Nneoma Nnaji was a University of Northern Iowa student from Nigeria, double-majoring in biomedical science and public health, who had gone viral on Instagram before she’d ever thought of herself as a content creator. It was the first time she and Isaac had spoken, and the episode covered the moment a single post sent her following from zero to 60,000 overnight, what brand deals actually look like for a college creator building in Iowa, and why making an audience far from where you grew up is both harder and more freeing than it sounds.
How Nneoma Nnaji Went Viral
At an event in Nigeria, there was a 360-degree spinning photo booth — the kind that were circulating all over social media at the time. Nneoma’s sister filmed her doing it. Nneoma didn’t particularly want to post it — it was live footage and she wasn’t sure about putting herself out there — but her sister pushed her to share it while waiting for the official version.
She posted it. Woke up the next morning confused.
“I woke up the next morning I seen 5,000 people follow — did I post something that I was not supposed to? Did I post… because like, make this make sense.”
Her cousin had to come wake her up to explain what was happening. In that one week, she went from nothing to 60,000 followers on Instagram.
“My cousin woke me up. He’s like, you’re famous. I said, what do you mean? He says, go check your Instagram. In that one week span where I posted that video I had like 60,000 followers on Instagram — out of nowhere.”
The sister had been the instigator from the beginning — and kept being the person who pushed Nneoma toward the things she didn’t think she wanted to do. Any time her sister suggested a video idea, it moved. Things Nneoma wouldn’t have posted on her own would go viral when her sister said to post them.
“She’s the one that pushed me really into social media cuz she’s like, you need to get paid.”
What came next was a YouTube channel — starting with the story of how the viral moment happened, then her visa journey, then follow-me-to-America content as she prepared to move to the US. One thing rolled into the next.
From Nigeria to Iowa
Nneoma came to the University of Northern Iowa in Cedar Falls on her uncle’s recommendation. He’d attended Iowa State and thought smaller class sizes and a quieter pace would ease the culture shock. She’d deferred when COVID hit, had her first visa appointment denied, and finally made it through on the second try.
The expectation had been a big-city American college experience — something out of a movie set in New York. Iowa was the opposite in every way.
“Iowa is like the Midwest — people in America don’t even know about Iowa. It was just like, okay, this is not what I expected.”
The first few months were fine. Then around the six-month mark, it hit.
She found her footing through the friends she made at UNI — people who showed up in the comments, shared her content, and actually told her they believed in what she was building. The friendships she hadn’t expected to make had become the ones that mattered most.
“I’ve made new friends which I’m very grateful for — because those friends are the ones that actually support me right here. They see what I’m doing, they’re like I’m commenting on every video and I’m telling people I know you and I’m sharing your videos.”
One thing she noticed about Iowa — and America more broadly — was how little anyone cared about someone walking around with a camera. Back home there were eyes on you, questions, scrutiny. Here, people were just going about their day.
“The majority of people that move here — Americans just don’t care. Like you’ll be walking on the street with the tripod in the center of the street… people are going to look at you but they’re not going to see nothing.”
Brand Deals, Gifting, and the Doom Scrolling Problem
Nneoma had tried a few different approaches to brand work. She’d joined a campus-focused influencer network where she could apply to campaigns, and sometimes a package would just show up in the mail unannounced. Some brands had also found her directly through Instagram. Cold emailing had mostly resulted in rejections she didn’t have the patience to push through.
The approach she’d settled on was selective: only apply for products she’d actually use.
“I always only apply for products that I use — I’m going to use this for like one week straight and see if you’re really talking about what you’re talking about. Cuz if you’re not, I’m not going to say nothing. But if you are, I’m going to be like, oh, this is really nice.”
The tradeoff with brand content was that it almost never performed like her personal posts. Sponsored videos consistently got less traction than whatever she made for herself. The work with the most commercial pressure got the least reward.
The bigger ongoing battle was doom scrolling. Watching other creators for inspiration reliably backfired.
“I’m a victim of doom scrolling — I try to watch other people do stuff so I can get inspiration but at the end it just like kills me. I would never be as good as this person, like what am I doing, let me just end this right here.”
Isaac’s approach had been extreme but effective: after posting, respond to comments for ten or twenty minutes, then delete every social media app from the phone entirely. Reinstall the next morning just long enough to post again.
“After I get done posting I respond to people for 10 or 20 minutes and then I delete all the apps — I don’t put restrictions, I just straight up delete them every day.”
The logic was simple: creators should be creating, not consuming. The apps were built to maximize the consuming. Taking them off the phone was the only reliable way to stay on the right side of that.
Finding Community in the Midwest
The Iowa content creator scene, at least in Cedar Falls, was close to nonexistent in Nneoma’s experience. There was one other creator she’d found at UNI with a strong TikTok presence, but the platform’s messaging limits made reaching out nearly impossible. Des Moines had more going on, but that was two hours south.
“I like to say it’s non-existent if you ask me.”
Back in Nigeria, she would have had a ready-made network of creators to collaborate with. At UNI, most of her friends were supportive but had no interest in being on camera themselves.
“Most of my friends they don’t like social media — I’m like, come let’s go make a video. They’re like, girl no, I’m not in your video, like move. I’ll help you take pictures but don’t involve me.”
She’d found a different kind of community through the UNI rugby team, which she’d joined the previous semester. The team competed through a national club rugby structure — not an NCAA sport yet, but organized enough to travel to Minnesota and Iowa State for matches, with some teams making trips as far as DC. She loved her coaches and the intensity of it.
What’s Next
Nneoma had one year left at UNI before finishing in May. After that: grad school, and a move to Chicago — a city she’d visited and immediately loved. If a gap year happened between graduation and grad school, she’d use that time to go all-in on content.
Full-time creator wasn’t a path she held too tightly. She had too many interests to pour everything into one lane. The longer-term vision was having enough revenue to hire editors and stay in the making-videos side of it without also doing everything else.
“I just have too many interests to do one thing full time so it’s always going to be part-time — maybe in the future I would make enough money doing it that I can be like, oh, I’ll make the videos, you just edit them.”
Isaac had been thinking about the same thing from a different angle — the value of documenting exactly where you are, even when where you are doesn’t feel like much. The creators who built real traction often weren’t the ones chasing beautiful locations. They were the ones actually looking at what was around them and pointing a camera at it. The ordinary life, documented honestly, tends to be more interesting than the polished version of somewhere else.
“I think most of our joy should be what we occupy our day with rather than where we’re located.”
Nneoma had earned that perspective the hard way — moving further from home than most people ever will, building something real in a place that offered little creative infrastructure, and keeping at it anyway.
Key Takeaways
- One post can change everything — but only if you actually post it. Nneoma almost didn’t share the video that got her 60,000 followers. Her sister pushed. That’s the whole story.
- The people closest to you are often your best creative directors. Nneoma’s sister consistently knew what to post better than Nneoma did — and she was right every time.
- Only partner with brands whose products you’d actually use. Gifted content you can genuinely speak to performs better and feels better to make.
- Delete the apps after posting. Doom scrolling kills creative motivation faster than almost anything else — removing the tool removes the temptation.
- Small-town Iowa doesn’t have to mean a small creative life. Building an audience without local peers is harder, but the demand for good content in smaller markets is real.
- Document where you are, not where you wish you were. The most compelling content often comes from turning the camera on the ordinary life you’re already living.
Follow Nneoma on Instagram. Connect with Isaac at isaacjarnagin.com.
