Igwe Aka Is On A Mission To Fuse Worlds With “CHASE”

Posted on by Dodi Igwe

We’re halfway through 2026 and Igwe Aka is still going strong with his latest release, “CHASE” featuring Nigerian rapper ARTSALGHUL. The single is coming almost four months after ‘WAWA MUSIC’, the project that solidified the ties of the Sacramento-based rapper back to his Igbo heritage. It consists of just two songs, “EGONOMICS” and “BACKASSI”, the latter in collaboration with the Alté music icon, Odunsi (The Engine).

 

Igwe Aka gained local traction from ‘WAWA MUSIC’ by implementing aspects of his Eastern Nigerian culture like Igbo inspired imagery in the cover art, traditional instruments in the songs and the use of the Igbo language in his lyrics. He carries this representation along with him in “CHASE”.

The new single is heavily Trap inspired, with a sound that’s become a familiar trademark of the Nigerian Underground scene. His cultural merger is just as prevalent in “CHASE” as it is in his previous projects with the lyrics “I waka from the East side(East), My cana from the West side(West)”, showing his roots in Eastern Nigeria and his sonic birthplace in Sacramento, based in the western state of California, USA.

ARTSALGHUL jumps into the track halfway in with his gritty vocals, native to the Nigerian Underground, elevating the tone that Igwe Aka brought in right from the start. They both worked in tandem to produce a song that’s reflective of the current sound that’s common in alternative, underground spaces. 

 

Another interesting element of the single is his peculiar use of percussion. Some fans speculate that the rapper derived it from the generational video game, Minecraft. The sound is associated with what players would hear when taking damage in the game. Its implementation may be odd at first, but upon further listening it places itself perfectly within the song.

“CHASE” is yet another installment in Igwe Aka’s current era that sees him blend two seemingly contrasting cultures in ways that perfectly amalgamate them both, and may very well be a developing shift for diasporic artists.

Listen to “CHASE” here. 

Review: ‘Egertton’ by Egertton

Earlier in March, Egertton released “Obiokhan,” arguably his most polarising track to date. Originally premiering on the second instalment of Cruel Santino’s Subaru Live Radio, the single’s arrival sparked mild controversy over its “Incantation music” tagline – a loose term Egertton has used to describe his music that’s heavily influenced by his native Edo heritage – and its Cruel Santino-directed music video featuring an animated masquerade, leaving many unsure what to make of it.

For fans who had been following the young singer’s career since his late 2024 debut, the freakishly bubbly single wouldn’t have come as much of a surprise, as it cranks up the riotous, high-octane energy that defined tracks like “CRAZE” and “RAGE” from his debut EP ‘KARNAGE,’ But for listeners who only tuned in to the Edo-native after the success of his less-abrasive collab with scottyolorin, “MOLADE,” the track must have come across as quite jarring. 

It’s in the midst of this tension that Egertton has thrived so far. His eclectic output – that ranges from electric, mosh-pit-ready tracks to more melodious releases like “16 Missed Calls” and the aforementioned “MOLADE” – paints a vivid picture of an artist who rejects the polished romanticism that has dominated mainstream Afropop over the last decade, instead embracing distortion that draws equally from Alternative Pop, Rage Rap and Edo iconography. This daring and ravenous energy is what he brings to his self-titled debut mixtape, blending cinematic soundscapes with aggressive rage-driven production and soulful passages.

 

Across the mixtape, the singer makes it abundantly clear that he’s not in the business of conforming, either musically or otherwise. Halfway into “GANGSTER,” he sings ironically, ‘I love myself some feminine clothes, I accept it,’ before asserting that his sartorial choices don’t make him any less gangster and that shit ain’t sweet regardless. ‘Choppa on my hip incase a nigga want to test me / I swear to God I no go hesitate to shoot,’ he sings repeatedly, sending out a stern warning to those who might try to test him. 

Instead of sounding like he is litigating his own decisions, he speaks with absolute confidence in his actions, whatever they may be. Similarly on “REBEL,” one of the project’s highlights, he repeatedly sings, ‘Different pattern, I’m a rebel, different sauce, I’m a rebel, different sounds, I’m a rebel,’ almost like a personal affirmation and a defining manifesto that guides him and his artistry. 

This confidence and self-assuredness that courses through a lot of the lyrics on ‘EGERTTON’ is also reflected in the mixtape’s expansive sonic choices. With the help of his trusted producer DJ Primeau, who is credited on five of the project’s ten tracks, and other producers like Haram and Hebron, who are credited on “MY SKELLY” and the pre-released “ISSOKAYY,” respectively, the beats constantly shift beneath Egerton, refusing to settle into one sound or aesthetic for long.

 

The mixtape constantly alternates between abrasion and vulnerability. The Hip-hop-influenced banger “MY SKELLY” embodies its swaggering extremes, while the Indi-assisted “MIDNIGHT,” a love-inspired duet performed over some gauzy Dream-Pop production, briefly suspends that intensity, replacing blown-out bravado with aching intimacy. 

Other tracks like the energetic opener “IYEME” and the Soundchef-produced “BODY SPARKLE” also highlight this push and pull. The former erupts with the same frenzied intensity that has become one of the singer’s calling cards, while the latter leans into a more melodic sensibility without ever sacrificing the eccentricity that underpins the mixtape.

On the closing track “CHOSEN 1,” he reiterates some of the criticism and polarity that has accompanied his relatively short career so far: ‘He’s the chosen one, he’s not the chosen one / He can save us, he can’t save us / Crucify him, he can never resurrect / He’s the agent of the devil,’ before casually brushing them off and fixing his eyes squarely on his mission to prove his doubters wrong and in his own words, ‘televise my pain for my generation.’

 

It’s a grandiose claim from an artist still slightly finding his feet, but the drive and daring spirit that’s on display across the mixtape’s 25 minutes suggests he might just have the conviction to see it through. ‘EGERTTON’ is imperfect, occasionally sprawling and more interested in instinct than precision, but that’s precisely where its appeal lies. Rather than smoothing out his edges in pursuit of wider acceptance, Egertton doubles down on the very qualities that make him divisive, presenting himself as an artist who would rather provoke a reaction than fade into the background.

Listen to ‘EGERTTON’ here.

Kadaria Ahmed’s ‘Double Minority’ Is A Mirror Of Nigeria’s Discriminatory Electoral Practices

Posted on by Nana Yakubu

There was supposed to be a peace agreement in place on November 12, 2019. Natasha arrived at the Idrinana Hotel, Lokoja, Kogi State, expecting it to be a common ground. Instead, there were ten men at the entrance telling her she could not come in. When she pushed back, they pushed her to the floor. From the ground, she saw the knife. Policemen stood nearby. They watched. They did nothing. 

This is Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan telling her own story directly to the camera in ‘Double Minority,’ a documentary directed by Kadaria Ahmed. ‘Double Minority’ follows nine women who contested for public office during the 2023 general elections: Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan, Senator Ireti Kingibe, former House of Representatives member Nnenna Elendu-Ukeje, Adeola Azeez, Simi Olusola, Hauwa Gambo, Khadijah Abdullahi Iya, Munira Suleiman Tanimu, and Joyce Daniels. 

They were running for elections during the 2023 election cycle, contesting in Kogi, Abuja, Abia, Kaduna, Niger, Ogun, Ekiti, Niger, and Edo States, respectively. Their regions are different, but their challenges are nearly identical. But, this film is not just about these nine women. It is about all of us, because in their determination to serve a system that penalizes them for things that should not matter, they are a reflection of every Nigerian who has ever been made to feel that their voice, their vote and presence, does not count. 

The title needs some unpacking. A double minority is someone who is marginalized not for one reason but two distinct overlapping factors that compound against each other, leaving you with less room, access, and grace than anyone else in the same space. 

These women are double minorities because they are women in a political system built by men for men and are operating within a broken structure, one that runs not on what can actually be done for the betterment of the country, but on patronage, culture gatekeeping, and whether a powerful man somewhere decides your name is worth backing. 

 

Still, here is where the film stops being just about women, and starts being about all of us.

We ordinary Nigerians are also a double minority. We are marginalized and underrepresented by a government that treats its own people as inconveniences, one solely focused on its own survival and its own circle. And then we are marginalized a second time by something closer to home: our own helplessness. 

Our learned belief that our votes do not matter, that the system is too broken, that deciding is a luxury we cannot afford. Women made up just over ten percent of all candidates in the 2023 general elections, in a country where they make up 49.8% of Nigeria’s population. That gap is not an accident. It is a design.In multiple ways, we have been designed out of the room. We are being failed from above and failing ourselves from within. That is the double minority we don’t talk enough about!

Senator Natasha said something in this documentary that stuck with me: “When a woman stands up for herself, without claiming it, she stands up for other women. But, I say today, when a woman stands up for herself, she stands up for every woman, every man, for every child in the society.” Political participation is never just personal; it always carries more people than the person carrying it knows. 

We see this more poignantly in the legislative battles fought by political veteran Senator Biodun Olujimi. When Olujimi first introduced the Gender and Equal Opportunities (GEO) Bill in 2015, she didn’t do it alone.  It required rallying women across party lines, civil society organizations, and advocacy groups to push against a heavily resistant, male-dominated chamber. 

 

If you want proof that the system is designed to keep women out, look at the numbers from the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) and policy data groups. Nigeria reached its historical high for women in parliament in 2007, with 36 female lawmakers. Since then, it has been a steep, systematic erasure. 

By the time we arrived at the 2023 general elections, the very cycle tracked in ‘Double Minority’ saw the number of women in the National Assembly crash to just 21 out of 469 seats. That is a staggering 4.5% representation in a country where women make up nearly half the population. In 15 states across the federation, women were shut out completely, failing to win a single seat in the State Houses of Assembly.

These numbers aren’t just statistics; they are a reflection of the exact violence, weaponized poverty, and institutional pushback that Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan and Hauwa Gambo face on screen. Hauwa Gambo, founder of Sheroes Rising for Development Initiative, embodies the grit required to face this head-on. Gambo spent years writing and advocating for gender equity before the opportunity came to contest for office herself. When it came, she took it.

That is what We Decide means. Not as a slogan. As a practice! Simi Olusola said it perfectly: the government is the only institution that can bring about sustainable change at scale. She is right, but we only get to that government-level change when individuals first recognize the power they already hold. 

The scale starts small. It starts personal. It starts with knowing that joining a political party is a decision. Voting is a decision. Writing, speaking, showing up, and staying informed are all decisions and they  compound. The women in these films have the odds stacked against them in ways most of us cannot imagine, and still they are choosing every day to do something about it. 

Nigeria has treated every one of its citizens as a minority at some point. It has made us feel small, disposable, and irrelevant. Smallness is only permanent if you agree to it, and the women in ‘Double Minority’ do not agree. They did not wait for permission to matter. The next election is coming; the question is whether you will still be sitting down when it does.

How Nigeria’s Most Restrictive Universities Became Unlikely Music Incubators

Posted on by Sophia Nnadozie

There is an image most carry of where Nigerian music comes from. It involves open campuses and student unions, the kind of freedom that public universities have always traditionally offered. Institutions like University of Ibadan, University of Lagos, University of Benin have long been regarded as breeding grounds for talent, places where creative culture is allowed to breathe and find its first audience in the noise of a departmental show, a freshers night, a hall week where established artists perform and emerging ones open for them. For decades, the Nigerian music industry has drawn from that well.

But something else has been happening, quietly, on the other side of the fence.

Inside the gated, faith-based, rule-heavy world of Nigeria’s private universities, a different kind of creative culture has been forming–one built not on freedom but on its absence. In this case, it is not that restriction creates artists. The argument is that in Nigeria’s private universities, restriction has been creating very specific kinds of artists: ones who have had to want it badly enough to find a way anyway.

The template was established over a decade ago. In 2011, a young Davido skipped his studies at Babcock University to join the Lynxxx and Friends Tour in Ibadan. When his father saw the performance air on Soundcity TV, Davido got in trouble. Known for its strict regimentation of student life curfews, dress codes, and faith-based rules governing everything from what students wear to where they go, Babcock was not designed to produce Afropop superstars.

 

Yet, Davido’s father eventually struck a deal with him: attend lectures from Monday to Friday, and he would build him a world-class studio and fund music videos on weekends.  The negotiation between music and institutional control began there, and has not stopped since. What Davido established has become a pattern so consistent it now looks like a pipeline. 

At Afe Babalola University in Ekiti State, that pattern is most visible and most organised in its current iteration. Rising Afropop superstar, Mavo, is a 21-year-old student of optometry at ABUAD. On some days he is studying for his degree; on other days, he is an ascendant force in Afropop who comes up with radio bangers in his dorm room in his free time, preferring to hunker down with his music while his peers go to football pitches to blow off steam.  For his first four years in university, all he did was write music and record while building an expansive digital vault of songs. When the time came to start releasing music professionally in 2023, he had over 300 songs ready to go. 

 

Behind that output is Wana, the producer and engineer whose fingerprints are on the records that defined Mavo’s early sound. From “Escaladizzy” to “MONEY CONSTANT,” “Formula 1,”’ and “Hey Mama,” Wana’s production sits at the centre of what has become one of the most compelling sounds in Afropop right now. Two people, a dorm room, coasting alone on the kind of creative proximity that only comes from being in the same restricted environment with nowhere else to put the energy.

As it is, Mavo is not operating alone. Kobilou-born Kaobichiadina Jesse Nwamba-is also a student at ABUAD and has been building alongside him. In August 2024, Kobilou and Mavo released a joint EP, ‘Kobilou Kilobizzy,’ which peaked at number 72 on the Apple Music Charts and accumulated over 150,000 streams across platforms. His sophomore EP, ‘Pretty Girls Love Lou,’ followed in September 2025. Both are signed to the same management, Kilogbede Records. 

 

Photographer Peeko HD has been building a digital archive for the Nigerian streetwear scene, placing his subjects in raw and unfiltered natural environments, and fostering close relationships with key figures including Egertton, Mavo and others.  Around these artists, a visual language has developed as deliberately as the music. Mavo’s page moves between moody low-lit shots and sharp cinematic moments–graphic tees, oversized fits, sunglasses as a signature–a world being built image by image alongside every release. 

Egertton pushes it further: leather jackets, chain accessories, the circle-studded beanie as a recurring motif, theatrical colour against dark backdrops. The Alté  aesthetic–streetwear inflected with archival references, genre-defying in its styling logic–has found a new generation of practitioners in these campus environments. 

Mavo even created ‘Bizzypedia,’ his own dictionary of slang to describe his sound and world, a language as specific and deliberate as the clothes. Redhotsasa, a student at ABUAD captures the environment that makes all of this possible: “The school environment encourages creatives. They allow artists to promote their songs at parties and allow student producers to get in with their materials.” The campus is not just where the music gets made. It is where it first gets heard and where the visual identity that travels with it gets built.

In private universities, the hostel becomes the first studio and the first stage. Performances happen during free periods, in the windows between one institutional demand and the next, during holiday breaks when the grip loosens slightly. The restriction does not suppress creativity, it concentrates on it.

The public university story looks different but arrives at the same destination. Zaylevelten–alternatively known as Tenski, the producer behind some of his own records–is a UNILAG alumnus who built his creative identity in the more open environment of a public campus. At public universities, the institutional infrastructure works in the artist’s favour rather than against them. Freshers nights, hall weeks, and departmental events are avenues to sharpen their skills. Established artists perform at these shows and before the main act takes the stage, the emerging ones go first. That ladder is not incidental. It is how the underground community builds itself, how new artists find their first real audience, and how the music begins its journey toward the mainstream.

What has changed is the infrastructure through which all of this travels. Social media, streaming, and the collapse of the barrier between underground and mainstream have given the dorm room a highway to everywhere. Mavo writing a song at ABUAD, Wana producing the beat in the same building, Kobilou releasing a joint EP from the same campus, Egertton developing the visual language around it–amd all of it moving from Ekiti State to the rest of Nigeria without asking anyone’s permission. 

The pattern holds across private campuses. At Bowen University, infrastructure for creative expression is being created: a music studio students can pay to use, a talent competition called BGT (Bowen Got Talent), a dancing group that once rehearsed at 7am on Saturdays and performed at chapel services and school dinners. Zibi, a student at BOWEN, describes it as “such a huge deal.” 

Still, the same institutional forces that concentrate creativity also compress it. When the school management shifted curfew from 10pm to 9pm, the rehearsal culture that sustained the dancing group began to collapse. The group’s anchor graduated and the creative club went inactive. The last BGT produced a winning group who are now graduating. Onyeka, another student at BOWEN puts it plainly: “It is almost impossible to have a creative event in Bowen. A lot gets planned out for the session but Bowen constantly debunks all. The only one that happened this session came under sport and almost got cancelled on the day.”

Private Nigerian universities did not set out to build a music scene. Some created the conditions for one without realising it. Others have spent years trying to contain what they cannot fully see. What none of them could control was the hostel at 2am, the laptop, the beat, the 300 songs written in the margins of an optometry degree. The gate kept a lot of things out. It could not keep the music in. 

Interview: Fave Wants You To Understand Her Essence

Posted on by The Native

These days, FAVE is feeling seriously luxurious, and you can hear hints of it on her latest project, ‘RnBling.’ A glistening showcase of her talent, the six-tracker blends the singer’s pithy R&B foundations with a more cosmopolitan outlook taking influences from Dancehall and African Dance Music. “I bring my own interpretation to that because the bling side of it makes you hyper because bling is bold, bling is loud,” she told Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio. “It’s very much in your face. So I wanted to mix those two things to kind of present how I would be and how the songs on this project are supposed to be taken because they are definitely not soft.”

The topics explored on ‘RnBling’–ranging from romantic pining to heartbreak and the ecstatic euphoria of finding freedom on a dancefloor–offer up a potent reminder of FAVE’s powers and her mastery of melodies. It’s all in service of helping people gain a better view of her as a person and an artist. “I really hope people understand the type of artist that I am and my essence,” she says. “I want them to be able to apply these feelings that I’m communicating in the songs to their lives, to be able to see it as sort of an escape for a lot of times when they feel down, or even times when they feel happy and they feel like they’re so happy that they need to contain it.”

This interview has been edited for clarity.

What inspired the cover art for ‘RnBling?’

I wanted to give rhythm a different type of vibe and also convey a different kind of message. It’s a play on words with the R&B, but instead of rhythm and blues, it’s like rhythm and bling. I feel like there’s always this touch and blend of R&B with a lot of my songs. I was able to combine two things that I love the most, which is rhythm and then bling because I have this love for shiny things. So, bling was essential in putting together the theme for the project. I feel like the songs are different genres, but they all communicate rhythm, and they all make you feel bold in a sense. 

How did you realise music was your calling?

As a kid, I knew for a fact that I wanted to do music truthfully and seriously because I’ve always been the type of person to want to showcase the things that I do to other people just to get what they think of it or even find a way to build my community. When you share what you can do, then you’re able to find other people who can do stuff like that.  It becomes this shared hobby that we both have, like an extracurricular thing we could do after school or break time. I didn’t know in what capacity I would be pursuing music but I knew for a fact that I wanted to do music, but it took a while for my parents to be okay with the idea. In fact, they were never really okay with the idea until I recorded my first single, my second single, and then I started to pop off, and then they started to see me on TV. People started to talk about me, and then my parents were on board. But from a very young age, they had known that about me.  

What’s the messaging behind ‘RnBling?’

I think R&B has this staple, it communicates [being] soft and sultry. Something that is very, I don’t wanna say muted, but it gives you a very calm feeling. It makes you feel a way where you’re calm and you’re just cruising, you’re driving, and you’re like on a 20. You’re not moving too fast, but like I bring my own interpretation to that because the bling side of it makes you hyper because bling is bold, bling is loud. It’s very much in your face. So I wanted to mix those two things to kind of present how I would be and how the songs on this project are supposed to be taken because they are definitely not soft. They’re very bold. There’s Dancehall and there’s Afropop. There’s just so many vibes in the EP that aren’t necessary and don’t communicate that soft essence. Instead, they kind of merge it. You can get like the soft essence at the bottom, or you can get it somewhere inside, like this underlying tone. What’s really in your face is Afropop. What’s really in your face is Dancehall, and those drums, that sound, and the rhythm that it gives you is definitely bling-coded. It’s all in your face, and it’s something that you can’t miss. It’s something that makes you want to get up, dance, and move your body. [Its’s] very audacious.  

What do you hope people take from the project?

I really hope people understand the type of artist that I am and my essence. I want them to be able to apply these feelings that I’m communicating in the songs to their lives, to be able to see it as sort of an escape for a lot of times when they feel down, or even times when they feel happy and they feel like they’re so happy that they need to contain it. I hope that these songs on this project are like a good medium for that. I also hope that people are gonna wear more bling just in celebration of my project.

You’re always advocating for women, where does that come from?

I will always champion women because I am a woman as well. I see myself in every woman, and I feel like as much as a lot of people would love to say that things like there’s equality and all of those things, there are still a bunch of cracks in the system. I hope that when people see that I’m taking this route, it’s able to inspire some vim in them to do the same. So my hope is that people are able to open their eyes to see that there is so much more talent, so much more intelligence and smartness, beauty in the women around us. 

Superboy Cheque Is Extending The Narrative Of ‘YAZI’ With A Deluxe Version

Posted on by Dodi Igwe

With the release of a deluxe version of his EP, ‘YAZI,’ Superboy Cheque has elevated the emotional tone of his early 2026 project by dropping the deluxe edition. It consists of an additional 4 songs, “THANK YOU”, “KOSOMONA”, “GOODBYE II” and “ZODIAC II”. These tracks further push the narrative that he brought with the earlier release of ‘YAZI’, his path of love, hardships and success through a masterful mix of Hip-Hop, Trap and Afrobeats.

The four tracks start off with “THANK YOU”. The song uses a classic beat and trumpets typically associated with Hip-Hop and Trap music, with confident lyrics to reflect on moving forward rather than staying in the past , and being determined to achieve success despite the negative opinions and criticism that come up on that path. All this is further pushed by gratitude through his repeated use of the words “Thank you”, a nod of appreciation to how those cynical comments push him to success.

 

“KOSOMONA” carries us along an Afrobeat tune, exploring how Cheque struggled before becoming who he is today. This is evident from the lyrics “I had a life that made me tough” and “Me and my grind going better for worse, All of my guys know say e sure for us”. It perfectly captures the strive one undergoes to come out of a tough period of time, better and stronger than they once were.

“GOODBYE II” does a complete 180 turn from the aforementioned tracks. It switched up from the boldness of the aforementioned songs to a more heartfelt and emotional tone. The song reflects on the aftermath of a breakup, with the artist reflecting on the difficulty in saying goodbye. He even goes as far as to ask what the point is in having all his material possessions if he can’t have his lover by his side. 

Later in the song, Cheque talks about choosing to move on and love himself, despite his former partner not loving him. The Colombian artist, Goyo, is the standout difference in this record and its earlier counterpart, “Goodbye”. Although appearing on the track for less than thirty seconds, her voice and lyrics take the romantic theme, which was already prevalent on the track, to far greater heights.

 

However, “GOODBYE III” isn’t the only song that Cheque chose to bring a feature for. The artist ends the deluxe EP with “ZODIAC II”, bringing on Nigerian rapper Blaqbonez to sign it off. The track follows a different romantic vibe than we see on “GOODBYE II”, but still moves along a smooth, sultry tune. The track is perfect to finish off the project, talking about his admiration for another whilst still reflecting on a desire for a comfortable life and enjoying the fruits of his labour .

The additional songs on Cheque’s deluxe edition may be smaller in number compared to the artist’s original seven track release at the beginning of the year, but it’s still able to display Cheque’s journey of triumph and heartbreak without sacrificing any of it solely for replay value. 

Listen to ‘YAZI (Deluxe)’ here. 

How ‘The Polygamist’ Is Changing Perception Of African Television 

Posted on by Stanley Kilonzo 

Since it premiered in June this year, South Africa’s Netflix drama ‘The Polygamist,’ has taken over conversations across X, TikTok, Reddit and WhatsApp group chats, with viewers trading theories about Jonasi Gomora‘s next move, debating which wife deserved better, clipping dramatic confrontations into shareable videos and racing through all twenty-two episodes before spoilers flood their timelines. The conversations have been loud, emotional and delightfully messy, much like the show itself. 

The online frenzy translated into remarkable viewership. Within weeks, the 22-episode series had amassed 4.5 million global views and 43.8 million viewing hours, ranking as Netflix’s third most-watched non-English TV series worldwide for the week of June 29 to July 5 while remaining in South Africa’s Netflix Top 10 after its debut. 

What’s striking isn’t simply that ‘The Polygamist’ has become one of Netflix’s most talked-about African dramas this year. It’s how the audiences are talking about it. Not long ago, conversations around African TV–particularly shows released on global streaming platforms–often came wrapped in qualification. 

 

The issue with viewers has always been whether production values looked “international” enough. Critics debated whether African originals could compete with Hollywood. While praise frequently carried a disclaimer to support the show because it’s African–because local industries need investment and representation matters–those conversations haven’t disappeared entirely.

The response to the first season of the show however, suggests something is shifting. Increasingly, audiences are engaging with African productions the same way they engage with any compelling series that comes from the West by obsessing over characters, arguing about plot twists, creating memes and convincing friends to binge-watch as quickly as possible. ‘The Polygamist’ will not single-handedly transform African television nor do it overnight but its reception reveals that audiences may finally be moving beyond asking whether African productions deserve attention and toward a much simpler question: is it good television?

African television has never lacked compelling stories. What it often lacked was equal footing in the global conversation. When Netflix expanded its investment across the continent, every new release seemed to carry the weight of representing an entire industry. ‘Queen Sono’ wasn’t just another action series. It was Netflix’s first African original series. Following suit, ‘Blood & Water’ became more than a mere teen drama, it became proof that South African productions could compete in the streaming era. ‘Blood Sisters’ (Netflix’s first Nigerian Original series) and ‘Kings of Jo’Burg’ inspired similar conversations, with reviews frequently centering budgets, cinematography and comparisons to Western television.

 

Those discussions are understandable. African productions have over the last few years begun entering spaces where they have historically been underrepresented, and audiences understandably want them to succeed. But there is also an unintended consequence where sometimes the conversation becomes more about what these shows represent than what they actually are. Instead of debating memorable villains, favourite episodes or shocking finales, viewers often find themselves defending the legitimacy of African-made shows. 

That appears to be changing though. Scroll through discussions surrounding ‘The Polygamist‘ and other patterns are emerging. The internet isn’t preoccupied with whether the show proves African television can finally compete. It’s arguing over Jonasi’s decisions, ranking favourite characters, dissecting betrayals and predicting future storylines. In other words, audiences are allowing the show to exist as entertainment first and an industry milestone second. 

Kenyan-American producer, critic and screenwriter for the Showmax original comedy-drama series ‘Big Girl Small World’ Kui Mwai, believes that audiences aren’t responding to something entirely new. Rather than seeing ‘The Polygamist’ as a radical departure, she sees it as an evolution of a storytelling tradition that has long defined television across much of the continent. “I think it points to a longstanding defining characteristic of African TV and entertainment: sensationalized drama,” Mwai says.

Mwai’s observation reframes the conversation. Perhaps ‘The Polygamist’ hasn’t succeeded because it abandoned the conventions of African television, but because it embraced them. Its cliffhangers, family betrayals and heightened emotional stakes aren’t deviations from the continent’s storytelling traditions, they’re an intrinsic part of its DNA.

Part of that shift has to do with the show itself as it does with changing audience expectations. ‘The Polygamist’ embraces melodrama unapologetically. It doesn’t chase the restrained minimalism often associated with prestige television. Leaning into cliffhangers, explosive confrontations, complicated family dynamics and morally ambiguous characters, every episode offers another secret, another betrayal and another reason to keep watching.

For years, melodrama has been treated as television’s guilty pleasure. Yet audiences have rarely agreed. Across Africa, soap operas and telenovelas have remained staples of everyday viewing. Latin American and Filipino dramas built global fanbases long before streaming, while Turkish series routinely dominate international markets and Korean dramas have become worldwide phenomena while proudly embracing emotional storytelling.

Viewed in that context, ‘The Polygamist’ doesn’t feel like an exception. It feels like another reminder that audiences have always valued emotional investment over critical approval. Mwai believes that style of storytelling is especially well suited to the way people increasingly consume television today. “That soap opera-esque characteristic pairs well with streaming-era binge consumption,” she explains. “While the pendulum is swinging and appointment viewing is more prevalent than it even was a few years ago, binge watching is still a valued consumer experience.” It’s a compelling explanation for the show’s online momentum. Every revelation leads directly into another cliffhanger, making it difficult to stop after a single episode. The storytelling isn’t simply dramatic, it is structurally designed to reward binge-watching. 

Perhaps that’s why so much online conversation revolves around feelings rather than formal criticism. People aren’t sharing camera angles. They’re sharing disbelief. They’re reacting to betrayals. They’re choosing sides. The internet has become less interested in evaluating African television as an industry and more interested in experiencing it together.

For culture journalist and a former editor at Rolling Stone Africa, Usher Takudzwa Nyambi, the significance of ‘The Polygamist’ extends beyond streaming metrics or viral clips. He sees the series as evidence of the creative possibilities that emerge when African stories are given the resources to reach wider audiences. “I think the whole show is a vote of confidence in African literature,” he says, referring to the series’ adaptation of Sue Nyathi’s novel. “It highlights the symbiotic relationship between cinema and literature and what is possible if African stories are given resources.” 

Nyambi says he has already watched friends become interested in reading the novel after watching the series, illustrating how successful adaptations can create renewed interest in African literature while expanding the reach of African storytelling across different mediums. 

He also believes the show’s emotional core explains why it has resonated so widely. “The themes of polygamy, marriage, complicated family dynamics, infidelity and relationship trauma are something a lot of people face every day,” he says. “It might not be a personal experience, but most people know a ‘Jonasi’ or a ‘Joyce’ from their circles.” That familiarity is ultimately what separates memorable television from merely well-produced television. Audiences don’t become invested simply because a series looks expensive. They become invested because they recognise themselves–or someone they know–in its conflicts. 

 

It would be tempting to credit streaming platforms alone for this moment. Netflix, Amazon Prime and homegrown platforms such as Showmax have undoubtedly expanded access to African productions, introducing viewers to stories they might never have encountered otherwise. Someone in Nairobi can watch the same episode as someone in Lagos, Johannesburg or London, then immediately join the same online conversation. But streaming didn’t suddenly create great African content. African broadcasters, filmmakers, writers and television creators have spent decades building thriving local industries. Nollywood family dramas, South African soap operas, and Kenyan television to name a few, all cultivated devoted audiences long before algorithms and streaming entered the picture.

The latter however, did change visibility. By making these stories easier to discover, easier to recommend and easier to discuss across borders. According to Mwai, that transformation extends beyond where audiences watch. “TV shows and films reach far beyond their source material,” she says. “It’s all about the journey, the behind the scenes, the fan edits.” 

South African filmmaker and media specialist Tendani Selai believes the show’s virality at home and across the continent at large, wasn’t accidental. More than slick marketing or algorithmic luck, she argues that ‘The Polygamist’ succeeded because audiences recognised themselves in it. “From a social media perspective, I think the show generated so much conversation because it feels like a lived reality,” she tells NATIVE Mag. “So many people have seen or experienced this dynamic in their own families. That mix of relatability and controversy is what drove virality.” 

Recognition, she suggests, became participation. Viewers weren’t simply discussing fictional characters. They were comparing Jonasi and Joyce to people they knew, debating relationship dynamics in their own communities and using the series as a springboard for larger conversations around marriage, infidelity and family. 

That accessibility matters because recommendation culture increasingly drives what people watch. Audiences don’t necessarily discover shows through traditional reviews anymore. Selai argues that this shift has fundamentally changed how television spreads online. “A 30-second TikTok showing why you need to watch something can move audiences faster than a 1,000-word review,” she says. “WhatsApp groups amplify this even more because recommendations circulate through trusted networks.“

They discover them because someone posts a clip on TikTok, tweets an outrageous plot twist or insists that ‘you’ll finish this in one weekend.’ ‘The Polygamist’ has benefited enormously from that ecosystem. Rather than relying solely on Netflix’s or any of these platforms’ marketing, it has grown through conversations between viewers who genuinely want other people to experience the same emotional rollercoaster.

Whether ‘The Polygamist’ ultimately becomes one more of the defining African series is almost beside the point. Its greatest significance may lie not in its viewership numbers but in what its success makes possible. Nyambi believes audiences are increasingly rewarding stories that embrace, rather than dilute, their cultural specificity. “Right now we are living in an era of content shock where we are overwhelmed by what to watch,” he says. “When the industry is saturated, authenticity breaks through and the cream always rises to the top.” 

His optimism echoes a broader shift unfolding across the continent’s creative industries. Rather than asking African filmmakers to imitate Western prestige television, audiences appear increasingly willing to reward stories rooted unapologetically in their local realities. For years, African television was frequently discussed through the language of potential. But it is now time to rethink that. It is globally competitive. It deserves greater investment. It needs more recognition. Those conversations are necessary for audiences to engage with locally produced series the same way they’ve always engaged with compelling ones anywhere else.

One Year After ‘Captain,’ BNXN Is Still Hungry For More

Posted on by Michelle Ejiro

“5hrs Till Nairobi,” one of the standout tracks from BNXN’s sophomore album, ‘Captain,’ perhaps best reflects his state of mind while recording the project. Wrestling with the persistent anxiety that follows even the most successful artists, yet anchored by an unshakeable belief in his talent, BNXN lays bare the emotional tension that underpins the album: “Five hours till I land Nairobi, my passport with me,” he sings. “I’m kinda nervous if they even know me ’cause I went number one and I ain’t been there lowkey.”

Arriving three years after he emerged as the winner of The Headies’ coveted Next Rated category, and two years after his acclaimed debut, ‘Sincerely, Benson,’ ‘Captain’ vividly portrays the complexity behind the music that has earned him a place on global stages. His ability to introspect and tug at heartstrings as precisely as possible, without overly refining or simplifying the emotions at play–whether romance, heartbreak, survival, or even hedonism–has always been his greatest armour. 

 

Which is why, a year after the release of ‘Captain’, its songs have remained in rotation, dominating charts at different times.  On the goal for the project, Bnxn reveals that he aimed to outdo his debut. “I was spending late nights and early mornings working on it. I was doing things I hadn’t done on my last album and touching on topics I hadn’t explored before,” he tells Native Mag. “Before I dropped the album, my main goal was to surpass what I did with the last project. Looking back a year later, I can honestly say I did that and more.”

Over the past year, he has kept the project’s momentum alive, touring various cities and bringing the album’s experience directly to his fans. So far, “Phenomena” and the FOLA-assisted “Very Soon” have been his favourite songs to perform, the latter bringing into focus his excellence at collaborations. Bnxn glides smoothly through all his features, a trait exemplified by his recent joint effort with Sarz on ‘The Game Needs Us,’ a five-track EP that’s home to “Back Outside,” one of 2026’s irrefutable summer jams. 

While forging ahead, he’s still revelling in the remarkable success of  ‘Captain‘ while working on his third studio album and a couple of other projects on the side. Despite the increasing demands of fame, he remains steadfast in his strengths and continues to believe in himself. “In this industry, there are always moments of doubt,” he admits. “You doubt the music, you doubt whether the song will do what you expect it to do. But you need an unshakable mind that allows you to face things head-on.”

It’s been one year since ‘Captain’ dropped, what were your goals for the album and would you say you’ve achieved them so far?

Before I dropped the album, my main goal was to surpass what I did with the last project. Looking back a year later, I can honestly say I did that and more.The album exceeded my expectations in terms of statistics, impact, and how far it traveled. I was able to tour multiple cities with it and give people a real feel of what the album means to me. I’m just happy and grateful that I was able to accomplish that.

Was there a moment during the recording process when you knew the album was becoming something special?

Yes, there were several moments when I knew I was making something special. One moment was when I played the project for Burna Boy. He had no corrections, no pointers, nothing he wanted changed. He just wanted to be part of it. Another moment was recording “In Jesus Name” in South Africa. The whole studio froze. Everyone was just listening to what I was saying. Moments like that, from producers’ reactions to the mixing and mastering process, made me realize this project was different. I was spending late nights and early mornings working on it. I was doing things I hadn’t done on my last album and touching on topics I hadn’t explored before. That dedication made me feel like the album was going to be special.

 

Are there songs that almost didn’t make the final tracklist? How do you feel about them now?

There were a few songs that didn’t make the tracklist, including one with Burna Boy. But the songs that didn’t make it didn’t necessarily change the vibration of the project. I don’t have any regrets about the songs that made the album. Every song served its purpose and did well in its own way. 

Which song do you enjoy performing the most so far? 

If it’s a solo record, I really enjoy performing “Phenomena.” Every song has its own feeling, but “Phenomena” is definitely one of them. If it’s a feature record, I love performing “Very Soon.”

Was there a risk you took on this project that paid off?

The biggest risk was choosing when to release the album. I released it around a time when a lot of other albums were coming out, so I had to trust that my project could stand the test of time. Thankfully, it did. It’s one of the albums from last year that is still charting on Apple Music and Spotify, and that says a lot.

Is there something people still misunderstand about the album?

I wouldn’t necessarily call it a misunderstanding, but the album was originally meant to support a name change for me, but it became more than that. It became more than just an album or something I wanted people to identify me with. It became a statement. It was me communicating emotions and experiences that didn’t fully play out until months after the album dropped. That made me realize the album was timeless. It was something special.

 

You’ve established yourself as a proficient collaborator throughout your career, what’s your secret sauce?

It really comes down to dedication to my art and my craft, staying in tune with my emotions, and staying connected to God.

Are you currently working on any personal projects?

Yes, I’m currently working on my third album. I’m also working on some short-form projects and other things.

If you could pick three things that you’ve found useful or inspiring to your work or career, what would they be and why?

The first thing would be having a diligent team. You can’t do everything by yourself. You need people who are dedicated to seeing you grow as a person and as an artist. You need people who can correct you, support you, and keep you on track. Structure is very important. The second thing would be having a mind of your own. There were a lot of things I had to stand firm on and say, “This is what I want, and this is what it’s going to be.” In this industry, there are always moments of doubt. You doubt the music, you doubt whether the song will do what you expect it to do, but you need an unshakable mind that allows you to face things head-on. The third thing would be having a listening ear. It’s important to listen to people around you, whether they’re listening to the music or the message. Sometimes they can tell you when something doesn’t sound right or when something can be better. All three work hand in hand: having a dedicated team, trusting yourself, and still being open enough to listen and gather opinions. If you have those things, you can keep growing.

Interview: Abefe Is Here To Stay

Posted on by Patrick Ezema

Abefe’s page on TikTok is a collage of videos of the newly minted artist doing what makes him happiest: recording music. The 18-year-old broke out this year after submitting a cover to Amma’s open-verse challenge for “I Love You,” then following it up with his rendition of her “Where Did You Go.” Despite ultimately losing that contest, he gained a fanbase that has cheered him on since then. 

TikTok commenters can be supportive to an almost exasperating degree—as he depicts on the intro to his debut track, “Romeo and Juliet”—and the wind they have provided to his sails has been nothing short of propulsive. In under six months he has released four singles, most reworked to some extent from his covers, to good reception.

Now, with over a million Spotify monthly listeners, a song with the popstar Joeboy, and cosigns from Davido, BNXN, and more, Abefe has grown from TikTok hopeful to a proper artist, complete with a distinctive style and a loving fanbase, Abefeholics, that gains momentum every day.

 

While music was always Abefe’s passion, it wasn’t always his path. Before the start of the year, he harboured a very different ambition: to gain admission to the university to study architecture, graduate, then get a good job. He says all of those plans are still in place, but music provides for him an alternate pathway and reason to dream. It hasn’t always been the smoothest transition. He has had to adjust to working with producers for the first time, navigate the business side of the industry, and make music for an audience bigger than his core fanbase. His passion for the craft means every barrier is an exciting one.

‘Abefe (Begged To Be Love),’ his eponymous debut EP, announces the start of a new chapter. Where, once, his foray into music could have been considered tentative, this debut solidifies his intentions to showcase his artistry. The EP lives up to its title, placing the young singer in the corridors of romance in which he is most familiar, from asking for a romantic interest’s heart on “Achalugo” to begging for another chance on “Orekelewa.” Each time, he combines earnest songwriting with deeply nostalgic reimagining of Folk and Fuji music, crafting earworms that make their way to the heart.

 

Over Google Meet and a fairly stable network, the artist joins the call from Lagos, where, like a true studio rat, he is tucked away in the recording studio making even more music. He is a man of few words, but his love for music shines through in every answer, as he goes over his music influences, his new EP, being a lover boy, and more. 

This interview has been lightly edited for clarity.

Were you influenced by older genres growing up? 

Yes, yes, I was, like Fuji, like Apala. And other sounds too.

Did you have someone around the house playing them, or did you discover them yourself? 

There was always someone around playing the music. My mom always played some Fuji music, and in my environment they used to play all kinds of songs. So, I picked up one or two from there. 

Was music something that your family always encouraged right from the start? 

Not really. They didn’t push against it, but it’s not something they put all their support into. My mom is someone that wants me to go to school, so for my mom, I have to go to school, very very important. Music is something that I want to do for me.

Let’s talk about the covers, and particularly the cover for Amma’s song that brought you the most attention. Did you think that particular cover was different from every other one before you even released it? 

Not really, I put it out as part of my normal stuff. I just heard the song, I liked it, did my thing and posted it, and boom! I just love to record. When I like a song, I feel like I hear my part in it. 

Can you remember how it felt like when you saw, or perhaps someone showed you, that Davido and BNXN had posted your music. How did that feel? 

Nobody really showed me anything because I’m always online when it happens. I posted the first video, and I knew that it was going viral. I was always on my TikTok. Everything that happens, I see it immediately. I am always the one to give myself the news that these things are happening, exciting things. When Davido posted, I had to check and recheck again and again. 

Can you walk me through how an Abefe song is born? Do you get the lyrics first? Do you get the melodies first or the beats first? 

I just need a beat. Once I find a beat or when they send me a beat, I do my thing. I put things together in my head, then record. And I don’t write lyrics down. 

I think “Romeo and Juliet” was your first proper song out. And then it got over five million streams. How did it feel to get that with the first try? 

I was not expecting it at all. I knew something was going to happen, but I was not expecting it to be that much. You know it was first a cover to Kidd Carder’s “Big BumBum.” And when it went viral and crazy, the fans on TikTok asked for it to be a proper song since I could not release the cover out there. So, we had to redo the song, get the verses, new beats and everything. 

One thing about TikTok commenters is that they will encourage you. How do you feel to get so much support?

Very nice. “Abefeholics” are my family members, for real. 

 

Your debut EP, ‘Abefe,’ is out. Were there any nerves at all going into the release? 

Yes, there are. I am very nervous because it just has to do well. 

If you could only recommend one song to someone from the EP, that tells them who Abefe is, which would you pick?

That’s “Abefeholics.” I made that from everything that was going on around me at that time [when I started blowing up]. I put myself into it. I just put my fanbase into it, and everything that was going on. Everything was happening so fast, so I wrote a song of thanksgiving. 

Love is a big part of your music and it’s a big part of your themes. Would you say you’re a lover boy in real life? 

Yeah, I am. I am, definitely 

Can you share something crazy you’ve done for love? 

I left my house for a girl before at a very young age. It felt weird and crazy but I did it.

On this EP you have put out two of your biggest covers. Does that feel like a full circle moment, like everything coming together? 

Yes, everything is coming together, it feels so special. And nobody is expecting it

When people listen to your ‘Abefe,’ what is one feeling or thought that you want them to take?

I want them to know that Abefe is here.

 

Listen to ‘Abefe (Begged To Be Love)’ here.

Interview: Tekno Wants To Know Where Love Went

Posted on by The Native

Tekno built his career on being one of Afropop’s foremost interpreters of love, writing songs like “Pana,” “Rara,” and “Duro” that captured the ebb and flow of romance in the 2010s with a pithy essence that paved his way to superstardom. Over a decade since he broke through writing those love anthems, Tekno is often wondering what happened to the romance he knew.  “Since 2020, I think love hasn’t been the same again,” he expressed in an interview with Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio. 

The quest to understand and dissect the manifestations of love played a critical part in inspiring his third album, ‘Where Did Love Go?’  A lean eight-song effort that finds Tekno taking listeners through the motions of love from his perspective, the album cruises on the balmy, mid-tempo style that the singer made a name off. Songs like “Adaeze,” “Gently,” and “Matter” capture the singer at his graceful zenith but it’s another song, “Wedding Day,” that truly captured Tekno’s vision for ‘Where Did Love Go?’ “That’s the song I meant when I say where did love go,” he said. “People don’t love anymore these days. It’s so short-lived because there are people I know that got married and I performed at a wedding and in less than a year or two they were done. It’s like, ‘Oh my God, where did love go for real?’”

This conversation has been edited for clarity. 

How did your early experiences shaped your interest in music? 

I started playing the piano when I was very small in church. While everyone was trying to play the next choir song or the next hymn, I was more interested in remaking a beat to P-Square or Usher or Michael Jackson. So, I think that kind of framed me because my dad is a pastor as well. After he left the whole military thing and it was behind him, he got into church and I practically grew up in a church as well. So, that really influenced my music.

What was going through your mind while making “Holiday” in 2013?

At this time, I wasn’t thinking too much about it. I just had fun making music. I actually wish I could go back to that time, if I’m being honest. Like you didn’t care. It’s like there are no fans telling you, “Oh, we miss you, this, that, all that.” You just created for the sake of just creating music. So, I wouldn’t necessarily say I think I thought my life would change. I had way more fun making music then because it wasn’t so analyzed or whatever. It was just music. I think in those early years, it was just more music than a trend. These days when you have things like TikTok, it’s now like when you make music, you have to post it like this and you have to do this. Back then, it was just purely art. So, I feel like people nowadays most likely go for what people go for, not necessarily search out music on their own because of how the algorithm works. 

Do you prefer producing or songwriting?

I enjoy producing music, but I also enjoy freestyling. These days I actually enjoy writing. So, it’s a whole package, if I’m being honest. 

How did you deal with losing your voice back then?

I stopped being goofy and playful on social media after I lost my voice. I stopped coming on social media because I was just in my own world. I kind of got away from everything. So, now it’s like I’m gradually able to start posting funny-ass videos or just being playful again. It took me some time to get back because we’re habitual creatures. Sometimes, you think you know what you’re doing, but you don’t. You just built new habits for yourself. At other times, someone is like, “Oh, but you don’t post as you used to post.” It’s not because I didn’t want to post, it’s because that has now become a new habit. So for you to start doing that again, you have to now force yourself to do it and that becomes the new habit. I’m actually happy these days I’m able to just post and not care anymore. It took me time to find that version again, if I’m being honest.

What was the reasoning behind “Bamboo?”

That’s me tapping into my Dancehall side because if you listen to the track “Holiday,” you would notice that I was more Dancehall with that record. I was way more Dancehall, but when other styles came along, I just kind of dived into that because the fans really ate it up and making music like that came very easy to me. I’ve always loved dancehall, so with this album, I literally let myself make every type of music that I like to make. That’s why I produced most of the tracks on the album. “Bamboo” is special for me because tapping into Dancechall and making that was beautiful.

Is “Wedding Day” your favourite song on the project?

That’s my number one record. That’s the song I meant when I say where did love go. Songs like “Wedding Day,” “Adaeze,” those were the songs  speaking of where did love go. People don’t love anymore these days. It’s so short-lived because there are people I know that got married and I performed at a wedding and in less than a year or two they were done. It’s like, “Oh my God, where did love go for real?” It’s just for me personally and for my fans because most of my hit records are all love songs and they’re just funny little special love songs like “Yawa,” “Pana,” and “Duro.” I actually stopped making love records and now I’m asking myself that question as well while asking the rest of the world like, “Wow, what really happened?” Since 2020, I think love hasn’t been the same again.

Why did you make “Gently?”

It’s for the guys that love a woman hard and she just likes having him as an option.  It’s for those guys that want to get you flowers and get you bags on your birthday but it’s like some of the women these days prefer the bad boys and the dreadlocks and tattoos. Then there’s this guy with a simple low cut that works in the office, gets her flowers and he’s the one telling her to please love me gently and love me carefully. Obviously, they have hearts as well. The song is not for bad boys like us, it’s for the gentlemen. It’s a very emotional song. I feel like when I do the video for it, I’ll capture the essence of that song really because it’ll be like a mini film.

What do you think about men expressing their true feelings?

They’re not simps, that’s just how they love. That’s how they show love. They want to show you that they really do care about you, but you only know what you know. If he’s getting you flowers and being attentive to your birthdays and the things you like but he’s not a bad boy, he’s still a human. If you’re a woman and you love a guy like this, just appreciate him and love him gently. Not every guy is going to be mean and try to be like the stereotype that women like. People are who they are.

VVS LAGOS EXPANDS ITS CREATIVE UNIVERSE WITH ‘VVS: THE DESCENDANTS’

Posted on by Wale Oloworekende

For the past year, VVS Lagos has established itself as one of Africa’s most ambitious creative ecosystems, bringing together fashion, music, film, art and technology under one banner. That vision finds its loudest expression yet with the release of ‘VVS: The Descendants,’ a collaborative album that transforms the spirit of the VVS movement into music. 

Rather than assembling artists for the sake of a compilation, ‘The Descendants‘ captures what happens when a generation of creatives, each with distinct worlds, sounds and stories, create from a shared belief that Africa’s future is collaborative. 

 

The project features an expansive cast of artists including Jeriq, Prettyboy D-O, Trinidad James, CelebOniel, Sir Raheem, Blonde, Wavy The Creator, Firefly, Solis, Khevna, alongside a new wave of voices shaping the future of African music. Together, they deliver a body of work that moves fluidly between rap, alternative music, Afrobeats and experimental sounds without ever losing its centre 

Its title reflects a generation inheriting Africa’s creative momentum while refusing to be confined by it. These artists are descendants of rich musical traditions, but they are equally architects of what comes next. Their music draws from the streets of Lagos, the cadence of the East, the influence of the diaspora and the limitless possibilities of an increasingly connected creative world. 

 

More than an album, ‘The Descendants‘ reinforces VVS Lagos’ commitment to building platforms that don’t simply celebrate African talent but actively create opportunities for collaboration, discovery and long-term cultural impact. 

VVS Lagos is an annual multidisciplinary creative convention dedicated to elevating African talent across fashion, music, film, art and technology. Through cultural programming, industry conversations, mentorship initiatives and original creative projects, VVS Lagos is building a platform where Africa’s next generation of creators can connect, collaborate and shape the future of global culture.

Google Play Launches $1million Indie Games Fund For African Game Developers

Posted on by The Native

Google Play has launched its first Indie Games Fund, committing $1 million to support rising, innovative game studios from across 32 countries in Africa to scale their games and reach a global audience. The fund provides equity-free capital, technical support, and expert mentorship empowering African game developers with the skills and resources they need to thrive. 

While the African region is rich in creative talent and home to some of the world’s most compelling storytelling, limited access to capital has too often held back promising game studios. This programme addresses that barrier, delivering the critical financial and technical resources required for African indie developers to refine their creative visions, optimise their games, and share uniquely African stories with a global audience.

 

“Africa’s unique creativity has fuelled a vibrant game development scene,” said Ben McOwen Wilson, Managing Director, Europe, the Middle East and Africa for Google Play. “Bringing this fund to the continent underscores our commitment to unlocking the immense talent of local studios, providing the resources needed to scale businesses, refine creative visions, and share uniquely African stories with a global audience.” 

Applicants can review the eligibility criteria and submit their entries through the official program portal at Indie Games Fund 2026 before the window closes at on 31 July 2026. Final selections and the announcement of the 10 chosen studios will take place in September 2026.

The Indie Games Fund is open to applicants from Benin, Botswana, Burundi, Central African Republic, Congo (DRC), Cote d’Ivoire, Equatorial Guinea, Eritrea, Eswatini, Gambia, Ghana, Guinea, Guinea-Bissau, Kenya, Lesotho, Liberia, Malawi, Mali, Mauritania, Mauritius, Mozambique, Namibia, Niger, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Somalia, South Africa, Tanzania, Togo, Uganda, Zambia, and Zimbabwe.

ePianoh Wants To Democratise Music Production

Posted on by Praise Okeoghene Vandeh

“ePianoh is a music producer that cannot be put in a box,” ePianoh, born David Tope Ogunremi, recites his mantra to me over the phone. Artists have generally phrased this statement differently over the years so much that it is slowly becoming a cliché. But a glance at the music producer’s profile will have you reciting his mantra like an adhan.

The right description of the Grammy award winner would be an “artist” as everything he does falls under this umbrella. He is a music producer who earned a Grammy as a Choir director for the best Reggae album in 2025, ‘Blxxd & Fire‘; a music creator—which deals with the song’s core ideas like lyrics, melody and structure while the former concerns itself with the technical—a teacher; a YouTuber with over three million subscribers; and a digital content creator. But before these pathways sprung up, what was consistent was his piano and a beating heart for music.

He started off playing piano at church which is how the name “ePianoh” was forged. Soon after, he graduated to playing music at live concerts. He had his piano and the love for music pulsating through his veins and thought that would be enough, but when he looked at his forebearers in the industry, what he felt was the distinct sting of dissatisfaction.. “I saw people who had played the piano for 30 or 50 years and that was all they did with their lives,” he says. “It also seemed like they were always at the mercy of other people. I didn’t want that to be my story.”

 

Instead of sitting idly with this dissatisfaction, it became a catalyst. In an attempt to wade in different waters than his predecessors, he began posting his piano sessions online. But, as a true student researching his field, he found that his colleagues were doing so much more than piano sessions. Their videos were much nicer and most importantly their audios were clearer. “I started asking how they did it? I began researching and eventually discovered that you can record your audio and video separately. I could record what I was playing on the piano directly onto my computer, export the audio file and then layer it over my video later in post-production.”

The discovery pushed him into a tinkering phase: What if I added a beat to this? What if I layered something on top of it? And that was exactly what he started doing. “I began adding elements to my piano playing and that’s basically how my production journey started,” he recalls fondly. And like a town crier, he began shouting this knowledge on the mountains and over the hills.

ePianoh’s digital creator career is built on his tutorials. Some of his most popular videos include How to Make Afrobeats like a Pro which has 67000 views and Mix Vocals Like a Pro With Only Stock Pluggins has racked up 71000 views. He is dedicated to democratising music production knowledge in a world that heralds gatekeeping. People gatekeep because exclusivity makes them feel special, but ePianoh finds it all puzzling, “Why do I have to keep all this knowledge to myself?” he asks, befuddled.

There is a fear that when this thing that makes them noteworthy is given up, they will become invincible. ePianoh chuckles at the thought, his bemusement is rooted in admirable self-assuredness. “There is a soul to my music you cannot create,” he states matter-of-factly.

 

The tinkering phase of his music production journey was not without hurdles. “There were so many things I would have loved to learn but whenever I went on YouTube, I would find videos with titles promising to teach exactly that,” he explains, “By the time I opened them and sat through a 20-minute video, it often felt like the creator was just beating around the bush to get views, without actually teaching what I had come for.”

As someone who had survived the seven plagues of learning craft on the internet, his philosophy is why put others through it?

“Access” is a word that echoes in his mind each time he makes a new tutorial video. “I want to make music production possible for people who may never enter into a professional studio,” he states, laying down his mission and vision. “The industry is designed to favour people who have already made it. I just want to help people achieve their goals faster than they think they could.”

This Ubuntu-esque way of thinking has graciously rewarded him with a thriving digital creator career. Many recognize him first as a content creator and it has shaped how he views himself as a music producer. A producer’s work is behind the scenes; you gyrate to the beats of the music they have engineered but it is the artist you remember. It is because of this that they are often thought of as the underdogs of the industry. But with the boom of the creator economy, everyone has a product. And while that has its disadvantages, ePianoh is one of the beneficiaries of this shift.

“Today, if someone hears my tag, they can immediately connect it to me,” he says. “They know who’s behind the music. That visibility matters because it helps you build your identity as a producer. It strengthens your influence and allows you to market yourself as a brand rather than spending your entire career marketing someone else’s product. At the end of the day, the song belongs to the artist. The question then becomes: what is your product?”

That visibility has also translated into recognition beyond the screen. His choir production on Keznamdi’s Grammy-winning project earned him his first Grammy, marking a turning point in a career that had already begun stretching beyond Nigeria’s borders. Since then, his repertoire has continued to deepen, with production credits including Young Jonn’s “Pot of Gold” and a growing slate of collaborations with artists at home and abroad. For ePianoh, however, the accolade is less a destination than proof that the path he has chosen was worth taking.

 

Like many artists, he has been thinking a lot about his legacy and that Ubuntu way of thinking shines through again. “I want to leave a legacy of helping people achieve their goals faster,” he admits. “I want to be remembered as someone who did not gatekeep knowledge but shared everything I knew so others can learn and grow.”

Interview: Heavy-K Won’t Stop Evolving

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

Long before he became the Drumboss, before the chart-topping hits, sold-out shows across the globe, and status as one of South Africa’s most influential dance music architects, Heavy-K was simply a curious kid brought up with a profound musical foundation fostered by his father, a former band member. A routine errand to pick up movies for his brother would alter the course of his life. There, he stumbled upon a group of musicians working with keyboards and production tools that immediately fascinated him. This unexpected encounter set him on a new path: music

More than a decade later, the producer and DJ born Mkhululi Siqula has become one of the defining figures in South African contemporary music. From steering Afrohouse’s rise to helping shape the sound of contemporary 3-Step music, his fingerprints can be found across generations of hits and artists. Despite his success and longevity, Heavy-K still speaks about music with the enthusiasm of someone who is learning in real time.

 

In conversation with NATIVE Mag, he reflects on his unlikely entry into music, the origins of his Drumboss moniker, the evolution of his sound, and the lessons he’s learned from collaborating with everyone from emerging talents to some of Africa’s biggest stars.

This interview has been lightly edited for clarity.

How would you briefly describe your come-up story to someone unfamiliar with you or your work?

My love for music started from a very young age, but it wasn’t something I always thought I would do professionally. My father introduced me to a lot of music growing up. He used to be a musician. He played the guitar and accordion when he was young, but he stopped after a while. Even though he mostly played Jazz music, he made me listen to different types of genres, from Westlife’s Pop music to our own local Maskandi. 

One day, my brother gave me a USB stick and sent me to a township guy to get a bunch of new movies. When I got there, there was a do-not-disturb sign at the door. But then I could hear people recording and playing music inside. Eventually, they let me in, and I was so fascinated by what they were doing. There was a guy playing the keys while another person was messing around on Fruity Loops. From that moment, I knew this was something I also wanted to do. After they were done recording, I told the owner of the store that I would like to make music as well. I asked him to teach me the basics. He put the new movies on the USB stick and the Fruity Loops software as well. That’s how I got started producing music. 

There’s this picture of you that’s been floating around the internet. It’s one from when you were very young, sitting in front of a computer. Was that picture taken around the period when you just got into making music?

Yeah, that was me in my room. That was where I produced my first album, the one that had “Wena,” “Beautiful War,” and “Gunsong.” I made “Lento” even before I made that album. One of Professor’s biggest songs. The first time my father saw that song on TV, he shed tears because he was so proud of me. My mum was complaining because she didn’t see me in the music video. 

 

Your first album was titled ‘Respect the Drumboss 2013,’ and Drumboss has become synonymous with your name ever since. How did you earn that moniker? 

I really owned up to that name because I really am the drum boss. I don’t think there’s anyone who programs or plays drums like I do. Also, I remember I liked Rick Ross a lot; he’s a big and confident guy who calls himself a boss. I’m also a big guy and very confident. I’ve never felt I need to shrink myself or look a specific way. So I embraced that. I’ve never had a boss or worked for anyone in my life. I’ve been my own boss since I was a kid. 

You’ve been making music for over a decade now, and you have contributed heavily to the evolution of Dance music in South Africa. How do you think your sound has evolved over the years since you first started making music?

As you know, nothing ever stays the same. But the great thing is, I have always had a futuristic sound. There are new guys like JAZZWRLD and Dlala Thukzin doing great things at the moment, but if you listen back to some of my old stuff, you can see I laid the blueprint for a lot of what we’re hearing today. Back then, random people, even industry peers, would tell me my sound was way ahead of its time, but I never really understood it then. But then, as time went on, I could see that even though the sound was evolving, it still had elements and styles that I had incorporated years back. 

Things always change. If you listen to some of my new music, the BPM is much slower than it used to be. For example, when Amapiano became popular, I knew I had to adapt and reduce the BPM a little slower. There was a saying then: ‘The aim is not to sweat,’ and the music I was putting out had to adapt to that change. 

You’ve collaborated with so many people over the years. Names like Thakzin, Ami Faku, Burna Boy and Tresor. What do you think makes you such a great collaborator?

I think it’s because I never stopped being a student. I know I’m a genius, and I don’t feel the need to prove it to anyone else. There are times when you get in the studio with some artists, and the ego in the room is louder than the music. I feel like if we get in the studio, you should leave your ego at the door. We’re just two creatives trying to learn from each other. I don’t force collaborations, and I also don’t charge for a beat. If the energy is not right or the collaboration is not aligned with what I’m trying to do, I won’t do it. I try to keep my music as authentic as possible. That’s why I enjoy working with newer, younger artists. Because at that stage, there’s not much ego, just a hunger and desire to work. 

Are there younger South African artists or producers you think deserve more attention right now?

Yeah, there are names like Justin Chalice, Mazet, and Khazozo. I found Khazozo on TikTok; he’s really talented. We recently made a song called “iBhodlela” together. 

 

You have a busy tour schedule. You’re on the road every other month. What’s life on the road like? 

It’s amazing. I knew when I started making music that it came with this lifestyle. I spend a lot of time away from home. But I love connecting with people all over the world. You can’t control where the music goes. Music can take you anywhere, so you just follow. Travelling around also opens your eyes and makes you think of things a little differently; you don’t become close-minded. I only wish I could skip all the flying and security checks at the airports. Aside from that, it’s great. 

Is there one track from your extensive discography that deserves more recognition?

“Andikayeki.” It’s a song I did with Ami Faku. It’s a powerful song. 

Interview: Joey B Is Ushering In A New Era With  ‘Sexy Highlife’

Posted on by Nana Kojo Mula

Over a decade into his career,  Joey B, one of Ghana’s most innovative artists, does not seem to be slowing down. Constantly pushing the boundary with his music, fashion, and overall lifestyle, Joey continues to reinvent himself  while simultaneously propelling Ghanaian pop culture forward. Two projects, ‘Darryl’ and ‘Lava Feels,’ and multiple hits down the line, Joey’s ability to push the needle and remain unboxed have solidified him as an icon. 

His admiration for Ghana’s music heritage and appreciation of Cash Cobain’s sexy drill sound have jointly inspired his new sonic direction. With the release of “Princess,” “Suzzy Williams,” “Akorfa,” and “Yaa Brefi,” Joey was building up to the release of his third project,  ‘Sexy Highlife.’

 

Speaking to  Native Mag, Joey B describes the project as something he made not only to promote Highlife but also to encourage others to create without hesitation. Not only experimenting with Highlife but also stretching to Zouk, Sexy Drill, and Kompa, ‘Sexy Highlife’ finds Joey at his exploratory best. 

This interview has been edited for clarity. 

What was the vision coming into this era of Joey B?

I do not believe in being boxed in, playing into the industry, or seeking approval from it. I wanted to experiment as always, and “Princess” was not something people were making. The song did not have a chorus. It was just 28 bars of rap, but it felt like there was a chorus in there because of how I rapped. I am rebellious with the music I make, and I wanted to make music I enjoyed myself, which birthed “Princess” and ‘Sexy Highlife.’

 

Did the sampling or work you did on “Cigarette” and “Otoolege” have any added influence on your decision to pursue this new direction? 

The two of them did shape my journey to ‘Sexy Highlife.’ I remember the first week “Otoolege” dropped, I kept seeing crazy comments about the song, with people bashing me. Then “Cigarette” was a bit different, but they taught me not to stop, especially with “Otoolege.” It gave me the boost to keep experimenting. People may not like it, but they will eventually catch on.

This is the second project you are doing with Rain Labs, what makes this partnership different from any  you have had over the course of your career?

There have been different people who have approached, but because I have had history with them with ‘Lava Feels,’ they are good with what they do. They do so well with artists who are pushing boundaries. Trebla pushed me to make the project because he had so much belief in the vision, especially when he heard “Princess.”

‘Sexy Highlife’ is a celebration of Highlife, why did you settle on highlife and not some other genre?

Ghanaian music has something special, and we track that all the way to Palmwine, Highlife itself. I feel we should champion Highlife, and even when we experiment, we need to tie it back to our Highlife roots. Even with the Kompa beat, I added a Ghanaian feel. I feel Highlife is a passport for me because when I go out there, they can trace my sound back to Ghana through Highlife. Juls, Guilty Beatz, DJ Breezy, and R2bees are some of the people who are pushing the sound as much as I am now.

“Montecarlo” and “Exopa” are different from the other records on the project. How do you tie those two into the overall concept of Sexy Highlife?

The two are meant to be like a bridge into the project. It is why there is an interlude before you get into the project proper. “Montecarlo” and “Exopa” start the project so you can settle into how sexy I intended the project to feel, and to also appreciate where I am coming from sonically.

 

​Odunsi and Bosom are long-time collaborators of yours, and then you have Bisa. What influenced your decision to settle on these three for this project?

I have never been someone who goes for clout. The people I featured are very original and pioneers of movements. Odunsi, for one, is a champion of Alté music and someone whose art I appreciate a lot. Bisa Kdei is someone I am a huge fan of and have always wanted to make a song with. He is one of the people who have been pushing Highlife from his songwriting to production, and then there is Bosom P-Yung, a great artist I felt more people needed to know. Working with these guys meant more to me than what I was making.

You have always tied imagery and lifestyle to your music. How important is the intersection of these three to you as a creative?

I am sorry, but I judge a book by its cover. I have a theory that, as an artist, you need to have an image that matches the sound. When I had ‘Darryl,’ I had my cowboy look for some time. Unfortunately, ‘Lava Feels’ was during COVID, so there wasn’t much to show. With ‘Sexy Highlife,’ there is a look that goes with it. To me, it is cultural that you get the intersection. I play by culture with music, fashion, and art. Culture outlives charts, and when you push the culture, it lasts longer.

Does the reception of the project validate the vision you had going into the creation of this project?

I have had countless messages about the project. One of the messages was about how the person appreciates how I play on nostalgia and how very Ghanaian the album feels. You do not know who is watching, listening, or being inspired by what you do. Where I am right now as a creative, I am just creating what I enjoy and how I feel, and some people have got the essence of what I created, and I appreciate that.

We Are In The Thick Of A Nigerian Electronic Music Revolution

Posted on by Clarence MacEbong

Rhythm and dance are fundamentally embedded in Nigeria’s sociocultural framework. Long before Afrobeats started to have an impact around the world, the people who cultivated the genre always craved a form of music devotion. In fact, it is not far-fetched to say that the political and economic realities of the country have made music and dance an essential form of escape for the populace. For many, music is a religion; a greater force that controls moods, thoughts, and beliefs, while inviting you to submit to its frequency as a means of channeling euphoria or escaping pain.

Indigenous sounds form the core of Nigeria’s dance craze, but the turn of the new decade created the necessity for Afrobeats and its adjacents to coexist with a new type of musical expression in these parts: enter House and Electronic Dance Music. Of course, House and EDM are world staples, however the use of “new” in this context is very deliberate. 

On a Nairaland forum dated August 2008, a conversation about the presence of House and  EDM in Nigeria’s entertainment space was opened and gathered over 7,000 views, but the responses showed clearly that there was limited presence of these in our soundscape. Fast forward 18 years to 2026, House and EDM have morphed from being a counterculture into a community that is quickly growing to obtain its own share of mainstream Nigerian entertainment.

As a result, music devotion in the country has taken a new dimension. In Lagos—the country’s cultural epicenter—the youth have traded the churches for raves, shedding all their inhibitions at an altar in the form of a DJ booth. Taking a train to neighboring states for their favorite EDM events only adds to the thrill of participating in this new religion. But, when we look through the archives, one begins to feel a lot of this would not be possible if Niniola didn’t release “Maradona” in 2017. 

 

It is not a coincidence that Electronic music duo Maze x Mxtreme moved back to Lagos to spread the gospel of House and Electro Dance Music in that same year. The simultaneous actions of a mainstream push, coupled with Amapiano’s emergence into Nigeria’s music mainstream and underground education about these sounds have merged into the sonic revolution we are currently witnessing.

A Quest For New Rhythm

So what is Dance music? It’s music that simply makes you want to dance, with different perspectives tailored to regional sounds around the world. Electronic Dance Music (EDM) is an overarching term for music created with digital drum machines and synthesizers that set the atmosphere at clubs, raves and festivals. House, a sub-genre under EDM, is characterized by its typical four-on-the-floor beat pattern and intense basslines which usually operates at 115-130 BPM. 

Nigerian DJs and musicians hardly paid attention to EDM due to the unfamiliarity of their audience to this sound and instruments. Not until Niniola broke out with “Ibadi” in 2014 by presenting a unique style that blended African percussive instruments like the ekwe and balafon (wooden xylophone) into House production arrangements. Her impact with House-leaning records was evident but ultimately limited within the mainstream, even after “Maradona” stormed the continent with its infectious rhythm. However, her impact was necessary as it created the space for Amapiano and other Afro-EDM variants to land in these parts. 

It is staggering to witness the 180 degree turnaround from that Nairaland conversation in 2008 to now. Since 2022, user-generated EDM playlists on Spotify have grown over 350%, aligning with the rise of the genre’s streams of over 400% on the platform. The offline and online realities of the genre’s success align and are telling, but what is most important to consider is the way that the people have made this genre their own. There is an unspoken rule that Western genres have to merge with Afro sounds to stand a chance in Nigeria’s largely lopsided market, and it becomes even more viable when the sound aligns with a culture that can sell tickets. Now, raves are now popping up across the city.

 

The Big Players

The EDM community in Nigeria is built around different variants of the sound. As a result, a myriad of collectives have sprung up to curate their own unique experiences for those chasing the thrill of music devotion. Sweat It Out, which started out as a private gathering in 2019, created one of the first safe spaces for the enjoyment of electronic music in Lagos, mostly championed by marginalized demographics who wanted to dress and dance as they liked. 2019 also saw the start of Element House, with a series of events that played an equally significant role in blazing the trail for EDM to become a Nigerian nightlife staple. 

Founded by ANIKO in 2023, Group Therapy has rapidly become a household name in Lagos’ nightlife scene as it set out on a mission to eliminate pretentious, capitalist-led segregation culture to democratize the dance floor. The event, which usually designs its sound policy around Afrotech, Afrohouse, Deep House, 3-step and GQOM, has housed some of the most vibrant local and international DJs and sound selectors. With shows across Lagos, London, Nairobi and more, DJs like YOSA, Weareallchemicals, YANFSSSS, SoundsOfAce, Abiodun, Earthsurfing, Doghouse TV along with South African stars Dlala Thukzin, QUE DJ and Heavy-K, amongst many others, have lit up multiple venues with dexterous skill.

On another note, Monochroma’s rise, spearheaded by Blak Dave can not be understated. Alongside his ambition to build an enchanting Electronic music experience, the Lagos-based DJ has put out music of his own, with his latest project ‘The Third Step’ being an ode to the 3-step craze that has made its way from its South African origins down to Nigeria. He, like other Nigerian EDM DJs, are going beyond mixes to create their own sonic experiences and bodies of work. 

In 2025, Jamie Black put out his ‘FLOW’ EP which featured “OGBA,” an underground slapper built around 3-step fundamentals that has become a popular staple at many raves. His work extends into Afrohouse and Afrotech, releasing the ‘Mafia Busine$$’ EP in April 2026 as part of the Naija House Mafia collective with CALIX and Sigag Lauren. Ifeme C.S, who recently began his own event series called TAMBA, has put out a host of Afrohouse projects starting with ‘Soil’ in 2021 after the COVID-19 pandemic. His profile as one of Lagos’ forerunning EDM DJs has only blossomed since, releasing a series of projects that include ‘Victim of Desire’ (2022), ‘Guest List’ (2025) and his latest ‘Who is Ifeme?’ in April 2026.

 

DJ collective The Hause leans into Amapiano, House and GQOM, gradually building a sturdy discography that includes ‘Hause Arrest’ (2022) and ‘Noisey Neighbors (Vol. 1)’ (2023), with the latter housing “SUYA,” one of their biggest records till date. Equally importantly, Tobi Peter brings a unique twist with his style of production, lacing his Amapiano and House records with gospel lyrics carried by airy vocals.

Much of the work of curating an identifiably Nigerian Electronic sound has been led by curators and enthusiasts employing experimentalist tactics. “What has changed isn’t just the music, but how it’s being curated,” curator and media personality, Melody Hassan, says. “Today, much of that growth is driven by communities rather than traditional gatekeepers. Nigerian DJs and producers have also helped localise EDM by blending it with Afrobeats, Amapiano, Afro House, and indigenous rhythms, making it feel like an evolving part of Nigeria’s musical identity.”

The modification of Street-Pop into the controlled chaos that is Mara has opened up a new dimension for the possibilities of EDM in Nigeria. Before the likes of DJ YK Mule, DJ Khalipha and Azzi on the Beat stormed TrenchTok with their irresistible legwork-inducing scatterbrained approach to EDM, Terry G had already laid down a blueprint for its essence with the release of “Free Madness” in 2008. This ultra-energetic sub-genre leans on bespoke EDM elements while maintaining the raw authenticity and guttural expression of the Nigerian inner cities. DJ Khalipha molded the sound and coined the name “Street House” for it, taking a global approach to a sound born from local innovation. 

An already extensive catalogue of Mara music exists with DJ Khalipha looking to evoke emotional reactions with his beats, releasing records like “Emotional Mara Beat,” “Mara Feelings 2,” “137 Spiritual Mara,” “Eclipse Street House,”and his widely popular “Mara Pass Mara Beat” which is his most streamed record on Spotify.

 

Azzi On The Beat packs a full arsenal of infectious Mara records in his discography. “Mr Barry” has turned into something of a rave classic in recent months, while he has “Emini DC” with DJ Kracker, “Slow Mara Guitar,” “Ancestral Beats” and the ‘Exapt of Azzi’ EP released in January 2026 have bolstered his reputation. In a show of the genre’s rising appeal, mainstream artists have also joined the Mara craze, ranging from Cruel Santino’s tag-team performance with S-Smart for “FTR” to Seyi Vibez’s “Shaolin” and Rema’s “OZEBA.”

A Sound and a Movement

EDM’s emergence within Nigeria’s entertainment ecosystem has certainly come with important ripple effects that cut across social and economic aspects. For one, it has expanded the Nigerian musical palette in good measure, offering more creative outlets for producers, artists and DJs to reinvent the wheel and add more gusto to a soundscape that frequently gets bored of itself. More hit records are reimagined with EDM remixes, like Omah Lay’s “Moving” receiving an immersive makeover by Francis Mercier and Nitefreak’s reconstruction of “Premier Gaou.”

 

Economically, raves have provided welcome alternatives to the capital intensive club scene, especially in an economy where disposable income is limited amongst the country’s young demographic. At a time where Afropop is undergoing evolutionary pains with creating sustainable live experiences, raves have lowered the bar for cost but increased the standard of the sonic experience, ensuring communities can keep up attendance through different editions. 

Hassan warns that more work is needed to keep the momentum going, arguing that the intentional curation that has defined the scene so far needs to be stepped up. “Sustainable growth requires intentional curation,” she offers. We need to keep investing in cultural tastemakers, DJs, festival organisers, playlist curators, music journalists, and media platforms, who connect artists with audiences and build communities around the genre. By continuing to tell these stories, champion the people shaping the scene, and create spaces for the music to thrive.”

Taking a view of the state of the landscape, EDM looks like it has evolved from a trend into a legitimate staple of the Nigerian sonic palette. Its presence continues to excite new and existing believers of its ministry, while providing a community that recenters music as the most important piece of the puzzle and freedom as a priority of the experience. 

ENGAGE STUDIOS Launches Studio Cypher “One Take” 

Posted on by The Native

ENGAGE STUDIOS has announced the launch of One Take, a high-energy studio cypher show created to spotlight emerging and established artists through raw, uninterrupted music performances. 

Designed as a music-first visual and sonic experience, One Take brings artists into ENGAGE’s creative studio space to perform in a single continuous take. Each episode features one or more artists performing back-to-back, delivering their original tracks with no edits, no cuts, and no interruptions. The result is an immersive experience that captures the authenticity, confidence, and energy of Nigeria’s evolving music scene. 

At its core, One Take is built around the power of artistic expression. The format strips away overproduction and places the focus directly on the artist, their sound, their presence, and the natural chemistry created inside the studio. With distinctive purple or orange lighting shaping the visual identity of the show, One Take is positioned to become a recognizable music content franchise with a strong visual and cultural signature. 

The show also serves as a discovery platform, giving emerging artists an opportunity to be on the same platform alongside more established acts while introducing audiences to fresh voices across Nigeria’s music landscape. For ENGAGE   STUDIOS, One Take further reinforces its role as a creative hub committed to supporting talent, building community, and creating content that resonates both locally and internationally.

“One Take was created to capture artists in their purest performance state,” said Ayomi Omotoso, Creative Director. ENGAGE. “We set out to create a platform where talent, energy, and creativity are the main focus. It is about giving artists a space to show what they can do while giving audiences a real, uninterrupted experience.” 

Beyond the full studio episodes, One Take will also extend across digital and social platforms through short-form clips, standout performance moments, collaborative episodes, and potential seasonal competitions or audience-voted editions. These extensions are designed to drive fan engagement, increase artist visibility, and create highly shareable music moments for online audiences. 

With its unique one-take format, strong visual identity, and focus on authentic performance, One Take is set to become a compelling platform for music discovery, artist storytelling, and cultural amplification. 

Season one features amazing performances by Emo Grae, Fatboy E, May D, Ewaä , Garvicii, Lodu, Troms, Toye, Ria Sean and Ashidapo.  

Essentials: Tekno Is Interrogating The Many Layers of Romance on ‘Where Did Love Go?’

Posted on by Frederick Adjavon

Few Afropop artists have returned to romance as consistently as Tekno. It has remained one of the defining threads of his music, shaping many of the records that built his career. ‘Where Did Love Go?’ continues that tradition, offering an eight-track exploration of love in its different forms.

The project arrives nearly six years after ‘Old Romance,‘ his debut album. In the time between both releases, Tekno has remained one of Afrobeats’ most dependable hitmakers. With a catalogue that stretches back more than a decade, he has little left to establish. Instead of chasing trends or attempting a dramatic reinvention, ‘Where Did Love Go?’  leans into the qualities that have defined his music for years: memorable melodies, understated songwriting and an ear for records that connect.

The album arrives nearly six years after Old Romance, his debut studio album. Since then, Tekno has continued to release singles while maintaining a catalogue that stretches back more than a decade. Rather than signalling a shift in direction, Where Did Love Go? builds on themes and songwriting approaches that have appeared throughout his work. Introduced by the singles “Bamboo,” “Press Button,” and “Matter,” the project focuses on relationships after the excitement of attraction begins to settle. Across eight songs, Tekno moves between longing, distance, reassurance and commitment, approaching each from a different perspective.

 

“Bamboo” opens the album with a measured pace, establishing the atmosphere that carries through the rest of the project. The song introduces many of the emotional ideas that reappear across the tracklist without rushing toward a conclusion. That mood changes on “Press Button”, produced by Yung Willis. Dancehall rhythms become more prominent while the melodic approach established by the opener remains in place, expanding the album’s sonic range without moving away from its central theme.

Tekno also contributes as a producer, handling four songs alongside Yung Willis, D’Meek, Justopac and Tino. While multiple producers appear across the project, the production remains connected through recurring Afrobeats, Afropop and dancehall influences. One of the album’s strongest moments comes with “Adaeze,” produced by D’Meek and Justopac. The song captures the confusion of watching someone grow distant without understanding why. Rather than forcing easy answers, Tekno allows the uncertainty to remain, making the emotions feel more relatable.

 

On “Matter,” the conversation shifts towards partnership. Built around the idea that another person’s burdens become your own when love is genuine, the song favours sincerity over grand gestures. Its message is uncomplicated, yet effective, reinforcing one of the album’s recurring themes.

Elsewhere, “Port Au Prins” imagines love as something worth crossing borders for, while “Wedding Day” moves beyond pursuit to embrace lasting commitment. Positioned toward the end of the album, it feels like a natural progression after the emotional questions explored earlier in the record. “Gently” offers one of the album’s lightest moments, bringing an easy confidence before the closing track, “Avelay.” What gives ‘Where Did Love Go?’  its strength is its consistency, rRather than jumping between unrelated ideas, every song contributes to a broader conversation about relationships and the different ways people experience love. 

Rather than introducing a new artistic direction, ‘Where Did Love Go?’ continues themes that have remained present across Tekno’s career. Through eight songs, the album revisits familiar emotional territory while approaching love through multiple perspectives instead of a single conclusion.

Listen to ‘Where Did Love Go?’ here. 

Asake’s ‘One Night Only’ Concert In London Was A Masterclass In Gratitude

Posted on by Ezra Olaoya

Rich with affirmations, manifestation and gratitude, there is a prophetic quality that permeates Asake’s music. His 2022 breakout single “Omo Ope”-which can be loosely translated as someone who is highly favoured-was a jubilant declaration of living in expectation of the blessings the path to inevitable success. The faith with which he made this declaration was swiftly rewarded with an Olamide feature that preceded a generational run of snippets, singles and a classic debut album which marked 2022 as a year that will always be synonymous with Mr Money.

The following four years have been filled with that foretold success. There have been sold out shows in iconic venues, from London’s O2 Arena in 2023 to New York’s Madison Square Garden in 2024. There has been more iconic music created across three albums, a joint EP with Wizkid as well as a deck of memorable feature verses. There has also been, as he will not neglect to let his fans know, a lot more money made. 

His Red Bull Symphonic performance in Brooklyn’s King Theatre last year felt like a crowning moment for an artist who has steadily built a discography that evolves thematically and sonically in step with his life experiences while maintaining an unmistakable essence. These expressions which see Asake seamlessly blend influences spanning from Fuji to Electronic Dance Music to Séga music, translate impactfully in his live performances. Augmented by live instrumentation, solid vocals and an assured swagger on stage, Asake has become one of Nigeria’s most formidable live performers, crowning his catalogue with memorable moments on stage. 

 

His milestone performance in New York last year is indicative of a pattern which has seen Afrobeats artists bring their music to stages which have not traditionally welcomed artists of the genre. Notable examples include Adekunle Gold at Royal Festival Hall in November 2025, as well as Fireboy DML and Cavemen at Royal Albert Hall in April and August 2025, respectively. Though these venues do not affirm or legitimise the value and skill of Afrobeats artists, these performances demonstrate how the quality and commercial viability some of these artists bring has become undeniable, leading them to be embraced in these music cathedrals. 

Whether or not performing in these revered halls ‘elevates’ the art, these performances demonstrate that the genre’s storytelling and musicality can consistently produce memorable spectacles, even in these contexts where they may once been shunned. Despite the success of the Red Bull Symphonic performance which had  teasers of the forthcoming project,  2026’s ‘M$NEY’ arrived with relatively little fanfare per Asake’s standards. That said, on Sunday 21st June, the excitement in the air was palpable. In London’s Theatre Royal Drury Lane, a mixture of top listeners, press and media personalities donned their finest black tie to witness Mr Money grace the stage for a “One Night Only” performance in partnership with Spotify.

 

As the curtains of the 2,300 capacity theatre rose to cheers of expectant fans, a host of backing vocalists and instrumentalists poised themselves on the stage according to their role. The man of the moment emerged decked in a leather two piece, complete with a subtle embellishment of diamonds on the collar of his jacket, a signifier that as his moniker suggests, he indeed is Mr Money.

Walking out spitting lyrics to an unreleased track which aligned with the thematic and sonic universe of ‘M$NEY,’ Asake’s vocals cut through cleanly from the start to the end of his performance. Fan favourites could be easily detected by the eruption of cheers in response to the opening chords and lyrics, with tracks like  “Wa,” “Why Love,” and “Forgiveness” met by roars and impassioned renditions by members of the audience members. The theatre seating, usually synonymous with ‘polite’ reservation became a dancefloor as Asake shared tales of gratitude and opulence. 

 

The onstage ensemble including choir, band and backing vocals shared this energy with animated choreography, bringing life to the affirmations and reflections being shared. Meanwhile, Asake’s stage presence embodied ‘itutu’-a calm, assured confidence that was evident in the dance breaks and the way he sauntered around the stage-a marked contrast with the high octane performances of 2022. 

As the night progressed, the two piece leather set became a waistcoat and trousers before it became a dazzling gold top–gradual outfit changes which echoed a metamorphosis of sorts. Importantly, the performance of the tracks contextualized his latest album, exploring ideas of love, affirmation and gratitude alongside the accompaniment of a live band communicating feelings in a way that doesn’t always translate digitally. Asake’s performance was indicative of someone who is aware of how far they’ve come and can only give thanks for the journey. 

2022’s ‘Mr Money With The Vibe’ opened with Asake’s earnest prayers on “Dull,” requesting that he shouldn’t stumble as he ascended the highest summit. Fast forward to 2026 in London, as Asake stood in the centre of the stage with his arms open while the crowd sang the lyrics to ”Worship,” it felt like an expression of gratitude for answered prayers. While sometimes expressed through flaunting of wealth and demonstration of excesses, there is a clear sense that Asake attributes his success to the grace of God. 

2026’s ‘M$NEY’ can perhaps be read as an offering of thanksgiving as Asake basks in the manifestation of the blessings he prophesied when he first burst onto the scene. The pursuit of success and wealth can often seem insatiable, each milestone unlocking a deeper desire for the next. Through this project and his live performance, Asake exemplifies the simplicity and beauty of gratitude.

Interview: EKENE Wants You To Sit With Your Emotions

Posted on by The Native

EKENE knows a thing or two about the weight of expectation and escapism as a salve for heavy burdens. A sense of palpable tension has been a near-constant in his music since he started sharing his songs with the world on SoundCloud. He made a definitive step forward in his career earlier in 2026 with the June release of “Red Benz,” a sweeping imagination of a furtive romance whose routines are typically confined to the intimacy of a car. It’s less the actions being described by EKENE, and more about how his voice cloaks those routines in a sense of trepidation. 

That pervading sense of doom is an intrinsic part of his debut EP, ‘Little Us.’ Across seven intense vignettes of his life, EKENE unpacks his familial trauma, a fixation with morbidity, and, most of all, the healing required to fashion a path forward. It’s a gift he hopes that listeners pick up on when they press play. “I really  hope it allows people to connect with a part of themselves that they might have ignored for a while or allow them to sit in feelings that they might have put back or pushed back for the sake of just moving forward,” he told Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio about the project. “That’s really what I want.”

This conversation has been edited for clarity. 

What are you proud of in terms of your music?

The fact that I stuck to this, the fact that I’m currently 24 and I’m still doing this. I’m still spreading the message through music. I’m still creating the music that I feel like I’ve always wanted to create. Growing up, my closest musical outlet was the church, it was the choir. I think having that expression or having access to that kind of musical expression early on definitely set the pace for my love for music and for my expression through music moving forward. I think it primed me to be ready for the exposure I got when I grew up and was able to be exposed to more music. 

When did you realise the impact of your music?

In 2019, I posted a song I wrote and the reactions I got were amazing. That was the first time I got that kind of validation for anything I’ve created musically. It wasn’t just the validation but the fact that people would message me and tell me that they relate so heavily to what I just said or this reminds them of this time or this is how they felt at this specific time. I was like,  “Okay wow, music I’m making actually has a connection to people outside of just the fact of enjoying the process.”

What was the thinking going into making ‘LITTLE US?’

It was healing in many ways. I feel like I got to talk to a part of myself that I kind of ignored. I’ve listened back to the EP even more recently and I’ve realized that it almost feels like an apology almost because there was a point in my music making process or just in my love for music where I ignored the idea of taking this as an actual career path or actually sticking to it. I feel like, in ignoring that, I ignored that part of myself. So, the process of making the EP is like checking in and telling my younger self that, “Okay,  that’s never going to happen again one,” and two I’m going to stick to this and three when you look back at this you’re going to see me and you’re going to see all the dreams that we had when we were younger were actually possible and I’m actually going to make it happen. So it was almost like a healing apology kind of.

Do you approach music like a diary?

It’s a mix, and the idea of a diary is so true to what this EP is. I’ve come to realize that music really in a way is my diary. I feel like it’s the only way I could say it’s such a beautiful thing right? Because you can say and be as vulnerable as you want to be but people will read your lyrics and hear your lines and all they will see is themselves and not you. So, it’s like an open personal diary in a way. I think it really helped with touching those vulnerable parts and not having to worry about shame or being scared about putting the songs out because I know people are only going to see themselves when they hear this music. It’s not just me. 

How did you make “Lullaby?”

What inspired that was a very intimate conversation with the producer, Tudor. Shoutout Tudor at the time. We had a very intimate conversation about our grandparents and one of our grandparents had suffered from Alzheimer’s at the time. It felt only natural that by the time we wanted to start the studio session that we would make a song true to the conversation we had just had. I tried to navigate that feeling throughout the song. The feeling of losing yourself in someone that should know you for who you are; someone who should love you then looking at you and wondering who you are. The pain of loss but not losing the person in a way. It’s almost more painful because this person is right here but they also aren’t. I tried to navigate that feeling throughout the song, that’s the emotional core of the song.

How did you ideate “Red Benz?”

It’s so funny because the song isn’t about a red Benz. I think the Benz is just how expensive the feeling is. I was walking through my university at the time and I saw a car, right? And I imagined myself having a car in uni at the time. How I’d pick up my hypothetical love interest from class, we’d skip classes, we’d take long night drives on the uni roads, we’d eat takeout in the car, and we’d listen to music in the car. I thought that telling a song through the story of this car would be a nice way to go about a love song. 

How “Relations” came about?

We had a songwriting camp in Ghana at the time. We missed the session, so we had to have the session at home in our Airbnb. It was me, Breye, and Duke. So, we were talking and we kind of settled on the idea of a relationship but one where things aren’t working right and it feels like you’ve put in too much to just let this go. So, you’re stuck in this space where it’s like, “Should we continue? Should we work on this? Or should we just allow things to be and just go our separate ways?” So, I wrote the song, we wrote the song about that specific moment in time, that specific moment in a relationship. 

What do you feel about staying in relationships where things are not working out?

This is me for the most part. There’s this thing about sunk cost, and I feel like it applies too much to relationships too. It’s like even though the signs are telling you that this thing isn’t working, but because of the amount of energy and effort you’ve put into this, you just can’t bring yourself to say, “Oh, I’m going to let this go.” Something in you just wants to keep putting more into it. It’s a difficult decision to make and I really try to represent that in the song. It’s my baby. I’m so proud. It’s like I finally addressed something. It’s like having, I wouldn’t say beef per se, but having an elephant in the room that I finally addressed. It feels almost like closure. I’m so happy and I’m so proud of the project.

What would you say to your fans and long term listeners?

To my fans, to everyone who has been supporting me throughout, I really hope the EP makes you guys proud. I know it’s been almost three years now and I know I’ve been saying it’s coming, but I’m happy it’s finally here. I really hope it makes you proud. To everyone who’s going to listen to it, I really want you to sit in it. Really sit with the emotions and with the story.  I really  hope it allows people to connect with a part of themselves that they might have ignored for a while or allow them to sit in feelings that they might have put back or pushed back for the sake of just moving forward. That’s really what I want.

Dammy Twitch Was Always Fated To Make ‘Call of My Life’

Posted on by Shalom Tewobola

At the IMAX Filmhouse in Lekki, an entire cinema room groaned in unison, for what must have been the hundredth time, as audiences sat in the dark, watching Oluwadamilola Owolabi Apampa’s latest film, ‘Call of My Life.’ For nearly the whole film, its two protagonists, Soluchi (played by Uzoamaka Power) and Eli (played by Andrew Bunting), had been robbing the audience of a kiss, pulling back at every moment it seemed within reach. With the story nearing its end, the crowd was ready to tear through the screen and drag the two together themselves. When the kiss finally came, the room erupted into cheers. Their love, at last, was sealed.

Directed by Apampa, or as most know him, Dammy Twitch, ‘Call of My Life‘ is staking its claim as a turning point for romcoms in Nigerian cinema. Blessing Uzzi produced it under Bluhouse Studios. It’s a rom-com, a love triangle, and at the center of it is Soluchi, a bright-eyed young woman who wears her heart on her sleeves. 

The film opened on May 15 with over ₦70 million garnered in its opening weekend, a feat for a non-December release. By the third week, that figure had climbed to ₦397 million. The accolades followed: highest-grossing romance film of 2026, second highest-grossing Nollywood film of the year, and the fastest Nollywood title to cross the ₦300 million mark in 2026. The numbers speak for themselves, but the joyful audiences and their positive word-of-mouth feedback are louder.

 

On a rainy Friday late in May, I set up shop in the office of the thirty-year-old photographer, music videographer, and filmmaker, tucked away somewhere in Lekki. The room is warm, a contrast to the cold drizzle tapping against the windows outside. After a short wait, Apampa walks in wearing a boyish grin, bouncing with the glee of a man who just put a directorial feature into the world. He’s in baggy pants, a ‘COML‘-branded T-shirt, and a face cap. We start in a warmly-lit sitting room, just across from a proper studio photography set, then move upstairs to an office with a ceiling fan turning lazily overhead. The whole space was designed to feel familiar, Apampa tells me, settling into the couch with his head on a pillow, as though the room were built around him.

Growing up in Oluyole, Ibadan in the early 2000s, Apampa was drawn to the arts early. He spent afternoons playing games at a neighbor’s house and buying CDs of series like ‘Smallville,’ ‘Merlin,’ and Legend of the Seeker.’ “We grew up watching ‘Super Story,’ ‘Fuji House of Commotion,’ ‘Papa Ajasco,’ and the likes,” he says. He lived with his mother and two sisters, and the bond between them was close.

At Redeemer’s University, where he studied economics, academics were never really the priority. He spent his first three years taking pictures of his friends and working under someone in the industry doing behind-the-scenes coverage. He would take a bus from Redeemer’s to Berger, then on to Ikoyi, and he did it often enough for the route to become muscle memory. He photographed everything that caught his attention: grass, makeup artists, and parked cars. He then posted the images to a blog alongside philosophical musings about what he’d seen. 

One of his blog posts, featuring vintage cars, grandfather clocks, and analog cameras, reads: “A keyhole is more than what it appears to be. It appears to be this oddly shaped metal on a door that is responsible for opening and locking a door. Little do you know that this is the link between two rooms. Two worlds in this case.”

Little did Apampa know he was foreshadowing his future. The boy with the blog and the bus route would eventually live between two worlds. He would become a music video director, his lens reaching far beyond Ikoyi. His videos would carry him across countries and into rooms with icons like Davido and Angélique Kidjo, and onto sets for brands like Google and Coca-Cola. In time, the music videos would eclipse his photography. At age 26, Forbes would place him on its 2022 30 Under 30 list as one of Africa’s most recognizable young creatives. He would become a celebrity and, in 2026, release a debut feature film that made history. But all this was still on the other side of the keyhole.

 

After graduating in 2016 with a second-class upper degree, the work began. Armed with a car his mother had gifted him, a camera from his uncle, an economics degree, and all the behind-the-scenes experience he’d been collecting, he stepped into the world. His work led him to Ichaba, an artiste based in Ibadan who happened to be Director Q’s brother. “At the time, I already knew how to edit, so I was valuable as an editor, someone who’d be assisting Director Q on set, and someone who had a car,” Apampa says with a grin. “Before he went to any set, he had to wait for me.”

Under Director Q’s guidance, he learned the basics of music videos, laying a foundation he didn’t yet know he’d build an entire career on. His first music video was unofficial. It was Yonda’s “Las Vegas,” featuring Burna Boy. “I happened to be at the right place at the right time,” he says. “Yonda just made the song with Burna Boy and they wanted to shoot the video—next thing, I’m in Burna Boy’s house and we’re shooting at his backyard.” All those years assisting Director Q, started to pay off there. The videos that followed, “Aje” by DMW and “Wonder Woman” by Davido, confirmed what was becoming obvious: he was here to stay. 

One of the artists he would work with most extensively was Davido. In 2018, they met at the Lagos Marathon. Davido needed a music video director, and Mayorkun’s manager connected him to Davido’s camp. That introduction earned him his first paycheck in foreign currency. From there, they traveled to make videos in Ethiopia, then another country, then another.

There are elements that make a Dammy Twitch video stand out: cinematic angles that belong in a feature film, lighting that sculpts rather than fills, sunlight pooling across faces, shadows stretching into stories. In three minutes or less, a song becomes a world you could walk into. His video for Tekno’s “Wayo”—produced under his company Polar Films Production and featuring Uzoamaka Power—is a case in point: every shot carries weight, every texture earns its place on screen.

When I liken his visual sensibility to that of an international music video director, he shifts in his seat, and lets out a laugh. “The work I’ve done inspires me,” he admits. “My journey. Ibadan inspires me. I think inspiration comes from what you consume, and how much you consume them, but traveling widely definitely helped.”

 

Our conversation is interrupted by a phone call from Anita Ashiru, one of Nigeria’s leading production designers. She cracks a joke about some giveaways Apampa did in Ibadan for ‘Call of My Life,’ and he fires one back without missing a beat. The rhythm between them is well-worn, you can tell they’ve been doing this for years. It’s the same story with nearly everyone in his orbit, including Blessing Uzzi. They are people who grew alongside him, and the trust between them is the type that forms over time and too many late nights to count.

“I always knew I’d go into filmmaking, even before I started shooting music videos. I just didn’t think it was possible back then,” he says. “When I finally became ready, I told my producer that I wanted to do a short film first.” That short film came in 2023: ‘I Hate It Here,’ an unreleased work about the impact of domestic violence on a child. It was his first step into film, small in scale, but enough to teach him what a feature would demand. From there, ‘Call of My Life’ was born. 

When Apampa talks about the film’s reception, his face opens up: all smiles and easy laughter. The visual elements that define ‘Call of My Life’ are the same ones that have been in his work all along. Apampa constructs a Lagos of dreams and beauty through the eyes of his protagonist. Soluchi wears outfits that speak before she does: colored pantyhoses, stripes, bold prints that shift with her moods. She indulges in popsicles and swings in a playground with her lover. There’s a childlike openness to her, something most Nigerians have had sucked out of them, and it’s what Apampa tries, and succeeds, in capturing on screen.

When I ask about his influences, he mentions a few names but it’s Ozu, the mid-century Japanese director known for framing ordinary life with patience, that he keeps circling back to. “People online have been saying they want to live in COML‘s world,” he pauses. “I shot ‘Call of My Life’ like Yasujirō Ozu.”

But building a world people want to live in is only half the work. You have to invite them in, too. He liked romance. He thought the people who didn’t were free to look away, that it was time to make space for those who do. That belief became the spine of the team’s entire campaign, borrowing a page from Hollywood rom-coms where the characters’ love story bleeds past the screen and into the real world. 

The team ran a contest offering two winners the chance to watch ‘Call Of My Life’ together at the cinema. They brought in influencers, media platforms, and music artists for watch parties. They featured in panels and fun YouTube shows. It was cheesy; they understood that people didn’t just want to watch love stories. They want to feel like they’re inside one.

Nollywood and Nigerian music have always been in conversation, but lately the exchange feels more deliberate. Artists and personalities have crossed into film before: Burna Boy produced ‘Three Cold Dishes,’ Tiwa Savage starred in ‘Water and Garri,’ and Ladipoe was a character in ‘Christmas in Lagos,’ among others. For ‘Call of My Life,’ Cobhams Asuquo handled the music score with a tenderness that invites and heightens the romantic tension across the film’s one-hour-and-fifty-four-minute runtime. 

 

Speaking about his approach, he described drawing from classic Hollywood orchestral arrangements alongside his roots in traditional African highlife and Fela-inspired Afrobeat, wanting “these two sonic elements to coexist naturally in the same world, rather than sounding like an experiment, because that duality defines the modern Nigerian romantic experience.” Asuquo credits his influences to Hallmark films and ‘When Harry Met Sally‘ to the specific textures of Nigerian romance: the bustle of Lagos streets, the quieter pull of village settings, and as a blind artist, he was equally driven by the need to truly hear the story, ensuring the score sat holistically within the film rather than ever calling attention to itself.

For all the noise surrounding his name, Apampa does not want to be a celebrity. He prefers to stay behind the camera and enjoys being in countries where no one recognizes him, understanding that visibility comes with the territory, but it’s not what drives him. “My celebrity status didn’t come at any particular time,” he says. “Music videos just take you to places you won’t typically go.” Most days, he’d rather be home. Most days, he isn’t even aware of how many people know his face.

In his free time, he watches music videos, dives into YouTube rabbit holes, and revisits films by his favorite directors. He is single, but he wants to get married someday. “I love love, my favorite romcoms are ‘You’ve Got Mail’ and ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding.’” He pauses, then grins. “On the internet, people have been arguing about whether they’re Kalu or Elu. I’m Elu.”

When I ask him what he’d choose between photography, music videos, and filmmaking, he says all of it. When I press him—gun to his head—he says photography. Then he catches himself, and changes his answer to music videos. He tells me that ‘Call of My Life’ is only the beginning and he’s intent on making genres that are unpopular in Nollywood with the certainty of someone who knows the next thing is already forming, even if he can’t name it yet. 

When I ask him what success for Call of My Life looks like, he doesn’t reach for a number alone.”If we make one billion in the cinema, we would have succeeded,” he says. Then he leans forward. “But on a deeper level, I want people to be able to go to the cinema. To get that communal cinema experience and joy—watching it with your family and friends. If ‘COML’ does more than ten or twenty thousand people in the cinema, then I think we have succeeded.”