‘M$NEY Live’ Demonstrated The Impact Of Asake And Spotify’s Partnership 

With the release of Asake’s live version of his 2026 album, ‘M$NEY,the grandeur that comes with his live acts is now on full display. His performance at Theatre Royal Drury Lane in London earlier this year may have been a more smaller, intimate setting as opposed to his past performances in 02 Arena and Madison Square garden that hosted tens of thousands, but one thing we can say for sure is his One Night Only performance came with just as much of an electric atmosphere as any other.

The performance was done in direct collaboration with Spotify, reaching a milestone as the first time an African artist has released a full-length, live album concert film. Speaking on the significance of the partnership, Victor Okpala, the Artist and Label Partnerships Manager for West Africa Spotify, said that the intention behind the partnership was about deepening the connection between Asake and his community. 

“Live performances and videos deepen user engagement and that’s the goal: to make passive and already engaged Spotify listeners deepen connections with the artists, through this new video format,” Okpala said. The live performance was only the culmination of a months-long partnership with Asake that started with the reveal of his album tracklist and the featured acts for ‘M$NEY.

 

Per Okpala, partnering with Asake was a no-brainer. “Asake’s catalogue exemplifies the listening habits of the wider Nigerian populace per the data we see on Spotify,” he explained. “Unlike most SSA countries, Nigerians are quite hyper-local in their taste profile. Asake’s music is rooted in his cultural influences, and for us, aligning around the ‘M$NEY’ album beyond editorial programming, is a way to encourage the continuous supply of hyper-local content and champion one of the artists that is heroing this trend for Sub Saharan Africa.”

Through this live performance, and an Asake-themed listening parting hosted during the week of his album release, loyal fans were able to feel seen and have more intimate moments with Asake. “Cultivating moments that bring Spotify users closer to the artists they love, beyond just hitting play in the app, is usually a key determinant in our partnership considerations.,” Okpala explains. 

The standout ingredient that really pulls  all these activations together is the live event in London and Asake’s use of a live orchestra. From stunning vocals to breathtaking instrumentals, it took an album that wasn’t received as well as he would’ve hoped to a literal piece of sonic art. Apart from that, this live collection saw the debut of some other songs that weren’t among those originally listed in M$NEY. There’re five additional tracks titled “King’s Intro,” “Psycho,” “Ako,” “Ego,” and “Bad Boy.”

 

King’s Intro” opens up with an enthralling fanfare, typically associated with the arrival of an important figure or, judging from the title, a king.This is Asake at one of his proudest, affirming his status as royalty in the Afrobeats genre. Although this intro was only 55 seconds long, it was a powerful opener, setting the stage for what’s to come. It followed seamlessly into “Psycho,” coming in with heavenly then subsequently deep violins. 

Similarly to “King’s Intro,” “Psycho” was just as short but did more than enough with the time it had. When he said, “On my way up gold medal, Carry my own cross no helper,” Asake seemed to be referring to his journey towards glory and the struggle he had to overcome on his own. In line with the title, the song reflects on the determined, almost insane mindset that’s needed to get to the pinnacle he currently stands on. In other words, he needs to be a psycho.

The first full length song came with “Ako.” The track sees Asake confessing his deep affection towards another person. This is evident when he says, “Omo this your love calling o, Never felt this way before you know” and “Onomè baby, Onomè baby eleyin ju ege,” talking about someone with pretty eyes. Compared to the original tracks on M$NEYthat mainly revolved around Asake’s successes in the past few years, “Ako” helps us see him through a vulnerable and romantic lens, taking a moment to express his admiration and overwhelming commitment to his significant other. 

Ego” is the Igbo word for money, a term that’s repeated throughout the course of the song. It doesn’t take much to see the vast wealth Asake has acquired over his years of stardom. From luxury cars to lavish jewelry, money has always been a central theme in his music. “Ego” is where we see Asake’s materialism at its fullest, boasting about the amount of riches he’s acquired through his accomplishments. 

Bad Boy” is a more superficial take on affection from what we hear on “Ako.” While the latter covers the emotional aspect, the former is more about physical attraction. From “Only you see wetin you carry, You really know how to rock those jeans” to “Omo you bad see your curves,” it is your classic eye candy-centric, Afropop jam.

 

The outro is the perfect sign off to a captivating performance. The words “Go money” are chanted halfway through the track, backing up the exhilarating instrumentals. Since its release, the live album has surged to the top of charts in Nigeria, dominating Spotify and Apple Music Nigeria in a strong showcase of the resultant effect of the partnership with Spotify, displaying the beauty of all these elements coming together to add another string in the bow of Asake as one of Afropop’s premier performers. 

 A Ranking Of All Davido’s Albums 

Nobody becomes part of Afropop’s Big Three by accident. It takes years of relentless work and real dedication to the craft. Davido has undoubtedly put in the work. Over the last 14 years, he’s built one of the most reliable catalogues in modern Afropop, growing alongside the genre as it evolved from a regional force into a global one.

Across five studio albums, he’s embraced reinvention, weathered personal loss and refined his strengths without losing sight of what made him a star in the first place. Not every album has landed with the same impact. Some stretched his artistry further, while others doubled down on the hitmaking formula that made him one of the continent’s biggest stars. Still, each project captures a distinct moment in both his career and Afropop’s story. With ‘Oriade’ on the way, there’s no better time to revisit the catalogue of one of Africa’s leading artists.

A Good Time

The first instalment in the Time trilogy, ‘A Good Time,’ arrived seven years after Davido’s debut album. After years of dominating the charts with blockbuster singles, ‘A Good Time’ saw a return to the album format for Davido, a clear statement of intent as he sought to consolidate his status as an Afropop juggernaut. It’s arguably his most focused body of work to date, balancing hits across genres with moments of introspection while producing evergreen cuts likeRisky,” “D & G,” and Blow My Mind.”

 

TIMELESS

Love and loss are painted thoroughly in Davido’s fourth studio album. In a chat with CNN, the artist mentioned how the title, Timeless, was derived from his desire to have the album cemented as a classic for decades to come. With the project having amassed millions upon millions of streams, it’s safe to say that goal has since been reached. It makes for an exciting mix of Amapiano and Afrobeats, while simultaneously covering his battle with loss prior to the release of the album. The album’s unforgettable features elevated the project to unprecedented heights. From the club banger that is “UNAVAILABLE” to the vulnerability we got from “E PAIN ME”, Timeless gives us the classic Davido we all know and love, while exploring the uncertainty and grief that surrounds the very concept of life. 

 

Omo Baba Olowo

Released at a time when Nigerian Pop was entering a new commercial era, ‘Omo Baba Olowo’ introduced Davido as one of the genre’s brightest new stars. While it occasionally showed the rough edges of a young artist still finding his voice, its highs remain inarguable. Songs like “Dami Duro,” “Ekuro,” “All of You” and “Back When” became defining records of the era, helping to shape the aspirational, larger-than-life energy that would define mainstream Afropop throughout the decade.

 

A Better Time

One of the factors that makes Davido’s  ‘A Better Time’ culturally resonant isn’t just the music, but its timing and how its anthemic lead single, “FEM,” arrived as a ray of sunshine amid the 2020 #EndSARS protests. Boasting a stacked lineup of guest features, including Nicki Minaj, Chris Brown, Young Thug, Lil Baby, Mayorkun, Sauti Sol and Sho Madjozi, it remains a body of work that underscores Davido’s ability to glide across genres and excel at collaborations, both locally and internationally. 

 

5IVE

As his fifth studio project, ‘5ive’ plays it straight down the middle. Coming off the emotional reset of ‘Timeless,’ this album dials back the heaviness to focus entirely on what Davido does best: stacking big features and making hits for the club. Playing to one of his biggest strengths, ‘5IVE’ brought together collaborators from across the world without ever losing sight of Davido at the center. It also gave him one of the biggest songs of 2025 and earned him another Grammy nomination.

 

Two Years Later, Onyeka Onwenu Is Still An Avatar Of Nigerian Culture

There is a temptation, whenever we remember Onyeka Onwenu, to begin with the music. Perhaps it is because songs like “One Love,” “Iyogogo,” “Ekwe,” and “Wait For Me” remain embedded in the country’s cultural memory. Perhaps it is because her voice came with a peculiar warmth, elegant without tampering with her conviction. Or because music was the medium through which most Nigerians first encountered her.

Yet, reducing Onwenu to music alone does her a disservice. Two years after her passing on July 30, 2024, what lingers most consists of the expanse of her legacy and the example she embodied. Over the years, careers have become increasingly defined by specialization, but the multi-hyphenate star represented a different possibility. She worked across journalism, activism, politics, music, broadcasting, and film with unusual ease. Her impact is etched in stone as proof that art could coexist with public service and that celebrity could be wielded in pursuit of something larger than fame.

 

Across music, journalism, politics, and film, Onwenu treated Nigeria itself as her canvas. However, long before she became the “Elegant Stallion,” there was a young girl learning and thriving in survival and resistance. Born in 1952, Onwenu came of age in a Nigeria still defining itself. The youngest child of educationist and politician D.K. Onwenu, she lost her father at the age of four, just days before he was to assume office as Minister of Education. 

The story of Onyeka Onwenu is often told through her accomplishments, but the foundations of her character were laid much earlier. As a teenager in Port Harcourt, she reportedly wrote a political opinion piece criticizing Nigeria’s involvement in Rhodesia’s affairs. The article never reached publication; her mother, fearful of possible repercussions, withdrew it before it could be printed. The impulse behind it, however, never disappeared.

During the Nigerian Civil War, Onwenu and her sisters found refuge in music. Under cocoa trees that doubled as protection from air raids, they sang songs about love, faith, loss, and hope. For a young woman navigating war, music became a succor. It went on to become a form of expression defining the rest of her life. After studying International Relations and Communications at Wellesley College in Massachusetts and earning a Master’s degree from The New School for Social Research in New York, Onwenu spent a brief period working with the United Nations before returning to Nigeria. In her memoir, ‘My Father’s Daughter,’ she described that decision as a leap into uncertainty, a return to a country she loved but one whose contradictions she could not ignore.

In the early 1980s, Onyeka Onwenu emerged as one of the country’s most fearless journalists. Her landmark documentary, ‘Nigeria: A Squandering of Riches,’ examined corruption, inequality and the failures of governance in an oil-rich nation where prosperity remained elusive for many citizens. The documentary remains one of the most significant televised critiques of Nigeria’s political establishment and helped establish Onwenu as a journalist unafraid of difficult truths. 

 

The concerns she raised then continue to feel strikingly relevant today. It is safe to say that is why Onwenu’s activism never appeared performative. It was part and parcel of her life.  Whether defending the democratic mandate of MKO Abiola after June 12, challenging the treatment of Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, advocating for women’s rights, or staging a hunger strike against the Nigerian Television Authority over unpaid royalties, she consistently aligned herself with causes that demanded courage. This powerful trait subsequently spilled into other facets of her public life. 

An understanding of Onwenu’s music and rhythm demands an awareness that activism was at its core. While many remember her as a musical icon, her songs were often conversations about society. She fused Igbo Folk traditions, Highlife, Contemporary Pop, and Soul into a sound that felt distinctly Nigerian while remaining globally accessible. Albums like ‘Endless Life’ and ‘Onyeka’ produced enduring classics, but her greatest achievement may have been proving that commercially successful music could still carry a conscience. 

Her songs spoke about peace, unity, health awareness, women’s empowerment, and the dignity of ordinary people. “One Love” reverberated through the continent, a sonorous argument for coexistence. “Iyogogo” celebrated culture and encouraged social consciousness while being a letter to a love interest. Even after transitioning from secular music into gospel during the 1990s, the themes remained remarkably consistent. That same mission extended beyond Nigeria’s borders.

Amid the struggles that plagued the Apartheid South Africa era, Onwenu used her platform to express solidarity with the struggle. Her song dedicated to Winnie Mandela recognized not only the anti-apartheid movement but also the resilience of African women navigating extraordinary political circumstances. She understood that songs could become statements and that artists could shape political consciousness.

 

However, not every chapter of her activism escaped controversy. Her participation in the 1998 Two Million Man March in support of General Sani Abacha drew criticism from many Nigerians, though Onwenu would later write that she had been deceived about the purpose of the gathering. This episode highlights how a public life as expansive as hers was never without its complexities.

The question that lingers after Onwenu’s death is whether Nigeria still produces cultural figures like her. Contemporary Nigerian artists operate within a dramatically different environment. Social media has transformed fame. Streaming platforms have globalized audiences. Yet these developments have also complicated the relationship between artists and activism. The years following #EndSARS revealed how deeply Nigerians still expect public figures to engage with social issues. At the same time, they exposed the risks that come with doing so. In that context, what Onyeka Onwenu stood for still needs active representation.

She did not separate her artistic identity from her civic responsibilities. She viewed public engagement as part of the work. This does not mean every artist must become an activist. But it does raise an important question about what society expects from its most influential voices.

In all of these, music was only one chapter. When Nollywood entered its period of rapid expansion, Onwenu reinvented herself once again. She became one of the industry’s most respected veteran performers, bringing dignity and emotional depth to roles that introduced her to a new generation. From ‘Conspiracy’ to ‘Half of a Yellow Sun’ and numerous other productions, she demonstrated the breadth of her creative prowess. Her success in film reinforced something Nigerians had already begun to understand: Onyeka Onwenu’s legacy defied categorization. She was a singer, journalist, broadcaster, actor, activist, and politician, but none of these titles fully defined her. 

 

Even her political journey reflected that refusal to remain confined. Though unsuccessful in her attempts to become chairman of Ideato North Local Government Area, she continued serving in public roles, including as Chairperson of the Imo State Council for Arts and Culture and later as Executive Director of the National Centre for Women Development. There, her advocacy for women found institutional support. 

Few public figures embodied feminism with the same clarity. The iconic vocalist never viewed women’s rights as a fashionable talking point. Her understanding of feminism was rooted in dignity, opportunity, and self-determination. She repeatedly argued that women should never have to apologize for occupying space, pursuing ambition, or making their voices heard. In many ways, that philosophy mirrors the trajectory of her own life. She entered industries dominated by men and stayed long enough to become one of their defining figures.

On the evening of July 30, 2024, news reached far and wide that Onyeka Onwenu had passed on after performing at a friend’s birthday celebration in Lagos. The image feels strangely fitting. After decades spent singing, speaking, advocating, and creating, the Elegant Stallion departed while doing what she loved most, sharing herself with others. Two years later, the true measure of Onyeka Onwenu’s legacy lies in whether future generations draw from her courage, her willingness to challenge power, her embrace of unbridled creativity, and her belief that culture can help build a better society.

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

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 “CHASEhere

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

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

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

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

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 

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 WorldKui 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

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

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

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’

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

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

“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

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’

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 Highlifefinds 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

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” 

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?’

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.