“There are two things you get out of being Nigerian,” he said. “You have the special skill to be adaptive and you have the special skill to be resilient.”
There was something familiar about the laughter that filled the RF Garden in Ikoyi, Lagos State during the staging of the performance, Hope Dealer on Saturday, 23rd May.
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On stage, the actors reenacted a common Nigerian reality — the quiet tension between parental expectations and personal dreams. In that enactment, a young personae struggled under the weight of a future already designed for him, while trying to discover who he truly wanted to become.
This inspired intermitent moments of exhiliration, and then quiet reflections in the audience. Many actually could see slices of their lives play out in the story.
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The Hope Dealer was staged as part of the 60th birthday celebration of lawyer, playwright, leadership educator and policy strategist, Adewale Ajadi. But beyond the celebration itself, the performance spoke to deeper concerns around identity, freedom and the difficult journey of self in a society that often decides people’s futures for them.
That message feels especially relevant in Nigeria today. For many young Nigerians, life increasingly feels like a negotiation between survival and self-discovery, with families wanting security for their children.
Society rewards conformity, while economic realities push many people toward careers and lifestyles they never truly wanted. In the middle of all that, gravitating towards a personal sense of identity is often treated as a luxury. Perhaps this is why the Hope Dealer found easy connection with many at the event. Beneath the humour and dramatic exchanges was a serious reflection on social pressure, expectation, and the courage required to define one’s own path.
At different moments during the production, Mr Ajadi himself stepped into various roles, drawing laughter and applause as he blended humour, storytelling and social commentary.
Asides the performance, he moved around the venue with unusual ease for someone being celebrated, dancing freely with guests, exchanging greetings warmly and interacting without any airs with the younger attendees who approached him throughout the evening.
There was nothing distant or performative about him.
Mr Ajadi’s own life reflects a different possibility. After studying Law at Obafemi Awolowo University and later expanding into leadership development, conflict resolution and governance work, he built a career that cuts across different fields and countries. According to his profile, his work has included leadership training, equality systems and peace-building initiatives in different parts of the world.
Speaking with PREMIUM TIMES during the celebration, Mr Ajadi reflected on the meaning of turning 60 as a Nigerian.
“Sixty years as a Nigerian and what you have seen and experienced is a privilege,” he said calmly. Particularly, in “a remarkable country with excellent stories.”
His was a most interesting way to look at a country many citizens now speak about mostly with frustration and exhaustion. Nigeria has become a difficult place for many people. Economic hardship continues to deepen. Young professionals increasingly look outside the country for opportunities. And public trust in institutions has weakened badly over the years.
Yet Nigerians continue to adapt.
Mr Ajadi believes that the ability to adjust and survive is one of the country’s defining qualities. “There are two things you get out of being Nigerian,” he said. “You have the special skill to be adaptive and you have the special skill to be resilient.”
He is right.
Anyone who has lived long enough in Nigeria understands that survival here requires constant reinvention. People adjust to inflation, insecurity, broken systems and uncertainty almost as a way of life.
But resilience can also become dangerous when society begins to depend on it too much.
A country cannot continue asking citizens to endure endlessly without building institutions that make life easier, fairer and more dignified. At some point, resilience stops being admirable and starts becoming evidence of failure around governance and public leadership. That is partly why the message inside the Hope Dealer matters beyond the theatre.
The play quietly challenges the culture of imposed destinies. It questions the idea that parents, society or systems should completely define who people become. It argues, instead, for the freedom to grow into one’s own identity.
“I’m far more a teacher,” he noted with a smile. “I teach about leadership and transformation and change.” That may explain why many people at the celebration described him less by his titles and more by his ability to connect with people. In a society increasingly driven by status and visibility, something was refreshing about that.
Nigeria needs more of this conversation.
Too many young people are trapped between expectation and reality. Some are pursuing careers chosen for them by family pressure. Others are simply trying to survive in systems that leave little room for creativity, individuality or personal growth.
Mr Ajadi’s own life reflects a different possibility. After studying Law at Obafemi Awolowo University and later expanding into leadership development, conflict resolution and governance work, he built a career that cuts across different fields and countries. According to his profile, his work has included leadership training, equality systems and peace-building initiatives in different parts of the world.
Still, throughout the evening, he appeared less interested in talking about achievements and more interested in discussing ideas, people and transformation.
“I’m far more a teacher,” he noted with a smile. “I teach about leadership and transformation and change.” That may explain why many people at the celebration described him less by his titles and more by his ability to connect with people. In a society increasingly driven by status and visibility, something was refreshing about that.
As the evening gradually came to an end and guests continued exchanging pleasantries around the venue, Mr Ajadi offered one final reflection on what life had taught him after six decades.
“Love is the greatest operating system,” he said softly. “If you operate on love, everything turns to light.”
It sounded simple.
But perhaps simplicity is exactly what makes certain truths endure.
Emmanuel Agbo is a reporter with PREMIUM TIMES covering judiciary, human rights, anti-corruption and governance issues.
