She Dreamed of Dancing, But Life Had Other Plans—How to Rebound When Dreams Take a Detour

EffUps Happen… Sometimes, life’s most vibrant dreams collide with the unyielding walls of tradition. Meet Kelly, whose love for dance was nearly buried beneath generational expectations and cultural norms.

Born in Calabar, many miles from the People’s Paradise, Kelly’s childhood dream was to tour the world as a dancer. She was on course until life happened. Better put, she was on course until the fantasy dogma of the older generation Nigerian parents caught up with her. You know all about it – you want to be a vlogger, but your boomer parents envision you in a starched blue shirt, red tie and black pants; strutting your way from Alagomeji to the bank HQ on Adeola Odeku on a busy Monday morning.

In this excerpt from our conversation, Kelly shares her struggle with the weight of her family’s expectations clashing with her desire for artistic freedom.

Growing up in a home where her parents took pride in being the enforcers of age-old customs and patriarchal beliefs, she lived in the shadows of her brothers. Yet, in the middle of it all, the one thing that gave her joy and a sense of freedom was dance.

Kelly was a fan of the popular reality show, Dance Moms, which featured young dancers and their passionate mothers battling it out with other duets in an intense dance arena. Think of it as Big Brother Naija, except here, folks dance. Unfortunately, the show was discontinued because of the racist comments directed to participants on the show by Abby Lee Miller – a figure that could be likened to the Big Brother of the show. 

“Dance Mum was one of my inspirations back in the day. I’d hop from one Facebook page to another, trying to catch up with the show”, Kelly tells me. She says she imagined herself on the show someday, but it felt like an impossible dream. It was like looking for a needle in the ocean. Until one day, after several months of dancing to herself in her mirror, she got a lifetime opportunity to participate in a dance audition in the US. 

“My friend, Deborah, who was also a dancer, had an aunty in the US who was a dance tutor. Deborah’s sister once recorded us dancing on her phone and sent the video to her aunt. She did not tell me she would send it; the dance sef na freestyle. After several months, she finally watched it and decided to pay for our audition ticket at a dance competition in Arizona. Omoo, that was supposed to be my gerrout-of-naija card.” 

The way Kelly sounded, she felt she was ready for it. All the hours she had poured into practising her steps would finally be rewarded, she thought. Kelly rushed home to tell her mum that she would be going to America to dance. 

“My mother thought I was mad or something was wrong with me. It made no sense to her. She told me that no child of hers would ever become a dancer.”

“I was broken. From harbouring dreams of dancing with my mom on TV to knowing my love for dancing would never be supported from home. I picked up what was left of my shattered dreams and waited for my Dad to return from work. I tried to talk to him about it, but those days, he was always angry, shouting at everybody. Only my eldest brother could confront him; they usually had nasty arguments. So, I killed the thought and decided to move on with life. I was just 12, but I knew what a broken heart felt like. The crazy thing is that Deborah came third in the competition and went on to win a scholarship. She’s currently abroad at the moment. Omoo, life is tough o”

Today, Kelly is a nursing student at the University of Calabar, studying Nursing and playing an active role in AIESEC in Nigeria. While she dances occasionally, her steps, she says, have lost their shine and she wonders how differently life could have turned out by a stroke of luck. Yet, through it all, she’s found new meaning in a different dream, one that may not be the stage, but where she’s discovering a different way to make an impact.

Sometimes, the dreams we put on hold can teach us just as much as the ones we chase. Kelly’s story is a reminder that passions, though buried, never truly die—they evolve, shape us, and, sometimes, find new forms. Whether for herself or her future children, Kelly carries forward the lesson that dreams are meant to be pursued, not paused for anyone’s expectations. And perhaps, for parents, it’s a gentle nudge to remember that each child’s path is unique—and supporting it might be the greatest legacy of all, regardless of how unorthodox their passion might seem.