91����

This article is part of Had I Known, 91����’s theme for September 2025, where we explore Nigerian stories of regret and the lessons learnt. Read more Had I Known stories here.

In today’s world, one’s digital footprint can be as defining as your CV. Tweets, shares and retweets often outlive the moment they were posted, creating an online record that shapes how people see you, sometimes long after you’ve moved on.

For many young Nigerians, X (formerly Twitter) became more than just an app during the COVID-19 lockdown; it was a playground for jokes, trolling and “savage” replies that built massive followings. But what happens when the same online antics that once made you popular begin to clash with the seriousness of career ambitions and real-world opportunities?

Seye*, a 26-year-old music marketer and project manager, opens up on how trolling and amplifying porn online costs him opportunities and credibility in the industry he works in.

This is Seye’s* story as told to Marv.

I was a 21-year-old and a 200-level university student in 2020 when I started actively using X (it was called Twitter then). Before then, in 2018 and 2019, when I was new on the app, I’d log in and out of my account because I never really understood the app. I always heard friends who were frequent users talk about how funny people could be on the app, but I didn’t get the hype. They always joked and said something like, “You gats savage person before dem go savage you o.” That means one thing: to be a mean troll towards other users during unfriendly banters.

Screenshots of funny replies and trollings were constant posts on the WhatsApp status of my contacts, too. After COVID-19 completely hijacked the world, everywhere got locked down, and movements were restricted, my obsession with my phone multiplied. I fell deeper into X, where I virtually lived every day. Over time, I started to get the hang of it.

I began to engage people more, mostly through banter and witty comebacks. At first, it felt harmless. I was just being funny, trying to fit into the “savage culture.” People laughed, retweeted, and followed me because of my replies. The rush that came with getting notifications nonstop was addictive. Before long, I was that guy who was tagged under random tweets with “Come and finish work here.”

Then I took it a step further, and honestly, I can’t even explain why. I started amplifying porn on my timeline; retweeting, quote-tweeting, and just throwing it into the mix of everything else. It wasn’t because I had some goal in mind; it was just me being edgy, crazy and carefree.

Surprisingly, my followers didn’t really complain. The worst I got were playful drags like, “Omo, you be animal o” or “Shey you get life like this?” And then everyone would move on with their life.

For a while, it felt normal. It was part of my “brand” — so synonymous with me that even when a follower randomly saw porn on the TL, they’d jokingly mention that it was my doing. I always laughed it off. It didn’t matter to me.

By 2021, I had gathered a decent following, around 10 thousand followers, and I started thinking, “Maybe I can actually make money from this.” I watched other people around me become influencers and get campaigns. I wanted that too. I added “brand influencer” to my bio. I slowly reduced how I joked around and all the faffery.

But there was a problem.

I had built my entire presence on trolling and porn. It was hard to convince people I was “serious’ suddenly. I’d try to tweet thoughtfully or jump on brand-friendly trends, but people weren’t buying it. They expected jokes, chaos, and wild content from me. If I posted anything different, engagement would die. Still, I didn’t give up. I told myself it was just a matter of time before someone recognised that I was serious, and all I used to do was just cruise.

READ NEXT: Had I Known: 8 Nigerians On Celebrities They Regret Stanning

By mid-2022, reality started pressing me. I was in 300 level, closer to finishing school, and knew internships would open doors for me. I was fearful of life after school, whether it was at a job or a skill. 

My life on X wasn’t close to what I wanted for myself and my future, so I began applying for jobs, particularly in Lagos. I wanted to have the “big city” experience, too. But rejections soon piled up, and there wasn’t much time left before the resumption of school and the start of 400-level, the final year.

Then, one day, I stumbled upon and read a career thread that an X user made for undergraduates and fresh graduates about how they can create value for themselves. Some of the points made in the thread mentioned internships, mentorship, and volunteering. It made sense to me, and it became my next action. I started to pay attention to more career-related tweets for job openings, vacancies, and opportunities. Nothing was forthcoming until I returned to school.

One evening, around 4 p.m., while scrolling through my timeline, I saw a tweet from a music-industry mutual I respected that he was swamped with too much work, and he needed a personal assistant to make his life and work easier. Immediately, I went to his profile, clicked on the direct message icon and jumped into his DM to signify my interest. In my head, this was the perfect opportunity to get a shot at working in the music industry, learn, network and prove myself.

He read my message, but I didn’t get a response from him. After 24 hours, I tweeted at him to check his DM. Still, no response. 48 hours went by, and there was silence. Then, one of his friends replied to his tweet asking if he had found a PA. His response was, “No one solid yet.”

In that moment, ease left me. I was like, “As how?” He literally read my message. My throat became dry, and I felt very unimportant and useless. I went to DM him again to confirm I wasn’t imagining things. I even wrote another text and restated some of the things about my abilities and potential I had written in the first message to him. This time, he replied to me, but his words floored me.

He told me straight up: “You’re a cool guy, but honestly, you don’t look serious. I follow you and I see your online dramas. You’re not the kind of person I want for this.” Then he gave me a shocker: I had once told him to “fuck off” on the timeline before. I didn’t remember that I said that or even crossed him. I couldn’t believe that I did that and told him that that was long gone, I wasn’t that person anymore, and I had changed and become better. His final response to me was, “Lol, best you keep doing better. You’ll be alright, bro.”

That cut deep. For the first time, I had to face the fact that the version of me I had built online wasn’t harmless fun; it was my reputation. All those “savage” replies and porn retweets weren’t just posts people laughed at and scrolled past. They had created a picture of me that lingered, and it does not say, “Hire this guy.”

Even now, in random conversations, my friends still joke about it. Whenever I complain that someone is being mad or extra on the TL, they laugh and say, “pot is calling kettle black.”

After losing that opportunity, I opened a new account to start fresh. I focused on learning about the music business, running mini-campaigns for up-and-coming artists. Over time, I grew in capacity as a digital music promoter and project manager working with buzzing artists.

But despite my growth, that same mutual still sees me in the same light as a “Twitter nuisance.” In June last year, I had separate instances where I was supposed to work with two new popular talents under him, but he blocked it. He even informed the person who recommended me that I was a “weird guy.” 

When I explained my past, the person told me his friend was principled and I should move on. He advised me to find people in other industries to work with. I’m trying, but fear lingers that his influence might also shut doors for me with others.

Though I’m learning to build a “we move” mentality, it still frustrates me.

Whenever I think about the situation, I regret not realising sooner that every post was part of my digital footprint. Back then, it was just vibes. But now, I know it has cost me real opportunities and tainted my reputation in the industry I want to work in.

It’s crazy how the internet never forgets. You really, really understand that when you face the brunt of it. It’s like that meme says: “Fuck around and find out.” Well, I found out. And these days, I’m super careful. I don’t ever want to be in another situation where I realise people weren’t just laughing with me, but they were taking notes again.

Do you have a story of regret? Share it with us by filling out .

ALSO READ: The 20 Best Nigerian Lyricists, Ranked By Fans