BRYMO'S TAKE

In a world where politeness often masquerades as virtue, Nigerian author and public intellectual Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie delivers a strikingly honest message: “Please do not be nice. Be kind… because kindness is a measure of our humanity. But do not be nice. Nice means wanting always to be liked.”

These words were part of her powerful 2022 commencement address to the graduating class of Yale Law School, one of the most prestigious legal institutions in the world. What she offered that day wasn’t just a typical feel-good farewell speech, but rather a deeply introspective, and at times uncomfortable, call for courage, justice, and moral integrity.

Born in Enugu, Nigeria, in 1977, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is a celebrated writer, feminist, and global thought leader. Her works have received international acclaim, including Half of a Yellow Sun, Purple Hibiscus, Americanah, and the widely adapted TED Talk-turned-book We Should All Be Feminists. She studied communication and political science at Eastern Connecticut State University and later earned degrees from Johns Hopkins and Yale, where she received a Master of Arts in African Studies. She has delivered numerous keynote speeches around the world, but her 2022 address at Yale Law School stood out for its piercing clarity on societal expectations, gender dynamics, and the true meaning of moral courage.

In her address, she said: “Please do not be nice. Be kind… because kindness is a measure of our humanity. But do not be nice. Nice means wanting always to be liked. And this is a particular affliction of female socialization. Nice means silencing inconvenient truths. Nice means choosing always to be comfortable. Nice means letting go of courage. Nice means talking about peace. But not about justice. There is no such thing as a perfect human being. The longing for perfection will hold you back. It doesn’t help any cause to start with perfection as the yardstick. We do not need to be perfect before we are able to do what is right. I wish you everything you wish for yourself that causes no harm to others.”

Adichie draws a deliberate and necessary distinction between being kind and being nice. Kindness is rooted in humanity—it is grounded in empathy, honesty, and a willingness to do good, even when it’s inconvenient. Niceness, on the other hand, is performance. It’s about pleasing others, avoiding conflict, maintaining peace, and securing approval. A kind person will tell you the truth you need to hear, even when it hurts. A nice person will smile and stay silent while injustice festers.

When Adichie says “Nice means wanting always to be liked,” she is naming a behavior deeply ingrained in many of us. And she notes, with care and clarity, that this is a particularly gendered burden: “This is a particular affliction of female socialization.” Girls, far more than boys, are taught to be agreeable, compliant, and accommodating. They are often praised for being polite and punished for being assertive. The consequence? Many women are raised to believe that their worth is tied to how little they disrupt others’ comfort, even at the expense of truth or justice.

She presses deeper when she says “Nice means silencing inconvenient truths.” Whether in our personal lives, workplaces, or broader society, the desire to remain liked can easily become a muzzle. The truths that are most necessary to say—about racism, sexism, exploitation, inequality—are often the ones most likely to make people uncomfortable. But growth does not come from comfort. It comes from honesty.

Adichie reminds us that “Nice means choosing always to be comfortable. Nice means letting go of courage.” This comfort, when prioritized, becomes a barrier to action. True justice demands that we step outside the safety of pleasantries and into the uncertainty of moral action. Being kind may mean rocking the boat. Being kind may mean saying something unpopular. Being kind may mean being misunderstood.

Then comes one of the most searing lines in her speech: “Nice means talking about peace. But not about justice.” Too often, societies aim for peace without addressing the root causes of conflict. This is peace built on silence, not on healing. It is a fragile peace, bought by avoiding the uncomfortable work of naming and correcting injustice. Real peace is not the absence of conflict but the presence of justice.

She then shifts to the perfection trap: “There is no such thing as a perfect human being. The longing for perfection will hold you back.” This is a crucial message in a world that demands flawlessness before credibility. Many people hesitate to act because they believe they’re not yet good enough, wise enough, pure enough. But this delay serves no one. Waiting to be perfect before speaking up or taking a stand means that injustice gets to continue unchallenged.

In a line both graceful and revolutionary, she concludes: “I wish you everything you wish for yourself that causes no harm to others.” This is a radically ethical wish in a world often consumed by ambition without accountability. She doesn’t deny people the right to dream or strive—but she gently reminds us that our pursuits must never come at the cost of others.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s message is a clarion call for moral bravery. Her words speak not only to the Yale Law graduates she addressed, but to each of us. In a time when so many are obsessed with being liked, with going viral, with staying neutral, she offers a refreshing and bold alternative: tell the truth, disrupt the peace if necessary, act with courage, and let kindness—not niceness—guide your steps.

We do not need to be perfect to begin doing what is right. We only need to be willing, to be honest, and to be kind. Not nice—kind. And in that simple distinction lies the power to change the world.