Let the Screen Do the Talking

A Letter to my Younger Self on not saying much

Dear Temi,

In the year 2020, some news will hit you.

Some will make you fear. Others will make you happy.

Then some will make you sad.

One of them will be that Chadwick Boseman has passed away.

And I know why it will pain you.

Because we are comic character fans and, beyond that, we admire this man. This man who took a role we first saw on screen in the Fantastic Four cartoon on Silverbird TV.

This man who played it so well and turned the character into a pop culture icon.

You respect him for that, so the news of his death will shock you, and so will the circumstances surrounding it.

You will later learn that he kept his diagnosis private the whole time he was filming, showing up and still giving his best work inspite of the pain.

Part of you will wish he didn't do this, because maybe he could have been better but you will get over it and come to respect him more when you understand why. Hold onto that.

You will also worry about the character he played. You know how hard it is to replace an actor who turned a role into an icon.

Good news is, they found a way.

Two actors, actually, and neither of them plays T'Challa. I won't spoil how, but you will like the progression.

You will even come to like the new Black Panther, David Jonnson, because you will see him in a film that means something to you first.

You know that habit we have of keeping certain films as gems we can rewatch endlessly?

You will do that with a film you watch in 2023. It is called Rye Lane.

You will love the dynamic between the two leads, Jonnson being one of them and you will come to like his other works because he is a good actor.

BTW, you will love the use of colours in this film. Don't want to spoil why but it has something to do with a future profession 😅

Then you will find out he plays Black Panther at ComicCon.

At his unveiling, he said something that stayed with me, and I know it will stay with you too.

"Thank you to this amazing family that I have the honor and the privilege and the blessing to join. I actually don't want to say too much because I want to let the screen do the talking. But believe me, the honor is entirely mine. Thank you."

I want to let the screen do the talking.

That's the part I keep circling back to, and why I am writing this letter to you.

I understand, Dear Temi, that you might think from the heading, that this letter is about staying silent. But it is not. Or should I say not mainly about that.

It's about knowing who you're speaking to.

I know we have a habit of announcing our plans to everyone. Every acquaintance, every group chat, every person who asks what we're working on.

We think saying it out loud makes it more real, makes us more accountable.

But telling everyone flattens the goal.

I know, because I have lived it.

Telling everyone about our goal makes it become a performance before it become a result.

You get the small hit of feeling like you've already done something, just from saying it. And then you carry the weight of everyone's expectations, which are never the same as your own, and trying to meet all of them at once is a fight you cannot win.

So don't announce your goals to everyone. That's the first thing.

The second thing is who you do tell matters more than whether you tell anyone at all.

In 2024, I told a large group of people, I was going to write every week for the year.

And I did it.

Fifty two articles by the end. That part was great.

What wasnt great was showing up felt like torture because I treated it like a cage instead of a companion. I showed up because I said I would, not because I still wanted to, and by the later months I resented the very thing I used to love.

I was proud of the number 56. I wasn't proud of all the writing.

If I'd chosen that circle more carefully, people who could tell me to rest without guilt, or push me without pressure, the year would have felt different.

So I hope you understand that you can people about your goals. That isn't the problem. Broadcasting it to people who only ever see the outcome, never the process, is.

And this is where David Jonsson and Chadwick Boseman split into two different lessons for me, so let me make them more clearer man.

Jonsson chose silence in front of an audience that already had expectations of him. He is going to let the work answer for itself. That's a lesson in restraint, in not needing to narrate your own arrival. Let the work do the talking.

Boseman did something harder. He wasn't managing an audience. He was living with something almost no one around him knew about, and he still gave everything to the work in front of him.

Anyone has got to respect that because you carrying weight quietly because some things are not for everyone, and still choosing to show up fully anyway.

You won't face what he faced. At least up unto this period (and hopefully never).

But you will face smaller versions of it.

Days you would be asked about your goals. Seasons where explaining yourself costs more than it gives back.

Let some of it stay yours. Not because you're hiding, but because not everything needs an audience to be true. I can assure of you this.

So as I conclude this letter, I like for you to remember: Don't announce your goals to everyone.

And for the few you do tell, choose them like it matters, because it does.

Let your pen do the talking. If you ever have to talk, don't say too much.

I know it won't be easy.

You will feel you want to die, but Yakubu manage.

(And yes, this is a joke you will come to understand in 2026😂)

But you will be fine.

Remember, you've got this.

Till next time,

Salud.