Idris works in academia as a lecturer, with ambitions to become a professor. He has no interest in entertainment, but his resemblance to musician Davido has been a source of surprise for many fans and for him.
In 2018, a picture he posted to celebrate his birthday went viral. He hadn’t expected to be called a “low-budget Davido,” but that was one of the comments from bemused fans of the superstar.
In an interview with Zikoko, he opened up about the first time he was called a Davido lookalike, how it has affected him, and why he sometimes feels the need to live up to the OBO lifestyle.
As Told To Dennis
When I walked into Mami Market during NYSC in 2018, I had no expectations. I had been standing for what felt like hours and was exhausted from the marshals screaming. Everything just seemed too much, and I needed to catch my breath. Then a female corper I had never met said it: “You look like Davido.”
The first time someone told me I looked like Davido was back in secondary school. He had just dropped “Dami Duro,” the hit that catapulted him to fame, and I had mastered his signature dance from the music video. I went to St. Gregory’s College in Obalende, where we had an annual event in December called Funfair. The boys liked it because there was a disco hall where students from our sister school, Holy Child, came to party. Boys meet girls and…you get the picture.
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“You look like Davido,” someone said. I can’t even remember their name. But that was the beginning of a new phase in my life as a celebrity lookalike.
Since then, countless people have randomly accosted me, shocked by what they claim is my resemblance to the superstar. I never really saw it myself. Sure, we might have a similar skin tone, maybe even the same height, but that was where the resemblance ended — at least in my eyes.
Then, I went viral on X (then Twitter) during my final year of university, where I studied Accounting. It was my birthday, and I had posted a picture that my cousin had taken of me at home. Some days later, a friend frantically called me. I assumed it was to wish me a happy birthday, but instead, he said, “Bro, you’re trending online.” It turns out that the influencer Pamilerin had made a tweet about my picture. I searched for it recently, but he must have deleted it. Still, that moment remains one of the wildest experiences of my life. People had a lot to say. “Low-budget Davido” was not on my bingo card that year.
So when a fellow corper stopped me during NYSC and said I looked like Davido, I wasn’t surprised. At camp, people called me Davido. It was my nickname. Some even took it further and called me OBO.
At Mami Market, I had to live up to expectations — even though I didn’t have OBO money. When the ladies stopped by and hailed me as Davido, I felt obliged to prove myself. I bought them drinks. Sometimes, I paid for their food.
The billing has always been part of looking like a celebrity. People expect me to spend like him, but brah, I currently work in academia. Still, it has given Lagos street boys the perfect excuse to ask me for money. “Davido!” one random guy shouted at me a few months ago. I smiled because I understood the joke. But my guard was down, and he seized the opportunity to ask for money. If there’s any downside to looking like him, that is it.
I’ve never felt on top of the world for looking like a famous person, but it does bring some notoriety. At camp, it was easier to make friends and talk to girls because they would introduce me as “the guy that looks like Davido.” In the hostel, the other boys would stop by my corner, just hailing me. Some people have said they would feel a type of way about it, but that’s not me. I’ve embraced it, knowing it’s just a joke.
If there’s truly any resemblance between Davido and me, it’s nowhere near the Rema lookalike that made the news or the Tems lookalike who constantly fends people off on TikTok.
Mine is subtle — never enough that I could sneak into a club as Davido, but enough that I’ve gotten preferential treatment from a fan. When I worked in tech, my manager — a much older woman — couldn’t remember his name but always referred to me as the lookalike of “that musician.” That meant she was more aware of my work, which in turn meant she saw my contributions at the office, and that is all you want when starting out in tech. That’s as far as looking like Davido has taken me.
It’s never been something I think too much about or worry over. I just focus on my life and laugh when people make jokes about it. I don’t have OBO money, after all. But if I did have his money, I’d travel the world and visit some of the best libraries. I’m currently doing my PhD and have no interest in entertainment. I want to be a professor in five years. So Davido has no reason to look over his shoulder — I have no plans to replace him.
