It’s popular for musicians to credit the church as their foundation, but it’s not cliche. There’s a deep-rooted reason for it: It happens for the same reason that there’s a “To God Be the Glory” tag at the end of Nollywood films. It’s the same reason many Nigerian corporate institutions begin their business days with praise, worship, and prayers before getting into daily operations. These things happen because of a nationwide commitment to religion and an acknowledgement of the divine, which forms the bedrock of many Nigerians’ lives. Because music reflects reality, that innate urge to run towards the gospel shows up regularly in popular music. Subtly or directly, Nigerian musicians recognise a supreme being above them, say prayers, count their blessings, and acknowledge their mortality and life’s vanity.
Gospel music and secular music have never been far off from each other in Nigeria. Throughout Nigerian history, secular artists have tried to keep their faith and connection to God in their music. The deepening of that connection in Nigeria can be traced to the country’s turbulent history in the late 1970s and 1980s, as it experienced seismic shifts in its political and socio-cultural framework. The ouster of President Shehu Shagari following the 1983 coup d’etat came with a curfew on nightlife and censorship on the media. The tumbling price of crude oil also left the country in a recession. In effect, church attendance grew because people could only envisage being saved by the divine. With Nigerians having an affinity for music, many people who came into the church were there for the hopeful music; eventually being drawn to the choir, and access to musical instruments.
Far from the old hymnals and revival songs of the 1960s, Gospel music at that time had a new trajectory driven by the influence of the American Pentecostal movement as well as the Country, Folk, and Gospel music of Jim Reeves and Johnny Cash. The music emphasised energetic contemporary music and helped birth a new era of Gospel musicians. Across Nigeria, local Scripture Union members formed bands that embodied the “praise and worship” format.
The spread of this format sparked a wider movement, with other Pentecostal groups embracing similar styles and nurturing a generation of ministers who made gospel music such as Lazarus Brothers, The Good Women of the Christ Apostolic Church, Evangelist Bola Are, and Panam Percy Paul. Gospel music enjoyed more visibility as the ban and slow disappearance of nightlife caused the winddown of Juju, which significantly infused church hymns into its structure from the mid-80s.
Even the late Fatai Rolling Dollars played drums for money in churches when he lost his musical instruments to fire during the military raid at Fela Kuti’s Kalakuta Republic in 1977. The spread of the Pentecostal movement demanded more Gospel bands, creating more opportunities for musicians. Gospel music concerts, powered by established churches and ministry bodies, became a regular occurrence, providing an avenue for musicians to earn an income.
As Nigeria transitioned out of military rule in 1999, a new wave of musical inspiration began to come to the fore. With American pop culture gaining more influence through radio and TV, young Nigerian talents, many of whom got their start in church choirs, began looking outward. Pop music, with its glamour and global appeal, quickly became the new frontier. It offered not just self-expression but the promise of fame and money. For many, the church was where they learned the basics: how to sing, play instruments, and harmonise. But the mainstream was where they now wanted to shine.
Aspiring musicians picked up production software and experimented with beats while others put their vocals to use either as singers or rappers. The focus had shifted: Gospel music had nurtured them, but secular music was calling. Conversely, there was a new shift in Nigerian Gospel at that time. The renaissance came courtesy of acts like Sam Okposo, Good Women Choir, Broda Martyns, and Kunle Ajayi, who filtered their Gospel messages through a Pop-adjacent style. Afro-Gospel rose to fame around 2011, thanks to the work of pioneering acts like Mike Abdul, Gaise Baba, DaBoomsha, and Limoblaze, who created Afropop-leaning music that glorified God.
As Afropop started to blossom in the early 2000s, Gospel and its redemptive powers continued to be a force to reckon with. Secular albums from that era typically included at least one track reflecting on faith, spirituality, or themes linked to the gospel. From 2Face Idibia’s “Thank U Lord” off 2004’s ‘Face 2 Face’ to Faze’s “Thank You” off ‘Faze Alone’ released in the same year to Timaya’s “Ogologomma” released as part of ‘True Story’ in 2007, examples of Gospel working its way into Afropop abound. M.I Abaga’s formative years as a pastor’s kid may not matter much now, but his first album ‘Talk About It’ housed “Jehovah”, a Hip-Hop-influenced interpretation of the popular shepherd’s psalm.
Perhaps, certain secular artists only remember their faith and God due to years of religious indoctrination, but it doesn’t diminish the earnestness of their surrender to the divine. “So Ope” and “Jehovah” on Wande Coal’s debut album, ‘Mushin2Mo’Hits,’ acknowledge that divine grace found him — an appropriate way to describe a celebrity lifestyle after escape from Mushin’s rough life and decadence. It’s even more humbling to most that they made it out with their singing abilities, which they mostly honed in the church.
The 2010s was a tough decade for Gospel in Afropop. As the genre began to court global attention, the music and its movement became larger than life, demanding new subject matter for inspiration. A new generation of Afropop stars emerged, and gospel-inspired tracks were almost a relic. We only got occasional reminders of it from select members of that new generation. From Wizkid’s “Oluwa Loni” off 2011’s ‘Superstar’ to Olamide’s “Lift Him High” off ‘Rapsodi’ released in the same year, as well as Davido’s “Bless Me” off 2012’s ‘Omo Baba Olowo: The Genesis’ to Burna Boy’s “Jah’s Love Is True” released as part of ‘L.I.F.E.’ in 2013, they respected the tradition but didn’t carry it past their debut albums.
When Wizkid’s “Ojuelegba” took off in 2015, worship and religion in Afropop had already morphed from special tracks and standalones on albums to the genre mixing with the secular on the sametrack. On the song, Wizkid sings about Ojuelegba, a middle-class area in Lagos that first witnessed his musical talent, and mused philosophically about life. Still, he also encourages praying when facing uncertainties (“Call on daddy, Baba God / Adura a gba o”)–it was a startling reminder of how deeply the gospel is woven into the fabric of Afropop.
It would take another recession for Gospel to return in force. Around 2016, the Nigerian economy hit a recession due to industrial and infrastructural problems that were exacerbated by a global slump in oil prices. Citizens across Nigeria became poorer, and there was a palpable sense of despair everywhere you turned. As expected in a deeply religious yet imperfect nation, cries to the divine went up. Victor AD’s 2018 hit single, “Wetin We Gain,” is built around soliciting the help of a divine power to assuage his family’s overwhelming needs. That same year, Chinko Ekun bagged a hit with “Able God”, a playful request for showers of blessings in the form of credit alerts. In 2019, veteran Jaywon, too, scored a hit on his remix of “Aje,” teaming up with Barry Jhay and Lyta on a song that voiced their yearning for financial freedom against the backdrop of a crippling economic crisis.
In recent years, sounds from the streets have greatly impacted Afropop, marking another micro-evolution in the genre’s journey. The emergence of street voices has seen the infusion of religion, worship, and prayers deeper into the DNA of the genre. Traditionally, Street-Pop has always leaned on aspirations, hustle culture, and melancholy. The one element that consistently tied all of it together is a belief in divine providence. Some listeners have linked the inception of Street-Pop’s gospel arc to Olamide’s “Jale,” which interpolates the 2004 song “Omije Ojumi” (meaning “Tears of My Eyes”) by ECWA Yoruba Choir Mushin. Others say it’s QDot’s 2013 hit “Alomo Meta,” also dubbed “Orin Emi” – meaning “Song of the Spirit” and commonly associated with the Celestial Church Movement in Nigeria. On the song, QDot employs the signature drum pattern of the Celestial Church and contorts some of their popular songs and melodies into a catchy worldly version that caters to the streetwise sensibilities of his primary audience.
From Barry Jhay to Mohbad, Bella Shmurda, T.I. Blaze, and Seyi Vibez, Street-Pop’s storytelling still thrives on the same tenets. It expounds on trench life, spiritual battles, beliefs in higher powers, their mothers’ fervent prayers, and surviving hard times. Even while admitting that they usually turn to sinning when winning isn’t forthcoming, they still give God all the glory or ask for divine support. The kids may leave the church, but you can’t take the church out of them, especially when they are anchored by their mothers’ prayers.
A common theme that runs through Asake’s unprecedented Afropop takeover is a clear sonic identity built on Gospel-style vocals and a stacked, choir-like back-up. It explains why some of his songs may feel like Sunday morning Thanksgiving meets midnight club turn-up. Over a groovy beat on “Baba God,” Asake dispels naysayers, confident that he’s backed by a supreme being who won’t let him fail. On “Nzaza,” there’s urgency to his supplication and panache to his attitude as he requests a complimentary and exhilarating breakthrough that makes the world stop for him. In colloquial terms, what Asake did on “Nzaza” is known as “acting like your miracle.” His trajectory suggests that his faith worked with his prayers–he is Afropop’s greatest breakout story.
It’s no wonder the core of Street-Pop can be traced back to the first generation of Nigerians who accepted the Pentecostal gospel. They infused their traditional understanding of faith into Christian music in the 1930s. That unbroken lineage of continuity between faith and popular music shows up in Teni Makanaki’s “Malaika,” which is directly inspired by “Eli Eli Jah,” a popular hymn of the Cherubim and Seraphim Church. In the song, Teni is in the spirit of worship and asks for an angel to descend on her or come into her space. Rapper OluwaMillar’s “Opelope Anointing” samples and interpolates Evangelist Dunni Olanrewaju’s 2000 song of the same title in a time-honed tradition of using gospel themes to acknowledge divine intervention.
Sampling and interpolation of Gospel songs in Afropop isn’t new. They reclaim the cultural blend of African traditional music and Christian worship while affirming the artists’ roots, community, history, and spiritual identity. Also, sometimes it’s not just sounds, it’s the language. Asake’s “Peace Be Unto You” borrows heavily from church lingo. Adekunle Gold’s “Ire” is a modern hymn that could close a church service. The link between modern sounds and older, respected forms of expression grounds contemporary Pop in shared heritage. Afropop is far from sanctimonious, but it stays tethered to the gospel. It carries the spiritual essence of African music traditions, and since Gospel music in Africa often blends traditional hymns with Christian messages, Afropop naturally carries the traces of this fusion. The line between the sacred and the secular is fluid in African music, and Afropop truly reflects that.
The Rave Lorde has kept to his word to deliver a summer hit.
Rema has released his highly anticipated new single “Kelebu.” Early last month, the Benin-born star took...
Rema has released his highly anticipated new single “Kelebu.” Early last month, the Benin-born star took to social media to promise an incoming summer release. ‘Still owe y’all that summer Banger,’ he tweeted. Weeks later, he gave more insight about the direction of his forthcoming release, tweeting, ‘Ok.. I want y’all to DANCE this summer!’
After much anticipation, the singer posted a snippet of “Kelebu” in usual fashion, promising $10k for whoever comes up with an easy dance challenge and raising excitement for what is probably about to become a dancefloor staple quickly.
The self-proclaimed Rave Lorde seemed to have favoured a more tempered approach in the last few months, opting for the sheen and soulfulness of R&B on his first two releases of the year. “Baby (Is it a Crime),” which had already taken on a life of its own even before its official release, gives Sade’s 1985 classic “Is It A Crime” an Afropop and R&B facelift, while “Bout U” sounds like it was picked out of a 2004 Marion Winans release.
With the release of “Kelebu,” Rema returns to the familiar chaos of 2024’s ‘HEIS,’ borrowing from an array of genres to create what is, without a doubt, one of his most exhilarating releases to date. Teaming up with close collaborator London and the German-born Ambezza, “Kelebu” takes inspiration from a host of regional genres like Dominica’s Bouyon and Mara, the new Street-Pop subgenre that’s recently come into prominence. There’s also strong Makossa and Coupé-Décalé influences across the track as Rema tears through the riotous beat with breakneck pace.
Whether “Kelebu” fits into a bigger picture oris the start of something new remains to be seen. You can never be too sure with Rema. He could be teasing several Trap-inspired songs one minute, and then go ahead to release a sensual R&B record the next. The Mavin star is somewhat unpredictable, and that’s part of his huge appeal. You’re not certain what comes next, but you’re seated for the ride regardless.
Markers of those places inevitably show up in the music of our favorite stars, enriching our soundscape and...
The concept of origin and heritage has never been more important in Afropop than right now. As the edges of...
The concept of origin and heritage has never been more important in Afropop than right now. As the edges of the sound broaden and influences spring forth from all over, artists are increasingly taking on ambassadorial roles that see them represent the people, attitude, and ideals of where they hail from. Whether by birth or upbringing, artists are intrinsically tied to and influenced by these places where they have spent significant time socialising and soaking up influences. The markers of those places inevitably show up in their music, enriching our soundscape and furthering our collective cultural memory.
Whether it is Olamide putting on for Bariga on “Oga Nla 1” in tandem with Alhaji Wasiu Alabi Pasuma and Lil Kesh or Burna Boy beautifying Port Harcourt on “City Vibration,” we get a glimpse into these places beyond run-of-the-mill news that doesn’t offer a rounded perspective on the inner workings of the community. We are at once witnesses to communal struggles and pain via these artists’ perspectives, as well as willful participants in their ascension to musical superstardom while doing their best to hold on to their communities.
We compiled a list of some artists whose rise and continued success pay homage to the communities that raised them.
Wizkid, Ojuelegba, Surulere
It’s pretty befitting that the quintessential Wizkid song is “Ojuelegba,” a cut from his 2014 sophomore studio album, ‘Ayo’. While the singer has paid homage to his birthplace on a few previous occasions, no song venerates the Lagos suburb quite like “Ojuelegba.” Even as he made the smooth transition from national hero to global superstar shortly after the release of ‘Ayo,’ the album’s standout track continued to serve as a melodious autobiography that helps establish his roots for those unfamiliar. The song’s accompanying music video also captures the suburb’s bustling energy, as well as the unforgiving conditions that produced him. – B.A
Burna Boy, Port Harcourt
One of the many things that Burna Boy speaks with pride about is his native Port Harcourt. He constantly ensures that his city is at the forefront of his craft, dedicating songs that either narrate his experiences in the Garden City or highlight some of the social and political issues plaguing his home city. Songs like “Where I’m From” and “Ph City Vibration,” highlights from his third studio album ‘Outside,’ double as sturdy deep cuts and brief history lessons about Port Harcourt. In late 2022, the pop star also released a short documentary for “Whiskey,” detailing the environmental crisis in his birthplace. – B.A
Olamide, Bariga
No Nigerian artist is as representative of mainland Lagos as Olamide Baddo. Still, even the mainland is not a monolith, as different areas have their quirks and unique colorations. Bariga, Olamide’s neck of the woods, has been an ever-present in his music from the very beginning of his career, providing inspiration and grounding for the street-pop juggernaut who references the lessons learned and tales handed down in his hood. “Money,” the opening track from his sophomore album, ‘YBNL,’ features a bus conductor calling out for passengers to Ladilak, Bariga, forever immortalising the Lagos hood on wax. On “Rep Adugbo” from his incendiary ‘Baddest Guy Ever Liveth,’ he’s similarly unabashed about his dedication to Bariga, its inhabitants, and authority figures. Even superstardom hasn’t dulled those representative instincts: on “Supplier,” from his 2023 album, ‘Unruly,’ he’s keen to remind anyone listening that he carries Bariga with him everywhere he goes. – W.O
Asake, Lagos Island
Asake could only have emerged from the crucible of Lagos Island. There’s something about his carriage that undoubtedly suggests an upbringing in the oldest part of Lagos, and even though he doesn’t always directly reference Lagos Island, the seeds of its influence are in the margin of his work. The back and forth between Islamic and Christian motifs in his work is a legacy of the religiously tolerant culture of Lagos Island, and his slang usage reflects a stint living in the ocean-side community. Perhaps the clearest sign of his connection to Lagos Island came on his third studio album, ‘Lungu Boy,’ a detailing of his come-up story from Lagos Island hopeful to global superstar. On “Uhh Yeahh,” he sings, “Beere mi ni Kakawa,” directly shouting out the popular street in Lagos Island. Visual elements of his tour dates from 2024 also heavily featured and celebrated the streets of Lagos Island as the singer leaned into his heritage. Places like Adeniji Adele, Freedom Park, and Marina were featured, letting the world know that Asake has not forgotten his roots. – W.O
Zlatan, Ikorodu
Zlatan Ibile takes great pride in giving game to ambitious young hustlers looking to move beyond the current situation of their lives. His rise from Ikorodu hoodrat to Nigerian Hip-Hop royalty is the stuff of legend, but the stories of his woes, troubles, and sufferings in Ikorodu keenly display the relentlessness and dogged determination that saw Zlatan make a name for himself. He’s keen to reminisce on those days from time to time. On “Elevated,” off SuperWozzy’s 2021 ‘Light Of The Trenches,’ he sings, “Won fe k’enu mi gbe seh, biti church rat/ Mo moyan pupo n’Ikorodu ton ti te Shoprite,” reflecting on the lack that plagues huge swathes of Ikorodu. It’s a similar impulse that births his verse on Ajebo Hustlers’ “Dreams II,” which features a reference to his mischievous streak growing in Ikorodu. – W.O
Rema, Ekenhuan Road, Benin
If the syrupy trap-adjacent flow Rema employed on his introductory project or his incursions into diverse genres on several occasions since then have fooled you, his 2023 album, ‘HEIS,’ was a defiant reclamation of his identity as a Benin boy. To be fair, ‘HEIS’ didn’t just drop out of the blues; the Mavin singer had been preparing his audience for that home-leaning lurch since he stepped on stage adorned in a replica of the iconic mask of storied Benin royal, Queen Idia, during his first sold-out concert at the O2 Arena in London.
Reminding his audience of the painful history of British incursion in Benin, Rema set the stage for ‘HEIS,’ an album steeped in Benin-specific lore and acts of remembrance. “BENIN BOYS,” his blockbuster collaboration with Shallipopi, could not have passed the message of his origin better. Featuring a shoutout to his old neighbourhood, Ekenhuan Road, and an urge to the Oba to award him a medal, “BENIN BOYS” is a larger-than-life celebration of his city. Taken together with the rage-inducing “OZEBA,” it was a spiritual return home for one of Benin’s most iconic sons that showcased his identity for the world to see. – W.O
Seyi Vibez, Ikorodu
No one puts on for Ikorodu quite like Seyi Vibez. While the singer was originally born in Ketu, it’s in Ikorodu that he honed his craft as a skilled musician. He’s referenced his upbringing and Ikorodu specifically in a lot of his earlier interviews and songs, and it’s in that same administrative division that he put together his first show that pulled a crowd of about 200 people. The singer returned in 2023 for a free homecoming concert as a way to celebrate and give back to the community that helped kickstart and support his musical journey. He’s continued to rep Ikorodu even in recent times, most notably on his hit record “Shaolin.”– B.A
Mohbad, Ikorodu
Mohbad was one of Ikorodu’s crown jewels. In August 2023, just about a month before his passing, the singer posted a video of himself on Instagram visiting his old neighbourhood in Ikorodu. He went around distributing gifts and reconciling with longtime friends without any security, interacting organically with a community that regarded him as one of their own. He put on for his community just as much as they did for him. After his unfortunate passing, the youth rallies that were organised in Ikorodu to commemorate and demand justice for his death highlighted just how important he was to one of Lagos’s most populous hubs. – B.A
Shallipopi, Sapele Road, Benin
Even if his golden drawl and sonorous pidgin didn’t betray his Benin heritage, Shallipopi wouldn’t pretend to be from anywhere else but his hometown. That Benin heritage is in how Shallipopi perceives the world, the way he talks, and, particularly, how he approaches his music. “Obapluto,” the standout on his debut project, ‘Planet Pluto,’ features a prominent sample of Pa Monday Edo’s “Ogbaisi,” an homage to the Oba of Benin. It’s a trick he repeated on “ASAP,” off his sophomore album, ‘Shakespopi,’ sampling Alhaji Waziri Oshomah’s “Ikwekiame Nedumhe.” The chorus of his 2025 hit single is almost entirely sung in Bini, displaying the reverence that Shallipopi has for Benin – W.O.
Omah Lay, Port Harcourt
On the opener of Omah Lay’s critically acclaimed debut album ‘Boy Alone,’ he’s unequivocal about where he’s from. ‘All of the way from Port Harcourt/Water Side,’ he sings proudly, emphasising the city that shaped his music and creative voice. Throughout the album, he makes multiple other references to his background, whether it’s singing in his native Ikweere language or name-dropping neighbourhoods like the Marine Base area. In a Hypebeast interview from 2022, the singer spoke about his city with similar pride. “Port Harcourt is different from the rest of Nigeria in the way that we talk, eat– everything. It’s really different. All of that definitely influenced my music so much because it was really tough growing up in Port Harcourt, but that experience made me who I am today. I’ll never forget that or stop repping my city.” – B.A
On “Hot Body,” Ayra Starr sings with the relaxed certitude of a woman in command of her sexuality and...
All year, Ayra Starr’s music, visual aesthetic, and social media presence have shown us a new version of...
All year, Ayra Starr’s music, visual aesthetic, and social media presence have shown us a new version of her. She seems to be outgrowing the teenager we met in 2021, and molding her grown woman identity right in our presence. In the video for “Gimme Dat,” her second single of the year, featuring Wizkid, we see the red convertible that featured on the cover for her 2024 album, ‘TYIT21,’ and extensively across music videos from that era being blown up into a crisp. It seemingly symbolised the end of one era and the birth of “Hot Body” and everything it represents.
When Ayra was introduced, her music explored themes tied to youth and the emotional fragility that comes with navigating that period of your life. The ‘19 and Dangerous’ era showed us a self-confident teenager who was sure of who she wanted to be. However, “Hot Body” signals something entirely different. Produced by Ragee with additional input from The Elements, it’s crystal clear from the first listen that Ayra is owning her allure and agency.
Employing a rhythm that feels retro-made for a cross between GRWM prep with the girls and sweaty dancefloor shifts, her vocal delivery feels almost like an incantation. It’s seductive. She’s fully in control of your gaze and even dictates what you do with it. On “Hot Body,” Ayra Starr sings with the relaxed certitude of a woman in command of her sexuality and space.
Her performance here is rife with context. Having graduated from teenage histrionics on ‘19 & Dangerous’ to the introspective, emotional maturity of her 2024 sophomore album, ‘The Year I Turned 21,’ Ayra Starr has grown not only in voice, but in message and presence. ‘The Year I Turned 21’ charted at No. 1 across DSPs in Nigeria and cracked the US Billboard 200, making her the first Nigerian female artist to enter that chart. This is a clear marker of her ascension into adulthood, and we can hear it in the music and see it in its visual accompaniment.
“Hot Body” feels like the logical next step after ‘The Year I Turned 21.’ Where that record explored vulnerability, grief, ambition, and identity, “Hot Body” distills the confidence born from that journey into a potent, sensual exhale. She’s no longer defining herself against the world; instead, she’s defining how the world should perceive her.
Lyrically, “Hot Body” is playful but bold, with just enough suggestion to feel grown and sexy without losing the thrill of young self‑discovery. Sonically, it’s sleek and minimalist, yet it’s brimming with the palpable charm of some of the best music of the 2000s–think Beyoncé and Sean Paul’s “Baby Boy” or Rihanna’s “Rehab.”
The rollout for the song matched its effortless energy. A snippet on TikTok and Instagram teased an accompanying dance to the song, and fans responded instantly, turning the anticipation into instant engagement. Capped at two minutes, it’s a release primed for our era of bite‑size virality: short, immediate, and boasting insane replay value.
Yet, what distinguishes “Hot Body” from many viral tracks is the assuredness of Ayra’s journey. She stormed charts with “Rush,” became the youngest Nigerian woman to surpass 100 million YouTube views, and earned a Grammy nomination for it–a badge of early achievement and youthful potential.
That youth is now transfigured. On “Hot Body,” Ayra embodies her new identity. What once sounded like a prophecy has become her reality: global collaborations, awards, stadium stages, modeling runways, and a major film role all fit into a broader canvas that her early self prayed for. “Hot Body” sits at the convergence of Ayra’s journey. It’s youthful swagger that has mutated into deliberate elegance; curious vulnerability solidified into mastery; and ambition shaped into ownership.
“Hot Body” is made for the dancefloor, but when you’re alone, it’s the perfect backdrop for the walk of recognition in a well-lit room as you give yourself flowers. Ayra tells us in this song that she knows who she is, what she looks like, and that’s enough.