I was the father of Olumide’s love interest in an unreleased music video shot in Brooklyn in 2014. Famous Nigerian filmmaker Kemi Adetiba directed the video. I don’t know why it was not released, but my experience on that set was eye-opening and showed me what fame is from the inside. Despite the abundance of substances to enhance personality and performance, the loneliness in Olumide’s eyes was palpable. 

It verified what I had always suspected – being famous is like being a peacock on the stage. While you perform, the rest of the world takes selfies with you. Like a pigeon in a cage, those outside struggle to get in, while those inside are looking for a way to be free.

At the height of her fame, Whitney Houston once cried out that she didn’t want to be famous and that all she wanted to be was a singer. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. The modern world’s celebrity culture exerts a price on those it lets into that exclusive club. Looking at it from the outside does not give us a good picture of what is happening in the minds of these people we have come to adore. The young girl who played my daughter also noticed that in Olumide. She worked extra hard to get him out of his shell and into his element.

Despite the entourage around celebrities, there is no deep connection to rely on, just as Facebook friends are not available to help someone move. Isolation is often overwhelming as mistrust of people is the overwhelming sentiment. It impacts those who came around after fame happened, while betrayal fuels the distrust of those who were there before fame.

Nothing prepares you for fame. It is an unnatural state of being. Even princes and princesses born into fame and brought up from infancy expecting it do not adjust well. Only those who do not know fame love it, pursue it and embrace it. Like a two-faced knife, when it shows its other face, hatred and blood follow. Unfortunately, only some can unwind fame by themselves. 

Career success, privileges, and wealth emanate from the fame that it is inconceivable to turn one back on the face. What celebrities do is to accept it with all the inconveniences and adapt to its daily demands. Like a hungry shrine, a celebrity is required to offer fame its routine chicken and goat and palm wine that it devours to keep doing its job.

Over time, the authentic self dissolves and disappears while the celebrity self takes centre stage. For some, it is difficult to switch off the celebrity self. Over time, the authentic self becomes a stranger. Nothing scares the famous as seeing the sign that the expiration date of fame is coming. Having become used to the blinding lights and having adopted their new self, with values and authenticity locked out, from the emerging confusion comes narcissism.

The other day, Rihanna flew into Jamnagar, India, to perform at the pre-wedding of the youngest son of India’s most prominent business tycoon, Mukesh Ambani. The chairman of Reliance Industries paid Rihanna $ 9 million for a 90-minute performance. Among those who attended the events were Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerberg, Ivanka Trump, and the richest and most powerful. Though Rihanna is worth over one billion dollars, the weight in gold of people in the audience must have humbled her.

When the video of Rihanna’s performance came out, the reviews were not good. Reviewers accused her of being lazy and boring. Some called her a scammer for not putting in effort. People expecting her to display the kind of performance they were used to when they attended her concert were disappointed at what they saw. 

If Rihanna were unseasoned, these harsh criticisms could drive her over the edge, just as they have driven crazy several entertainers throughout the ages. Whether it is Amy Winehouse, River Phoenix, or Michael Jackson, the demons that fame unleashes are often overwhelming.

And the criticism may not be founded. Rihanna’s manner of performance could have followed an agreed style that fitted the occasion and the cultural sensitivity of the family. It could be a matter of what was possible within the confines of the stage. It could be that she is pregnant with another baby. It could be one hundred and one reasons, but that does not matter to the reviewers, who might not even be at the event. 

These reviewers own their celebrities and expect a certain level of performance from them at any point. Otherwise, the backlash is swift and harsh. None of the reviewers would pause to ponder what was happening in the entertainer’s mind.

If you have been a performer, you may know the difference between performing for fans and performing as a hired hand for someone’s aggrandisement. Performing for someone who wants to brag that she was at my son’s wedding gives a different feeling than performing for her fans at O arena. Tina Turner alluded to this in her song, “Private Dancer.” In the song, Turner illustrates the difference between what she does as a private dancer who dances for money and does whatever the payee wants her to do and her regular life as a musician. A beginner in the industry may not be battling these conflicts the way an established and successful performer like Rihanna would.

While appearing on the On Purpose with Jay Shetty podcast, Kevin Hart noted that “The biggest drug, it’s not cocaine, it’s not heroin, it’s not molly or opioids,” he said. “The biggest drug is fame.”

The stand-up comedian continued, “And the reason why it’s the biggest drug [is] it makes you feel like you are powerful and like everywhere you go, anything you want, everything you want. It’s a thing, and if you can’t handle this thing, the consequences attached to when that thing is removed are severe. Nobody prepares you for the world of fame. There is no handbook.”

Most people do not know this, but what entertainers do, psychologically, is difficult. They practically prostitute themselves to entertain others. It reminds me of the boxer in The Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. He is fully aware of the caricature he is making of himself for the edification of others. It is something that only those who have ventured into that world will understand. 

That is related to why the likes of Robin Williams, Ernest Hemingway, and others killed themselves. When they feel they cannot give any more of themselves or that what they have inside does not measure where they used to be. An African may not use drugs or rope but other self-destructive behaviours to cope with the side effects of fame. It all boils down to the same thing. I don’t know if any other profession faces a similar insurmountable dilemma.

It may be a great feeling that fame makes the celebrity feel important. But feeling important must not come at the price of their mental and physical health. One way out is for a celebrity to go beyond being a celebrity for celebrity’s sake and to pursue a purposeful life that finds fulfilment in something bigger than the self. And as Ras Kimono said, “It is very nice to be important, but it is very important to be nice.”

Maybe if the 2014 Olumide music video had been released and I had become a celebrity, I wouldn’t be here with you, regular folks, writing nonsense about celebrities who live lives that most of us only dreamed about. Maybe.

Rudolf Ogoo Okonkwo teaches Post-Colonial African History at the School of Visual Arts in New York City. He is also the host of Dr. Damages Show. His books include “This American Life Sef” and “Children of a Retired God,” among others. His upcoming book is called “Why I’m Disappointed in Jesus.”