There is a fundamental flaw in the comparison being made between two women from different societies.
The difference is not that there are more women of the same age and gender in Society A posting frivolous content online than there are in Society B.
There are unserious people everywhere.
There are intelligent people everywhere.
There are people producing shallow content everywhere.
There are people having profound conversations everywhere.
So the question should not simply be:
“Why does this woman in Society B behave differently from her equivalent in Society A?”
The more important question is:
“Why am I being shown this particular person in the first place?”
That is where the algorithm enters the conversation.
You Are Confusing Visibility With Reality
Social media does not provide a neutral window into society.
It provides a highly filtered version of society.
Millions of people post content every day. The overwhelming majority of that content will never reach a large audience. Algorithms decide what gets recommended, what appears repeatedly on timelines, what receives additional distribution and what disappears almost immediately.
That means the person you encounter most frequently online is not necessarily the most representative person in that society.
They may simply be the person the algorithm has decided is most likely to generate engagement.
And that distinction is enormously important.
If you repeatedly see an African woman making low-quality jokes, having shallow arguments or engaging in trivial online conversations, you can eventually begin to associate those behaviours with African women generally.
But the algorithm hasn't shown you African women.
It has shown you an algorithmically selected African woman.
Those are not the same thing.
There Are Adenikes Everywhere
The argument becomes even weaker when you imagine applying the same standard universally.
Of course Society A has women of the same age producing frivolous content.
They are everywhere.
You can find them on TikTok.
You can find them on X.
You can find them on Instagram.
You can find them on YouTube.
You can find them on television.
You can find them in reality shows and celebrity culture.
The existence of frivolous people is not the interesting part.
The interesting part is which frivolous people become globally visible.
If Society A controls many of the platforms through which Society B consumes global culture, it possesses enormous influence over what people in Society B repeatedly encounter.
That doesn't require a secret meeting in a dark room.
It doesn't require an algorithm explicitly saying:
“Make Africans feel inferior.”
Algorithms don't need to operate that consciously.
They optimise for engagement.
And engagement often rewards controversy, outrage, spectacle, sexuality, conflict, novelty and easily digestible entertainment.
The result can nevertheless produce a powerful cultural effect.
The Algorithm Can Manufacture a Sense of Representation
Imagine that there are 10 million young women in Society B.
Suppose:
- 1 million are highly educated;
- 2 million are entrepreneurs;
- 500,000 are scientists, engineers, doctors and researchers;
- hundreds of thousands are artists and writers;
- millions are ordinary people living ordinary lives;
- and a relatively small number are producing extremely frivolous viral content.
Now imagine that the algorithm repeatedly promotes the latter group to audiences outside Society B.
A foreign viewer may eventually conclude:
“This is what young women in Society B are like.”
But that conclusion would be absurd.
It would be like judging an entire country by its most viral TikTok videos.
Yet this happens constantly.
Social media creates a peculiar illusion:
the most visible becomes the most representative.
And it isn't.
Who Controls the Window Controls Part of the Narrative
There is a deeper geopolitical dimension to this.
Much of the world's dominant social-media infrastructure is controlled by companies headquartered outside Africa.
The platforms may be global, but their corporate structures, technological infrastructure, moderation systems, recommendation algorithms and commercial incentives are not culturally neutral.
That gives the societies that dominate global technology enormous soft power.
They don't necessarily need to tell people what to believe.
They can influence what people see before they form an opinion.
That distinction is profound.
Because if you control the information environment, you don't necessarily have to control the conclusion.
You can influence the inputs.
The user then reaches the conclusion independently.
This Is How Inferiority Can Become Internalised
This is where the comparison becomes psychologically dangerous.
A young African person repeatedly sees:
- Western cities portrayed as sophisticated;
- Western universities portrayed as centres of intellectual excellence;
- Western influencers portrayed as glamorous;
- Western entrepreneurs portrayed as innovative;
- Western lifestyles portrayed as aspirational;
while simultaneously being shown African content dominated by:
- poverty;
- corruption;
- relationship drama;
- political dysfunction;
- religious extremism;
- unserious celebrity culture;
- street fights;
- low-quality arguments;
- sensationalism.
Eventually, something happens.
The person begins to internalise the hierarchy.
They don't need anyone to explicitly tell them:
“You are inferior.”
They begin saying it themselves.
That is arguably more powerful.
Because an externally imposed hierarchy can be resisted.
An internally accepted hierarchy becomes part of one's worldview.
The White Woman Does Not Have to Be Exceptional
This is another uncomfortable part of the discussion.
The argument does not require the white woman in the comparison to be extraordinarily intelligent.
She doesn't have to be.
She may be completely ordinary.
She may say things that are shallow.
She may post nonsense.
She may have exactly the same flaws as the African woman being criticised.
The difference is that the audience may interpret the two differently.
One is perceived as an individual.
The other is unconsciously treated as a representative.
That is the hidden asymmetry.
When a white woman behaves foolishly, she is often allowed to remain an individual.
When an African woman behaves foolishly, people can suddenly begin making conclusions about:
African women.
African culture.
Africa.
African education.
African society.
That is an enormous intellectual leap.
The Comparison Itself Can Become a Colonial Exercise
There is nothing inherently wrong with comparing cultures.
Comparative analysis can be useful.
But comparisons become intellectually dishonest when they begin with an assumption that one society is the benchmark and the other is the specimen being examined.
The question becomes:
“Why aren't they like us?”
rather than:
“What explains the differences we are observing?”
That is the language of hierarchy rather than inquiry.
And colonialism was built partly around precisely this kind of hierarchy.
Europe was presented as modern.
Africa was presented as primitive.
Europe represented civilisation.
Africa represented backwardness.
European knowledge was universal.
African knowledge was local folklore.
Even today, these assumptions can survive in remarkably subtle forms.
You Are Not Seeing Society B
You are seeing a feed.
That distinction should never be forgotten.
Your feed is not a census.
It is not an academic survey.
It is not a representative sample.
It is a commercial product.
The platform wants you to keep scrolling.
It therefore has an incentive to show you whatever keeps you engaged.
If conflict makes you angry, it may show you more conflict.
If outrage keeps you commenting, it may show you more outrage.
If a particular creator generates engagement, the system may continue distributing that creator.
Eventually, you may mistake algorithmic repetition for social reality.
It isn't.
And This Is Why the Comparison Feels So Convincing
The comparison resonates because it confirms an existing psychological narrative.
If someone already believes that Western society is more sophisticated than African society, then seeing a polished white influencer beside a chaotic African influencer appears to provide evidence.
But the evidence is carefully selected.
You aren't comparing two societies.
You're comparing:
one algorithmically selected individual
against
another algorithmically selected individual.
Then you're using those individuals to construct a theory about millions of people.
That is terrible methodology.
The Answer Is Not to Defend Bad Behaviour
None of this means that every African creator deserves praise simply because they are African.
Absolutely not.
If someone produces stupid content, criticise the content.
If someone spreads misinformation, challenge the misinformation.
If someone behaves badly, hold them accountable.
If someone is intellectually lazy, say so.
There should be no racial immunity from criticism.
But criticism should remain proportional.
An individual's foolishness should not become evidence of an entire people's inferiority.
That is the crucial distinction.
Africans Also Need to Take Responsibility
There is another uncomfortable truth.
African audiences sometimes participate in the process.
We share the content.
We amplify the outrage.
We fight in the comments.
We turn trivial personalities into celebrities.
We reward sensationalism.
We then complain that the world sees us through those personalities.
But algorithms respond to behaviour.
If millions of people continuously engage with low-quality content, the platforms will continue to distribute it.
So there is a responsibility on African audiences and creators too.
We need to support:
- serious journalism;
- African scientists;
- writers;
- filmmakers;
- entrepreneurs;
- researchers;
- engineers;
- artists;
- historians;
- educators;
- thoughtful commentators.
If we want the world to see more of these people, we must help create the demand for their visibility.
The Real Question We Should Be Asking
Instead of asking:
“Why are African women like Adenike?”
Ask:
“Why did the algorithm choose Adenike as the person you should see?”
Instead of asking:
“Why doesn't Africa produce people like her?”
Ask:
“How many people like her exist in Africa that you have never been shown?”
And instead of concluding:
“This proves Society A is superior to Society B,”
ask:
“What mechanisms determine which representatives of each society become globally visible?”
Those questions take us from emotional comparison to actual analysis.
Stop Letting Algorithms Define Your Self-Image
The most dangerous consequence isn't that someone else thinks Africans are inferior.
The more dangerous consequence is when Africans begin to believe it themselves.
When you repeatedly see the worst examples of your society and the most polished examples of another society, the comparison becomes psychologically rigged.
You begin comparing your backstage with somebody else's highlight reel.
And then you wonder why you feel inadequate.
That is why media literacy matters.
Understand who owns the platform.
Understand how recommendation systems work.
Understand engagement incentives.
Understand selection bias.
Understand that virality is not representativeness.
And most importantly:
Don't confuse visibility with value.
The World Is Bigger Than Your Timeline
There are brilliant African women doing extraordinary things that you may never encounter on your timeline.
There are brilliant European women whose content never goes viral.
There are foolish African men.
There are foolish European men.
There are brilliant Asian women.
There are shallow Asian influencers.
There are extraordinary people everywhere.
Human beings are not distributed according to racial stereotypes.
What differs dramatically is who receives attention.
And attention is increasingly one of the most powerful resources in the world.
The people who control distribution therefore possess enormous cultural power.
Conclusion: Don't Let Someone Else's Algorithm Become Your Mirror
The problem isn't that Adenike exists.
Let her exist.
She is entitled to her opinions, her jokes, her frivolity and her audience.
The problem begins when you take one highly visible person and use her as a measurement of an entire society.
And it becomes even more problematic when you compare her with a white counterpart whose visibility has been shaped by a completely different media ecosystem and then conclude that the difference proves the superiority of one society over another.
That isn't analysis.
It is algorithmically assisted stereotyping.
There are thousands, perhaps millions, of African women whose intelligence, creativity, scholarship, entrepreneurship and achievements you will never see if you allow your feed to determine the boundaries of your imagination.
So before you look at one viral African woman and conclude that she represents Africa, remember:
You are not looking at Africa.
You are looking at what the algorithm decided Africa should look like to you.
And if you accept that image without questioning how it was produced, then the algorithm doesn't merely control your feed.
It begins to control how you see yourself.
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