Have you ever been in a room with someone who just radiates? It’s a fascinating thing to witness true charisma in action. These people function like human magnets, effortlessly drawing everyone into their orbit. It’s not about their appearance as they may not be the most conventionally attractive people nor is it about the drawing of attention to themselves by being loud or flashy: It’s an almost intangible pull, this sense that they’ve got something you want, something you need. the ability to captivate and hold attention by just simply being, they make you feel seen and understood every time they talk to you. It almost feels magical in a way, it’s no wonder we also refer to charisma as “charm”. And no, it’s not about having the “gift of gab” or reciting TED Talks in casual conversation. True charisma is deeper than that. It’s the ability to make you feel interesting even when they’re the ones talking. It’s the subtle art of being present, not performative.These are the folks who can hold eye contact without turning it into a psychological showdown. No squinting, no smirking, no “I’m trying to read your soul” intensity, just honest, grounded presence.
In a culture often characterized by elaborate displays and social posturing, these people I believe really stand out for their authenticity. They don’t seem to be engaged in the performance of power; they simply embody it. They are real, in a way that resonates deeply in a society where trust can be hard won because let’s face it, the average Nigerian has a PhD in performance. Our society has taught us to perform respect, perform success, perform happiness, and sometimes even perform spirituality. You’ve probably said “it is well” more times this week than you’ve said your own name. Those unshaken by the need for external validation, project a quiet confidence and a highly rare level of comfort in their own skin. And in a society where many are still figuring out what to believe, what to do, or even who to be, this display of self assuredness is magnetic.
The natural question is this: Is charisma something you’re born with, a magical “it factor” that some people just seem to have? Or is it something you can learn, like any other skill? The truth is, it’s a bit of both, and the mix is fascinating. Some folks definitely seem to come out of the gate with a natural charm, an easy confidence. Even as babies, they were probably cooing in a poetic cadence and persuading aunties to hand over extra meat at parties. However, for the rest of us, whose main childhood talent was hiding during family functions, there’s hope. Charisma isn’t magic. It’s a skill. And like any skill, it can be cultivated.
The word “charisma” comes from the Greek kharis, meaning “divine gift”, “grace” or “favor.” Thinkers like Max Weber viewed charisma as a kind of supernatural authority, a force that lets individuals inspire devotion and command loyalty without relying on formal rules. However, modern psychology has demystified charisma. Studies now show that it’s not purely inborn; it can be cultivated. Like a muscle, charisma grows stronger with intentional use. And one of its strongest exercises? Radical self-acceptance.
The Power of Presence in a Country Built on Performance
In Nigeria, charisma isn’t just admired, it’s often essential. When institutions wobble, when systems are opaque and unreliable, people lean not on structure, but on personalities. We follow people, not policies. We trust a man’s voice more than his CV. A pastor’s fire more than his theology. A politician’s gra-gra more than his manifesto. In the marketplace of influence, charisma is legal tender.
However, it also creates a tension between performance and substance, between style and depth. We’ve built an entire culture around “packaging,” where appearances sometimes matter more than ability. And while that makes charisma a useful tool for mobility, it also turns it into a mask. A way to glide through gatekeeping mechanisms that should require more than a good smile and crisp English.
Still, we can’t afford to write charisma off as solely superficial. In a society where opportunity is unequal and trust is fragile, true presence matters. It is reassuring. It anchors. The charismatic leader, when genuine, can unify fractured communities. The charismatic teacher can ignite a love for learning in overcrowded classrooms. The charismatic youth advocate can hold attention long enough to move apathy into action. In a landscape this uncertain, charisma becomes less of an indulgence and more of a necessary force for progress.
The kind of charisma we desperately need is not the glossy, hyper-curated kind that lives on Instagram reels and panel discussions. It’s the grounded kind. The kind that begins with self-awareness and deep empathy. The kind that refuses to perform perfection and instead shows up with integrity and inspires others to do the same.
Self-Acceptance as a Sociopolitical Force
At the heart of real charisma is one thing: self-acceptance. Not the social media kind that says, “Love yourself!” before throwing you into a vat of comparison, but the slow, quiet kind that says, Even if no one claps today, I’m still enough.
In a country like Nigeria, where identity is constantly under pressure: by tribe, class, religion, gender, to accept oneself fully is a kind of protest. To say, “This is who I am” in a space that constantly tries to define you, box you in, or dress you up, is bold, it’s also charismatic. Why? Nothing draws people in like someone who is deeply rooted in their own story, yet very importantly, open enough to hold space for others.
We need leaders, creatives, professionals, and everyday people who are not just striving to be liked, but committed to being real. Because once you’ve accepted yourself, you stop competing with everyone else’s image. You start leading from your center. And in a society riddled with performance pressure, that kind of self-possession is magnetic.
So no, you don’t need to be the loudest voice in the room. You don’t need a British accent or a wardrobe curated by Pinterest. What you need is clarity. Conviction. The courage to say, This is who I am, and to mean it. Because once you embody that, genuinely and not performatively, you don’t just attract followers. You inspire leaders.
And in Nigeria, where the next wave of transformation won’t come from perfection but from self actualization, we need fewer performers and more people who are deeply, unapologetically themselves.
Eyesan Toritseju is a graduate of Civil Engineering from Covenant University turned serial entrepreneur and corporate strategist. Passionate about society and the cultural ideologies that shape us, he explores how these forces propel or inhibit progress through his writing. In his column, Cosmopolitan Nigeria, Eyesan examines how young Nigerians navigate the complexities of culture, religion, and identity in a rapidly evolving world.
