Kwam1 Airport Imbroglio: The Bastardisation of Influence

By Gharny Yeku

The recent airport fracas involving Fuji maestro and cultural icon, King Wasiu Ayinde Marshal, popularly known as Kwam1, has once again dragged into public view an unsettling feature of Nigerian society: the misuse of influence by the elite and the celebrated. While many incidents of celebrity misconduct slip quietly through the cracks, this one—caught in the full glare of social media and public scrutiny—has rightly sparked national debate.

What transpired may seem trivial to some: a heated moment, a flash of temper, a reaction to procedural hiccups. Yet it is far more insidious. It reflects how influence, instead of being wielded with dignity and discretion, is often bastardised into a weapon of intimidation and entitlement.

The Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, Abuja—where the incident occurred—is no ordinary backdrop. It is a symbol of national order and one of the few public spaces where protocol, security, and due process are meant to be non-negotiable. Yet when a figure like Kwam1—musician, traditional titleholder, and cultural ambassador—allegedly loses composure, berates airport officials, and attempts to override established security procedures, it signals something far more troubling than celebrity impatience. It exposes a pattern in which societal figures, once entrusted with platforms to inspire and elevate, choose instead to erode publicly the very systems they ought to respect.

Kwam1 is not just a performer; he holds the traditional title of Mayegun of Yorubaland, a revered position that implies statesmanship, cultural stewardship, and a duty to embody the values of the Yoruba people. That such a figure would become embroiled in a public scene over airport protocol raises important cultural questions. Titles in traditional institutions are not ornamental; they are symbolic trusts. If titleholders behave in ways that disgrace these trusts, what becomes of the respect such institutions command? Are we to continue issuing cultural honours without any expectation of moral consistency?

Even more disturbing is the institutional response—or lack thereof. In many advanced democracies, even the most prominent public figures are held accountable for disruptive behaviour in controlled spaces like airports. But in Nigeria, institutions often buckle under the weight of celebrity. Reports from the scene suggest that rather than assert order, some airport staff sought to appease the musician. This reflects not only weak enforcement capacity but also a deeper societal conditioning that places fame above discipline. When institutions, out of fear or admiration, lose their ability to enforce rules equitably, the very idea of order collapses.

Public reaction to the imbroglio has been predictably divided. Some have called out Kwam1’s conduct as arrogant and unbecoming, while others have defended him, citing provocation or past frustrations with airport inefficiency. But herein lies yet another problem with our tendency to excuse misconduct when it comes from people we admire. The phenomenon of the “untouchable celebrity” is not new in Nigeria, but it is becoming dangerously normalised. It breeds a culture where the powerful can do no wrong, where bad behaviour is rebranded as assertiveness, and where impunity wears the mask of charisma.

Influence, in any decent society, should be exercised with humility and a sense of public responsibility. It should be the force that calms chaos, not what ignites it. When influential figures behave badly, it sets a damaging precedent—particularly for younger generations watching from the sidelines. If a cultural icon can trample on public rules without remorse, what message does that send to the average citizen already disillusioned by the selective application of justice?

We must also reflect on how traditional institutions respond to such matters. When a titleholder’s actions bring ridicule to the cultural values they are meant to protect, should the custodians of these titles remain silent? The power of traditional titles lies not just in their pomp, but in their integrity. If there are no consequences for public misconduct, we risk reducing revered honours to mere ceremonial accessories, devoid of meaning or expectation.

Nigeria is a country already battling deep institutional decay. The last thing it needs is for its most visible figures to compound that decay by turning influence into a private plaything. What happened at the airport is not just about Kwam1; it is about a broader culture of elite impunity, a warped understanding of power, and a public that often cheers when it should challenge. It is about the fragile state of our institutions and the urgency of redefining public conduct.

As the dust settles on this incident, we must ask ourselves hard questions. Will we continue to indulge a system where fame shields people from accountability? Will traditional institutions begin to draw clear moral lines for those who wear their titles? Will public figures begin to see influence not as immunity, but as a responsibility to set the tone for a saner society?

Until we begin collectively to answer these questions with action, the bastardisation of influence will remain a defining feature of Nigerian public life—loud, unrepentant, and, sadly, applauded.

Gharny Yeku Wrote from Abeokuta, the Ogun State Capital. He can be reached via: ganny1911@gmail.com