In his new column for The NATIVE, ‘Wale in the Wild’, culture writer Wale Oloworekende digs into the boisterous tapestry of Nigerian pop, offering a series of contextualised and personalised essays on the relationship between the music, its points of origin and how it all ties together into the Nigerian experience. This inaugural essay takes a personal look at the rise and rise of Zinoleesky, through the lens of society, genius lyricism and personal experiences.
The truth is that there are very few things that I hold as sacred as the court of music I keep with my friends these days. I think that what this means more than anything is that, on the most bleary days, one by one, from places that are most unlike each other, we emerge at each other’s houses and, sometimes, we speak on the troubles that keep us awake at night; other times these conversations are had over a glass of wine or whatever can numb the pain enough to allow the words to form in our throats. But most importantly, on the days when talking is too strenuous or the weight of words threatens to break our backs, we play music.
One thing I have noticed about the music that we spin is its consistent ability to leave us enthralled. I have yet to see a problem, with the notable exception of death and its many variants, that music hasn’t seen us through or at least started us on a path to feeling better. Even with death, all we ask is that the music goes high enough, the liquor stays flowing longer than usual, and we can start to imagine a way out of any painful labyrinth.
In discussion, my friends and I have often playfully tried to localise where things started–or at least appear–to go awry in our generation, and, being frank, many of us point to the gloom of 2020 as a portent of sorts. 2020 was a wild and anxious year in many respects. Almost as soon as we attuned ourselves to the social distancing and stay-at-home regimen of the COVID-19 pandemic, we were being forced to pour ourselves out into the streets to protest a rogue institution that seemed fixated with the forcible neutering of young black bodies. Many times in 2020, it was hard to take a look over your shoulder and not feel a hovering sense of sadness.
That said, here is another fact about 2020 that I think you should know: In the first two weeks of that year, I compiled a scatter-brained list of artists to watch out for in the year for a nice outlet I used to work for and I put Zinoleesky on the list.
By the time 2020 was biding its final farewell, Zinoleesky was on his way to music superstardom, off the bank of a string of hit songs that distilled his brand of cool, brooding music into a clarion call for a generation facing its toughest moment, while sneaking in tidbits of his ghetto gospel. From “Ma Pariwo” to “Kilofese,” Zinoleesky seemed to be presciently aware of what the zeitgeist needed to be saying at any particular time he released new music.
Since then, Zinoleesky has become an immutable part of the Afropop galaxy, as he has moved from songs like “Naira Marley” to “Gone Far” to “Blessings.” I think it is impossible to talk about the narrative of Zinoleesky’s career without turning our gaze on who he is and where he came from. Many times in the last 18 months or so, I have wondered about the specific anecdotes that line his music and the all-too-casual elegance with which he has leaned into his role as the de-facto voice of a generation of ghetto kids. I imagine that it is a hard task to be Zinoleesky, to make the crux of your art inspiring people that many others would rather not see. But by any estimation, there are roles that become you and there are roles that you become when there are no outlets to tell the specific stories that you want to tell.
*****
At this specific moment, there is no sub-genre that waters Nigerian pop’s ever-evolving cast of slangs, lingo, and euphemisms with the regularity that street-pop does. What this means is that you can barely walk down any road in this country and not hear Mohbad tell you of how he wakes up at 4:30am to get to whatever activity might put some food on his table for the day, or see Bella Shmurda perform “Cash App,” with all the controversy that the track invites, to 20,000 people who are screaming it back word-for-word at the 02, while lost in the madcap delirium that I must imagine follows the performance of such a track in a huge sea of people coming together to bathe in the glow of music.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that street-pop is here to stay and I know this because it has crossed over into the places that I would never have seen it going into even five years ago. But if you were paying attention as far back as 2019, it might have been easy to at least not be surprised by this current trajectory of street pop. Every other week in the third quarter of 2019, we’d wake up to a new viral video from a bunch of street rappers domiciled in Agege, rapping about the survivalist conditions of life in the place that they call home.
The responses to these videos broadly fell into two categories: first, there were those whose direct lived experiences were referenced in those freestyles whose fire emoji comments littered the comment sections of those rising rappers, egging them on with every fibre of their being; then there were those who looked upon this rising tide with bemusement, unsure what to make of these rappers who were really Fuji-inspired singers at heart.
Of all the rappers we saw on our phone screens from Agege in 2019, Zinoleesky was the one who seemed most uncomfortable with the strictures of rap as a medium, the one more likely to break into an intuitive spurt of melody to bookend his raps that resembled the readings of a poet in residence. I think that the dominant thought about Zinoleesky, about Agege, about street-pop in general at that point, was that this too shall pass. That whatever was being done on that side of town would eventually tide over and Nigerian pop would continue its unstoppable rise to international ubiquity with street pop as nothing but a side note of that trajectory. The point I’m trying to make is that Zinoleesky is of people that are dreamers, eternally optimistic, forever building, and ready to burst at the seams, regardless of whatever institutional barrier is stacked against them.
I have spent countless hours over the last two years considering what might be Zinoleesky’s greatest skill, and I have come to the conclusion that it is in how he put his own distinct interpretation on feelings of hopelessness while finding a way to localize joy in the midst of all that despair. There is something to be said about someone that gives a voice to this instinct of the oppressed, but it is another thing to urge the same people to find a way to look past all the worries in their life and keep at their life with any sort of joy.
One time last year, I was in Computer Village and I must assume that my audience knows that Computer Village, functioning as a microcosm of Lagos, is not the most optimistic of places, but late in the afternoon “Gone Far” came on in the section of the market where I was hiding away from a heavy downpour and men who may or may not be looking to pick pockets stopped for a second to acknowledge the genius of Zino while doing their best impression of smiles while singing the line “more money, more respect” heartily. And I suppose this says something about the origin of the music that originally inspired Zinoleesky and his incredible ability to propel its aura forward. Last year during a conversation in an almost empty car lot in Ikoyi, the singer sheepishly admitted to me that the music of icons like Pasuma and Saheed Osupa were some of the biggest inspiration on his life. If truth be told, in a moment when Nigerian pop is moving beyond the physical locale of its origin to touch an almost unquantifiable audience, Zinoleesky’s voice is more important than ever. It’s the voice of Lagos, singing the music that keeps us alive and vitalizes us.
*****
One time in between smoking whatever remained of a blunt and sipping some bacardi, one of my friends described Zinoleesky’s “Naira Marley” as a breathtaking work of poetry. He’s right. There’s something achingly expressive about the breath, cadence, and lines that Zinoleesky employed in that song. Even the most cynical of us must admit that there’s something redemptive about a mother’s love. I know this because many times my mother’s love has pulled me back from whatever gapping abyss has threatened to swallow me whole. Half of the time when we’re listening to Zinoleesky play, I must admit to you that we’re high as shit. I must also tell you that Nigeria is after our lives in many ways that we cannot often describe, but the truth is that we remain present, alive, warm bodies fighting for each other as best as we can because all we have is the music and one another.
I have grown to be accustomed to the Nigerian institution being a supreme bully that will come after anybody that doesn’t fit their linear narratives about how one should present themselves so I was not mighty surprised when officers of the NDLEA invaded the living space of Zinoleesky and members of Marlian music. Most of that night, while doing whatever it is to numb the pain of the previous day, all I can feel is an abiding sense of disconsolation. I would be a hypocrite if I say there’s anything revolutionary about Zinoleesky being thrown in jail by the Nigerian institution, but there is a silent message I assume in who was invaded and how overwhelmingly quiet the Internet space appeared; how there was a very strong possibility that we could just move on as though nothing happened.
It is a humid March night and Zinoleesky is bantering on stage at Obafemi Awolowo University’s amphitheater. For those who don’t know, there is defiance baked into the very fiber of OAU, and it seemed almost like an act of divinity that Zinoleesky’s first public performance post-NDLEA drama should come there. Performing to an overly-euphoric set of listeners, Zinoleesky instructs the DJ to play “Blessings,” his smash hit with producer, Niphkeys, and the words, “Don’t know why I’m always thinking about tomorrow,” float perfectly into the air against the cascading backdrop of more than six thousand people shouting the words back.
If truth be told, me and my niggas are not perfect, we make mistakes upon mistakes, till we happen on whatever decisions and results we can live with. But we live in the essence of music, we pray at the altar of Zinoleesky and all the other radiant children of Nigerian pop. I want to believe that music is the weapon now more than anything, music is the weapon for our continued existence, especially when we are high and need something to line our mouths.
For the next phase of her career, Skyla Tylaa is actively working on creating music while entertaining with...
As a child growing up in South-east London, Skyla Tylaa had a natural affinity for the arts. Whether it was...
As a child growing up in South-east London, Skyla Tylaa had a natural affinity for the arts. Whether it was music or stage performances, she found herself exploring these interests intently from a young age. That devotion manifested in multiple ways – her attending the BRIT School and Sylvia Young Theatre School where she performed in a West End production of Annie or her fiddling with several musical instruments while she figured out her creative identity. Through it all, music was a constant, the backdrop to her home life where she grew up between Jamaican and English influences. She remembers being exposed to Drum & Bass, Funky House, and Garage. “I think that’s had a big influence in my DJ career,” Skyla Tylaa admits.
Progressing into adulthood, those musical influences persisted even if she didn’t always engage with them professionally. Things changed when she started DJ-ing during the COVID-19 pandemic. Possessed by a visceral desire to experience the euphoria of interacting with people through music, she burrowed deeper into DJ-ing. “I couldn’t be in my room and just have people commenting,” she recalls. “I need to see people’s energy, and feel everything in the moment.”
Since then, she’s enjoyed a meteoric rise that has taken the world by storm. Mentored by DJ Tunez, she performed multiple times on the American leg of Wizkid’s ‘Made In Lagos’ tour and came out of the experience raring to go. “Opening for Wizkid on his tour was a transformative experience,” she says. “It taught me a lot about resilience and adaptability in my craft. I was still pretty much a start-up DJ when I went on tour and it made me really realise how important it is to connect with the audience. Touring from city to city with different crowds, it helped me to learn how to read the room and keep the vibe going.”
Almost as importantly for Skyla Tylaa, Rihanna was present at one of those tour stops and was impressed by her set, stopping by after the show to congratulate her. “After that I felt like I could conquer the world,” she says. Since then, she’s been selected by Rihanna to DJ at a Fenty X Puma Creeper launch event in London in 2024, marking a full-circle moment between the women.
Like Rihanna, Skyla Tylaa is inspired by music from the breadth of the Black diaspora, playing sets that take as much influence from the fervid restlessness of Hip-hop as they do the wavy melodies of House music, and the dancefloor summons of Afrobeats “I love partying! I genuinely love it,” she explains. “When preparing my sets, I’m always thinking of people having a good time. Whatever I can do to connect with them, I’m down to do it!”
In the last few years, few genres have shown the propensity for inspiring a great time with the regularity that Amapiano does. From Johannesburg to Windhoek, to Lagos, London, and New York, the log drums and mutating basslines of the genre have proven integral to a new Pop framework that is as amorphous as it is exhilarating. Since first hearing the genre while on a visit to Ghana years ago, Skyla Tylaa has been hooked. “It was the log drum, the sound, just the vibes that came with it,” she says. “I was like ‘wait – what is this?’ When you hear Amapiano, it’s one of those sounds that no matter what, you’re gonna dance.”
Diving into the genre, she’s picked up valuable lessons from important figures like Maphorisa, Uncle Vinny and Major League DJz while putting her youthful spin on the sound. It’s all coming together for the DJ who’s working with her sister, music heavyweight Jada Pollock, to figure it all out one step at a time. “When I found my passion for DJing, Jada was right there, urging me to dive into the ‘Made in Lagos’ tour,” she says. “I wasn’t sure I was ready, but she believed in me and knew I could handle it. My love for music has been with me since school; it just took some time for me to realize that this was the direction I wanted to pursue. Once I found my calling, her support became endless–she attended my early gigs and pushed me to perform at major festivals like Afro Nation.”
She’s since performed at leading festivals such as Wireless, Piano People and Australia’s Promiseland as well as selling out headline shows across London, London, and Ghana. For the next phase of her career, she’s actively working on creating music. This month, she released her debut single, “Bombshell,” a searing Amapiano banger that has all the hallmarks of a potential summer hit. “Bombshell” features Tanzanian Bongo Flava act, Diamond Platnumz, as well as South African acts, Tyler ICU, Khalil Harrison, and DJ Exit. It’s a blockbuster showing that sits well in the tradition of the genre. “The idea was initially played to me by Tyler ICU in March 2024,” Skyla Tylaa says. “He and I had a session while he was in London, and this was one of the ideas we worked on. Khalil was already on it, at the time, and I loved what I heard!”
After seeding it into her live sets last summer and starting live teasers with a dance challenge, Diamond Platnumz reached out about potentially working on the song and it was arranged. “I started teasing the new version of the song in my sets and then a whole new viral dance challenge came about online in December,” she says. “From that point, I knew the track had all the elements (features included) to be a big release in 2025 !” For DJ Exit, a chance to be part of a transformative song like “Bombshell” was an opportunity he didn’t want to pass up. “What drew me to this single was the chance to be part of something boundary-breaking,” he explains. “Gqom and Amapiano are both powerful in their own right, but fusing the raw, percussive energy of Gqom with the soulful, hypnotic swing of Amapiano creates a sound the world hasn’t fully experienced yet. This isn’t just another collaboration–it’s a cultural statement.”
The Xhosa word, ‘basazomangala,’ meaning ‘to be shocked,’ is uttered several times on “Bombshell,” and it reflects the message that Harrison was trying to pass on the track. ““Bombshell” is really about letting people know that there’s still so much more to come from me,” he says. “It’s a celebration of the present moment, but also a reminder that this is just the beginning. We’re all dancing to what’s happening now, but there’s an energy in the air that says the best is yet to come.”
In light of Amapiano’s rise to global prominence and the international acclaim it enjoys, Harrison is right about more things being on the horizon, and Skyla Tylaa agrees with him: “When I was introduced to Amapiano, I fell in love instantly and that time it was just on the verge of global appeal. It’s global now and still growing and that makes me appreciate it even more! I love it, and the world loves it! The feeling is mutual ! We can all enjoy it together!”
For Tyler ICU, having DJs from the diaspora like Skyla Tylaa engage with Amapiano and its culture is a win for the genre. “This shows the power of the genre–it’s not just a sound, it’s a movement,” he says. “When someone like Skyla, who appreciates the culture and brings her own flavour, plays Amapiano in places like London, New York or Toronto, she’s not just playing music, she’s building bridges. That’s how we grow–by letting the world feel it in their own way, but staying true to where it started. It’s important that the roots are respected, but the branches can reach far.”
Just a couple of weeks since its release, “Bombshell” has crossed over 650,000 thousand views on YouTube and continues to be a sensation on TikTok. Like everything Skyla Tylaa has done up till now in her career, it’s shaping up perfectly and has shown that she has a knack for the right collaborations. She intends to keep making music. “This year, my focus is all about music,” she says. “I recently signed with Robots and Humans (Sony) in the UK and Epic in the US, which has given me a different level of drive to really want to create good music. I’m also looking forward to exploring the Afro-house genre and collaborating with other talented artists.”
The rapper’s decision to embark on a local university tour of this nature could go on to become a...
There’s no denying that OdumoduBlvck’s 2023 mixtape ‘Eziokwu’ established his musical genius. While...
There’s no denying that OdumoduBlvck’s 2023 mixtape ‘Eziokwu’ established his musical genius. While the half dozen projects that preceded ‘Eziokwu’ almost served as target practice, largely showcasing the early iterations of Okporoko music – his unique melodious rap fusion – it was his major label debut that truly grounded the rapper in Nigeria’s rich Hip-Hop lineage. The album’s far-reaching success culminated in a historic joint tour with fellow 2023 breakout star Shallipopi, which saw the two share the stage across 9 cities in the United States. Similarly, riding the high of his latest mixtape, ‘The Machine Is Coming,’ the Anti-World Gangstar head huncho recently announced a new tour. This time, however, instead of taking his new collection of infectious bangers to stages abroad, the rapper decided to visit different universities across the country for what he calls the ‘Greatest School Tour Ever.’
Touring in Nigeria is a subject that has become somewhat controversial over the last few years, splitting opinions amongst many fans, industry experts, and artists themselves. Back in the mid-2000s to early 2010s, local touring was very much the norm. Platforms like Star Music’s ‘The Trek,’ as well as a few prominent local promoters, enabled some of the biggest names like 2face, Olamide, and M.I to hold annual nationwide tours. These tours included stops in cities like Warri, Makurdi, Owerri and many other places that artists are less likely to visit today. University tours were also popular as they presented an avenue for these artists to connect with their younger audience, who mostly served as the bedrock of their fan base.
The rise of digital streaming platforms, which has partly informed the industry’s rapid evolution over the past decade, coupled with other economic and infrastructural issues, has, however, forced a sharp decline in local touring, making it an almost altruistic endeavour in today’s Nigeria. Afropop gaining global exposure meant that the international market immediately became more viable and lucrative to our biggest stars, and this reshaped their priorities. The extensive, multi-city shows became reserved for diaspora fans, while the local audience, in most cases, are treated to a solitary annual show.
OdumoduBlvck looks to buck this trend with the ‘Greatest School Tour Ever,’ prioritizing his primary audience before tending to those abroad. In truth, the Lagos-born rapper is not the only one who has embarked on this type of tour in recent times. A couple of years ago, UK-based rapper Kida Kudz and Ckay also went on similar campus tours, with the latter making stops at 10 different universities across the country. Llona, one of the breakout stars from last year, is also currently on a nationwide tour coming off the success of his impressive debut album ‘Homeless.’ The ‘Greatest School Tour Ever,’ is however, peculiar and momentous because of its timing and OdumoduBlvck’s standing as one of the biggest names around.
At the recent 17th Headies Awards, the rapper became the latest recipient of the Next Rated award, a highly coveted plaque that’s historically reserved for standout acts whose music defines the zeitgeist at a given period. He received the award just two days after he gave an electrifying performance at Afe Babalola University. His latest mixtape, ‘The Machine Is Coming,’ a precursor to his highly anticipated forthcoming debut, currently sits at the No. 2 spot on the Turntable Top 50 Album charts. It is unheard of in recent times: that the Headies Next Rated act, who has one of the top projects in the country, is on a local university tour. The Abuja-native has, however, shown on numerous occasions that he has never really been one to abide by existing standards. The famous opening lines from his breakout single “Declan Rice” (I can do without their Policy I Know), did not only serve as a message to gatekeepers and naysayers but also as a manifesto that declared his mode of operation going forward.
At the time of this writing, the rapper has only made two stops on his ongoing tour, but his decision to embark on a local tour of this nature already looks to be paying dividends. The first two shows have produced viral clips that capture his star power, the hysteria of his headline shows and his rapidly growing influence, especially amongst younger listeners. The viral clips have already created an increased demand for shows, with many young fans harassing the rapper to add more dates to the tour. With the release of ‘The Machine Is Coming’ and his recent crowning moment at the Headies, it’s safe to assume there’s more attention on him now than ever. While it is, of course, still early days, the rapper’s decision to embark on a local university tour, especially given that he’s currently experiencing a career high, could go on to become a significant moment, one that potentially inspires a shift in the touring landscape in Nigeria.
From working her way out of London’s Myatt’s Field, Tanika is now setting her sights on the bright lights...
Across a career that's in its second decade, Tanika has proven to be a force in her own right, holding her...
Across a career that’s in its second decade, Tanika has proven to be a force in her own right, holding her own on collaborations with Black British stars like Stormzy and Wretch 32, as well as popular record producer Naughty Boy–working with the Grammy-nominated beatmaker on his acclaimed ‘Hotel Cabana’ album.
Following a stint as an actor, she returned to the studio in 2021, releasing a new extended play, ‘333,’ in 2023. The project carried all the hallmarks of Tanika at her tantalising best: lilting cadences, well-paced narratives, a songwriting that reaches for the heart of the matter.
On her latest song, “Fast Fwd,” she’s growing into her own and stepping into a new era. In many ways, “Fast Fwd,” a hypnotic, sultry anthem, is landing just in time for summer revelry. Produced by her longtime collaborator, Naughty Boy, her silky vocals land effortlessly on the mid-tempo instrumental and pulsates with her desire for her love interest.
Joined on the song by her fiancé, Kida Kudz, they make an interesting duo and replicate the synergy they had on “Nobody,” off Kudz’s 2021 ‘Top Memba.’ Distinctively marked by use of neon lights, the video for the song captures the effervescence of romance that Tanika hums about throughout the song.
From working her way out of London’s Myatt’s Field to becoming a star with millions of streams, Tanika is now setting her sights on the bright lights of superstardom. Ahead of the official release of the single, we had a brief chat with Tanika about her career, the influences for “Fast Fwd,” and working with KIda Kudz on it.
Her answers, which follow below, have been lightly edited for clarity.
How would you describe where you are in your career right now?
I’m just enjoying the journey.
What does the release of “Fast Fwd” signify for you?
It signifies love.
Why is Kida Kudz a fit for the song? (
To be honest, we didn’t plan to do another song together. I have worked on two records with him before (“Nobody” and “Tasty Time” ) but we never thought to shoot a video for it.. “Fast Fwd” felt like a real testimony of our present moment in the relationship.
You’ve worked extensively with Naughty Boy and he’s helped with “Fast Fwd,” what’s your relationship like and why does it work?
Naughty Boy knows me very well. We’ve known one another for over 10 years, so he knows what fits me musically. We gel. I think him knowing me and being a fan of Kida’s music made it all work. Naughty Boy does his listening before he makes a beat for you. A lot of producers don’t really understand the importance of knowing the artist musically but he does.
What were you aiming for with the video?
To be honest, I’m aiming for nothing. I’m just enjoying the journey. It’s been a very long road and I know I still have a long way to go.