As it happens, there is no course that teaches you how to be an influencer. Or content creator, for that matter. Look around you, those people doing incredible things on the internet learnt on the job. I have told my own story so many times, it now sounds like a broken record. But for the benefit of those who do not know, I was trained to be a lawyer. The dream was to be one of those people you see on the telly spewing big Latin phrases like res ipsa loquitor instead of merely saying the thing speaks for itself. Life happened. At first, I started by writing a blog, then I trained my sights on other social media sites; Twitter and Instagram.
It is a tough job. The creative process is one that demands from you daily. It is cerebral. And sometimes – for travel creatives like myself – it is physical. You have to scour the internet for inspiration, sit down and think of ways in which you can make your stuff stand out, and then go out and actually implement it. The toll on the body is far reaching. But most importantly, and people often forget this, it is expensive.
Photography gear will break your bank. Hiring a videographer will dent your economy. Paying for locations, getting outfits, grooming, paying for digital assets…all those things cost money. But cost of production is nothing new to business, right. Every job bears costs. Yet try telling that to clients and you will see their eyes droop and skins turn black and blue like the surprise actually slapped them across the face.
About eight years ago, people still did not know what it meant to be a content creator in this country. We looked up to the Western countries and saw our peers earn a decent living from their blogs, YouTube Channels, social media handles etc. We kept wondering ‘God when?’ When will it ever happen for us?
At the time, even getting invites to media briefings was a struggle. The only media that was respected was the mainstream media. The big players. Our work was not quite considered work. It always came across as a parttime thing that you are doing in your 20s before you get to your 30s and get a real job. So why give you the respect that should be accorded to serious journalists? And the difference between us and proper media people was evident in those events. For us, we were just happy to there – to witness the event, yeah, but also for the free drinks and food.
The serious media people were unmistakable in their suits, notebook, pens, always raising their hands to ask the serious questions (that you could find answers for on Google). “Hi, my name is Kimani Mbugua, and I am with Business Daily,” they’d say, and it always struck me as odd. You know, like, what did they mean when they said they are with Business Daily – as if they are dating.
Anyway, clearly the respect was lacking. Looking back now I am not sure we demanded it either.
But the societal lens in which we were seen did not do us any favours. Back then, if you said you are a blogger, first thing that came to people’s minds is that you either exist to give the government a hard time, or you scout for gossip for some online rag. Never mind that mainstream media did both of those things. Never mind that BAKE (Bloggers Association of Kenya) was bending itself backwards trying to educate the public about the variety of bloggers who exist in Kenya.
It was a tough break.
And as you can imagine, earning a living in that environment was almost suicidal for the larger part of the community. Clients wanted the most for the least. Agencies were not interested in protecting us; rather they were only concerned about protecting their accounts. To view us as brand partners was not even heard of. And you know what, it is not as if these things have changed completely. Payments still delay, contracts are still shitty, but you know what, we have demanded a bigger share of the marketing and communications pie in this industry. While sometimes it may feel like we are mark timing, the truth is we make three steps forward and one step back.
I just mentioned contracts, and in the beginning of this article I said that I did not study content creation, that I am a lawyer by training. Sometimes it comes in handy. Here is an example. Earlier in the year a client approached me for work. It is always standard. The agency will send a contract and then tell you they need it back ASAP. Ideally influencers seldom read contracts in full; just the deliverables and the amount due and that is all. This time, I decided to read.
In essence, the client (through the agency) was asking me to sign away rights to use my work, my copyright, my name, trademark and likeness (and get this, coz it is the funniest part) in perpetuity throughout the globe. I refused to sign it, sent it back and negotiated for my rights. So I started the job late, while others had already kicked off their work on the campaign. I kept wondering, did these other people not know what they were signing, or did we get different contracts, or they just do not care? I was working alongside a TV personality – a popular one with an agent and everything – and I was shocked that they didn’t seem to have raised a brow.
The audacity in that contract spoke for itself.
But I guess of all those things that plague influencers, the deadliest one is not bad contracts, poor pay or lack of respect. It is ignorance. It is the lack of understanding that you can negotiate for more than just payments. It is the not knowing that to be called an influencer means that you have value. Value that you should never sign away to a company. It is the ignorance in not knowing the value of what you are signing away.
And it is the ignorance (the kind that borders naivety) in thinking that a client is your friend. No client is your friend. They will drop you at will. They will not stand by you when you fuck up, or fall ill. Anyone who pays you cannot be a friend. They are business people, and you are replaceable.
I was told to write an article about the difficulties that influencers and content creators face in this line of work. I hope somewhere in between the skepticism, I have done that. But do not get it twisted. The fact that we are still here, still alive, still breathing, means that it is not that grim. Many times, the sun shines through.