Being a Lecture Delivered to the Students and Faculty of the Department of Theatre Arts and Media , Ekiti State University, Ado – Ekiti.
By Babafemi Ojudu
There is a story I once heard about a travelling theatre troupe many years ago in Yorubaland.
The actors had journeyed from town to town performing under difficult conditions. No luxury buses. No sophisticated lighting. No air-conditioned halls. Sometimes they performed in village squares. Sometimes in school compounds. Sometimes under trees.
On one particular evening, rain began to fall heavily in the middle of a performance. The audience scattered in all directions. The drummers rushed to protect their instruments. Costumes became soaked. Everything appeared ruined.
But then something remarkable happened.
An old woman in the crowd turned back and shouted:�“Why are you all running? These people are carrying our stories!”
Slowly, the crowd returned.
The actors continued their performance in the rain.
Ladies and gentlemen, students, that single statement captures the eternal importance of theatre and storytelling.
“These people are carrying our stories.”
Theatre is not merely entertainment.
It is memory.
It is identity.
It is culture.
It is protest.
It is history.
It is imagination.
And in the modern world, it is also becoming one of the greatest economic opportunities available to young Africans.
Today, I have not come merely to speak to you about acting.
I have come to speak to you about survival, relevance, innovation, enterprise, and the future.
Because the world you are entering is radically different from the world your lecturers entered many years ago.
The stage has changed.
The audience has changed.
Technology has changed.
And therefore the theatre artist must also change.
A few years ago, somewhere in Lagos, a young man stood under a bridge with nothing but a cheap phone, two friends, and a borrowed ring light. They had no studio, no sponsors, no television station waiting for them, and no rich parents funding their dreams. What they had was talent, humour, timing, and the courage to start.
They began producing one-minute skits and posting them online.
People laughed.
Then they shared.
Then advertisers came.
Today, that same young man flies business class across Africa, signs endorsement deals worth millions, employs dozens of young people, and is recognized on the streets from Accra to Nairobi.
That is the world you are entering.
A world where talent no longer waits for permission.
A world where a smartphone can become a television station.
Where creativity has become currency.
And where theatre arts students have one of the greatest opportunities in human history—if only they can see it.
For too long, many of our institutions have unconsciously prepared students mainly for certificates and paid employment. Yet the painful truth confronting Nigeria today is that paid employment is shrinking while opportunities for creators are exploding.
The old economy is weakening.
The creative economy is rising.
The question therefore is not merely:�“Can you act?”
The more important question is:�Can you create value with your talent?
Can you turn imagination into enterprise?
Can you turn performance into influence and income?
Can you employ yourself and eventually employ others?
This is the challenge before theatre students today.
The entertainment industry is no longer limited to stage drama or television acting alone. It has expanded dramatically.
Today, a theatre graduate can function as:
• Actor
• Script writer
• Content creator
• Digital comedian
• Film producer
• Voice-over artist
• Event compere
• Creative director
• Social media influencer
• YouTuber
• TikTok performer
• Documentary maker
• Brand storyteller
• Podcaster
• Talent manager
• Online instructor
• Media strategist
• Cultural curator
And many more.
In truth, the modern world has unknowingly prepared itself for theatre people.
Why?
Because theatre trains communication.
It teaches expression, storytelling, emotional intelligence, improvisation, movement, persuasion, confidence, and audience engagement.
These are now among the most valuable skills in the global digital economy.
Look around social media today. What dominates the space?
Performance.
Drama.
Presentation.
Humour.
Storytelling.
Theatre students therefore must stop seeing themselves merely as job seekers. They must begin to see themselves as creators, entrepreneurs, and cultural exporters.
Permit me to give you a contemporary example that should inspire every theatre student sitting here today.
Many of you know the music sensation Asake as a global star filling arenas across Europe, America, and Africa. What many may not know is that Asake studied Theatre Arts at Obafemi Awolowo University, where he obtained a diploma.
As a student, he was known not merely for singing but for performance. He understood movement, rhythm, stagecraft, dance, expression, and audience psychology. He was particularly gifted in dance and physical performance.
After school, survival was difficult. There was no guaranteed employment waiting for him. No instant fame. No easy breakthrough.
Then came an idea.
He borrowed from the energy and rhythm of Fuji music, added contemporary street poetry and lyrics, infused it with spectacular choreography and theatrical movement, and suddenly something extraordinary happened.
People could not merely listen to him; they had to watch him.
That is theatre.
That is performance intelligence.
That is creativity meeting opportunity.
And pronto, the young man who once walked around a university campus searching for survival exploded onto the world stage.
Today, Asake is not merely a singer. He is a performer, a cultural export, a global brand, and an employer of labour.
What made the difference?
He understood something many young people still do not understand: success in modern entertainment is not merely about talent. It is about originality, identity, performance, and the courage to innovate from your roots.
He did not abandon his cultural foundation.
He transformed local sound into global appeal.
That is exactly what theatre students in Ekiti must begin to think about.
What stories can you tell from Ekiti?
What local humour can you export?
What folklore can you dramatize?
What dances can you modernize?
What myths from our forests and hills can become global cinema?
What if the next global streaming sensation emerges from Ikere, Ijero, Ilawe, Iyin, Oye, or Ado Ekiti?
The next continental star may already be sitting in this hall today, unknown even to himself or herself.
During your student days, you should already be producing content.
Do not wait until graduation.
The smartphone in your pocket is already a production studio.
You can create:
• Campus comedy skits
• Short films
• Spoken word performances
• Political satire
• Relationship comedy
• Yoruba folklore adaptations
• Dance theatre
• Historical reenactments
• Educational drama
• Podcasts and interviews
• Cultural documentaries
The beauty of social media is that it rewards consistency more than perfection.
Some of the biggest creators today started with poor lighting, shaky cameras, and rough editing.
What sustained them was persistence.
You must therefore learn not only theatre but also:
• Video editing
• Sound design
• Branding
• Audience engagement
• Digital marketing
• Monetization systems
• Social media algorithms
A theatre graduate who understands these is already ahead of the future.
But beyond individual success lies something even more important.
The need to build an Ekiti creative ecosystem.
We must not merely produce isolated stars.
We must build an industry.
Ekiti must begin to consciously create a theatre and film tradition.
And the good news is that we are not starting from zero.
Long before social media, long before Netflix, long before streaming platforms, pioneers like Jimoh Aliu and his fellow creators had already laid the foundation of indigenous storytelling and travelling theatre culture in Yorubaland.
They carried culture from town to town.
They created memorable characters.
They brought Yoruba language and folklore alive.
They built audiences without modern technology.
That tradition must not die.
It must evolve.
And this is where government and the private sector must work together.
I commend the Ekiti State Government for reportedly sponsoring the production of the Kiriji War movie to the tune of about one billion naira.
That is visionary.
That is strategic.
That is how serious societies begin to build creative industries.
And now we hear rumours that global platforms like Netflix may be interested in taking up the film for distribution at a huge financial value.
If that happens, it will prove something important.
That our stories have value.
That our history has commercial potential.
That culture itself can become an economy.
The Kiriji War project therefore should not be seen as an isolated intervention.
It should be seen as the beginning—or perhaps the continuation—of a film production tradition in Ekiti State.
This moment must be institutionalized.
Ekiti should begin to think boldly about establishing a Film Village through collaboration between government and private investors.
Why not?
If other places can build creative economies around cinema, tourism, and culture, why not Ekiti?
We already possess:
• Rich history
• Beautiful landscapes
• Hills and forests
• Cultural festivals
• Folklore
• Intellectual tradition
• Talented youth
• Relative peace and security
These are assets.
A Film Village can become:
• A production hub
• A tourism destination
• A training centre
• A technology cluster
• An employment generator
• A cultural archive
• A creative incubator
It can attract:
• Filmmakers
• Investors
• Actors
• Editors
• Animators
• Costume designers
• Sound engineers
• Tourists
• Streaming companies
And most importantly, it can create jobs.
Thousands of jobs.
Not only for actors but for carpenters, caterers, drivers, welders, tailors, makeup artists, hoteliers, photographers, and digital marketers.
This is how creative economies grow.
The future belongs to places that can convert culture into enterprise.
Africa today is hungry for stories.
Our stories.
Not recycled foreign realities.
The world is increasingly curious about African voices, African humour, African spirituality, African history, and African imagination.
Who will tell these stories if not you?
Who will dramatize the wisdom of Yoruba proverbs, the tragedy of corruption, the beauty of our festivals, and the resilience of our people?
This generation of theatre students must become cultural warriors and economic actors at the same time.
You must also learn discipline.
Talent without discipline is entertainment without longevity.
Many people go viral; few build enduring careers.
The difference is discipline.
Wake up early.�Create consistently.�Read widely.�Study trends.�Understand business.�Protect your reputation.�Develop professionalism.
Today, your social media page is your résumé.
Finally, let me say this.
Do not despise humble beginnings.
The world may celebrate celebrities, but behind every celebrated artist is usually a season of obscurity, sacrifice, rejection, hunger, and persistence.
Some of you sitting here today may become continental stars.
Some may build Africa’s biggest content companies.
Some may redefine African cinema.
Some may create platforms that employ hundreds.
But it will not happen by wishing.
It will happen by creating.
Relentlessly.
Fearlessly.
Consistently.
The future of theatre is no longer confined to the stage.
The stage is now everywhere.
On YouTube.
On TikTok.
On Instagram.
On Netflix.
On streaming platforms.
On mobile phones.
The curtain has risen on a new era.
May you not merely watch the performance of others.
May you become creators of the new African story.
Thank you.
Theatre, Creativity, and the Future of the Entertainment Economy in Ekiti and Africa
Being a Lecture Delivered to the Students and Faculty of the Department of Theatre Arts, Ekiti State University
By Babafemi Ojudu
There is a story I once heard about a travelling theatre troupe many years ago in Yorubaland.
The actors had journeyed from town to town performing under difficult conditions. No luxury buses. No sophisticated lighting. No air-conditioned halls. Sometimes they performed in village squares. Sometimes in school compounds. Sometimes under trees.
On one particular evening, rain began to fall heavily in the middle of a performance. The audience scattered in all directions. The drummers rushed to protect their instruments. Costumes became soaked. Everything appeared ruined.
But then something remarkable happened.
An old woman in the crowd turned back and shouted:�“Why are you all running? These people are carrying our stories!”
Slowly, the crowd returned.
The actors continued their performance in the rain.
Ladies and gentlemen, that single statement captures the eternal importance of theatre and storytelling.
“These people are carrying our stories.”
Theatre is not merely entertainment.
It is memory.
It is identity.
It is culture.
It is protest.
It is history.
It is imagination.
And in the modern world, it is also becoming one of the greatest economic opportunities available to young Africans.
Today, I have not come merely to speak to you about acting.
I have come to speak to you about survival, relevance, innovation, enterprise, and the future.
Because the world you are entering is radically different from the world your lecturers entered many years ago.
The stage has changed.
The audience has changed.
Technology has changed.
And therefore the theatre artist must also change.
A few years ago, somewhere in Lagos, a young man stood under a bridge with nothing but a cheap phone, two friends, and a borrowed ring light. They had no studio, no sponsors, no television station waiting for them, and no rich parents funding their dreams. What they had was talent, humour, timing, and the courage to start.
They began producing one-minute skits and posting them online.
People laughed.
Then they shared.
Then advertisers came.
Today, that same young man flies business class across Africa, signs endorsement deals worth millions, employs dozens of young people, and is recognized on the streets from Accra to Nairobi.
That is the world you are entering.
A world where talent no longer waits for permission.
A world where a smartphone can become a television station.
Where creativity has become currency.
And where theatre arts students have one of the greatest opportunities in human history—if only they can see it.
For too long, many of our institutions have unconsciously prepared students mainly for certificates and paid employment. Yet the painful truth confronting Nigeria today is that paid employment is shrinking while opportunities for creators are exploding.
The old economy is weakening.
The creative economy is rising.
The question therefore is not merely:�“Can you act?”
The more important question is:�Can you create value with your talent?
Can you turn imagination into enterprise?
Can you turn performance into influence and income?
Can you employ yourself and eventually employ others?
This is the challenge before theatre students today.
The entertainment industry is no longer limited to stage drama or television acting alone. It has expanded dramatically.
Today, a theatre graduate can function as:
* Actor
* Script writer
* Content creator
* Digital comedian
* Film producer
* Voice-over artist
* Event compere
* Creative director
* Social media influencer
* YouTuber
* TikTok performer
* Documentary maker
* Brand storyteller
* Podcaster
* Talent manager
* Online instructor
* Media strategist
* Cultural curator
And many more.
In truth, the modern world has unknowingly prepared itself for theatre people.
Why?
Because theatre trains communication.
It teaches expression, storytelling, emotional intelligence, improvisation, movement, persuasion, confidence, and audience engagement.
These are now among the most valuable skills in the global digital economy.
Look around social media today. What dominates the space?
Performance.
Drama.
Presentation.
Humour.
Storytelling.
Theatre students therefore must stop seeing themselves merely as job seekers. They must begin to see themselves as creators, entrepreneurs, and cultural exporters.
Permit me to give you a contemporary example that should inspire every theatre student sitting here today.
Many of you know the music sensation Asake as a global star filling arenas across Europe, America, and Africa. What many may not know is that Asake studied Theatre Arts at Obafemi Awolowo University, where he obtained a diploma.
As a student, he was known not merely for singing but for performance. He understood movement, rhythm, stagecraft, dance, expression, and audience psychology. He was particularly gifted in dance and physical performance.
After school, survival was difficult. There was no guaranteed employment waiting for him. No instant fame. No easy breakthrough.
Then came an idea.
He borrowed from the energy and rhythm of Fuji music, added contemporary street poetry and lyrics, infused it with spectacular choreography and theatrical movement, and suddenly something extraordinary happened.
People could not merely listen to him; they had to watch him.
That is theatre.
That is performance intelligence.
That is creativity meeting opportunity.
And pronto, the young man who once walked around a university campus searching for survival exploded onto the world stage.
Today, Asake is not merely a singer. He is a performer, a cultural export, a global brand, and an employer of labour.
What made the difference?
He understood something many young people still do not understand: success in modern entertainment is not merely about talent. It is about originality, identity, performance, and the courage to innovate from your roots.
He did not abandon his cultural foundation.
He transformed local sound into global appeal.
That is exactly what theatre students in Ekiti must begin to think about.
What stories can you tell from Ekiti?
What local humour can you export?
What folklore can you dramatize?
What dances can you modernize?
What myths from our forests and hills can become global cinema?
What if the next global streaming sensation emerges from Ikere, Ijero, Ilawe, Iyin, Oye, or Ado Ekiti?
The next continental star may already be sitting in this hall today, unknown even to himself or herself.
During your student days, you should already be producing content.
Do not wait until graduation.
The smartphone in your pocket is already a production studio.
You can create:
* Campus comedy skits
* Short films
* Spoken word performances
* Political satire
* Relationship comedy
* Yoruba folklore adaptations
* Dance theatre
* Historical reenactments
* Educational drama
* Podcasts and interviews
* Cultural documentaries
The beauty of social media is that it rewards consistency more than perfection.
Some of the biggest creators today started with poor lighting, shaky cameras, and rough editing.
What sustained them was persistence.
You must therefore learn not only theatre but also:
* Video editing
* Sound design
* Branding
* Audience engagement
* Digital marketing
* Monetization systems
* Social media algorithms
A theatre graduate who understands these is already ahead of the future.
But beyond individual success lies something even more important.
The need to build an Ekiti creative ecosystem.
We must not merely produce isolated stars.
We must build an industry.
Ekiti must begin to consciously create a theatre and film tradition.
And the good news is that we are not starting from zero.
Long before social media, long before Netflix, long before streaming platforms, pioneers like Jimoh Aliu and his fellow creators had already laid the foundation of indigenous storytelling and travelling theatre culture in Yorubaland.
They carried culture from town to town.
They created memorable characters.
They brought Yoruba language and folklore alive.
They built audiences without modern technology.
That tradition must not die.
It must evolve.
And this is where government and the private sector must work together.
I commend the Ekiti State Government for reportedly sponsoring the production of the Kiriji War movie to the tune of about one billion naira.
That is visionary.
That is strategic.
That is how serious societies begin to build creative industries.
And now we hear rumours that global platforms like Netflix may be interested in taking up the film for distribution at a huge financial value.
If that happens, it will prove something important.
That our stories have value.
That our history has commercial potential.
That culture itself can become an economy.
The Kiriji War project therefore should not be seen as an isolated intervention.
It should be seen as the beginning—or perhaps the continuation—of a film production tradition in Ekiti State.
This moment must be institutionalized.
Ekiti should begin to think boldly about establishing a Film Village through collaboration between government and private investors.
Why not?
If other places can build creative economies around cinema, tourism, and culture, why not Ekiti?
We already possess:
* Rich history
* Beautiful landscapes
* Hills and forests
* Cultural festivals
* Folklore
* Intellectual tradition
* Talented youth
* Relative peace and security
These are assets.
A Film Village can become:
* A production hub
* A tourism destination
* A training centre
* A technology cluster
* An employment generator
* A cultural archive
* A creative incubator
It can attract:
* Filmmakers
* Investors
* Actors
* Editors
* Animators
* Costume designers
* Sound engineers
* Tourists
* Streaming companies
And most importantly, it can create jobs.
Thousands of jobs.
Not only for actors but for carpenters, caterers, drivers, welders, tailors, makeup artists, hoteliers, photographers, and digital marketers.
This is how creative economies grow.
The future belongs to places that can convert culture into enterprise.
Africa today is hungry for stories.
Our stories.
Not recycled foreign realities.
The world is increasingly curious about African voices, African humour, African spirituality, African history, and African imagination.
Who will tell these stories if not you?
Who will dramatize the wisdom of Yoruba proverbs, the tragedy of corruption, the beauty of our festivals, and the resilience of our people?
This generation of theatre students must become cultural warriors and economic actors at the same time.
You must also learn discipline.
Talent without discipline is entertainment without longevity.
Many people go viral; few build enduring careers.
The difference is discipline.
Wake up early.�Create consistently.�Read widely.�Study trends.�Understand business.�Protect your reputation.�Develop professionalism.
Today, your social media page is your résumé.
Finally, let me say this.
Do not despise humble beginnings.
The world may celebrate celebrities, but behind every celebrated artist is usually a season of obscurity, sacrifice, rejection, hunger, and persistence.
Some of you sitting here today may become continental stars.
Some may build Africa’s biggest content companies.
Some may redefine African cinema.
Some may create platforms that employ hundreds.
But it will not happen by wishing.
It will happen by creating.
Relentlessly.
Fearlessly.
Consistently.
The future of theatre is no longer confined to the stage.
The stage is now everywhere.
On YouTube.
On TikTok.
On Instagram.
On Netflix.
On streaming platforms.
On mobile phones.
The curtain has risen on a new era.
May you not merely watch the performance of others.
May you become creators of the new African story.
Thank you.