“No Mind the Haters”: Kiddwaya Defends Cubana Chief Priest After Tinubu Kneeling Controversy Sparks Social Media Storm

In the ever-vibrant world of Nigerian celebrity culture, a fresh wave of controversy surged over the weekend as nightlife entrepreneur and socialite Cubana Chief Priest found himself at the center of a heated online backlash. The uproar stemmed from a video showing him kneeling before President Bola Ahmed Tinubu at a recent high-profile event — a gesture that sparked widespread reactions, with critics accusing him of sycophancy and undermining his personal brand.

However, amidst the mounting criticism, popular reality TV star and billionaire heir Terseer Waya, better known as Kiddwaya, has come out strongly in support of his longtime associate, urging him to "no mind the haters." In a statement posted on his social media platforms, Kiddwaya not only defended Cubana Chief Priest’s action but also highlighted the significance of meeting the president, reminding Nigerians of the weight and rarity of such an encounter.

“To meet president you think na easy!” Kiddwaya wrote, tagging Cubana Chief Priest with a hearty message: “bcubana_chiefpriest no mind the haters. More wins my brother bs.”

The exchange quickly made waves online, with fans, detractors, and neutral observers dissecting the meaning behind Kiddwaya’s words and the larger implications of the event. For many, the kneeling gesture was seen as culturally respectful — a traditional Yoruba custom where greeting elders and leaders with humility is commonplace. Yet for others, it was viewed as performative and unnecessary, especially from a figure who has often portrayed himself as a self-made and unapologetic businessman.

Cubana Chief Priest, known for his flamboyant lifestyle, big-money endorsements, and deep-rooted ties to Nigeria’s entertainment and nightlife industry, has not directly addressed the controversy — at least not in a conventional statement. But his repost of Kiddwaya’s supportive message and accompanying emojis suggest a deliberate choice to let his loyal circle speak for him.

This incident once again highlights the deeply polarized nature of Nigerian social media, where almost every public action, particularly by celebrities, is scrutinized through multiple lenses. While some applauded the Chief Priest for showing respect to the office of the President, others viewed the act as symbolic of Nigeria’s culture of political patronage — where access and proximity to power is often fetishized, and sometimes, weaponized.

The bigger conversation, however, might not be about one man’s gesture, but what it reveals about the intricate dance between celebrity, politics, and public perception in Nigeria. In recent years, more Nigerian entertainers and entrepreneurs have found themselves brushing shoulders with political power. With an election cycle barely behind the country, such associations are bound to be met with heightened sensitivity and, in many cases, outright skepticism.

Kiddwaya, who himself is no stranger to the nexus between politics and privilege — being the son of billionaire businessman Terry Waya — has always maintained a confident, sometimes defiant posture in the public eye. His defense of Cubana Chief Priest reads not just as a show of friendship, but a statement about what success, access, and influence look like in today’s Nigeria.

The phrase “To meet president you think na easy!” quickly began trending as a meme and talking point, as Nigerians dissected its implications. For some, it was a stark reminder of the exclusivity that surrounds access to political leaders. For others, it sparked satire and sarcasm, with memes flooding platforms like X (formerly Twitter) and Instagram, mocking what they described as the "hustler’s desperation for political relevance."

Yet, beneath the memes and banter, lies a more serious commentary. In a country where millions grapple with inflation, fuel scarcity, and governance-related frustrations, public figures showing admiration — or even reverence — for political leaders can be a lightning rod for criticism. The public’s anger often spills over onto those seen as cozying up to the establishment, regardless of their intentions.

Supporters of the Chief Priest argue that such backlash is unfair. “He’s a businessman, and part of his job is networking at the highest levels,” one fan wrote. “If meeting the president helps his brand, why should he pretend like it’s not a big deal?” Another chimed in, “This is Nigeria. Everyone wants access. He just got it. Let him breathe.”

Meanwhile, others were less forgiving. “It’s the way these so-called influencers sell out so quickly,” one critic posted. “All it takes is a handshake and photo-op, and suddenly they forget the people they once claimed to represent.”

Despite the divided opinions, the event has again highlighted just how central social media has become in shaping public narratives. What might have once been a fleeting moment at a closed-door event is now a viral episode with real-world implications for reputation and brand perception.

Still, Kiddwaya’s show of solidarity underscores the importance of loyalty among Nigeria’s elite influencers. In an era where public opinion can flip overnight and cancel culture looms large, having a strong support network can be the difference between a scandal that spirals out of control and one that fizzles out with time.

For Cubana Chief Priest, the support of someone like Kiddwaya — who commands a massive following and is generally viewed with intrigue due to his reality TV fame and elite background — might be just the buffer he needs to weather the current storm.

As the news cycle inevitably moves on, it remains to be seen whether this moment will linger in the public’s memory or simply become another footnote in the ever-unfolding story of Nigeria’s celebrity-political drama. But one thing is certain: in today’s social media age, every move is amplified, every gesture interpreted, and every silence scrutinized.

And for Kiddwaya and Cubana Chief Priest, their latest brush with the public spotlight proves once again that in Nigeria, fame, politics, and perception are inseparably intertwined — and sometimes, a single kneel can ignite a national conversation.