When I was a boy of about nine, I was at my mother’s shop a lot of the time. I was academically bright, so it was only natural I followed my elder sister into the lineage of shop salespersons, helping out on weekends and other free days. It was mostly a boring task for an introverted kid, but I found other ways to keep myself busy.
Those ways marked my immersion into art. Drawing was my favourite activity but I soon got into music. Writing out the entire lyrics of songs like Diddy’s “Coming Home” and M.I. Abaga’s “Undisputed Champion”, I would rap them over and over till my tongue mastered the curve of every syllable. It brought great joy to a boy learning the nuance of words. That era came to a perfect circle when, one usual boring day, I found a CD of Faze’s ‘Independent’ within a cluster of soft drink bottles, dust and cobwebs covering its rounded edges.
Fortunately, the shop also had a big MP3 device. Until then, I’d only used it for its radio. The Faze disk demanded something of me; I wasn’t big on technical skills so I had to work my way around the device a bit. If you are familiar with the days before streaming changed music consumption, then you know the process of getting a CD to play was almost as important as the music itself. You had to make sure that its rims were well cleaned; that the device’s lens were clean as well. Heck, how you placed the CD in the player was even crucial; you wanted to get everything right, as though the music was a sanctuary you could only enter after partaking in the practical splendour of its rituals.
Coming into the Faze album, I knew little about the man. He was just another musician, handsome and neatly cut in the suits he usually wore. He was also a member of the defunct Plantashun Boyz, but my generation wasn’t too informed on the group’s legacy, especially as we came up in the era of solo star 2Face Idibia.
Thus my first play on ‘Independent’ came without the flurry of information we’re familiar with today. That, I think, allowed me to enter the music without any expectations or prejudices. And without the temptation of sharing any instant thoughts on social media, the happenings of my life at the time were usually soundtracked by ‘Independent’. For over a year, I listened to this album as much as I possibly could, not quite familiar with how much classic material was embedded within its songs.
The album starts with “I Don Come”, a song that’s split into two verses which are the first and last song on the album respectively. Crooning assuredly over a booming beat which sounds made for a punchline-heavy rapper, Faze announces his presence on the former while shouting out his family and collaborators—ID Cabasa, Cobhams Asuquo, OJB Jezreel, Paul Runz etc.—on the closing track.
In overall analysis, these songs are not usually highlighted among the album’s standouts but are indicative of the album’s greatest strength: its humanity. Just so we’re clear, these weren’t the most energetic performances or virtuosic vocal showcases. Faze had both in good measure, but how he came across as another guy on the streets was most endearing. In my mother’s shop, I could sit behind its show glass and feel like I was having intimate conversations with a friend. An older friend, but one who was nonetheless vulnerable and understanding, reflecting the world in all its glorious beauty and unavoidable ugliness.
A song like “Letter To My Brother” sees Faze at his most gracious, revisiting “Faze Alone” which he’d made years back (it was also the title of his debut solo album) and extending the olive branch to his referred brother. Word on the street was that the record was for 2Face, his former bandmate who’d been the catalyst for the group’s disbandment and who, not long after, had created “See Me So”, a lash-out at perceived detractors. The soothing way Faze sang the hook—“If you no send me o, people plenty when send me o/ I’m not alone, not Faze Alone; my brother say, Jah is here with me”—was indicative of having resolved a conflict within himself. It was one of the earliest instances of seeing a man at peace with his purpose and in love with the world.
That was the only song of its kind on the album, rendering it even more levity. Elsewhere, Faze parlayed the sensual allure of R&B into vivid pop beats. His scintillating vocals were alert to the times, taking the quartet of “Tattoo Girls”, “Kpo Kpo Di Kpo”, “Need Something” and “On A Plane” within the arena of classics. It is worth remembering that in 2006, the concept of love wasn’t as complicated as it is today. When musicians created love songs, the listener had the propensity to imagine the recipient of such adoration. Seldom, we thought, could such pristine expressions of love flow from an unoriginal source: it had to be inspired.
Faze wasn’t just inspired; he was deliberate. Even at eight, I could appreciate the album’s first skit which plays just before “Kpo Kpo Di Kpo” comes on. He freestyles the song to his friends, seeking feedback but ending up with firm believers in its instantly catchy lyrics. The song itself is a miracle of onomatopoeia, laying the chorus in a style that’s now influential and noticeably present in a song like Simi’s “Duduke”. That chest-bumping format carries into the fun nature of the record; around my little space, I’d shuffle comfortably in dance, not much concerned about what I was or was not doing right.
The duo of “Tattoo Girls” and “On A Plane” had more dramatic effects on me. Way before tattoos became more acceptable in Nigerian societies, people who had them were perceived as itinerant and morally deficient. The subtle discrimination was brought down even more fiercely against women. Faze’s song was a cultural reset. Slowly, through its irresistible groove and sexy lyrics, tattoos became to be seen in a more exotic light. Women who had them were strong willed, and Faze was looking for them. When I looked into the future and fantasized about my greatest loves, somehow they all had tattoos.
In “On A Plane”, he brings that dream into reality. Long accustomed to becoming another character through music, I became Faze meeting Halima on a plane, smoothly running into a soft oasis of conversation. The guitar strums of its production coloured the golden sheen of the song, and back then I’d imagine Faze running into the aircraft’s toilet to record a demo on his phone. I wasn’t in love then, but that was how I wanted it to be; it wasn’t too dreamy, but the mess of reality was mostly kept outside its world.
Thinking of it now, respect was always the driving ethos of Faze. Even as the pop superstars presented themselves with hyper-realised masculinity, he remained grounded in familial values and seldom sang about objectified women. This was perhaps how he made such transcendental records. He was a ladies’ man, but he was also a mothers’ man and a young boy’s man. He was my man.
Sixteen years after the release of ‘Independent’, Faze has seldom gotten his flowers. As an R&B-leaning album, I think it falls just short of the impact of Styl Plus’ ‘Expressions’ or 2Face’s ‘Face To Face’. As an album from a Pop artist, the likes of ‘Mushin 2 Mo’Hits’ and Timaya’s ‘True Story’ undoubtedly have more influence on the current sound of Nigerian pop. The legacy of ‘Independent’ is quite different; it appeals more to people who come from places similar to mine, places with limited grasp on the ebbs of popular culture. Such places were attended by a remarkable slowness, and ‘Independent’ is an album which is best savoured in a kind of seclusion.
It comes to me now, those latter years when, in junior secondary school, my friends and I would rework the lyrics of “Kolomental”. We’d sing, “Amala enter plate, ewedu start to dey craze,” and we’d sing that with all the force in our hearts, stretching our hands backwards to touch a foundational memory of our boisterous childhood. It didn’t seem like much at the time, but I guess when you’re 22 and have the world in front of you, it’s entirely possible that a song sponged in the water of your memories would act as a brief relapse from the heated stare of everything else.
What I mean to say is that Faze was an additional member of my family, a much exposed brother who was cool enough for my mother to allow me to hang around. Alongside the late great Sound Sultan and Blackmagic, he counts among my favourite everyman artists, those rare ones are comfortable in relaying the mundane with remarkable clarity. Since 2006, I have listened to a lot of music but few experiences have lingered as long as those hours when I would sit behind that showglass and having nothing to do, would take out the ‘Independent’ disk from the green cover, and slot into the MP3 player.
Characterized by his charismatic approach, lyricism, and nonconformity, Daddy Lumba reshaped the music and...
Death is said to be the end of all things, but for some, it is just a process of immortalization. That is the...
Death is said to be the end of all things, but for some, it is just a process of immortalization. That is the case for legendary Ghanaian artist Charles Kwadwo Fosuh, also known as Daddy Lumba. On the 26th of July, 2025, reports of his demise spread across the world, causing doubts and confusion until his family released an official statement through its lawyer, Fati Ali Yallah, Esq., confirming the devastating news.
For six decades, DL, as he is affectionately referred to, has been a son, a husband, a father, an artist, a teacher, an innovator, and a cultural icon. The accumulation of the lives he lived has earned him the admiration and respect of Ghanaians and music lovers around the world for generations.
Daddy Lumba started exploring his musical talent in the 1980s during his time in secondary school, eventually emerging as the lead of the school choir. Years later, during his stay in Germany, he would be introduced to Highlife music through his friendship and partnership with Nana Acheampong. The duo would form the group “Lumba Brothers” and work on the project ‘Yee Ye, aka Akwantuom,’ which was released in 1989. After the group’s breakup, he launched his solo career with his 1990 solo debut album, ‘Obi Ate Meso Buo.’
Daddy Lumba would go on to have an illustrious career. Credited with over 30 albums and more than 200 songs, his seminal works included “Playboy,” Mesom Jesus,” “Aben Wo Aha,” Poison,” and “Sika,” to name a few. Characterized by his charismatic approach, lyricism, and nonconformity, Daddy Lumba reshaped the music and art scene in Ghana. His control over his native language, Twi, allowed him to pen songs that spoke directly to the soul of the listener. His proverbial lyrics and addictive melodies made his songs easy listens for those who didn’t even fully understand the languages he sang in. He composed songs that served as a guide for people across the different facets of life.
Raised in a gospel background, Daddy Lumba blessed the world with multiple gospel albums that showed his admiration for God and were a testament to his past as a choir leader. In an interesting twist of events, he also had songs that dissected his thoughts on lust, love, and relationships and provided motivation and hope, as well as songs that would get you dancing. During his active years, Daddy Lumba’s songs ran wild across the media, streets, pubs, weddings, and funerals, and echoed from home to home across Accra to Europe.
As a student of Highlife, he ensured the growth and evolution of the sound through his songs and albums over the years. He mastered the craft so well that he would be instrumental in ushering in Borga/Burger Highlife, a sub-genre of Highlife that was steeped in contemporary influences and defined by its funky essence. Borga Highlife was not just in the sound but was also evident in his visual identity. He curated music and art in a style that bewildered people at the time. In today’s world, he would have been described as alté.
Beyond music, his influence on Ghanaian pop culture was immense. It was rooted in nonconformity and the deconstruction of stereotypes. While aspects of his music appealed to Ghana’s conservative outlook, he was also regarded by some as a moral miscreant. As the moral police came for his sensual lyrics and subversive influence on the youth, the love of the music from the wider public was louder.
Where traditional media tried to bury his songs, the masses gave them more life at parties, pubs, and any gatherings where music could be played. Around the early 2000s, Daddy Lumba would come to be accepted as a symbol of modern Ghanaian culture, eventually beating the system by finding a balance that appealed to those who wanted songs that mirrored their sensuality, youthfulness, and freedom without alienating the conservative faction of the country.
He introduced a swagger and flair to Highlife that many were not accustomed to. Winning over not just the older generation but also young people, both at home and abroad. From his many hairstyles–be it a fade, cornrows, or permed hair–he always stood out. Coupled with eye-catching aesthetics, as seen in his photos and music videos, he provided a visual blueprint that rising acts today still draw inspiration from.
Regardless of the genre, theme, or style, Daddy Lumba kept topping charts and winning over listeners. He wore many hats and played diverse roles, and executed all of them brilliantly. It did not matter if he was paying homage to his long-lost love on “Theresa,” bidding farewell on “Makra Mo,” singing praises to God on “Eye N’adom,” craving intimacy on “Pony/Enko Den,” or even preaching diversity on “Bubra,” it all came together as long as it was orchestrated by Daddy Lumba.
His songs not only mirrored his own experiences but also provided a sonic reflection of the lived experiences of the people who listened to his music. He was an artist for the people, and he never shied away from making his fans feel loved and heard.. DL was so enshrouded in Ghanaian popular culture that it is no surprise how many momentous Ghanaian occasions and memories of the last 30 years are intrinsically tied to his songs.
In a country where people often get backlash for showing their political affiliations, Lumba was appreciated more when he took a public stance on supporting a political party. He was so loved that his campaign song “Nana Winner” for the New Patriotic Party (NPP) is played at non-partisan events like raves and parties to a wild reception and excitement. Recognizing his influence, he always platformed talents as best as he could. He nurtured and mentored several artists. Through his album ‘Wo Ho Kyere’, he introduced Ofori Amponsah, his protégé, to the wider public. Ofori would go on to become one of Ghana’s most celebrated artists with hits like “Otolege,” “Odwo,” and “Emmanuella.” Daddy Lumba also mentored artists like Felix Owusu, Borax, and Ateaa Tina, among others.
While his peers were left behind with the advent of music digitalization, Lumba stayed with the times. His music became the stuff of urban legend and was among some of the most-streamed Ghanaian music across platforms in recent times. There were frequent conversations, stories, and breakdowns of his songs on social media, steered by a generation of older listeners, handing down a lived-in perspective for a younger generation. His career is a testament to the fact that good music will always stand the test of time.
When news broke of his death on the 26th of July, 2025, an entire nation fell into a state of mourning. Artists, politicians, and various individuals took to social media to share their condolences with the bereaved family. In a heartfelt message on his Facebook page, his old friend, Nana Acheampong, shared a farewell note to his old friend and brother: “You have indeed done what the creator brought you on earth to do, you will forever inspire generations,” he wrote in a post on Facebook.
Daddy Lumba lived an exciting life and had an enviable career working with artists of different eras. From Pat Thomas to Samini, Kwabena Kwabena, Okyeame Kwame, and Sarkodie, he collaborated with several acts. He also won awards and performed in multiple countries. However, his biggest win remains earning the love of an entire nation. Perhaps the most loved Ghanaian artist across generations, people were born to his music and buried with his music, completing the lifetime cycle with Daddy Lumba’s music booming in the background.
There have been public calls for a state burial for Daddy Lumba, with a vigil already planned for August 2, 2025, at Independence Square, Accra. Lumba’s legacy as an innovator and trailblazer will be etched in Ghanaian music history and the hearts of listeners across the world. He was a strong believer that he was just biding his time on earth, doing his best till it was time to leave.
While he departs the world, his songs and messages will continue to live on throughout time.
Street-pop star, Asake, has released a surprise new single titled “BADMAN GANSTA.” Produced by super...
Street-pop star, Asake, has released a surprise new single titled “BADMAN GANSTA.” Produced by super producer, P.Priime, the single, Asake’s second of the year, arrives with a crisp black and white feature and a stellar guest verse from French rapper and singer Tiakola.
The singer posted the full music video–a monochromatic montage of dazzling shots and scenes of his opulent lifestyle–across his different social media handles on Thursday evening, July 24, with a caption that read, ‘The World Of Money.’
Earlier in June, the ex-YBNL star announced a new album titled ‘Money.’ A few months before that, he released a loosie titled “Military” and then “WHY LOVE,” his first official single under his new imprint Giran Republic. “Military” served as a bookend to the first arc of his impressive career as much as an announcement of a new era, while “WHY LOVE” officially kicked off season two.
Following the release of “WHY LOVE,” Asake has also featured on songs like Olamide’s “99,” J Hus’ “Gold”, and Young Jonn’s “Che Che,” delivering standout verses that favour a melodious, laid-back approach as opposed to the spirited, fast-paced style that earned him success early on. “BADMAN GANSTA” also excels with this approach, as Asake’s melodious musings about his current lifestyle dovetail nicely with Tiakola’s equally sturdy verse over a plush beat that samples Amerie’s 2005 classic “1 Thing.”
With Asake releasing three albums in as many years, it’s not unreasonable to assume ‘Money’ might arrivebefore the end of the year. There’s also the possibility that he might be willing to take his time a little more now, seeing as he his under his imprint now.
Whatever the case may be, ‘Money’ is likely to arrive sooner rather than later, and it will be fascinating to see what other aces Asake has up his sleeves.
Ayra Starr has released her highly anticipated single “Hot Body.” The Mavin popstar has been teasing...
Ayra Starr has released her highly anticipated single “Hot Body.”
The Mavin popstar has been teasing the new single for a few weeks now, posting multiple promotional videos across social media that built up significant excitement for her third official release of the year. The release of “Hot Body” comes on the heels of recent reports that confirmed the Grammy-nominated singer had officially joined Roc Nation’s roster, the American music label, entertainment, and sports services company founded by rapper and business mogul JAY-Z.
Earlier in February, Ayra Starr shared “All The Love,” a sumptuous Afropop ballad produced by labelmate Johnny Drille and Teemode, before releasing the sleek and sensual Wizkid-assisted “Gimmie Dat” about months later. In that time period, the singer picked up two awards at the 2025 MOBO Awards for Best African Music Act and Best International Act before also clinching her first BET award for Best International Act in June.
It was recently announced that the pop singer would be joining Coldplay on the UK leg of their Music Of The Spheres World Tour between August to September, and her impressive year continues with the release of “Hot Body.” Once again, teaming up with close collaborator Ragee and UK production duo The Elements, Ayra Starr manages to deliver a sweetly erotic summer jam that’s sure to elicit plenty lip-biting, hip gyrating, and flirty winks. “Look what a hot body can do,” she sings repeatedly, almost like an enchantress performing a magic trick.
With her current deal with Mavin and Universal Music still running and the recent confirmation of her management deal with Roc Nation, it’s safe to assume that “Hot Body” might garner significant momentum both at home and abroad. Outside of her music, the singer recently wrapped up the shooting of the film adaptation of Tomi Adeyemi’s Children of Blood and Bone which is reportedly set for release in early 2027.