regal flair. That same year, the first recorded Nigerian prince email scam appeared featuring a mysterious, wealthy African royal who needed your help to move large sums of money.
Now think about that. Could it be that Coming to America which was intended as satire unknowingly gave credibility to the idea of rich African royalty, making the scam seem just plausible enough to work? It’ s a fascinating thought. A fictional movie, told with enough polish and consistency, may have subconsciously validated a lie that would defraud millions for decades.
Could it be that because we didn’ t tell our own story first, we allowed fiction, scams, and stereotypes to shape the global perception of Africa. And because we failed to take brand control, others did it for us with devastating consequences.
Contrast that with the United States. They had poverty too. Homelessness. Crime. But they mastered the art of storytelling. They told the world a version of themselves that served them and even their weaknesses were often hidden beneath the glow of their brand. That’ s the danger of brand ignorance. When you don’ t define your own narrative, someone else will define it for you. And when they do, it may not serve your destiny.
Too many people suffer in life as a result of not telling their story in a way that shapes their brand positively. They have left their brand to chance. Unfortunately, the world doesn’ t reward chance. It rewards clarity. The cost of brand ignorance is that your truth gets buried beneath louder, more deliberate stories. And your potential gets trapped beneath perceptions you never chose but allowed.
Everyone has a brand. Let me repeat that … everyone has a brand. Whether you ' re deliberate about it or not, people are already forming thoughts, assumptions, and expectations around your name. That is your brand. The question is not whether you have one, but whether you are in control of it.
I often talk about what I call Mental Real Estate and this is the space you occupy in people’ s minds. That space determines how they treat you, how they trust you, and how they talk about you when you’ re not in the room.
Many people have never taken the time to ask themselves, what kind of real estate they occupy in others’ minds? Is it premium? Is it cluttered? Is it even positive? Let me paint a picture.
You walk into a room and someone whispers,“ That’ s the guy who always delivers under pressure.” Another says,“ Oh, her? She’ s the one who complains a lot.” Someone else says,“ He’ s okay, but I don’ t really know what he does.” You haven’ t opened your mouth, but your brand already has. Your name spoke before you did. Let that sink in.
Years ago, I worked with a company that was preparing for a merger. The CEO called me in and said,“ Wale, I want you to help us retain only the best during this transition. Help us figure out who adds value and who’ s just … there.” When we dug deep, we discovered that some of the people that were seen as‘ Just there’ were actually top performers but they had been overshadowed under the veil of those who projected their brands with more vigour.“ Who comes to mind when we talk about