After securing a second term in Osun, Ademola Adeleke’s signature dance offers a revealing lesson in personality, culture and modern political communication
I watched Ademola Adeleke’s interview with Seun Okinbaloye on Channels TV on Sunday, where he reflected on his victory at the Osun State gubernatorial election which held on Saturday August 15.
Also read: Adeleke gets emotional after Davido’s Osun victory call
In what turned out to be a two-horse race, Adeleke, the state governor, polled a total of 511,067 votes to defeat his closest rival, Bola Oyebamiji of the All Progressives Congress (APC), who polled 444,815 votes to secure a second term of four years in office.
Osun State became a “theatre of war” amid rising political tensions in what Azu Ishiekwene, Editor-in-Chief of Leadership newspaper, described as the outcome of a “perfect grudge match” between Adeleke and Adegboyega Oyetola, Minister of Marine and Blue Economy and former one-term governor of Osun State, in his column last week.
The election followed a tense campaign environment in which violence claimed lives and turned parts of Osun into a political battlefield. After Oyetola and his supporters successfully blocked Adeleke from joining APC from the People’s Democratic Party (PDP), the Osun State governor settled for Accord Party which was the platform he used to contest and achieved victory.
At the end of the interview with Okinbaloye, Adeleke, obviously still in a joyful victory mood, was full of smiles and entertained viewers with his famous energetic dance steps.
Adeleke dances all the time and appears to be enjoying himself as he dances, but what is wrong with dancing, especially when it is beautifully choreographed?
Politics is often described as the art of persuasion, but persuasion is not always achieved through speeches, manifestos and political slogans. Sometimes, it is expressed through dance, music, rhythm and emotion.
In Nigeria, where culture and politics are deeply intertwined, dance has become much more than entertainment – it is also a language of identity, celebration, solidarity and connection.
The recent Osun State gubernatorial election offered a striking illustration of this reality. For Adeleke, however, the outcome, besides the drumbeat and his dance steps, represents what he described as a “victory for democracy.”
Coming at the end of the cycle of off-season governorship elections before the 2027 general elections, the Osun contest attracted considerable national attention.
But beyond the politics, there is another dimension to Adeleke’s public persona that deserves attention: his dance. Adeleke dances frequently, enthusiastically and unapologetically.
What might initially appear to be mere entertainment has evolved into a powerful personal branding instrument.
His dance has become part of his political identity, helping him communicate warmth, confidence, joy and accessibility in ways that conventional political rhetoric often cannot.
In branding, people do not always remember what they are told, but they remember how a person makes them feel. Adeleke appears to understand this branding strategy instinctively.
His dancing has created an emotional connection between the governor and many of his supporters.
At political rallies and public celebrations, his movements generate excitement, laughter and participation.
He does not maintain the formal distance traditionally associated with political office; he often presents himself as one of the people.
That is powerful political communication for those who do not know.
African societies have always understood the importance of rhythm and movement. Long before modern political campaigns, communities used drums, songs and dances to celebrate victories, welcome visitors, honour leaders, mark festivals and communicate collective emotions.
Across Nigeria, traditional festivals are rarely complete without colourful costumes, music and dance.
From Yoruba festivals to Igbo cultural celebrations, Hausa-Fulani traditional ceremonies and numerous indigenous festivals across the Niger Delta and Middle Belt, dance is an important expression of communal identity.
The drum provides the rhythm; the dancer provides the movement, and the audience supplies the energy. Together, they create participation in a convivial atmosphere.
This is why dance works so effectively as a communication medium. It is visual, emotional and memorable. It transcends literacy and, to some extent, language.
A person may not remember the details of a political speech, but they are likely to remember a politician, like Adeleke, dancing before a cheering crowd.
Adeleke’s political brand has benefited from this phenomenon. His dance has become almost inseparable from his public image.
In a political environment where many politicians appear carefully scripted, his spontaneity creates differentiation.
Branding is fundamentally about differentiation: what makes one person, product, organisation or destination different from another? For Adeleke, dance has become one of those distinctive attributes.
There is also a family dimension to the Adeleke brand.
His nephew, David Adeleke, popularly known as Davido, is one of Africa’s biggest music superstars. Davido’s enormous popularity, particularly among young Nigerians, gives the Adeleke family an unusual cultural connection with Nigeria’s entertainment industry.
His star power has also helped strengthen the family’s visibility and connection with people in Osun.
The intersection of politics, music and popular culture is therefore particularly significant in Osun. It demonstrates how political communication is changing in the digital age.
Young people consume information differently. They are attracted to authenticity, personality, visual storytelling and moments that can be shared instantly on social media.
A dancing governor can become a viral phenomenon within minutes. Whereas political speech may take several minutes to deliver, a compelling visual moment can travel across TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, X and YouTube almost instantly.
This is not to suggest that dance can substitute for governance. Ultimately, citizens judge elected officials by performance: infrastructure, education, healthcare, jobs, security, economic opportunities and the quality of public services.
A governor cannot dance away unemployment, bad roads or insecurity.
Branding is not governance, but Adeleke has used it successfully as a communication layer through which leadership becomes more relatable and memorable.
His success therefore offers an interesting lesson in Nigerian political communication: personality, cultural intelligence, and emotional connection are important.
The lesson extends beyond politics and Adeleke. Nigeria possesses enormous cultural assets that remain underutilised as tools of communication, tourism, diplomacy and economic development.
Our dances, music, festivals, fashion, food and storytelling traditions can become powerful components of Nigeria’s soft power.
Afrobeats has already demonstrated this possibility.
Nigerian music has travelled around the world, taking aspects of Nigerian culture with it.
Nigerian fashion designers, filmmakers, comedians and creative entrepreneurs are similarly extending the country’s cultural influence.
Dance belongs in this conversation. From the energetic movements associated with contemporary Nigerian music to the rich traditional dances performed during cultural festivals, dance tells stories about who we are. It communicates happiness, resilience, celebration and community.
There is also a lesson here for corporate and public-sector branding. Brands increasingly seek emotional connections with their audiences.
Instead of merely telling consumers what they sell, successful brands create experiences that people can see, feel and remember. Dance can be part of that experience.
Nigeria’s festivals can be packaged more deliberately as international cultural attractions.
State governments should invest in dance festivals and cultural performances as tourism assets.
Nigerian embassies can also deploy dance and music more strategically in cultural diplomacy.
Schools could preserve indigenous dances as part of cultural education, and the creative industry could commercialise traditional dance without stripping it of its cultural meaning.
Osun is particularly well positioned for this cultural renaissance.
The state is home to the globally recognised Osun-Osogbo Festival, a major expression of Yoruba spirituality, art and cultural heritage.
Its cultural assets provide an opportunity to position Osun not merely as a political entity but as a destination for culture, spirituality, creativity and tourism.
In that context, Adeleke’s dancing fits naturally into a broader cultural narrative.
His political brand has shown that when a leader embraces an authentic cultural expression, it can become a powerful communication tool.
He has made dance part of his identity, and his supporters have embraced it as part of the Adeleke experience.
The deeper lesson is that leadership does not always have to communicate from a podium; sometimes, it can communicate from the dance floor.
Adeleke’s victory may ultimately be judged by the quality of his second-term performance in office.
But his political journey has already demonstrated an important truth about modern branding: people connect with people before they connect with policies.
And in Nigeria, where the drumbeat has always been a call to community, dance remains one of the most powerful ways to say: I am one of you.
Also read: Adeleke drops EFCC suit after Tinubu intervention
That is the enduring power of dance.
