Today’s social media influencers and celebrities wield a kind of power that was once reserved for presidents, prophets, and philosophers. In some cases, their influence outpaces that of respected religious leaders. If I am being honest, there are influencers whose opinions carry more weight than the Sunday sermon. More people are reshaping their beliefs based on a TikTok soundbite than a well-studied scripture. And it’s not just Gen Zs. Millennials are right there too. Even Gen X, the so-called skeptics, are increasingly caught in the tide, resharing reels and quoting people they’ve never met but somehow trust.
A 21-year-old beauty vlogger in Lagos or Nairobi can tweet something today, and by tomorrow, it’s not just on blogs; it’s in dinner table conversations, on radio shows, in WhatsApp groups and even in Sunday sermons. We’ve moved far beyond the days when influence was earned through decades of scholarship, leadership, or community work. Now, all it takes is a phone, a following, and the algorithm’s favour.
Sometimes, it feels like if not for the presence of structured government systems with courts, parliaments, and constitutions, the opinions of these digital celebrities would have become laws. We might already be living in a world where trending hashtags are legislation. Such is the gravity of digital fame today. One tweet, one Instagram story, one snarky comment on a podcast can spark nationwide debates. Entire media cycles now orbit around what a certain influencer said, didn’t say, wore, liked, retweeted, or meant to say but fumbled. It’s bizarre when you think about it. In a country of millions, trending topics for days can revolve around whether someone cheated, unfollowed another influencer, or made a tone-deaf comment in a video.
What once would have stayed in gossip columns is now shaping real-world decisions. Relationships are ending over podcast clips. Churches are preaching against influencers. Parents are defending or banning TikTok because of one video. And all the while, the influencers at the centre of it often remain detached — eyes fixed on their engagement rate.
The mistake we often make is thinking this is all harmless entertainment. A funny meme here, a viral trend there. But that overlooks how social media influence has crept into every sphere of life — politics, fashion, religion, social behaviour, and even moral judgment.
Take politics, for instance. Politicians now court influencers more aggressively than they court journalists. Why? Because they know people don’t wait for the evening news anymore. They get their opinions from Twitter threads and TikTok explainers. Influencers now host political roundtables, endorse candidates, call out governments, and in some cases, cause ministers to respond publicly, just to manage the optics.
Young voters are being swayed not by manifestos but by viral interviews and Twitter threads crafted by media-savvy creators. A clip of someone laughing at a presidential candidate is more influential than a policy breakdown. When these influencers endorse a candidate even passively, it ripples. It’s strategic. It works.
Fashion and lifestyle? Forget Vogue. Forget the runway. One Instagram post from the right person and your local tailor is suddenly making that dress. Entire aesthetics are born from curated bedrooms and mirror selfies. What was once eccentric is now aspirational. What was once taboo is now cool. And all of it spreads in seconds.
Even religion hasn’t been spared. We’re seeing the rise of digital pastors, spiritual influencers, and Instagram theologians. They post scripture in aesthetically pleasing fonts, mix it with self-love quotes, and create viral sermons that often have no theological depth but get millions of views. Faith, for many, has become more of a vibe than a conviction. And the lines between motivation, faith, and influencer branding have blurred beyond recognition. Some of these influencers wield more moral authority over their audience than traditional clergy. Their worldview becomes doctrine, not because it’s right but because it’s relatable.
Influence or Manipulation?
None of this is inherently bad. Influence, by itself, is neutral. But when it starts to masquerade as truth or worse, authority without accountability, things start to go off track.
Many influencers want the attention, the admiration, and the clout but not the responsibility. They want the stage but not the weight that comes with holding a mic.
They tell you how to eat, how to think, how to vote, how to love, and when it backfires? When someone gets hurt or misled? They retreat behind a familiar line: “I never told anyone to do it.”
It’s a script, rehearsed and repeated. “I was just sharing my opinion.”
“People should think for themselves.” “I didn’t ask to be a role model.”
And yet, every post, every collaboration, and every opinion they voice is designed to guide your thinking. To make you want what they have. To make you do what they do. To shift your perception — subtly, consistently, expertly. Let’s not pretend otherwise.
We’ve seen it all. Influencers with no medical training recommending fasting routines that border on starvation. Financial “gurus” with zero qualifications pushing high-risk investments to people with nothing to spare. Relationship “coaches” normalising toxicity. All of it cloaked in aesthetics and relatability. Until the curtain is pulled back.
When a scandal breaks or someone finally questions the logic, the cycle of evasion begins. Notes app apologies. Instagram hiatuses. Carefully worded statements that say everything and nothing. And then — silence. Or worse, a comeback stronger than before, as if nothing happened. And the influence machine rolls on.
Our Complicity
They don’t do this alone. We help them. We follow, like, retweet, share, and repost. We elevate people without questioning them. We reward chaos and charisma over character. We consume content like candy: addictive, sugary, and often, hollow. We demand vulnerability but punish any sign of actual weakness. We claim to want authenticity, but we scroll past it to double-tap the chaos. We love underdogs until they become successful, then tear them down for “changing.”
We forget influencers are human, then demand they act superhuman. And perhaps worst of all, we forget that every like, share, and comment is a vote — a little piece of power handed over.
We are complicit in the rise of unchecked influence.
So where does this leave us?
In an age where the algorithm determines influence and influence shapes culture, we need to start having honest conversations — not just about who we follow, but why. What makes us trust someone with no real-life expertise? Why do we let certain people shape our opinions more than teachers, parents, or even faith leaders? What is it about the curated chaos of influencer culture that makes us suspend logic and discernment?
The truth is, influence is not going away. And not all influencers are reckless. Many influencers have used their platforms for good — raising awareness, funding causes, creating jobs, and amplifying voices that would otherwise go unheard. But with that power must come clarity, self-awareness, and a greater sense of duty — not just from them, but from us.
Influence doesn’t have to be manipulative. Influence is not the same as truth. Popularity is not the same as wisdom.
We need to be better followers. More discerning. Slower to idolise. Faster to question. We need to stop confusing virality for value and visibility for virtue.
Because if we’re not careful, we won’t just be following people online; we’ll be following them into places we never meant to go.
Stay frosty.
