Reflections – Why I Chose to Build My Own Platform Instead of Chasing Social Media

I have been on social media since its earliest days. I have created many accounts over the years, built audiences from nothing, and in some cases grown them into hundreds of thousands of followers. And then, one day, without warning, those accounts disappeared.

No explanation that truly made sense.
No appeal process that felt human.
Just years of work erased overnight.

Every system we admire today started as someone’s quiet decision to stop asking for permission.

Williams O. omodunefe

Each time it happened, I was forced to start again from scratch.

At some point, a realization hit me: my success on social media was never really mine. I was like a soldier ant, tirelessly working on an anthill that I did not own. I could invest time, creativity, and discipline, but the platform ultimately decided who stayed visible and who vanished.

It didn’t matter how consistent you were.
It didn’t matter how valuable your ideas were.
It didn’t even matter how large your audience had grown.

The platform always had the final say.

Over time, I also noticed something else. Social media doesn’t just reward effort, it rewards performance. Not excellence. Not depth. Performance. To be favored, you often have to distort yourself, exaggerate your personality, or manufacture outrage and drama. You have to bend who you are to fit what the algorithm currently wants to promote.

That environment is not built for everyone.

I am not wired for constant noise or performative chaos. I am naturally laid back. I thrive in spaces where ideas matter, where conversations are slow, thoughtful, and grounded. I value clarity over virality. Depth over speed. Meaning over metrics.

So I made a decision that many would consider counter-intuitive in today’s world: I stepped away from social media and began building my own platform.

A space where I own my work.
A space where no algorithm decides whether my voice deserves to be heard.
A space where I control what I publish, when I publish, and how I grow.

I understand the trade-off. I know I won’t “blow up” overnight the way people do on social media. There will be no sudden virality, no artificial spikes of attention. Growth here will be slower, quieter, and harder.

But it will be real.

As Africans, we often choose the easiest route: consuming platforms built elsewhere, playing by rules designed by people who don’t share our realities, and celebrating visibility without ownership. Yet the hardest path, building, owning, and controlling our own systems, is the one that leads to long-term power.

This platform may start as a personal blog. But who knows what it could become tomorrow? A publishing ecosystem. A civic platform. Maybe even a social network, built by an African, run by Africans, and designed for African realities.

Every system we admire today started as someone’s quiet decision to stop asking for permission.

We need to learn how to take the difficult ground.
We need to stop trading our identities for attention.
We need to stop consuming endlessly and start producing intentionally.

Ownership may not trend.
But it endures.