
The World Is a Stage: Play It – a survival script for early-career researchers
The World Is a Stage: Play It – a survival script for early career researchers.
Shakespeare’s famous line, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players,” has echoed through the centuries as a poetic philosophy. But what if we took it literally, not as a passive metaphor, but as a strategic framework for navigating life, leadership, and legacy?
In today’s hyper-visible, hyper-connected world, we are all performers whether presenting at a conference, negotiating policy reform, or mentoring the next generation. The question is not if we are on stage, but how we choose to play. You know that feeling when you walk into your first academic conference and everyone seems to know the unwritten rules except you? Or when you’re sitting in a faculty meeting with brilliant ideas bubbling up, but somehow your voice gets lost in the noise?
I've been there. We’ve all been there.
The truth is, academia is a stage - messy, political, sometimes unfair, but it's also where transformation happens. And here's what I've learned: you don’t have to wait for someone to hand you a starring role. You can write yourself in.
Chapter 1: Stop Reading Other People's Scripts
The real talk - when I started my PhD, I thought a "good research" meant citing every Western theorist under the sun and apologising for studying "just" African contexts. Sound familiar?
Here's what changed everything: my supervisors helped me realise that constantly positioning African experiences as "case studies" of Western theories was like trying to explain jazz using only classical music terminology. It sort of works, but you miss the soul of what you're studying. I therefore changed my theories to ones that had African ideologies.
What this looks like practically:
Next time you write a literature review, ask yourself - Am I having a conversation with these authors, or just name-dropping them?. When you catch yourself writing, limited research exists on this topic in Africa, which I am also guilty of (doubt this? Check my thesis). Flip it: This research offers new insights that challenge assumptions based on experiences from the Global North. Start your research questions with what genuinely puzzles you about your context, not what funding bodies want to hear (thank goodness I wasn’t writing for any funding body).
I remember the first time I heard an early-career researcher present her own research that centred on African theoretical frameworks. A senior colleague said, "This is interesting, but what makes you think this will go anywhere or be relevant?" Fun fact: she was propounding her own theoretical framework. I honestly hope she continues developing it.
Chapter 2: Build Your Stage (Because the Current One Might Be Wobbly)
The real talk: African universities are incredible spaces of knowledge creation, but let's be honest, they're also dealing with funding cuts, brain drain, and infrastructure that sometimes barely holds together.
You can't wait for perfect conditions. You have to get creative.
Stories from the trenches:
A colleague lecturer suggested we start a supportive group for female academics in the university where I work. I therefore discussed with a senior colleague for support, and what he said is a story for discussion another day. But guess what? We are not stopping. Building a research collective group with peers across disciplines and cultures could help with funding opportunities. We could share costs, co-author papers, and create the community we need.
When I didn’t know which journals to submit my manuscripts to, my supervisor and colleagues directed me to journals. Turns out there are journals ready to take your manuscripts and colleagues willing to work with you.
The mindset shift: Instead of seeing constraints as limitations, see them as creative challenges. Some of the most innovative research I've seen has come from people who had to think outside traditional academic boxes.
Chapter 3: Know Your Audience (All of Them)
The real talk: Your supervisor matters. Journal reviewers matter. But so does your grandmother, who asks what you're actually doing with all that education, that friend who thinks you like education too much instead of chasing money, the community leader whose insights shaped your research, and the young person who might follow in your footsteps. Academic work that only speaks to other academics often stays trapped in academic circles. A story that changed my perspective: I spent the first three years of my PhD using a framework that no one in my immediate cycle understood or knew about. That particular decision saw me changing my theoretical framework a few weeks before submitting my thesis for examination. My supervisors couldn’t help me after reading through my final draft before submission because I chose a theoretical lens they were not familiar with, and no one could understand what I was saying, not even me. Again, after posting a YouTube video on tools that helped me on my PhD journey, a colleague reached out asking that I should be explaining the academic terminologies (You should watch it, it's a useful piece). Ouch. But also a breakthrough. I learned to think differently about the audience, whether it is an academic paper, a policy brief, the blog post that sparked online conversations, a YouTube video to educate or a workshop that helped other young people navigate the academic ecosystem I am studying.
The practical bit:
Before you write, ask: "Who needs to hear this, and how do they prefer to receive information?"
Develop a translation muscle, learn to move between academic language and everyday conversation. Build relationships beyond academia. Some of my most valuable research insights have come from conversations with taxi drivers, market vendors, and neighbours.
Chapter 4: Playing It (Without Losing Yourself)
The real talk: There's a difference between strategic adaptation and selling your soul. You'll face pressure to make your research "more international" (code for "more Western"), to tone down critiques of existing systems, or to present yourself as grateful for any opportunity rather than someone bringing valuable contributions. Here's what I learnt: confidence isn't arrogance. Knowing your worth isn't pride. And refusing to diminish your work to make others comfortable isn't being difficult; it's being professional.
Some navigation strategies:
- Practice discussing your research with genuine enthusiasm. If you don't believe in its importance, why should anyone else?
- Learn the difference between compromise and intransigence. Sometimes you adjust your framing; sometimes you hold your ground.
- Find your people, the colleagues, mentors, and friends who remind you of your value when imposter syndrome kicks in.
- A moment of honesty: I still struggle with this. I sometimes ask myself what makes me think I could have an opinion on what experienced academics have written or said. But now I notice when I do it, and I course-correct. Growth, not perfection.
The Encore: It's Not Just About You
Here's the thing about stages: they are communal spaces. When you step up, you are not just advancing your own career. You're changing what's possible for the next generation of African scholars. Every time you publish research that centres African experiences, you are expanding the academic imagination. Every time you challenge colonial knowledge systems, you are opening space for others to do the same. Every time you refuse to be tokenised or minimised, you're modelling a different way of being in these spaces. This has a rippling effect, which is that your undergraduate students see someone who looks like them thriving in academia, your research creates pathways for community-engaged scholarship, and your presence in academic spaces normalises African excellence and innovation.
Final Thoughts
The world is indeed a stage, but it's not a solo performance. It's more like a jazz ensemble where the magic happens in the improvisation, the call-and-response, the way individual voices blend to create something entirely new. So yes, play it. But play it your way. Play it with purpose. And remember, the best performances don't just entertain the audience; they change how everyone sees the world.