
Nigerian Canadian actor Oyin Oladejo’s career was blasted into hyperspace in 2017, after she landed the role of Lieutenant Commander Joann Owosekun in Star Trek: Discovery. The Humber College grad was on the verge of quitting acting, and it’s a good thing she didn’t: the new Trek was a smashing success. Oladejo has since returned to Soulpepper Theatre, the production house she once trained at, to embody Medusa, the serpent-headed gorgon of Greek myth, in a new play dedicated to the rage of the misunderstood. The production features an auditory twist: audience members will all wear headphones transmitting Medusa’s inner monologue, vocalized by others and acted out by Oladejo. We caught up with Oladejo to talk about her roller coaster of an early acting career, how it kept pulling her back and what makes her Medusa-level mad.

When did you first realize you wanted to be an actor? I never did. I can’t count the number of times I’ve finished a show or a film and said, “I’m quitting!” But I keep getting pulled back in. Only after a decade of doing this am I now surrendering to the fact that this is what I’m supposed to do. I have this desire to serve people in the arts.
What keeps pushing you away? Acting costs a lot for me. I invest a lot of passion and emotion into it. I give it my everything. Right now, I’m losing my voice after rehearsing Medusa over and over. I broke out in hives in the last show I did. My teammates would call me a bit anal since I tend to go overboard: in the first couple weeks of rehearsal for this show, I was already off book. I’m not expecting people to be at my level of obsession. But, when I don’t see it in other people, it wears on me. This feels like a sacred calling to me.
Sacred how? My desire has always been to be of service to people. Growing up in Nigeria, I saw things that made me want to stand up for others. After I came to Canada at 16, I wanted to be a lawyer. But not long after I moved here, I was involved in a criminal case as the complainant. I was still adjusting to a new country and often felt overwhelmed by the process. I felt that the system that was meant to protect me didn’t, and I came away feeling that the humanity in justice was lost. My dreams shattered. I was working a job answering phones at the Canadian Opera Company when I saw my first live show. Everyone seemed to be having so much fun, and despite never having acted, I wanted to try it. Someone told me to google acting schools, and I applied to Humber—the first one that came up—and got in.
What was the program like at Humber? Far harder than I expected! I had to perform emotions, become a tree, become a character. I couldn’t do it. I quit after just a few months and moved to Calgary to work as an administrative assistant. But that taste of acting kept pulling me back, and I chose to return to Humber. It opened up something in myself I didn’t know existed. There’s something about the art world that lets me serve people—defend them, tell stories that change lives—just like I wanted to do as a lawyer.
Your education included several plays with the Soulpepper Academy. Did you ever imagine you’d return to Soulpepper in a lead role? Never! I had no expectations at all. The academy taught me to be completely open and vulnerable. One of our best teachers, Daniel Brooks (God rest his soul), gave us no space for faking it. He taught me that if I wanted to change the audiences’ lives, I’d have to let go of any desire to please them. I had no idea that this thing that looked so fun would require something so deep from me. That’s completely unique to acting. What other profession demands a part of your soul? I was playing the role of a villain in Three Sisters, and one night, I couldn’t sleep: the character kept whispering to me, “Do not cheat me! I am all of these things—a bitch, a nice person—do not cheat me!” The characters are people of their own in another ether.
You’re best known for your part on Star Trek: Discovery. How did you land that role? I learned that I’d got that part when I was in Vancouver, working as a landscaper. I had quit acting, again, and I was enjoying mowing lawns, raking leaves and trimming hedges—all nice, unthinking jobs, so different from acting. My agent pushed me to just do the video audition for this part—I didn’t even know it was Star Trek. A few days later, she said they were considering me for the part. Pfft, I thought. And then I got it, in just a week, which is unheard of in the TV world.
What was it like jumping from stage plays to a sci-fi show? Completely different, and I wasn’t prepared at all. The minute the camera was pointed at my face, I froze. I struggled with my first line so much—it must have taken 15 takes for me to get the words out. I have insecurities about my speech and accent, and I was constantly stumbling on my words. I called my agent and said I thought I’d be fired. But one of the executive producers was very kind, and the cast were so supportive. Some people start with a short film here, a guest role there, but this was my very first thing. It was extremely scary.
You took a break from the show in 2023. Were you overwhelmed? That happened after I started hearing people say I had inspired them to become doctors or engineers. Just from me acting on a ship in the sky! Suddenly, the same thing I’d felt in theatre, I was feeling in TV. It inspired me to take a break so I could come back and hold space. I had also gone back to Nigeria to shoot a short film, Aura. The reception of that film there blew my mind. My heart and soul weren’t ready to be welcomed back with such love. So from 2023 onward I just eased down: no auditions and only plays that came to me. Medusa is the only play I’m doing this year.
What did that sabbatical look like? I went to a silent meditation retreat outside of Thunder Bay for a few months. They don’t let you bring your phone or even read. It was just me and the woods.
The writer of Medusa has described it as a play about rage. How do you get into that headspace? What pisses you off the most? What drives me nuts are the simplest things: as human beings, we don’t care for each other enough. I’ve gone through a lot to get to where I am—abuse, things like that—but those experiences have made me compassionate and forgiving, if intolerant at times. What makes me angry are more the little things, like when someone avoids making eye contact with an unhoused person on the street. Were we more aware of our own selves, we could make room for each other. That makes me freakin’ angry.
There have been countless plays about Medusa over the centuries. What’s something special you’re trying to bring to the character? That she is the consequence of injustice. She’s what happens when we fail to see a person fully. She has gone through so much and has been changed by suffering. That’s why she’s the woman with snakes for hair. So many people walk around with suffering inside. They can’t share it, because speaking about pain is uncomfortable, so it eats away at them. I’ve been volunteering in a women’s shelter, and so many of the women are there because they haven’t been seen clearly. They withered down over time. Medusa gives people a chance to express that range. She’s a myth, but one who represents something in all of us.
This show has a twist: the audience will be wearing headphones transmitting Medusa’s internal monologue. How does that affect your performance? Other people are speaking those lines, and I have to react to them. I don’t wear headphones myself, so I don’t experience it the way the audience does. When I talk to the actors on stage, I also have to act out myself thinking those inner thoughts. It’s difficult—and frustrating—but I’m grateful for it. No one changes without friction. When the snakes are speaking, I want to turn to face them, but I can’t because it’s my own head. When the snakes whisper through 200 pairs of headphones, it takes on a different quality. The sound washes over me and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It’s a beautiful challenge.
What’s next for you? I don’t know, but I’d like to relocate to Vancouver. There’s something about the environment there that I love. I’d like to do more TV, but as a director and creator this time. I want to make room for people to do the thing I’ve fallen in love with. There’s not a lot of money in theatre, but I want to make roles for people to keep practising and maybe change the world, if they’re interested. I’ll always come back to Toronto, though!
This interview has been edited for length and clarity
Anthony Milton is a freelance journalist based in Toronto specializing in long-form magazine writing. He previously worked as an assistant editor at Toronto Life, where he launched the Front Row newsletter. He regularly contributes all sorts of stories to the magazine, including deep dives on sports, business and housing as well as short-form commentary on our ever-changing city, from its obsession with cherry blossoms to its maddening NIMBYism. His work has also appeared in Maclean’s, Ricochet, TVO, the Trillium and more.