50 Years of Hip-Hop: A Current Look At Nairobi’s Thriving Rap Scene
the golden era of Hip-Hop
Hip-hop culture is intricately tied with youth identity in Kenya, made even more evident by the progressive rap scene in the country’s capital city, Nairobi. Associated with creative freedom and exuberance in the three-plus decade since its emergence, rap music has evolved into a dominant art-form and hip-hop culture is a way of life with distinct quirks morphing alongside different generations.
As with most early rap scenes across Africa, the beginnings were humble but the ambitions are no less inspiring. In 1991, artist-turned-actor Jimmy Gathu released “Look, Think Stay Alive,” and the pairing of his laid-back flow with hard-hitting drums helped make it an impactful single. The song, which publicised safe driving, received massive airplay and caused a shift in a music industry where foreign songs received more attention. At the time, the local mainstream’s focus tilted towards bands and artists whose sounds were heavily built on the fusion of traditional instruments. All this included a lot of singing, which meant rappers did not have a platform. The commercial success of Jimmy Gathu’s single and the rise of rap-centric shows such as Mzizi helped in fostering the rise of Kenyan Hip-hop.
There’s a ton of historical gaps to fill in the 30-plus years since rap music’s mainstream advent, but there’s an overflow of talent and success in the present that suggests that Nairobi and Kenyan rap is enjoying a prolonged golden era. In this moment, and stretching back over the last decade-plus, the most obvious names are Khaligraph Jones and Octopizzo, two relentlessly prolific rap artists that played primary roles in Kenyan rap growing beyond borders—creatively and commercially. In an interview with the Youtube channel Cleaning The Airwaves, Khaligraph rubs his impact in the industry by insisting he was the first Kenyan to jump on a trap beat. While this is an issue that is greatly debated between the Khaligraph and Octopizzo fandom, its result saw the rise of rappers switching from social-political issues and adapting more accessible themes that not only showcase their writing ability with wordplay but also their flexibility in production.
With the success and dynamic artistry of these two superstars—and more forebears—as OGs, new classes of rap freshmen emerge with distinct approaches and identities to their craft. It’s still all Hip-Hop: Shrappers, Drillers, Kilimani babies and more have carved a new niche in the scene. Creating a ubiquitous sound that peels new layers to their artistry, the current classes of younger rap artists have seen new names rise up defying the odds. “Boutross has to be the biggest artist in Nairobi and this was not the case three years ago,” a rap enthusiast tells the NATIVE. Often known as the shrap god, Boutross has stood the test of time as a pioneer of Shrap. Unlike rap, the subgenre took a new approach to its creation. Paying attention to flow rather than hard-knocking lyrics, the genre thrived with witty bars and occasion bragging. New ideas are rarely welcomed in a confined society where rules define your every move and to many Hip-Hop heads were adamant to reject the subgenre teaming it as not “hard enough to be termed as rap.”
In 2016 Musau Mumo, Dope-I-Mean, Jovie Jovv, Boutross, Kay Green, and more affiliates were creating an upbeat breed of rap that resonated more with the current generation. On heavy 808s, bouncy drums, and hi-hat electronic beats, they combined English and Swahili creating slang that saw the birth of Shrap. Its defying moment came with the release of Jovie Jovv’s “Kiasi,” the lean-advocating song that coupled with weed and sex lines saw an attention shift. Unlike the rap songs that were flooding the mainstream industry, “Kiasi,” was playful and one you could trap to. To most Kenyans, this is how they were introduced to the sub-genre. Like a foreshadowing of their greatness, Boutross is a testament to their gospel. One of the biggest artists in Kenya he has built a fandom of shrappers who are loyal to him and he stamped shrap’s authority with “Shrap Over The Rest.”
Like Boutross, Wakadinali also has played a huge role in shaping the rap industry. According to 2022’s Spotify Wrapped, they were one of the top three streamed artists in Kenya. Consisting of Scar, Mad Munga, and Sewer Sydda, the trio has revolutionised the face of Hip Hop in Nairobi. There’s an identity that Wakadinali represents that people are drawn to. For over two decades, they have written Hip Hop on their own terms with each release unveiling greater potential. Whether it’s fusing reggae with hip-hop as seen in “Rong Reggae“ or scintillating on cutthroat cyphers, Wakadinali is incredibly dynamic without losing any of their gritty edge. With over four projects under their belt and still flourishing as solo acts, the trio has a dedicated following among the Nairobi youth.
Their relentless consistency has seen them rise from underground stars to household names. With Hip-Hop inspired percussions, the trio’s precise skills and knowledge of their audience places them on a pedestal. Representing the ordinary Kenyan youth their brevity matches Mashifta’s with the technical skills of Ke rap forefathers, Ukoo Fulani. Three years ago when Nairobi was undergoing a musical renaissance, Wakadinali’s “Morio Anzenza, ” emerged like a fast and furious bolt from the blue. Fusing raw sounds and grimy beats, the single sounded like the past, present, and future of Kenyan rap music all wrapped up at once. Mad Munga’s helter skelter flow and Scar’s lethal lyricism opened up the minds of the youth and the people and become aware of our people, our situation, our community, and our knowledge of self. Featuring Dyana Codds her ice-cold cadence brought new conversations to the table: Women rappers in Nairobi. Her ability to match up to Wakadinali’s proficiency proved that women can own the mic and drop flows. While the conversation of needing more women in the spotlight is unending, this was not the first time a woman outshined expectations in rap. Just like US Hip Hop had Lil Kim, Missy Elliot, and more, Nairobi has its fair of rap first ladies.
“Nazizi was the first lady to boldly step into the scene when ladies weren’t really at it. She had a very impressive run in the rap game as a solo act before forming the group Necessary Noize with Wyre, and while at it she worked with the best in the game at that time, namely Kshaka, Ksouth, Tedd Josiah and the list is endless. The First Lady of Hip-hop as she’s known, Nazizi had a very dope run when coming up.”Ondu, a Hip-Hop enthusiast and podcast host tells the NATIVE. Shaping the space for women, Nazizi’s pen game was adorned with punchlines and wordplays that went above sexism and misogyny. Her songs covered a wide range of themes encouraging girls it’s okay to make the first move in “Kenyan Girl, Kenyan Boy.” For many women in the industry, Nazizi was the first embodiment of a Kenyan woman rapper.
Currently, Nairobi’s rap scene is undergoing an exciting period celebrating the highest rate of women in the industry. Rappers such as Tulia, Silverstone, and NATIVE’S 2021 Fresh Meat Alum Groovy Jo are dominating the industry. Preaching body positivity, sexual liberation, and freedom, female rappers have a platform that was not there previously. While the number still lags behind, the growth is commendable highlighting the genre has evolved making space for both men and women.
Rap groups have always been an aspect of rap. Creating a catalogue of hits, rap groups such as Kalamashaka, Mau Mau, K-South, Mashiftar, and more showed that unity is the basic unit of a rap group.”Kalamashaka is one of the most successful Rap Groups ever do it in Kenya and East Africa.”Ondu tells the NATIVE. “These guys were heading major gigs in Kenya mid to late 90s. They even opened for Coolio and Lost Boyz Crew between 1996-98, performed for a crowd of 70,000 people in Nigeria, rocked stages in Sweden, performed and recorded jams with Dead Prez, and were even featured in the Source Magazine, the longest-running Hip-Hop/Rap publication in America. They were so huge Snoop Dogg talked about them back then saying they were the African WU-TANG CLAN. They later formed MAU MAU CAMP which comprised Nairobi-based rappers mostly from Dandora.
“Ksouth were the originators of that new Funk that wasn’t revolutionary raps as much as they did some social political & conscious tracks. They did comical rap which in Tanzania is called Rap Katuni. The duo which consisted of Bamboo and Abass created the sub-genre dubbed Kapuka which has been an intricate part of Kenya’s sound. K-South were so huge that by just dissing the new style Banda which Ogopa Djs was experimenting with, they gave birth to a whole genre called KAPUKA,” Ondu shares. Originating in the late 1990s with artists such as Redsan, Bebe Cool, and more, Kapuka is a fusion of hip-hop, reggae, and African traditional music styles and has grown to become one of the founding sounds of East Africa’s music scene.
Looking back, Hip-Hop has evolved into a solid reflection of Kenya’s ascendant talent. Stars such as Mashifta who enjoyed massive success when they dropped their first two tracks, “System Ya Majambazi” and “Pesa Pombe na Wanawake,” which were well received by the masses thus enjoying airplay on mainstream media before the government flagged the songs down due to their message. The genre has made an impact socially, politically, and emotionally.
Currently, the present class of Hip-Hop freshmen looks hopeful and the future is brighter for Hip-Hop on the continent. Buruklyn Boyz is the biggest export from Nairobi in the rap scene making astronomical steps with the release of their debut album ‘East Mpaka London’ and even featured as curators for 2022’s Boiler Room, they showcased the genre has moved from the streets into boardrooms. Solo acts such as STL and Lness have shown ladies they can spit bars and look pretty while groups such as Camp Mulla, Bamboo, Big Mike,Kapten, and Kantai made it cool to rap in English making space for the Kilimani rap babies.
“We are at a space where KE HIPHOP is the genre with the most Nominations and most consistent appearance on most if not all Music Award shows in Kenya, East Africa, and Africa at large,” Ondu says about Kenyan rap at the moment. “At the recently concluded SOUNDCITY awards, Ke Hiphop had 4 Nominations and a major performance on the big stage in Nigeria. Tell me what that is if not GROWTH?? The only stand-alone genre with its own Award Show. That looks like growth to me.”
EAST AFRICA’S WOMEN EXECUTIVES ARE CHALLENGING THE MUSIC INDUSTRY’S MALE-DOMINATED NARRATIVE
South African House Duo, Black Motion, Return With Rhythmic “Khululeka”
The SA house music pioneers are back with a deeply moving and rhythmic new release.
South African house music pioneers, Black Motion, are back with a deeply moving and rhythmic new release titled “Khululeka.” True to its meaning in isiZulu— “be free” or “find peace”—this track is an anthem of liberation, urging listeners to let go, embrace love, and heal through the power of music.
With their signature percussion-driven melodies and the soul-stirring vocal chants of King Monopoly, “Khululeka” transcends the dancefloor. It is a spiritual and emotional journey, carrying an energy that is both uplifting and transformative. Whether in personal reflection or in the collective movement of a crowd, the song invites listeners to surrender to its message and rediscover love—both within and around them.
Since their formation in 2010 in Soshanguve, Black Motion—made up of Murdah Bongz (born Robert Mahosana), and Thabo (born Roy Thabo Mabogwane)—has become a dominant force in global house music. Their debut single, “Banane Mavoko,” put them on the map, and their albums, including the gold-certified Fortune Teller and the platinum-selling Ya Badimo, have cemented their status as pioneers of the genre. Their collaborations with artists like Oskido and Black Coffee, along with accolades such as multiple South African Music Awards (SAMAs), have solidified their place at the forefront of African electronic music.
Over the years, Black Motion has partnered with brands like Ballantine’s, Sony Xperia, and Coke Studio, and they are looking to partner with more under their new label Intascore, expanding their influence beyond music. With a combined social media reach of over 2.2 million followers, their music resonates with audiences worldwide, uniting people through rhythm, culture, and movement.
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KEMENA FINDS BALANCE
Following the release of '888', Kemena reflects on artistic evolution, self-acceptance, and balancing...
A little over two weeks after the release of his first project of 2025, Kemena and I sat down to discuss the joys of creating art, the clarity that powers ‘888,’ and the freedom he found in surrendering to his path. Even though we were speaking virtually, his presence feels steady. He is speaking with the quiet confidence that defines his music–intentional yet fluid, deeply personal yet resonant. Over the years, his artistry has evolved, shaped by a desire for creative independence and the pressures of an industry that often demands compromise.
With ‘888,’ Kemena has reclaimed his space. The project neither chases the mainstream nor rejects it; instead, it exists on its terms, rooted in self-assurance. Across seven tracks, he weaves through stories with a sharp lyrical style and layered production, a testament to an artist fully in tune with his craft. In many ways, ‘888’ feels like an arrival—not to the commercial peak the industry might expect, but to something more valuable: a place of artistic certainty.
Standout tracks like “Rainy Day” and “Bola” remind you that Kemena is a storyteller in more ways than one. On “Rainy Day” he flexes his production prowess but the summery vibe of the song does not blunt the sentimentality of his lyricism. With “Bola,” Kemena taps into his element, deploying witty puns and his brilliant approach of social commentary and “I’m not mad, just hungry” is as relatable as it is envy-worthy—to be so intertwined with a lover that they can complete your lines.
Totaling seven tracks with a runtime of 16 minutes, ‘888’ is brief but expansive, a collection of ruminative thoughts, nimble melodies, and declarations of self-assurance. There is no hesitance in Kemena’s voice when he speaks about the album, no lingering doubt about whether he made the right choices, which is the same confidence he’s communicating in “You don’t need me”. ‘888’ is the product of someone who knows who they are and, more importantly, knows that they do not have to prove it to anyone. From the powerful declaration of “I Will Never” to the easy groove of “Evelyn’s Vibration,” the album takes you on a journey. It is a return to himself, a rekindling of the mindset he had before industry expectations clouded his creative instincts. It is also reminiscent of ‘Bond,’ the project that first put him on the radar of music lovers.
“I made ‘Bond’ as a student,” he reflected during our conversation. “I wasn’t trying to be anything. I just wanted to make music. And then all of a sudden, people started calling me—people I never expected. That was how I got into songwriting for other artists. But somewhere along the line, I forgot what it felt like to make music just because I wanted to.” When I asked him how he found his way back, his answer was certain: “I stopped overthinking. I just made what felt right.”
Our conversation, lightly edited, follows.
‘888’ just dropped. How are you feeling?
I feel cool. It’s been nice. I feel like a celebrity, to be honest. I’ve done a couple of interviews already, and I feel like I’m saying the same thing over and over again. But that’s a good thing, right?
‘888’ feels different from ‘Guitars and Malaria.’ Did you approach this project differently?
‘888’ feels like me making music the way I want to again. With ‘Guitars and Malaria,’ there were a lot of industry conversations and people saying, “Work with this guy, collaborate with that person, do this to make the music more commercial.” I don’t regret making that album, but looking back, I think I was trying to fit into something instead of just being myself. I wouldn’t say I lost myself completely but, I lost the balance between the business and my authenticity. I started to feel like my music wasn’t valid unless it was getting industry attention. And for a while, I was chasing that. I was doing what I thought I should be doing, instead of what I wanted to do. I had to learn that I’m probably a project artist. I needed to stop feeling like my music wasn’t enough just because it wasn’t ‘blowing up.’
I started thinking about why people liked ‘Bond’ and, back then, I wasn’t overthinking it. I was a student just making music because I loved it. I wasn’t trying to force anything. But then, suddenly, things started happening—I started getting calls from people I never expected. That’s actually how I got into songwriting for other artists. People in the industry heard ‘Bond,’ reached out, and asked me to write for them. And before I knew it, I was deep in that world. But in the process, I started to forget what it felt like to just make music for me.
Was there a specific moment that made you realize you needed to return to that authenticity?
Yeah. At some point, I just stopped overthinking. I realized [that] I didn’t have to prove anything to anyone. I didn’t have to chase industry validation. I could just make what felt right. That’s where ‘888’ came from.
One of the things that stands out about your music is how it feels both deeply personal and universally relatable. Do your lyrics come from lived experiences?
Not exactly. I think the way my music is put together—the energy, the emotions—is influenced by what I’m going through at the time. But the actual content? Almost none of it comes from my personal life. I don’t write songs like, “Oh, this happened to me, let me put it in a song.” Instead, I take a feeling, a perspective, or something I’ve observed and build a fictional story around it. I also like humor. I like to be witty, to play with words in a way that feels natural but unexpected. That’s always been part of my music.
That makes sense. Your lyrics often have a layered meaning like they say one thing on the surface, but there’s a deeper story underneath.
Exactly. I like to phrase things in ways that make people stop and think. I want someone to hear a line and go, “I’ve thought about this before, but I never knew how to put it into words.” Or sometimes, I just want the music to feel good. It doesn’t always have to make sense, it just has to resonate.
Would you say that’s why artists like Omah Lay and Jon Bellion resonate with you? Because they do something similar with their songwriting?
Yes! Jon Bellion especially. His music is almost like sermons sometimes. He says things in a way that makes you pause and reflect. Like in “Conversations with My Wife,” when he sings, “What if all the things I’ve done were just attempts at earning love? Cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep” That’s the kind of songwriting that gets to me. That’s such a simple way to express love. He could have said it in a hundred different ways, but he chose that one. That’s what I admire. Not just what they’re saying, but how they say it.
That approach is very present in your music, especially in ‘888.’ What’s your favorite lyrical moment on the album?
It’s a conversation. It’s not one person talking. On ‘I will never,’ there’s this part where one voice says, “The things you want for me, I want it too. The things you like for me, I like it too.” And then another voice—almost like a god-like figure—responds: “Hope you know that I would never say something I don’t mean.” That moment feels special to me. It’s basically a prayer, but I don’t like to box my lyrics in, I keep it open-ended.
With the album it feels like you weren’t just making music but you were reclaiming something. Would you say this project is a turning point for you?
Yes, I think so. It’s not my first turning point, though. ‘Bond’ was the first one. ‘Bond’ was the project that put me in rooms I never expected to be in. Before that, I was just a student making music. Then, suddenly, people were calling me—people I respected. That was how I got into songwriting for other artists. But then, in trying to navigate that world, I lost a bit of myself. ‘Guitars and Malaria’ was me trying to find that balance, and ‘888’ is me realizing that I don’t have to balance anything, I just have to be.
You’ve mentioned that you’re at peace with not chasing commercial success. Is there a part of you that wants mainstream recognition?
If it comes, great. But I’m not going to force it. I know how the game works. I’ve written for big artists, so I know the kind of songs that work in that space. And if I wanted to, I could sit down and make those songs. I could make music that fits neatly into what’s trending. But that’s not why I do this.
Does songwriting for other artists help you keep your music pure?
Yes! That’s a big part of it. Since I also write and produce for other artists, I don’t have to rely on my music to pay my bills. That takes a lot of pressure off. It means I can release what I want, when I want, without thinking, “Will this chart? Will this go viral?”
That freedom must be refreshing.
It is and it’s why I don’t overthink my releases anymore. I’m constantly creating. So when something feels ready, I put it out. I don’t have to wait for industry validation or the “perfect” timing.
What does that mean for the future? More projects?
A lot more. I’ve realized that my way forward is to just keep giving. The Lord has put me in a position where I can create without stress, so that’s what I’m going to do. No long breaks. No holding back. I’ll just keep releasing.
What is the biggest takeaway from ‘888’ for you?
That you don’t have to force anything. Whether it’s love, creativity, or success—what’s meant for you will come when you’re aligned with yourself. And if you have to fight too hard to keep something, maybe it was never really yours to begin with.
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Afropop is the love child of its many influences
In a reversal of events at the turn of the 2000s, Afropop is profoundly reshaping the texture of music...
Over the last two and a half years, some of Afropop’s biggest stars have denounced the genre to advance their personal agendas. In a wide-ranging interview from 2023 with Apple Music’s Zane Lowe just ahead of the release of his last album, ‘I Told Them…,’ Burna Boy derided Afrobeats for a perceived lack of contextual subject matter. “Afrobeats, as people call it, it’s mostly about nothing, literally nothing,” he said. “There’s no substance to it. Nobody’s talking about anything. It’s just a great time, it’s an amazing time. But at the end of the day, life is not an amazing time.”
Just a few months later, Nigerian music superstar, Wizkid, also disavowed the genre, claiming that he was not an Afrobeats act and that his then-forthcoming album, ‘Morayo,’ would not be an Afrobeats album as he considered the genre – and the classification it infers – too limiting for the type of music he made. Predictably, fans were incensed by both artists’ stances and the casual dismissal of the genre that their statements invited. What was almost lost in the whirlwind of that discourse is that for all the attempts to capture the totality of African music under the loaded ‘Afrobeats’ label, African music has never been just one thing; and, in that spirit, Afrobeats itself has always been all-welcoming of a multiplicity of influences and styles.
From its earliest iteration, Afropop has always been a potpourri of sounds that took influences from various parts of the Black diaspora and distilled them with an African sensibility. The work of early Afrobeats pioneers like Junior and Pretty is a direct descendant of the burgeoning Hip-Hop blueprint of the ‘80s; while the early 2000s popularity of Ajegunle-based rabble-rousers like Daddy Showkey, Danfo Drivers, and African China occurred tangentially to the rising profile of Reggae on a global scale. The mid-2000s to early 2010s saw the arrival of several dulcet-toned singers like Banky W and Tiwa Savage rooted in the R&B and Soul traditions, introducing a slicker dimension to Nigerian popular music. As always, homegrown stars adapted these foreign styles for their own market while continuing to work on a distinctive style that centered genuine indigenous expression and ingenuity.
Over the years, the fruit of those experiments has ripened to produce a scene that’s bustling with life and talent. As the genre has attained global attention, many sub-genres have come to the fore, showcasing the depth of African music on a global scale. If Wizkid’s sonorous melodies and unbeatable charisma made him the sun of Afrobeats in the 2010s, Olamide’s militaristic bars and Pop anthems rooted in their street sensibilities mark him out as the genre’s moon. It was on Oamide’s back that a nascent indigenous rap circuit rested. Taking the mantle of DaGrin, the Bariga-raised rapper who helped institutionalize rapping in Nigerian languages with cult classics like “Eni Duro” and “Voice Of The Street.” Along with the effort of other stars like Reminisce, Phyno, Lil Kesh, and CDQ, the indigenous rap movement gained steam and, recognizing the Nigerian market’s zest for melodies, soon morphed into Street-Pop, a distinct hybridization of local genres like Fuji, Apala, and Highlife.
Inspired by the work of their forebearers, a new crop of artists have taken Street-Pop to new heights. Zlatan and Naira Marley served as a transitory generation; together with Rexxie, they patented a more melodic take on Street-Pop while infusing a devil-may-care disposition that launched them to the top of Nigerian music. It is fitting that Olamide was the one to hand the baton to Asake, the biggest Street-Pop star of the moment. Similar to the YBNL head’s legendary album run, Asake has released three albums and one extended play in three years, each coming out to a world paying more and more attention to his work. Impressively, Asake has also established himself as a global touring star, regularly playing sold out arena concerts across the world with a music style that is rooted in Yoruba oral tradition.
Asake is not spreading the Street-Pop gospel alone, though. Ikorodu star, Seyi Vibez, has also grabbed mainstream attention for his gritty take on the genre. Initially a divisive figure, his 2023 song, “Different Pattern,” saw him reach a new level of cultural relevance in 2024 and his new extended play, ‘Children Of Africa,’ arrived in February 2025, marking a new era in his career. The yearning for a reclamation of cultural heritage that has created a Street-Pop golden era has not evaded other parts of Nigeria. Shallipopi’s drawling, sprawled-out sound mimics the playful pulse of South-South pidgin while Jeriq, hailing from Nigeria’s South-East, has emerged as one of Nigeria’s most acclaimed rappers. Outside Nigeria, there’s a yearning in Ghana to preserve the purity and history of its Highlife genre, an elemental component of Afrobeats. British-Ghanaian producer, Juls’, ‘PALMWINE DIARIES’ and ‘High Life Sessions,’ both pulsate with the beguiling riffs of the storied genre while the work of Nigerian brother-duo, The Cavemen, is reintroducing Eastern Nigerian highlife to a new generation of listeners.
A youth-led zest for exploration outside the framework of Afropop has also produced a sub-culture that rejects the tenets of mainstream conservatism. Beginning as a band of friends and collaborators who prioritized freewheeling experimentation, Alte music has emerged as one of the most important sonic evolutions of the last two decades. First championed by OG pioneers like DRB Lasgidi, LOS, and Show Dem Camp, the Alte community drew in left-field thinkers and madcap auteurs setting the stage for a new generation of stars to emerge from the depths of SoundCloud circa 2016. In the hands of stars like Odunsi (The Engine), Cruel Santino, and Lady Donli, the Alte experiment reached an unprecedented level of critical and commercial success.
Odunsi’s ‘rare.,’ throbbing with influences from ‘70s Disco and Funk, sits in the canon of great Nigerian debuts and Lady Donli’s ‘Enjoy Your Life’ artfully melded Folk music with Afrobeat and Soul across its 15 tracks. Taken along with the work of producers like GMK and Genio Bambino, these acts built a community that successfully created the blueprint for a sound that reflected the tensions and joys of younger Nigerians who saw life in a specific fashion. It even took flight beyond the borders of Nigeria with a young Amaarae cutting her teeth working alongside some of the most prominent names in the Alte community. The inventiveness and clarity of vision that the community prioritises is evident across both of the Ghanaian-American artist’s albums, ‘The Angel You Don’t Know’ and ‘Fountain Baby.’
In a reversal of events at the turn of the 2000s when Afropop was heavily influenced by outside sounds and genres, music from the continent is profoundly reshaping the texture of music outside its borders. Much like how the Windrush Generation and other immigrants from the West Indies helped to introduce Britain to Reggae, Dancehall and Soca, generations of African immigrants are making music that signals their African heritage, with Afropop as a base influence. The rise in popularity of African sounds has helped UK artists mesh the lingo and sonics from the continent into their work, creating a new genre referred to as Afroswing. Taking influences from Afrobeat, Dancehall, and Grime, Afroswing is distinctive for its use of lyrics from Africa with British rapper, J Hus, credited as one of its pioneers. Songs like J Hus’ “Did You See,” Ramz’s “Barking,” and Not3s’s “Aladdin” signal to the sound of the homeland and speak to Afrobeats’ incredible stride to global popularity as a base reference point for global Black music.
Nearly a decade out from “One Dance,” the Drake, Wizkid, and Kyla collab that pushed Afropop into a different stratosphere, the genre is in safe hands with several stars emerging across different sub-genres that speak to our past, present and future. It is perhaps more than the pioneers imagined when they were making music all those years ago, but all the roads have led here to Afropop being a global sensation that offers various forms of expression to a watching world. There are no limitations on what can be done within the genre, that sense of open-endedness and possibility was always our strength, and it’s why Afropop will stand the test of time.
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