I have been turned away from rooms I was supposed to be in.

I have watched others walk straight through doors that took me years to find.

That gap, between who a space says it is for and who actually gets inside, is where most of my work lives.

My name is Lanre Balogun.
I am a researcher and writer based between Lagos and Amsterdam.

Lanre Balogun

Researcher & Writer

I grew up in Lagos and ended up in Amsterdam. Both cities have the same habit of making some people feel entirely at home and others feel like they are perpetually at the wrong entrance. That observation became a preoccupation. The preoccupation became research. The research kept sneaking into my writing. The two have not been fully separable since.

The work has taken me from Amsterdam's cultural institutions to a candomblé courtyard in Salvador, from nightlife door policies to questions of ableism in public space, and what happens when private equity buys a queer festival. The thread is always the same question: who bears the cost, and who captures the value.

I write for the Prince Claus Fund, MAXIVIVE, Gayasszine, and The Republic NG. I research, consult, and end up on panels. I also host Èkó Electro, a radio show where a track by Fela Kuti or Biggie becomes the entry point into a conversation about degrowth, decolonisation, or the politics of billionaires.

I am also developing Èkó Alara, a community radio and kitchen space in Lagos. If this interests you, get in touch.

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If something here feels like a conversation worth having, please reach out lanrebee@protonmail.com or fill out the form below.

I keep arriving at the same scene. A space that presents itself as open: a museum, a festival, a nightclub, a funding call, a city, a religion, a body; and the quieter, more uncomfortable reality of who actually gets to be inside it.

That gap is where my research lives. It shows up in policy documents, in funding decisions, in who gets let in and who gets turned away. It is not abstract. It has names.

My tools are mostly qualitative: interviews, document analysis, contextual observation, and the personal essay, which I have come to think of as research that refuses to pretend the researcher is not in the room. Where the question demands it, I will reach for GIS, data visualisation, or even stretch myself into some spicy statistical analysis. Either way I am looking for the same thing: the place where the official story and the lived one stop matching.

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research

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The pieces below share the same underlying preoccupation of who bears the cost of a system, and who captures its value, but are expressed across different contexts. Some are being converted into publishable articles.

This research is alive. It moves into essays, public dialogue, and commissioned work... and keeps returning with new questions.

Some of this is personal essay, the subjects are scattered and the pieces do not look like each other. A candomblé courtyard, a birthday party, a fist, a Pan-African rockstar.

The subject changes. The underlying question does not: who is this for, and what does it cost to belong here.

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If you are working on something that needs this kind of writing: an essay, an interview, a piece of research that needs to travel beyond the institution it came from, Get in touch.

Research that never leaves the page is not finished. I have never been comfortable leaving my work inside the institution that produced it.

My work travels into radio, live conversation, panels, and the dancefloor.

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The work is ongoing and so is the conversation. If you are building something that needs a voice, a researcher, a host, or a dancefloor with something to say, I would like to hear about it. Get in touch.