Why Burna Boy Deserves More Understanding Than Outrage

Burner Boy Furious with a Sleeping Fan

The noise surrounding Burna Boy’s recent concert incident has been loud and predictable. A fan was reportedly “sleeping” in the front row, Burna Boy asked that he be escorted out, and suddenly the artist became the villain of the entire story. But as I watched the reactions pour in, I couldn’t help noticing a pattern that repeats itself every time a major star is involved in  controversy: we judge the mighty by standards we would never apply to ordinary people.

Let’s start with the basics. A front-row concert seat is not a quiet place. It is the beating heart of the event, where massive speakers, flashing lights, and raw energy collide. Anyone who claims to be “sleeping” there raises immediate questions. Was it genuine exhaustion? A deliberate display of disrespect? Or an attention-seeking stunt?

We may never know. But I know this: if I were performing—talking, singing, or presenting—and the person directly in front of me pretended to sleep, I would feel insulted. It is human nature. It drains your morale. It disrupts your flow. And it communicates a message, whether intended or not.

So I understand why Burna Boy acted. He responded as a human being, not as a robot programmed to ignore provocation.

Yet once again, the reaction—not the provocation—dominated the conversation.

This is the burden of fame. When Burna Boy sought police help after being slandered by another entertainer who insinuated that Diddy’s troubles implicated him, he was condemned. The person spreading the unfounded accusation practically walked free in the court of public opinion.

The message is clear: if you are famous, you must swallow insults quietly. You must absorb disrespect gracefully. Any attempt to defend your dignity becomes evidence of arrogance.

This double standard is not unique to Nigeria. The world saw it play out at the 2022 Oscars when Will Smith reacted emotionally to a joke about Jada Pinkett Smith. Chris Rock’s comment—hurtful and insensitive—was quickly overshadowed by Smith’s slap. Rather than acknowledge that even celebrities can be pushed too far, society demanded that Smith should have been above all human emotion because he was a “big name.”

It is the same flawed logic applied to Burna Boy.

The truth is simple: Celebrities remain human, no matter how large their stages or how loud their applause. They get offended. They react. They protect themselves. And sometimes, they make imperfect choices—just like the rest of us.

But unlike the rest of us, every gesture they make is magnified through a global microscope.

If Burna Boy were an unknown artist, the “sleeping fan” incident would never have made headlines. But because he is a global force, everything he does attracts moral judgment, often without context.

I am not arguing that stars should never be criticized. I am arguing that criticism should be honest—and fair.

Before attacking Burna Boy, we should ask more balanced questions:
Why was the fan “asleep” in the loudest part of the hall?
Why must famous people endure deliberate disrespect silently?
And why do we gloss over provocations simply because the target happens to be a superstar?

Until we answer these questions, we will continue punishing celebrities not for wrongdoing but for being human in a world that refuses to see their humanity.