Nigerians, much like the country we come from, can be varying reiterations of the same living, breathing paradox. One of the best examples is in how we view our attitude – Any description of Nigerians that does not use the word ‘resilient’ often feels incomplete, yet we have unimaginably short fuses.
Ever walked through Ojuelegba on a Monday evening, preferably between the hours of 5 to 6 pm? You can almost taste the anger in the air, whether it manifests as car horns tooting unnecessarily or frustrated office goers trying to find their way back home in time to manage 2.3 hours of sleep.
If you’re lucky enough, you might even catch a fight or two. Did you hear that short burst of noise followed by a heavy thud and then even more noise? That’s the fight. It already happened.
Nigerians get angry at just about everything. But older Nigerians – well, they’re in a class all their own. We could chalk it down to a number of things, but what matters is that they like things a certain way.
Never mind that this ‘way’ is like the Manchester United way, a myth that is only usefuul for criticising perceived slights. When things don’t go the way an older Nigerian wants, you will know.
Sometimes, as in one case that involved a certain Nigerian Nobel Prize winner and Tony One Week, they begin by acting like they’re angry on behalf of other people. But do not be deceived – as we’ve learned from our mothers and fathers, it can be beautiful to watch, except more often than not, like the bicep-tattoo guy from this story, you’ll end up being blamed for everything, even if you were completely within your rights.
To avoid stories that touch, many of us have had to learn the inner working of the older Nigerian’s mind since we first tried to hand our parents money with our left hands and spent the remaining week wondering if we were adopted.
We want to help you too – that’s why we put together a few things that are sure to annoy any Nigerian. I would advise you to not do these things, but seeing as you may be Nigerian too, just do as you wish. I’m not trying to annoy you either.
Tell Them To Line Up In A Queue
Nigerians live by our own laws – and we make them up as we go. It’s not that we are allergic to queues. It’s just that we know there are faster ways to get inside that bus than asking people to line up.
When you’re younger, it may involve flying in through the window. But when you’ve lived up to 60 years in this endless re-enactment of “12 Years A Slave”, the average Pa Bayo believes he’s earned the right to jump the queue and just get what you need done. Woe betide you if you dare ask him to respect the line? What could you ever know about respect?
Show Them That You Don’t Know Who They Are
This is how 90% of fights that happen in traffic get escalated. Random guy bashes other random guy’s car. The two begin a shouting match, then the older man hits turbo mode, beats his chest, raises his hands and shouts to the high heavens, “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?”.
No, we don’t, oga. Nobody does. Who you epp? Who are you? Do you have grey hair and stories of fighting in the Burma War that just don’t add up given you’re still alive? No? Now that you’ve been stupid enough to ask, kindly enjoy the endless trolling you just earned yourself.
Ask For Your Seat Back
Kindly see the Twitter post below. May God save us from fighting on behalf of people who did not send us message.
Nigerian billionaire politician, Tonye Cole , shares his flight experience about a young man who 'disrespected' professor Wole Soyinka by asking for his allotted seat which the prof sat on. pic.twitter.com/JZjfG7Xxx0
Or worse still, do something that shows you do not acknowledge or regard their presence. See, respect is to older Nigerians what croissants are to the French and Pasta is to Italians. That’s why the preferred Yoruba way of greeting older people can range from a slowed-down push-up to lying down with legs flailing like a beached whale.
I’m convinced that Nigerians have a secret pouch that you collect when we turn 30 where allows us to collect respect throughout the day and convert it into dollars or something. That’s the only explanation.
Serve an older Nigerian food without obstacles
‘Obstacles’ or ‘motivation’ is slang for the random, often lonely piece of meat or fish that motivates the average Nigerian to finish his/her meal. Never mind that in other climes, meat and fish are major parts of people’s diets as opposed to the way we present them as the cherry on the top of a giant bowl of rice.
God forbid you serve an older relative their food without meat; on the rare occasion that it’s unavoidable, you’ll have to apologise in person before serving the food. When you don’t, if they’re nice enough to not insult you in person, you’ll see it in the Church or Family Whatsapp group in a matter of weeks. Don’t ask how.
Having a Foreigner Insult The Country
No one knows how shitty Nigeria is more than the people who come from here, for obvious reasons. So kindly explain why we should allow a foreigner to leave their own country and drag our own through the mud? Answer na!
The funny thing about this is that we could well argue that the older generation of Nigerians oversaw our descent into the abyss – and many of them agree. But here’s the thing – they might not like the men in charge of our country’s affairs or how they’re running the country, they may drag us and our name in the mud in their Whatsapp BCs on a daily basis, But please be informed that they are the only people allowed to do these things. This thing should be in the official Nigeria Travel Guide even.
What other ways do you know to annoy just about any older Nigerian? What did we leave out? Let us know in that box below..
There’s so much music out there that it’s hard for even the most loyal fans to stay up with their favourite artists or what’s new and hot right now. That’s why we’ve created #BumpThis – a daily series that features the one song you need to listen to, every day. Don’t say we never did anything for you.
It was 2011 when Wizkid and Olamide – seemingly predestined to be Afropop’s next torchbearers – made “Omo To Shan”, a rap/sung collaboration that embodied the nuances of that year’s popular hit songs.
Eight years later, the duo’s reunion on “Totori” – while not their first since the days when Wizkid slept and woke in snapbacks – is the perfect representation of just how much the sound they helped build on and export throughout their respective careers has evolved.
“Totori” is not remarkable for the reasons that superstar collabs often are; instead, the two, now icons with the numbers and cultural impact to show for it, emphasise the traits that have given them their longevity.
All Wizkid needs is a mid-tempo beat with the right pre-hook pause and he will have your body dancing while your mind works overtime trying to figure what he’s talking about. Olamide is deep in his pocket on this one – he’s always willing to vividly describe his antics with women, real or imagined.
The real stars of the show are behind the scenes. ID Cabasa – the iconic producer who introduced Olamide to the world – delivers an evergreen, reggae-inspired beat that both artists find a home on, years after he did the same on “Omo To Shan”.
In the music video for “Totori”, Director T. G Omori builds a restrained portrait of Nigerian street culture – complete with colours, references to style and scores of kids gathering for a night’s entertainment in front of a lone TV screen.
Together, the four seem to capture 10 years worth of evolution in the space of three-odd minutes. Take it all in. It took a lot to get here.
On Friday the 28th of June a video of Busola Dakolo, a celebrity photographer was released across all of YNaija’s platforms.
17 years after her, she was finally sharing the story of her sexual assault and calling out her assaulter. Reactions to the video were swift. While majority of people sympathised, the usual questions that follow reports of rape and sexual assault in Nigeria started to trickle in.
Why is she just coming out now? How do we know she’s saying the truth? What was she wearing? It didn’t help that her alleged assaulter was Biodun Fatoyinbo the head pastor at COZA. His congregation and many Nigerians see him as a man of God, anointed. As far as they were concerned he could do no wrong.
The most recurring question, however, was ‘Why did it take her so long to speak about it’. This question is often used to try and disparage women who finally find the strength to talk about their assault.
When people ask this question, they also imply that if the victim had spoken out sooner they’d believe her. To discount this, I spoke with eight women and asked them to share with me how long after their assault if ever, it took them to talk about it. And how the people they shared their stories with reacted.
6 years
I was eighteen when it happened, my first year in Uni. The first time I told anyone was 6 years later when I was 2 years into a very serious relationship. He was very big on openness and I confided in him. We broke up a couple of months after. I think he thought it was my fault.
1 year
It took a year. There was this story trending on the internet that day some vile man had been raping his daughter for years and they finally caught him. My friends were talking about it, and I just kind of broke down. They were very supportive.
7 months
7 months. It’s funny because I never thought I’d be able to talk about it. I never planned to, I had just filed it away in my head as something that never happened. Then I attended Ake festival in 2017 and there was a session about sexual violence and all these strong women were telling their stories. I couldn’t say mine in public but I confided in my friends that day.
14 years
14 years. When I was ten our house help used to put her fingers in me and just touch me inappropriately she stayed with us for a couple of months and my mum let her go when she found out she was stealing. But I never told anyone about it. For the longest time, I felt guilty about it, I knew it was wrong I just didn’t realise I wasn’t the one at fault until I turned 24. I told my best friend after she shared that something similar had happened to her.
8 years
8 years. I got raped by my Uncle when I was 15. He was my mother’s younger brother and they were very close. I didn’t think she’d believe me and even if she did I thought she’d blame me. He moved in with us again when my younger sister turned 13 and I noticed he was looking at her funny. I finally told my mum, even threatened to runaway with my sister if she didn’t do something. But she believed me immediately. She wanted him thrown in jail but family intervened. She hasn’t seen him or talked to him since he left.
1 hour
An hour. It happened in my own room in school. This guy I had been talking to came to see me. We were fooling around and I asked him to stop when it started going too far. He didn’t. He casually let himself out when he was done, didn’t say a word to me. I stayed where he left me until my roommate came back. She wanted us to report to police or school authorities but I didn’t want to put myself through that I just wanted to move past it.
A couple of hours
A couple of hours. I had gone to see this guy and we were making out. I had told him right from the jump that I didn’t want to have sex. Next thing I know he brings out his penis and I repeat myself. And he goes ‘oh yeah I know nothing is going to happen’. Next thing he’s trying to ease himself in and I tell him to stop and he goes ‘just the tip’, I still say no and he inserts himself regardless. I just lay there like a log of wood.
When I got back to hostel I was gisting my friend like ‘see what this stupid boy did o’. When I finished she was like ‘guy he raped you’. I was arguing that it wasn’t like that, I went with it after he entered, and she kept insisting I was raped. I remember getting upset at her and asking her what secret agenda she had and why she wanted me to be a victim by force. It took me 2 years after it happened to fully understand that she was right and he had raped me. It’s not always violent.
2 weeks
Two weeks. I was 17 at home after JAMB and WAEC waiting for Uni to start. My brother’s friend came to see him and he wasn’t home. I was home alone but I let him in, because he was a familiar face. I started acting up after it happened, I wasn’t eating, wasn’t going out. I and my brother were close and he knew something was wrong. He kept pressing until I told him what happened.
After I told him, he went and beat the guy to a pulp. I appreciated it but then he had to explain to my parents why he was going around beating people up. I can never forget when he was telling my parents why he beat the guy he narrated it like I was somehow at fault. The only thing my mother had to say was why did I open the door for a stranger and she has warned me to stop wearing short skirts and provocative clothes.
The fourth episode of #MORETHANINKANDLOCS features Ade Balogun. Ade Balogun is a loctician, an architect and a hustler.
10 years ago while practicing as an architect, Ade decided to lock her hair mostly due to the convenience of not having to worry about making her hair.
For Ade, people see her dreads as beautiful and want to have hair like hers, so she has dedicated herself to making this a reality through her loc salon ”Locitude Studio.”
Addressing how Nigerians have created a false standard for beauty she says:
“The impression we should try to correct should be, “why are African women obsessed with wearing other people’s hair? Why are we the only race on this planet that feel the need to put someone else’s hair on our head to feel beautiful”.
Ade is an “absolutely fantastic person” and you have to look beyond her dreadlocks to see her for who she really is.
Ade is #MORETHANINKANDLOCS and this video tells us why.
From vegetarian to paleo to keto diets, it seems like a new diet and fitness fad pops up every minute. I had never paid any attention to them until I noticed I had added more than an inch or two to my waistline. I decided to do something about it.
I considered all my options very carefully and started with joining a gym for a month. If anyone took the time to check how many times I came in, I’d probably get a refund. I decided to try out a diet. My biggest dilemma with all of the weight loss plans I researched, was that I only wanted to lose a couple of inches of my waistline. With my newfound weight, my otherwise nonexistent butt had taken on some form of shape and I was filling out my jeans. But I also have an affinity for crop tops and itty bitty slinky dresses and I didn’t like the way my love handles were hanging out of them.
I took a deep dive into the world of diet fads and came out with two solutions for my peculiar problem. First of all, I had to find a way to cut down on carbs to trim my waistline. That seems easy enough if your favourite food isn’t any kind of pasta and you consider a whole box of pizza a snack. I also needed to control my portions. The problem was I needed to find a diet where I could still eat anything I wanted while doing these things. And that’s how I found intermittent fasting. With it, in theory, I could eat anything I wanted just not anytime I wanted.
There’s no one way to do intermittent fasting. There’s the 5:2 method where you eat regularly for 5 days a week and fast for 2 days. Then there’s the Alternate-Day-Fasting where you fast every other day. The most suitable for me, however, seemed to be the 16/8 method. With it, I’d be fasting 16 hours a day and eating for 8. Following the diet meant I could only eat between 11 am and 8 pm. If I had dinner at 10 pm I couldn’t eat till 1 pm the next day. It seemed easy enough in theory. Here’s how my first week went.
Monday
In an attempt to cut out carbs from my diet I switched from my usual pastry filled breakfast to fruit smoothies. On Monday morning I woke up nice and early and dutifully made my breakfast made up of bananas, an avocado, apples and some greek yoghurt. I got into work at about 9:30 am and popped my smoothie in the fridge. On a regular day, I’d be having meat pie and tea with enough milk to give the office admin manager a mini-stroke for breakfast as soon as I got in at 9 am. Today I had to wait till 11 am to have my smoothie.
It was easy enough, an extra two hours wasn’t going to kill me. At 11 am I had my smoothie and the minute I dropped the bottle, I realised I was even hungrier than before I had the smoothie. While I’d have had my lunch at 3 pm I had it at 1 pm, which meant that by 5 pm I was hungry again. I stopped by Cakes and Cream on my way home and bought a couple of slices. The plan was to have a bit of it every day for the rest of the week. Never a full slice at a go. I had two slices before 8 pm and consumed half a box of leftover pizza before going to bed.
Tuesday
Feeling bad about all the junk I ate the night before, I decided to fast for 17 hours instead. Still determined to stick to my smoothie breakfast I had one at 12 pm. This time I loaded up on the yoghurt and drank it very slowly. I read somewhere that eating slowly can help you fill up faster. By 12:30 pm I realised not everything you read is true. By 1:30 pm I had a headache, by 2 pm I was snapping at my coworkers for no reason. I had my lunch at 3 pm to prevent myself from having a large dinner like the day before, and it worked. By 7:30 pm I had some spaghetti and stir fry and called it a day.
Wednesday
I got into work at 9 am. I couldn’t make my usual smoothie because NEPA was well being NEPA and my generator had given up on me the night before. My plan was simple, fill up on water until I could have my lunch at 2 pm. The only flaw in my plan was that water is no remedy for hunger and our Admin guy had just stocked up on biscuits that morning. I nibbled on one at 9:30 and planned to have just a couple with a cup of green tea at 11 am. By 10:30 I was halfway through the pack.
I managed to reign in my appetite to have a lunch of Jollof rice, plantain and beef at 3 pm and some dodgy slices of pizza I didn’t know were still in my freezer for dinner at 9 pm. I also found a slice of cake and I Googled how many calories are contained in 3 slices of pizza and a slice of cake as I ate. Coming to the realisation that the number was ten times my weight didn’t stop me for finishing them off.
Thursday
I woke up knowing trying to stick to my ‘diet’ was going to be tough. On Thursdays, I work remotely which meant I’d be home all day in super close proximity to my freezer which was almost always full of leftovers. My first mistake was opting to eat a full meal of rice and stew for breakfast. By 1 pm I had talked myself into believing I deserved a cheat day for being somewhat well behaved for 3 whole days. I nibbled on some pringles at 2, tore into a bar of chocolate at 4, ordered rice from TFC at 5 and couldn’t help but throw in a burger into my order. By 6 my food came and I started with my rice. I meant to keep the burger for later but I ended up eating it almost immediately after the rice. Thankfully I ended up feeling too bloated and uncomfortable for the rest of the day to eat anything else. As far as cheat days go I didn’t think I did too badly.
Friday
It’s back to regular programming and I find myself busier than usual at work. I barely have time to gulp down my smoothie at 12 pm before getting into a flurry of activities that stopped me from having lunch until 4 pm. I get home and for the first time the whole week I can’t find anything to eat in my freezer. I settled for making another smoothie for dinner.
Saturday & Sunday
I realise I have two weddings and a party on Sunday. I declared the whole weekend a ‘cheat weekend’ and promise myself to continue my diet on Monday. This week we go again.
I’ve always been terrified of dating apps. I’ve seen way too many horror movies, which means that the idea of not really knowing who’s on the other side of that too-good-to-be-true profile scares the hell out of me. So in an attempt to help fight (what has been described as) my irrational fear, I downloaded the dating app called Tinder, just to test the waters.
I deleted the app an hour later. The whole thing was just too much.
Anyway, here’s some stuff I learned during my brief time in the super weird world of online dating. Basically, a list of red flags I noticed.
1) Run from the people that say that they’re into “matured minds”or refer to themselves as “Sapiosexual.”
Because more often than not, they’re as dumb as a bag of wet hair. They only put it there because they somehow found out what it means and want to signal intelligence but do the exact opposite by writing shit like, “Am a sapiosexual.“
2) Run from people who say anything along the lines of, “Go straight to the point and don’t waste my time.”
Because unlike you, who is probably there looking for a potential soul mate, this person is there to hook up. Now, this isn’t a bad thing, it’s just good to know so you don’t waste your own time.
3) Run from people that are offering “massages with happy endings.“
Erotic massages are glorious (SO I’VE HEARD), but know that the people on dating apps offering this aren’t doing it for free. If you decide to meet with one of them, you WILL be parting with money before you get your “happy ending.”
4) Run from profiles containing pictures of white people whose their locations tell a different story.
Like the one that has a picture of a white woman posing in front of a Walmart but her location says “University of Ado Ekiti.” Everything about this scenario I just described signals that there is treachery afoot.
Stay woke.
5) Run from people who have a group photo as their only photo.
Because you’ll never know which one of them in the picture is the person you’re talking to, and you’ll never know until you meet them in person. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?
6) Run from people who keep insisting you come visit them.
After years of seemingly waddling on the edges of his breakthrough, Burna Boy’s celebrating his 28th birthday as one of, if not the biggest artist out of Nigeria in 2019.
The Port Harcourt-born singer/rapper had a stellar 2018 as we outlined here, and he’s maintained that energy in 2019.
This year, he’s strung together a run of hits and wins that seems endless. With his fourth studio album, “African Giant” scheduled to drop in the second half of this year, there’s no sign he’s letting up anytime soon.
As Burna turns 28, we celebrate his five biggest moments since his last birthday.
His Coachella Debut
Rocking a custom design by Kenneth Ize, Burna Boy made his Coachella debut in 2019. The announcement was almost overshadowed by his show of ‘big font energy’ – his way of asking for greater recognition among peers from around the world.
Burna’s set was also polarizing as we reviewed here . In retrospect, it was a welcome sign that stakeholders in the right rooms and audiences had become aware of this rebel’s talent.
Winning Artist of The Year at the SoundCity MVP Awards
Once upon a time, the Headies (or the HipHop World Awards as they were once known) were the biggest stamps of a Nigerian artist’s success over the year in review. After many reiterations, the Soundcity MVP awards have emerged as another worthy seal. The 2018 edition was particularly remarkable in that it cosigned an important change of the guard.
After years of Wizkid and Davido dominating best artist awards, Burna Boy was named the artist of the year at a ceremony that felt like an oft-postponed coronation than anything else. The award was an early call that Burna had won 2018.
His mother’s warning to “expect more madness” as she received the award on his behalf was even more poignant. It was a perfect way to let us know that Burna wasn’t planning on relinquishing his new throne anytime soon.
“Killin’ Dem” w/ Zlatan Ibile
As 2018 drew to an end, it seemed pretty certain that “Ye” would be the song of the holidays. Despite taking its time to warm its way into our hearts and playlists, the song has reached anthemic proportions by the end of the year.
Then, out of the blue, Burna tapped Zlatan Ibile and the Zanku sound he’d made popular to create “Killin Dem”. The song ensured that Burna had the three biggest songs, “Ye”, “On The Low” and “Killin Dem”, as we entered the December concert season, and set a marker for his 2019. 6 months later and the songs still bangs like a fresh release.
Burna Live
Controversy typically follows the biggest artists like moths drawn to a flame. In Burna’s case, however, it has shown up at the most unfortunate moments. One of the sadder instances happened in 2017; after a fairly good year, Burna was scheduled to headline his own showcase, “The Burna Boy Concert”.
However, the show was suffocated by allegations that Burna had sent thugs to harass fellow PH singer, Mr 2kay. The police soon intervened and Burna appeared in court. After days of uncertainty, the show was cancelled. In retrospect, it would go on to mean next to nothing.
Burna Boy pulled off an even better year next time around. As 2018 drew to a close, Burna announced “Burna Live”. This time, fate dealt him a better hand. He might have been four hours late to his own show but when the man climbed on stage, his people claimed him, in screams of “Burna”, “Rankin” and all the other nicknames he has come to be known by. An ascension five years in the making was complete.
Winning Best International Act at the 2019 BET Awards
Award shows have become notorious over time for going off-script. Popular examples include Kanye West’s outburst at the VMAs and Burna’s walk-out after being denied the award for the Next Rated Category at the 2012 Headies. Burna’s nomination for the 2019 BET Awards was expected. The events that followed his announcement as the winner of the “Best International Artiste” award were anything but.
“Every black person should please remember that You were Africans before you were anything else” -Mama Burna #BETAwards
Noticing that her son was missing from the hall, Burna’s momager. Bose Ogulu took the stage to receive the award on her son’s behalf. The final words of her brief speech – “Every black person should please remember that You were Africans before you were anything else” – have become a watchword on Malcolm X’s Internet.
It’s Burna’s day; but Mama Burna deserves all the roses too.
There’s so much music out there that it’s hard for even the most loyal fans to stay up with their favourite artists or what’s new and hot right now. That’s why we’ve created #BumpThis – a daily series that features the one song you need to listen to, every day. Don’t say we never did anything for you.
“Where did Mojeed go?” is a question that every Nigerian rap aficionado has asked or had to answer in some form over the last five years.
A notoriously-reclusive rapper with a penchant for descriptive storytelling, Mojeed warmed his way into the hearts of fans with what some argue is the best mixtape out of Nigeria in a decade.
5 years after “Westernized West African” was released, the mixtape is back on streaming platforms as a remastered album.
“No Time”, a song about ambition, success and longevity, is one of the mixtape’s standout cuts. Backed by a spaced-out beat by Leriq, Mojeed sings a prayer for long life and enough time for his dreams to come through.
“Cream of the crop, I swear the root of all evil got me paying these tithes now“, is how he opens the first verse. Mojeed’s stop-start delivery is one of his main quirks and he pauses for effect often here. He raps with more aggression on the second verse and his biggest influences – East Coast rap, Jay-Z and Juju shine through. “Shey waw’ago mi if you don’t know what time it is” is an invitation to keep up with him. It sets off snapshots of stories about the pace and the distractions of fast-paced paper chasing.
“No Time” has everything that won Mojeed his fans and kept them loyal since. He has an uncanny ability to switch between English, Yoruba and Pidgin mid-verse. The multilayered verses remind you of Hov. And the Surulere/NYC rapper does it with a slurred but precise delivery that is pretty much ear candy.
Five years after it first cracked our consciousness, “No Time” sounds as up-to-date as the day it was released. Maybe it’s a small sign that Mojeed’s prayers may have been answered.
At the live premiere of the 4th season of the hit reality show Big Brother Naija that took place on the 30th of June 2019, OPPO Mobile was announced, by Multichoice Nigeria, as a category sponsor of the show.
OPPO Mobile Nigeria will be part of the show until the season ends on the 30th of October, 2019, and will be unveiling many surprises as the weeks go by. Young people outside the house will not be left out of the excitement and rewards, courtesy of OPPO Mobile at different times during the airing of the TV Show.
Just like in other markets of the world where OPPO Mobile exists, OPPO Mobile Nigeria is committed to youth empowerment and dream actualization.
Nengi Akinola, the Marketing Manager of OPPO Mobile Nigeria said, “Over the years, the show has been a launchpad for stars into the Nigerian entertainment industry. This track record of growth and empowerment attracted us, as it is our goal to not only give our customers the very best of technology with every smartphone but to also increase their chances of becoming the very best versions of themselves in all their endeavours.”
Since its maiden edition in 2006, the show has produced some of the biggest names in Nigerian entertainment such as OPPO Nigeria brand Influencer, Bamike Olawunmi, popularly known as Bam Bam, Ebuka Obi-Uchendu, Bisola, Teddy A, Uti Nwachukwu among others.
The winner of the show is set to go home with a cash prize of N30 Million, a new OPPO smartphone, and other prizes, all valued at N60 Million.
You can follow OPPO Mobile Nigeria on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter for more information and updates on OPPO Mobile Nigeria’s BBN 2019 activities.
Navigating life as a woman in the world today is incredibly difficult. From Nigeria to Timbuktu it’ll amaze you how similar all our experiences are.
Every Wednesday at 9am, women the world over will share their takes on everything from sex to politics right here.
In the past year, I’ve seen and heard the word ‘feminist’ more times in a day than I ever have in the first 23 years of my life. And I grew up with a mother who often writes academic papers on feminist theories.
When people ask if I’m a feminist I don’t think twice before I reply yes unequivocally. Equality of rights for both sexes? Sign me up, please. I found it hard to understand why any woman won’t be a feminist so I talked to one.
What’s feminism to you?
I think there are two definitions of what feminism is. There’s what it was and what it has become. Feminism is the fight for equal rights, yes and that’s what our great grandmothers did, actually fight for our rights to vote, go to school, drive, etc. Now ‘feminists’ spend all day trolling men and spend more time talking about what they will never do instead of what they could do. They say they are fighting for equal rights but how exactly does talking about all these mundane things achieve that.
What mundane things exactly?
Like cooking, or who will pay on dates, or who will take whose last name. Inconsequential stuff that won’t cause any groundbreaking changes in history. The women who fought for us to vote and drive weren’t losing sleep over who is cooking for who.
What do you think it means to be a feminist today?
Being a feminist today means being loud and brash. It means shouting down anyone who doesn’t think like you or has a different opinion from yours. I see it on Twitter all the time. Anytime women who have a differing opinion from these ‘feminists’ say something they don’t like everyone screams ‘pick me’ at them and bullies them into keeping quiet. I was telling my ‘feminist’ friend that even though I don’t think it’s my place to do it I don’t mind taking on the role of caretaker in my home when I marry. She said I was oppressed and shallow minded.
You don’t think that’s an important conversation to have?
Not important enough to die on the matter the way people do. There are more important conversations we can dedicate our time and energy to. Child trafficking, sexual assault and abuse etc. Instead, all they do is degrade men. If men are your oppressors and you spend all day insulting and degrading them instead of educating them, what makes you any better than them?
You don’t feel oppressed by men in society in any way?
No, I don’t because I’m a hard worker. I recognize that there are certain inequalities between men and women, like with how we’ve never had a female president. But I refuse to be oppressed. In my own little corner of life and work I excel above men and I’ve never been held back from getting anything because of my gender.
Were you aware of the Market March and #ChurchToo protests
Yes, I was and I must say I’m very proud of those women. They exemplify what the word feminist used to mean. What I found interesting is that a large number of self-proclaimed feminists across all our popular social media platforms weren’t there. Sure they tweeted their support and were sending love and light and all of that nonsense. But the most vocal ones were nowhere to be seen when it came down to doing the grunt work.
Did you participate?
No I didn’t. But if that kind of thing happens again I’ll be sure to join in.
You do believe in equal rights?
Yes, I do I’m not a moron I believe men and women deserve equal pay for the same work. I believe they deserve to have equal rights, but that doesn’t mean you should call me a feminist because I no longer believe in what the name connotes. When I tell people that I believe in equal rights for men and women but I’m not a feminist they mockingly ask me what’s the difference or why am I deceiving myself and I simply tell them it’s 2019 and the word feminist might as well be a synonym for misandrist and I refuse to associate myself with it.
Do you think you’ve benefited from feminism in anyway?
Of course. I can drive, I can vote, I can get an education, own property etc. I could never discount the work OG feminists put into getting women to where we are today. I just don’t see what this current wave of feminists are doing.
It doesn’t matter if you just won 45 million Naira after spending 90 days locked away with alleged fence jumpers. Or if your Liverpool predictions finally came through with BonanzaBet. If there’s anything sure to ruin your day, it will definitely be converting your earnings into Dollars.
Goes without saying, any chance to have anyone beside Awolowo and the likes staring you down when you open your wallet would be a welcome development, no? Well, this could be our reality, if the ECOWAS Eco ever comes to fruition.
Made up of 15 member states, the leaders of The Economic Community of West African States, are making attempts to have Africa as a better-integrated continent. On July 1, 2019 they adopted the name ‘ECO’ for the planned single currency to be introduced in the West African region.
So What Does This Mean For Nigerians?
Let’s ignore the fact that ‘ECO’ sounds like the name of a 90s Nigerian University cultist, should it become the single currency of Nigeria and the rest of the 14 West-African member states, here’s what we can expect:
Nigeria Will No Longer Hide Their Face When Ghana Walks Into The Room.
That’s because a single currency will mean the abolition of exchange rates.
Even though one Ghanaian Cedi currently exchanges at 67.16 Naira, with the introduction of the Eco currency, all our broke sins shall be wiped away and we will become new again.
This goes for all countries involved, even the 8 Francophone WA States (Benin, Burkina Faso, Guinea Bissau, Ivory Coast, Mali, Niger, Senegal and Togo) which currently use the CFA Franc as a uniform currency.
By doing this, trade between all countries in the region will be made infinitely easier!
Nigeria Will Be Able To Focus On Exporting Their Jollof.
With a single currency, there will be a realistic reduction in the cost of engaging in trade. By so doing, the countries involved will focus on what they do best and exchange it for goods other countries produce. Jollof rice for Ghana’s gold is a fair trade, no?
Nigeria’s Central Bank Won’t Be Able To Carry Shoulders Anymore.
And that’s a good thing. No other country’s central bank will be be either. This is the currency union will have one central bank, completely independent of any state, which will be invaluable in improving price stability.
So why aren’t our wallets filled with Eco notes Right Now?
Well, because man proposes and God Well, He disposes.
Case in point, this isn’t the first time this plan has been suggested. The idea to have a common currency has been raised four times, the first being in the year 2000, when 6 leaders of the Anglophone WA states agreed to create a harmonised monetary union.
Here’s why it’s so hard to achieve.
Because to adopt a single currency, the African states have to pass these tests:
1.Each country has to achieve single digit inflation of 5% or less. In 2018, Ghana’ inflation rate was at 9.84%. Nigeria’s inflation rate, as of February 2019 was 11.31%. It is no easy feat to achieve.
2.ECOWAS also requires all member states to achieve a budget deficit to GDP ratio of 4% or lower before the currency is dropped. It is currently projected that Ghana’s debt to GDP ratio will be 62% by the end of 2019. Nigeria, around 26% in 2020, when the currency is expected to launch.
It’s going to be incredibly hard to achieve.
And if that isn’t hard enough, the reality is, African countries do not necessarily trade among themselves. Overseas trade makes about 80% of total trade on the continent, while trade between African countries accounts for about 10%.
Midway through “Opotoyi“, Naira Marley’s first song since his release on bail as he faces charges of fraud, the rapper stops what is a fast-tempo dance song to preach:
“Ko s’ogun aiku, iku lo gara ju, werey to’n s’ogun aiku fun gan, t’oba ku tan bawo lo se fe gba refund“
In English: “There’s no way to beat death; if there’s anyone who’s gullible enough to pay for such charms, how will he get his refund if he dies?”
In isolation, it would be a confounding statement, but as a part of “Opotoyi”, it is a targeted show-off of street smarts that stands out on a song that’s little more than an exercise in crass shit-talking, delivered in perfect street lingo.
In the last few months, the rapper/singer, real name Afeez Fashola, has become a phenomenon mired in controversy. Not much is known of his early life. He moved to the UK as a teenager. According to a recently-surfaced news report, he was one of many young people declared wanted by Lewisham Police for crimes ranging from robbery to sexual assault on a night bus in 2014. He made a light splash in the UK rap scene shortly after before a brief hiatus.
When he returned, he was the perfect hybrid of two cultures. Naira Marley raps in a mix of Pidgin, English and Yoruba in a drugged drawl spiced with a South London accent. In subject matter, he’s more similar to Obesere, the vulgar Nigerian fuji icon than Kida Kudz, another Nigerian/UK rapper from his generation.
A string of hits and ample use of social media, buoyed by strategic friendships with Lagos socialite, Rahman Jago and one of the hottest commodities in Nigerian music, Zlatan Ibile, shot him into the top 10 of streaming charts and made him a party staple.
Since March 2019, Naira Marley has owned at least two of the 10 most streamed songs in Nigeria. In a notoriously fickle music space like Nigeria’s, such a drastic change in fortunes often inspires artists to tighten their bootstraps. Not Marley.
Over the course of three months starting April 2019, Naira Marley grabbed a seat on the back of outrage and shot himself to infamy. On April 6, soft-spoken singer/songwriter Simi criticised internet fraudsters in a Live session on her Instagram. Simi has an appetite for social commentary on issues from football to politics; and after several tweets on the topic, a fan had told her to leave yahoo boys alone.
The IG live session appeared spontaneous but it was not unwarranted. As Simi would go on to say, “I’m not the problem, the world is laughing at us”. Nigeria has earned an unhealthy reputation for breeding a daring strain of internet fraudsters who, in 2017, earned themselves the 3rd spot in global internet crimes.
They are the more imaginative spawn of the ‘pen pal’ fraudsters of Nigeria’s 1980s, and more profitable as well — About N127 billion was lost to cybercrime in Nigeria in 2015, according to Professor Umar Danbatta, CEO of the Nigerian Communications Commission. They haven’t discarded the old playbook either — Nigerian prince scams still rake in over $700,000 a year, as this report by the CNBC claims.
In a sea of vitriolic responses to Simi’s video, Naira Marley stood tall, launched his own Instagram live session and offeredreasons, including reparations for the transatlantic slave trade, on why internet fraud is justified.
The events that followed read like the final chapters of a Ben Okri book. Days later, on April 22, Naira Marley took to Instagram to accuse Simi of snubbing him at an event, “@symplysimi I saw u at d homecoming last night, u look sad & upset.. why? Am I a yahoo boy?” he wrote beneath a picture of him. The caption has since been changed.
No publicity is bad publicity, someone once said. And once online conversation pushed the spat to viral proportions, it was only a matter of time before Naira would take advantage. Released on May 9, “Am I A Yahoo Boy”, a trap single featuring Zlatan, expanded on Marley’s IG video by asking rhetorically, if the two were in fact internet fraudsters. Within hours, the song shot to the top of digital streaming charts.
Naira Marley may have offered answers on the song but the EFCC wanted more. As the cock crowed in the wee hours of May 10, Zlatan, Naira Marley and three others were arrested during a raid on Zlatan’s residence at Ikate, Lekki, Lagos.
While Zlatan regained his freedom after days of questioning, Naira Marley’s fate was more thorough. On May 30, the rapper was arraigned before a Lagos court on 11 counts of violating the Cyber Crimes Act of 2015, and granted bail in the sum of 2 million naira. Days later, Marley was free.
Many had first expected Naira Marley’s first song after his arrest to be a plaintive reaction to his stint in jail. Music typically reflects the state of whoever’s making it. As shown by every artist from Sinzu to Zlatan, who recorded “Four Days In Ekotie-Eboh” upon his own release, time behind bars typically inspires bars of the written kind.
Instead, Naira released “Opotoyi (Marlians)”, a lewd song for drunken nights, filled with vulgar appraisals of the female body and drug use. In any other artist’s case, it would have gone down as a wasted opportunity to attract valuable sympathy. For Naira Marley however, his devotion to a certain way of life and his efforts to celebrate it trump everything else.
Despite introducing himself to the audience as a semi-IJGB schooled in Lagos street life, Naira Marley has always shown allegiance to the latter part of his identity. His early releases wouldn’t sound out of place on a London DJ’s playlist, but over time, Naira has gradually unveiled his ‘real face’.
From his frequent Instagram Live sessions to his very public responses to trending issues and his affiliation with suspected gang members, even when singing about seemingly innocuous topics like football on “Issa Goal” or the paparazzi on “Illuminati”, Naira has always offered up subtle and sometimes overt praise for two of the biggest scourges that are defining a generation of Nigerian youth today — internet fraud and drug abuse.
Covered by the sheen of celebrity and glossy music videos, Naira Marley can be easy to digest. At best, he’s seen as a playful charlatan; at worst, a harmless nihilist. It belies the fact that the real-life version of the persona that he offers is much darker.
You’ve seen him before; the average street boy who is as quick to hustle for a wad of notes as he is to explore the shorter route there. He doesn’t care what you think; he is often eager to project power, physical or financial. He is one of the people who make up Naira Marley’s core fanbase.
The “Marlians”, as they are called, are a survivalist bunch, groomed in a dog-eat-dog world where morality is a fickle construct and strength in numbers is a policy. While well-meaning Nigerians applauded on Twitter his arrest, they complained that EFCC chose to arrest him on his birthday.
The burning question of how Naira Marley secured their attention and devotion and became a “national star” is worth discussing. For decades, the music of Nigeria’s most culturally-vibrant ghettos has often existed in its own vacuum – with only a few artists making the journey to nationwide acceptance and becoming relative ambassadors. The analogy that best describes this process is crossing the third mainland bridge.
No one crosses the Third Mainland Bridge except to meet a need on the other side. In a sense, it can feel more like a journey between social classes, than a trip on a 14km-long bridge. One end of the bridge has always felt left out when it comes to popular music.
It’s easy to recognise what we’ve come to describe as street music – amateurish production, aggressive delivery, subject matter that focuses on dance or occasionally larger-than-life ideas ranging from ‘hustle’ to ‘fate’.
Since Kerewa became a national hit and topic of concern among Nigerian parents fearing for their impressionable young kids, the music of Nigeria has only ever blown up courtesy of acceptance on the other side of the bridge – in Lekki’s snazzy clubs and lounges, behind location filters and retro-cameras of highbrow Lagos and its islands.
The Shaku-Shaku sound and dance that dominated 2018 are the most definitive examples. According to its biggest ambassadors, Slimcase, Shaku-Shaku and the drum-heavy sound of hit songs like “Diet” became integral parts of the culture in Agege, a not-so-highbrow area of Lagos since 2016. Yet it did not reach nationwide acceptance until the dance became a social media phenomenon, with celebrities from Genevieve to D’banj taking stabs at it.
It soon showed up in the Island’s biggest clubs. DJs, ever the willing suppliers, found the songs to fit – and introduced new audiences to its stalwarts. Collaborations spurred more hits and by the time concert season came in December 2018, the only thing that mattered was Shaku-Shaku.
On your first attempt to juggle your memory, it would appear Naira Marley’s journey happened on the shoulders of the Zanku – the dance style popularised by Zlatan that leveraged Shaku-Shaku’s entry into the mainstream and hasn’t gone away since.
The reality is much less linear: Naira Marley crossed the third mainland a lot earlier, in the most innocuous of ways. It happened thanks to a song you may remember from that one time Nigeria’s World Cup jersey stunned the world – 2018’s “Issa Goal”.
Unknown to most of his audience prior to its release, the song presented Naira Marley as a UK resident who was in love with the country of his birth and had the lingo to earn his place alongside Lil Kesh and Olamide . It was also picked up by Coca-Cola as the Nigerian National Team’s unofficial theme song for the 2018 World Cup. It was a move which, unwittingly, put him in a class alongside other prominent young Nigerians with more friendly brands, like Alex Iwobi and Wizkid.
His follow-up, “Japa” contains a more overt reference to credit card fraud, but if anyone heard, and some people raised concerns, everyone soon got drowned out by the noise of feet stomping on both sides of the bridge.
“Am I A Yahoo Boy” will perhaps go down as the most definitive song in Naira Marley’s career. The song’s title was the perfect query for the situation that birthed it – which is why it is worth noting that both artistes glorify internet fraud on a song which was supposed to acquit them of these accusations. Naira Marley’s arrest was celebrated in certain circles as a quick reaction to a budding menace. And it would have an effect, just not the one we expected — Marley’s message had stuck.
In the eyes of his fans, he’s become the street kid who’d made it enough to earn himself a love/hate relationship with the elite. He’s known by everyone from A-list artists to an audience out of Nigeria and the UK that loves his music but refuses to accept his violent nihilism — a way of life that Marlians are all too familiar with. What’s not to aspire to?
Make no mistake; Naira Marley knows exactly what he’s doing. Behind the braids, droopy eyes and seemingly haphazard behaviour is an artist who cross-pollinated Nigerian andUK street culture to produce a hybrid that has done what countless PR firms and record labels have struggled to pull off.
He’s dropped three songs since his arrest in May: “Why”, “Opotoyi” and “Soapy”. If you’re willing to explore the pattern, it goes far beyond his recent releases; he’s learned to pick the most targeted song titles, using words that draw instant reaction or take advantage of a trend.
“Issa Goal” made him one of the faces of a country’s appearance at the World Cup. “Japa” brought a common slang to life by embodying a generation’s obsession with evading haters, hard times or in his case, London’s Met Police. “Illuminati” was an attempt to elevate perceptions of his stardom by name-dropping a group that is believed by some to give musicians stardom in exchange for their souls. “Am I A Yahoo Boy” took advantage of the heavy buzz following his defence of internet fraud. “Opotoyi” stamped the “Marlians” as a community. Each of these songs has been streamed over one million times.
His latest release, an unfortunate dance single titled “Soapy” is an effort to strengthen his hold on that community. The song references his stint in jail and has been described as an effort to draw attention to the terrible conditions in Nigerian jails. However, on the morning of its release, Naira Marley took to social media to unveil the “Ijo Soapy”, the accompanying dance style that mimics public masturbation. It has taken only a few days for the song to become a menace.
“Don’t you trust me; trust me, I don’t trust myself” – Naira Marley (“Jogor“, Zlatan, Kesh and Naira Marley, 2018)
What Naira Marley represents isn’t just his music. The rapper may be his own biggest fan and his brand of pedagogy is largely self-serving. What more evidence does one need than that cringe-worthy self-comparison to Africa’s greatest individuals – Fela Kuti, Nelson Mandela – on “Am I A Yahoo Boy?”.
Yet it’s finding a greater audience than we expected because it’s the reality of a street culture that we’ve ignored for so long. It’s why the primary defence by most of his fans is that his music reflects reality; they’re correct. If terms like ‘maga’, ‘opotoyi’, ‘ase’ seem to be entering the popular lexicon, it’s because they were already in use before – albeit on the wrong side of the bridge.
The best evidence of the diversity of Naira Marley’s clan is best found on his Instagram. Hundreds of his fans have volunteered submissions of themselves doing his Ijo Soapy. Those who have made it to his page are more varied than you’ll expect; a group of young Peckham teenagers dancing around in circles, young Nigerian women in glossy lace at an Owambe, a stripper and not least by any means, Lil Kesh.
He may be an outcast in the hallowed halls of Naija twitter. But in the places where it often matters, away from the moral certitudes of ‘woke’ conversations, Naira Marley has held himself up a beacon of rebellion and young adult angst.
Like Simi did in April, many of Naira Marley’s colleagues have described his newest offering as what it is — a new low. Dancer, Kaffy is the latest person to do this. “In the history of Naija dance, I’ve never seen a more disgusting dance immoral dance called Soapy. It should never be encouraged,” she wrote in an Instagram post.
For all its worth, her voice and that of many others count. But when compared with the viral rates with which new videos of people dancing Soapy are popping up on social media, the reality gets even more worrying.
The question we need to ask is this: Are we ready for an artist who does not care what anybody thinks and has a horde of raucous if misdirected young adult males hanging on his every pronouncement?
In certain cultures, adulting is marked with rituals, tests and celebrations. But when you’re Nigerian, adulting often comes at you without warning. It comes in different forms; bills, family, responsibility, and you guessed it, kids.
Everyone who’s crossed either of those bridges has a unique story. A story that can help you see you’re not alone. That’s why every Thursday, we’ll bring you one Nigerian’s journey to adulthood, the moment it kicked off and how it shaped them.
The question we’ve been asking is, “When did you realise you were an adult?”
The guy in this story is “23 going on 24”. He makes videos for a living. For his age, he’s not doing bad – most people would kill for a good job, side gigs and a place of their own in these Buhari times. Unfortunately, his journey to this point hasn’t been as simple as the math would suggest. If there’s one thing he will never be accused of, it’s waiting for life to happen to him.
The one thing I always wanted to do growing up was leave home. As a kid, holidays were the only aspect of my life I looked forward to. I didn’t hate school, I never languished at the bottom of my class and the highest I ever came was third position. In primary school, I was punctuality prefect for some reason. I was an okay student. I could say the same about my family.
I grew up the first of three kids in a corner of Iyana-Ipaja, a far-flung area of Lagos. My family was ‘the normal, average family’. They had enough to afford the necessities and a safety net – we ate well, went to school and wore good clothes – but we weren’t rich. My mother, a teacher, often reminded us to be content and make the most of what we had. These lessons are still with me today.
In a way though, that was the problem: I was not content. Every school holiday, from primary school till my late teens, I visited my mother’s family house in Somolu. I spent most of my time there with one particular friend, every holiday. We chased excitement, new experiences and the kinds of high that bored, young boys crave. That freedom was everything.
It felt like my regular life had become too mundane, too predictable. Somolu was important because it was alive. Iyana-Ipaja wasn’t; It was filled with memories I’d rather forget.
My dad likes women, a lot. Chronically, even. When I was much younger, he dropped me off at school everyday. It would be just two of us in the car – me and him in the front seats. We’d drive down a few streets before he would ask me to move to the back seat. The front seat was for the woman joining us on that day’s ride. There were many of them. So many that it was hard for him to keep it under wraps. He brought these affairs very close to home several times; so close that my mother knew about them. Our neighbours were aware. Fam, he even did it with people in the compound. One time, he had a fling with a married woman whose husband didn’t let it go till he told the entire neighbourhood. Another time, his fling’s spouse got the police involved.
I think I was around 14 when I first asked my mother why she was staying through all of it. Why was she letting him do this to her? She would nag and sometimes, he’d come home crying in remorse, but nothing changed. Him still dey do am till today. I haven’t stopped asking her.
Holidays at Somolu continued to be the only bright light. We never went out, never travelled; we lived a perfectly boring life. By the time I was rounding off secondary at 15, I didn’t want to go back home anymore. So I didn’t.
Fresh out of secondary school, I lingered in Somolu while I wrote JAMB and tried to get into UNILAG. The best part though was learning design from my aunt. She’s a photographer who started showing me basic stuff early on. From there, I found myself in a design program at a branch of the Mountain of Fire And Miracles Church (MFM). It was the first time I felt good. It sounds corny but I felt like I’d found my tribe.
Around this time, in 2012, my parents moved to Magboro, a small community along Lagos-Ibadan Expressway. If Iyana-Ipaja was boring, this place was dead. So dead that they didn’t have light. My dad had lost his job abruptly. He gathered his pension and moved the family into his house there. It wasn’t in its final form. I didn’t always go there. I was 17 and practically living with my grandma in Somolu by then. My mum had to call to get me to visit.
That I left home after secondary school is something that my dad often says he regrets. Of all my siblings, my mother says she’s least closest to me. We don’t talk the way she does with my siblings. We just can’t. We didn’t have the time to build that relationship.
I had this Uncle who lived in London when I was in my early teens. Brother Kunle. He’s the only one on my mother’s side who didn’t go to university. But every time he came home, he had goody bags for everyone. He was the one who managed to build a home for his parents as well. I always assumed he was balling, even without going to school. The details mattered little to me; I just wanted to be that guy.
In 2013/2014, I got accepted into UNILAG to study Industrial Relations. I hated it from the first class. After a couple of months, it was obvious something was wrong. I couldn’t will myself to attend lectures; I skipped school for months. That first year, I flunked like crazy. Everyone, including my parents, was at a loss as to why. I was too. The second year was a bit better but I knew it wasn’t working. So I dropped out.
I told my parents a week after it happened. They were understandably upset, but what was done, was done. I had put my life solely in my own hands now, my dad made that clear. I spent the rest of that year – 2017 – trying to come to terms with that. That meant meeting everyone that I looked up to, asking questions and trying to make sense of my decision. All of that talking helped me realise that I just needed to put my head down and work. I did.
I don’t know if I left home too early. My mum complains about the divide between us and it feels familiar: I’ve been accused of not being able to stay in touch by some of my best friends. After we had spent a year together, an ex-girlfriend told me that I was incapable of love. Thinking about it still hurts. I know I struggle with maintaining relationships. Sometimes it’s deliberate, but more often than not, I just lose track.
I’ve spent the last few years figuring things out. I won’t say I have, I don’t think anyone ever really does. But for my age, I’m not doing too bad. What started as a small hobby led me to form a three-man group with some of my friends from the church. We lived off lucrative web design gigs for a while. Sometimes, we’d get as much as 3000 dollars for one job. I moved to a place of my own in 2018, and since then, I’ve found more stability in life and my career. Unfortunately, old wounds are still open.
I know I suppress certain memories – like leaving school and certain parts of my childhood but for the life of me, I can’t tell why. For everyone who I’ve flaked on, there are a hundred others who swear that I’m the most caring friend they ever had. You can never see yourself as objectively as the people in your life do. Behind all my inconsistencies is a chronic desire to please the people I care about. I need to give more to them than I take. Maybe that’s why I left home – not because we were sad, but because we weren’t happy. And I couldn’t do anything about it.
I have no regrets. Things could have turned out differently, but if it counts for anything, I’m doing what makes me happy. I never let my siblings breathe when it comes to their education. And I support when I can – like giving my younger brother 100k to kick off his fishery business.
I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m not doing enough. If I met a younger me, I’d ask him to not procrastinate – to break everything and keep moving. Maybe I’d be more fulfilled if I had moved that way. Maybe not. As things are, I have zero regrets.
There’s nothing worse than running into someone who you’ve definitely met before (based on their reaction to seeing you) but can’t remember. Because then, you’d have to stop them in the middle of their greetings and go:
“Who are you?”
Which will then lead to you witnessing the look on their face change from excitement to embarrassment, and the sinking feeling in your stomach that’ll come from knowing you caused that.
This happened to me a couple of times in the past and it sucked. Which is why I came up with a way to hack the system. Read and learn, ladies and gents.
1) Raise your excitement levels to match the person’s own.
This is important because they’re reacting based on the relationship (they think) they have with you. If you show too much excitement or not enough, they’ll clock that something is wrong.
2) Even though your mind will be working overtime to remember who the hell they are, you face must NEVER show it.
Because looking like someone just attacked you with a complex maths question when talking to someone you’re supposed to be happy to see will expose you as the forgetful fraud you are.
3) Because you can’t remember their name, use a random friendly term of endearment whenever you have to call them by name.
Be sure to throw in compliments. Compliments keep them happy.
4) If they make reference to some past event you both experienced together and expect you to chime in, respond with this:
Works every time.
5) At the end of your conversation, ask them if they still use the same number and pretend to check your phone for it. When you don’t find (because you never had it in the first place), ask them to give it to you so you can look up their name in True Caller.
I spend a substantial amount of time on Twitter. More than I’m even willing to admit. I ironically however never tweet. A couple of days ago I stumbled across this tweet and flew into a rage.
The average Nigerian woman tends to prefer sex by coercion or harassment. I had a conversation about this yesterday and the day before. Ladies, there's no need to say no when you want sex, hoping that he will persist.
More worrisome than the tweet itself were the replies to it. A ton of Nigerian men agreed with him. And even a couple of women admitted to having encouraged men to persuade them into having sex in the past.
I ranted to a coworker about how our purity culture prevents women from embracing their sexualities. And how someone could equate that with women preferring sex by coercion or harassment was beyond me.
For most Nigerian women the summary of the ‘sex talk’ they got if any was never to have sex outside of marriage. If you did, you’d get pregnant and die, and even more horrifying be tagged a loose woman with no morals. But we weren’t taught that our bodies are genetically wired to want sex. And when we discovered that a conflict arose. Do we give into these carnal desires we had been taught only loose women felt or stay true to what we’ve been taught and ‘save ourselves’ for marriage?
It’s 2019 and women of this generation are more sexually progressive. They are able to recognise that having and enjoying sex within or out of the confines of marriage is nothing to be ashamed of. But an internal conflict continues to rage for many women when they find themselves engaged in sexual activities. On one hand they are thinking ‘this feel nice and I want to go all the way’. On the other hand, they are dealing with the guilt of going against everything they’ve been taught by parents and society.
A couple of hours after the tweet went viral, @orekagodis started a conversation on her Instagram page. She wanted to know what people thought about this man’s bold declaration. Going through the conversation, I noticed a pattern emerge. The men seemed to think that women did indeed want to be coerced into sex and gave a couple of anecdotes. The women, on the other hand, said in summary ‘please keep your penises to yourselves, we don’t want that’.
Another troubling pattern I noticed going through both her thread and the replies to the original tweet was the difference in the use of English between men and women who were engaging in the conversation. The original tweet used the words coerced and harassed. Other men who were chipping into the conversation used words like ‘forced’ and ‘pressured‘. The women, on the other hand, used words like ‘convinced‘ and ‘encouraged‘.
If you looked past the choice of words you might understand the logic behind the tweet. Nigerian women often do want to be convinced into engaging in sexual activity because they’ve been taught for so long that their sexuality was something to be ashamed of. And desiring sex was wanton. They want to be convinced that having sex doesn’t mean they are loose or skanky.
But you can’t look pass the choice of words. Coercing, harassing, forcing, pressuring anyone into having sex with you is rape. And that’s because rape doesn’t always have to be violent. As long as consent wasn’t given rape occurs. Using coercion and force to get your way with someone strips the other person of the ability to consent.
The most dangerous thing about peddling this sort of narrative. Is that it gives rapists and sexual assaulters a justification for their actions. ‘Her mouth was saying no, but her body was saying yes’ ‘It wasn’t rape she just needed to be coerced into sex’
The disconnect between how both women and men were engaging with the tweet, led me to make a poll. This bold claim was being made on behalf of women by men. Which as we all familiar with, is a pattern with Nigerian men. I shared the poll with as many people as I could and on Twitter, and 50 women took part in it. Here’s what I found:
100% of the women who took the poll didn’t want to be coerced or even persuaded into having sex. Even though 38.8% of them struggled with embracing their sexualities because of everything from parental expectations to societal pressure. Despite struggling to see sex as a casual activity they could engage in without feeling guilty, these women knew exactly what they wanted and it wasn’t to be coerced into having sex.
55.5% of these women, however, had been coerced into having sex at some point in their lives. Sometimes more than once. And in each case, they neither wanted it nor asked for it. 6% of the women who had been coerced into having sex felt it was somehow their fault and they had encouraged it. And one woman wasn’t sure if it was her fault or not.
Let me expatiate on this a little bit. This 6 % of women had stated they didn’t want to be pressured into having sex, had however been pressured into having sex at some point in their lives and now thought it was something they had done or not done that brought this on. To encourage openness I made this poll anonymous but to that 6 % of women, I have one thing to say – It was not your fault and you didn’t ask for it.
‘Have you been in any situation where you said no to sex but really meant yes?94% of the women in this poll gave a definite no to this question. Exactly 3 women admitted having done it. For one woman it was because she knew she’d regret it after, for another, it was dealing with the guilt brought on by purity culture, and the last because she didn’t want to be seen as a hoe.
There are about 100 million women in Nigeria, and the voices of 50 women out of that number is a pin drop in the ocean. However, it is 50 more women than were consulted in the making of the tweet that triggered this article, and the ensuing replies. And those 50 voices are all saying one thing. ‘We don’t want to be coerced, harassed, forced or pressured into sex.
Not that we are ones to participate in Suffering Olympics (even though Nigeria wins double gold any day)
But this was a particularly challenging week for people the world over. From record-breaking earthquakes to worsening humanitarian crises in at least 3 different continents of the world. While Nigeria had her fair share of issues to deal with, what with assault against women being the order of the day — if the week’s headlines were anything to go by, here’s how the rest of the world fared:
California and Mexico reminded us climate change has both fingers poised for a Thanos Snap on the world.
This week, Mexico experienced a Summer hailstorm, a none too uncommon occurrence in the city. What was strange, however, was its sheer magnitude. Damaging at least 200 local homes and villages, and 50 vehicles. The hailstorm left at least three feet of ice on the ground.
California, only yesterday, the 4th of July, experienced its strongest earthquake in two decades when a 6.4 magnitude earthquake hit the city.
If you haven’t already, now would be a fantastic time to plant that tree you’ve always wanted.
Hong Kong’s Protests Got Very Heated.
Hong-Kong as for 22 years enjoyed a semi-autonomous state from China, its previous colonisers; however, when a bill was passed to allow China extradite citizens of Hong-Kong, it was met with a series of protests.
What started as peaceful mass protests turned ugly, as protesters stormed and vandalised the Legislative Council of Hong Kong.
Venezuela and its Death Squads.
This week, the United Nations made accusations against Venezuela, who it supposes has been using its security forces to kill young men in the state. Worse still, the murders are allegedly staged to look like the victims resisted arrest. By May 19th, 2019, at least 1 569 deaths have been ascribed to criminals resisting arrest, by the end of 2018, this figure was at 5 287.
Crisis In The Democratic Republic of Congo.
The DRC is experiencing a resurgence of interethnic violence, and just this week, it was described as an attempted genocide by its president – Felix Tshisekedi. At the centre of the current crisis is the DRC’s northeastern province, where the violence has seen scores of its citizens killed, and tens of thousands displaced.
And let’s not forget, Whatsapp, Instagram and Facebook playing with our emotions.
Ending in considerably lighter news, this week also saw our favourite social media applications interlock fingers and jump into a black hole or whatever it was that prevented us from accessing them for hours at a time on July 3rd.
Luckily, it was all good by Thursday and we were all back to having something to scroll through in the middle of awkward conversations.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish–others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
This week’s story pulled off in collaboration with ARM PENSIONS. Tomorrow is looking good. How’s it looking for you? Start making tomorrow look good by making the right calls today, by clicking here.
Quick One: The guy in this story has a serious knack for just hustling for money, and it drove him to do menial jobs as early as age 13. Let’s get into it!
What was the first thing you did for money?
When I lived in Kano, there were people who were selling rams, so I’d pick the hull of beans, and sell to the ram sellers in sacks – this was in 2001. Then I tried conductor work out of stubbornness. The driver paid me 500 that day, but someone saw me and reported to my dad. That ended. We moved to another state, and not too long after, I secretly started pushing wheelbarrow on Fridays. I really didn’t want to depend on anyone at home for money at that time.
My dad never found out, because I knew that if he did, he might just say, “you’re going to pay your school fees with that money.”
We moved again, and in the area we moved to, it was just developing, so there were a lot of construction sites.
Did you move a lot?
Yep. I went to seven primary schools and six secondary schools, because we kept moving. So unlike most people, I don’t have primary school friends and secondary school friends. The only school I spent two years was the school I did my WAEC.
Wait, how old were you?
2003, I started helping out in construction sites, transferring blocks from one place to another. Then I started packing sand from a river. Basically, you’d pack a truck’s worth of sand, and then you sell it to trailers at about 1500.
What sand dredging looks like. A kid in Kebbi state dredging the Argungu River.
Nothing really happened till I got into University in 2007. There was this guy in school then who had a Computer centre. So I’d go there, help people type up their work, and give him a commission.
Then, people will call me from home and be like, don’t you need money, but I’d be like, nah I’m fine. The first project for someone was for a final year student, while I was in 300-level. Then I was on my way home after 400-level, and this student – a pregnant lady – was like, come and help me write my project. She paid me 30k in 2011. When I got back home, I was balling.
I graduated and went to serve in 2013. Then I started the job hustle, travelling everywhere to go and write job interviews. I travelled to Lagos to write one. I travelled to Kano to write another one. And so on. I sent CVs to my uncles and all that, nothing came through. That time ehn, I write cover letter tire.
Then one day in 2014, I got called that my dad was sick in the hospital. He died, eventually.
Woah.
Everything changed after that – I was 26 at the time, and I still had two younger siblings in university. Things got really tough, and we had to sell our house to fund my siblings’ education and stuff. Around that time, I made this friend in my compound at the time, who I can now call big brother, sort of.
He was like “did you send CVs to your uncles about job?” I said yes. And he said, “I’ll advise you not to wait mehn. Just wear your hustle cap, and let’s go and look for money.”
So I started following him to a Ministry in Abuja where he worked. That was how I started my agent work, registering trademarks and whatnot for people. I was learning the ropes, so I wasn’t really making money. I was running a lot of errands – making photocopies, submitting documents, etc. And because I was super comfortable with computers – from all the time I spent working on docs in University – they trusted me with it. So then, I’d make 1,500 on some days, other days 3k. Some days, even up to 5k. Out of this money, I still had to support the family – buy food in the house, give out pocket money, fuel the Gen and all that.
I did that for almost one and a half years.
Must have been intense.
Sometime in 2015, someone tweeted about a job. I applied and got hired as a Social Media executive to get paid 70k a month.
What I didn’t realise was that the role was double fold. It was a tech company, and basically, I was hired to do Social Media work for one of their clients. But then, I also had to do social media work for the company that actually hired me.
So, the interesting thing I found out when I resumed at the company I was posted to was that I walked into what would be my office to see one person in a room that has five computers.
And she just looked up at me like, “oh they brought you here? I’m leaving, that’s why they’re bringing you. You go hear am.”
I should have listened to that lady, because what it meant was that I was doing the work of 5-6 people at the same time.
Then after work on Monday, my boss would come and be like, “let’s think through this,” “let’s do that,” “why is our output low” etc.
I’d recommend solutions, and he’d still come back and rant the next Monday. By the 3rd month, I sent in my resignation with no plan after.
I remember my line manager saying, “won’t you at least wait till the end of the month to collect your salary?”
Nah, I was done.
Crazy.
Also at the time, I’d already started looking for how to make money on Social Media. I’d get tiny gigs from brands promoting stuff.
My mum would just come into the room and be like, “what are you doing on your phone?” She had no idea I was literally make a living off that phone.
My first major gig came that year – 100k. It was huge. And I was like, this social media something might make sense o. So I invested in a better device – a Tab. I bought it for somewhere between 40-50k.
I doubled down, and started doing gigs for all kinds of brands and organisations, getting 10k here, 20k there.. The real big one came late 2015 – I got paid 250k.
‘Influencer Marketing’?
I legit made a living tweeting.
Then one day, a friend of mine emailed me about a company hiring. They were looking for a local researcher. I remember being in a bookshop a few days later when they called me and were like “Is this a good time? We want to interview you.”
“Of course it’s a good time.” By the time the call was over, they’d hired me on the spot.
It was a per diem role, and you know how much they were paying me?
Tell me.
17k per day. I did that for a month and a half.
Omo, I was working everyday for eight hours. It was human-centered research, so I was doing what you’re doing with me right now – interviewing people and then transcribing it. I’d pick out the whats, whys, whens and hows of a story, and move on to another story. The research was basically about how people were using social media to demand accountability from government.
By the time I finished, the year was over, and I had so much money that I just wanted to go and chill. I gave my mum money as usual – I mean, I’d already started sending her money since I was doing my NYSC. After my dad died, it became my duty to make sure there was food in the house.
Ah, the first born struggle.
Yes. By January, the company that needed research reached out to me again. In all this time, my social media profile was also growing. People would reach out to me from companies, and say they needed someone to find people to push stuff on social media. So I’d raise a small team, push the gigs to them, get paid by the company, then get my commission from them too. So let’s say a brand pays me 100k, and want to pay the other people 50k. I’d get my 100k, then collect a broker commission from the remaining people – 20%.
It was a two-way model.
Add to that, I used to get some money from people commissioning me to do some writing for them too.
Back to that research company. They asked if they could take me on as a consultant.
I signed up immediately.
My work was mostly advisory at this point, recommending how to use one or two hacks –mostly with digital skills and tech – on how to improve their development work.
Then in June, they’re like, we think you’re good at engaging our partners. And we want you to become a coordinator for the development project in Abuja.
So, my money got raised 20k a day. I had already switched to 5 days a week at this time. Some days, I’d work extra, and spread it out to make up for other days.
Interesting.
Also, my work involved a lot of travel across the region, so I was also getting travel allowances. I was travelling to Maiduguri, Kano, Jigawa, Kaduna, etc. Each trip, Breakfast is paid for, with my hotel fees. Then I got 3k for lunch, 3k for dinner, and another extra 2k for staying in that town.
Sometimes, I’d spend a week in a state, and they’ll pay me a per diem of 85k. Add my main 20k per diem.
20k plus 20 days. Quick math.
Important to note that, travel wasn’t consistent, but I know my average was about 500 to 550k per month.
By mid-2016, they said they wanted to make me a full-time staff. I remember them giving me this long speech because they thought I wouldn’t want to come in full time, but in my head, I’m like “you people, I full ground.”
In hindsight, maybe I would have stayed behind and collected more money as a consultant. But careerwise, it was a good move, because it meant more immersive responsibility.
By August 2016, my first salary was 280k, as part of a one year contract. No more per diem. Only extra money was from travel. I used to go to like two to three locations every month.
I started managing and coordinating not just small teams, but entire projects.
In a month, I might not even spend my salary on myself, but I’d still be comfortable. But, I also had other responsibilities that needed to be met, like family. I don’t drink, smoke, club, or juggle babes. So I had very little need to spend money outside of the usual stuff.
I got my next raise in mid-2018 when I got promoted and took home 310k.
My Social media gigs were coming more frequently, plus travel money. So I always had money week on week.
But you know the one thing I wasn’t doing in all this time?
What?
Saving. As the money was coming, I was just spending. I suck at saving. There’s no story like “oh I’m stashing 100k every month somewhere”. But what I did instead in that period was that, I bought two pieces of land, one 100 x 50 and another 50 x 50.
I started building a house for my mum. 2018 was when I took the worst hit. Every month, about 250k from my salary was going into that house. So –
– Quick one, how much did the entire house cost?
Actually, I had spent 2 million and hadn’t finished. The thing is, buying a house is more expensive but more convenient. But when you’re building, you have to micromanage everything. Keep in mind that the 2 million includes the land I bought.
But one of the things that helped a lot was that I have a friend who volunteered to design the house for free. Based on “our mumsy”. He even volunteered to help supervise every now and then.
It got to a point in 2018, I told myself, “guy you just dey work work. When are you going to enjoy?” So I spent money on vacationing, and that cost about 500k.
Enjoyment.
By 2019, I moved out from my family’s space, and paid the rent for my first space, 500k. Then my mum’s place – because the house wasn’t done – 250k. Then siblings’ school fees. That’s how things have been up till this point.
But, staying alone is expensive. Also, I started spending more on Ubers. I spend about 3-4k on Ubers everyday. Trips to work cost like 1,100 in the morning. And there’s the weekend part. Then I spend another 3k on food. This became like a constant running cost in my life.
*180k*
I tried investment at some point sha – twice. But bad management ruined them.
Random, but the biggest money I’ve earned at once in recent times, was that I helped someone work on a research project for two weeks, and I got paid 850k.
Wut?
Yep. Also, I had just resigned from my job, so add my 310k salary to that. But something interesting happened in all these years. Because of my bad saving habits, I was owing debts of over 300k. I’d randomly just hit up my guy and tell him to send me money etc.
Do you have a money rule?
Never run out of money – number one rule. I have too many responsibilities to run out of money. When it comes to money, I never tell my family no. I never even let them know when I’m broke. I just send money every time they need it.
I end up spending money on my dependents more than I do on myself.
Time for the audit.
My money situation is very messy, because I’m getting it from multiple sources, but I’m not always tracking every dime properly.
So, what’s next?
I have another job I’m going to resume at. My take-home is going to be about 1.2 million after tax. It’s actually going to be in Forex, but that’s what it comes to when it’s changed to naira.
Forex is a Nigerian dream.
Yes. One of my friends has been earning in forex for over four years now. I don’t even joke around with it. I basically go to her to teach me how to constantly find opportunities like that.
What’s the hack for earning in Forex?
I really dunno if there’s a direct hack. But I think that, as people are growing, they should always identify opportunities in their fields that exist outside the country. If you’ve been doing something for so long and you’ve gotten good at it, you should be checking career pages of international organisations operating in Nigeria.
Some people write so well, and a lot of these organisations are looking for technical writers and researchers and so on. Many of them pay in Forex. There are some roles where they pay in naira, but if they’re a foreign development organisation operating in Nigeria, they’re probably paying some people in forex, and you want to be part of them.
Don’t limit yourself and say, “oh I’m earning 200k. I can’t apply for a job that’s paying 2 million.”: You’d be surprised that your skill is what they’re looking for.
What are your earnings looking like 5 years from now?
All things being equal, I’ll be earning about 2.5 million a month. But for the next year or two, it’s looking like maybe 1.2-1.5 million a month.
What about in 30 years?
Well, there’s my pension. To be honest, I think it’s necessary, to just earn and know some of it is being kept safely for much later.
On a scale of 1-10, what’s financial happiness looking like for you?
For now, I’d say 6. Because what I earn is enough to take care of my immediate problems and dependencies. My next salary will take me to an 8. Because that’s when I can now begin to save and invest effectively.
This week’s story was made possible by ARM PENSIONS. Have you ever wondered what your finances would look like in 30 years? Find out what it’ll look like here.
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After enjoying a breakthrough 2018, rapper Zlatan Ibile’s having a longer time in the sun than anyone expected. He’s definitely one of the hottest Nigerian rappers, or artists for that matter, in 2019. And at the moment, he’s enjoying a streak that has taken him far beyond any worries about being a flash in the pan or another holiday-cycle fad like Mr Real.
While his skill is not in doubt, It’s perhaps telling that Zlatan is better known for his big dance hits than weighty rap songs. He may not have the insight to deliver scathing social commentary like Falz or SDC. But what he lacks in that department, Zlatan makes up for with raw energy, aggressive delivery and dexterity with slang. Those traits have resulted in some of the best verses by anyone this year. They have also taken him beyond the limits that his native language often sets on his fellow indigenous rappers.
Zlatan has also had a very eventful year, which means at any given moment, he has more than enough to talk about. And it’s shown in the variety of music he’s put out from his owambe starter, “This Year” to his post-jail single, “Four Nights In Ekohtiebo”.
To give you a better sense of just how much heat Zlatan has put out this year, here’s a list of his 5 best verses since January 1, 2019.
We’ve considered the themes in the music, his versatility and how much he’s strayed from his comfort zone.
Zlatan’s “Four Nights In Ekohtiebo”
It’s easy to miss the fact that this song is just one long verse punctuated by Zlatan’s trademark adlibs. It was released after his detention and questioning by the EFCC and the subject matter is understandably dark. But Zlatan manages to make it more than just another post-jail rap song. He starts off by pondering over his previous few weeks, then exalts the habits – tenacity, self-belief and sadly, distrust – that he believes have given him his best year yet. His tone switches in tandem too; from aggressive to pained to grateful. It feels like Zlatan decided to just pause and take it all in, and the music feels great for it.
The sheer glee on this song, starting with Junior Boy’s celebratory verse, is excessive. “Ijo Ope” means dance of thanks in Yoruba, and all three artists explain what they expect will happen when their windfall finally lands. For Zlatan, it’s a good time to go through the days before his triumph. He reminisces on hours spent betting on virtual dog racing and performing for free at the Afrika Shrine. The rapper uses the perfect metaphors to tell his story. Baba Aja means “father of dogs”. He also describes his free shows at the Shrine as “performing at Fela’s house” making it sound like a rite of passage than anything else. The effect is that when he finally beats his chest in the end – it all feels very well deserved.
Candy Bleakz’s “Owo Osu” (w/ Zlatan and Naira Marley)
When Zlatan gets into ‘get that money’ mode, there are few rappers better in the game than him, except maybe the other guy on this song. Here, he’s enlisted alongside Naira Marley to provide support on rapper, Candy Bleakz’s debut single. Instead, Zlatan starts by almost pulling a Quavo and stealing the show with his adlibs. When it’s his turn to bless the mic, you can hear so much pent-up energy – like he has something to get off his chest. He impatiently tells us just how much he likes the bag by painting the picture of a chronic debtor who’s more concerned with popping bottles than paying up. On your first few listens, the verse sounds like a sub to someone only him will ever know. “I’m a mad man, pay my money and we won’t have trouble” perfectly captures this verse in one line. Please don’t owe Zlatan any money.
CDQ’s “Onye Eze” (w/ Zlatan)
“Tori mo j’eyan Onye Eze, ni girlfriend e sheyfejemi niete” (Because I’m with the kings, that’s why your girl wants to kiss my lips) is the fitting line to open this song. For one of his more recent guest verses, Zlatan joins fellow indigenous rapper, CDQ for an upbeat song about having powerful friends. While CDQ delivers in trademark fashion, Zlatan takes things a notch higher by showing he can turn on the style when he wants to. He makes the dual point of schooling the listener in moving like a big boy while running through 4 different flows in the space of 16 bars. When Zlatan’s verse ends, the descent into normalcy is so sudden that you just have to listen again.
Zlatan’s “This Year”
This is what success sounds like for a guy who’s spent years in the dark. Not many would have expected Zlatan to drop such an overt owambe anthem midway into the year, but the guy hasn’t really been one to play by the script. His opening verse here is everything we’ve come to love about him – he’s triumphant and energetic. It feels even better because of how he manages to switch styles across the beat while spitting bars like “Teletele mo waleyin bi ti Peter Rufai” (I used to be at the back like Peter Rufai). Zlatan manages to steer clear of curse words too, which makes it one of the few songs you can play for the kids as well.
Feel like any other verse should have made this list? What did we miss? Let us know in the comments.
There’s so much music out there that it’s hard for even the most loyal fans to stay up with their favourite artists or what’s new and hot right now. That’s why we’ve created #BumpThis – a daily series that features the one song you need to listen to, every day. Don’t say we never did anything for you.
It seems like it’s been forever since Ghana’s X.O Senavoe and South Africa’s HHP contributed stellar guest verses to “Illegal Music 2”, the critically-acclaimed mixtape by Nigerian rapper, M.I Abaga.
Since the disbanding of the Choc Boyz (as rappers MI, his brother Jesse Jagz and protege, Ice Prince were jointly called), a chasm has gradually appeared between Nigerian rappers and their African peers. “SA rappers are killing y’all,” M.I once said. Collaborations have gotten less frequent and vanished altogether.
In the last year or so, Nigerian hip-hop culture has experienced a resurgence. Still, it says a lot that it is the stalwarts of a bygone era who still have the most pulling power. On the remix to “Feel Good”, his collaboration with Falz and Phyno, Ice Prince enlists some of the continent’s finest. The names are familiar to any African fan of the genre – Kenya’s Khaligraph Jones, Ghana’s Sarkodie, South Africa’s Kwesta and Nigeria’s MI Abaga.
The four are known as elder statesmen in their respective regions and his decision to stack his plate with their verses transforms the song from a feel-good anthem to a sparring match between heavyweights
Typically, when his best colleagues join him on a track, MI’s verses often taken on a comedic twist, and this is no different. With lines like “Bout to go down in history as gold flesh, low threshold, still at the abattoir, I’m so fresh”, he sets a high bar for whoever’s following. Kenya’s Khaligraph shows no signs of being intimidated though. He starts off furiously, then asks, “Swag to death, this dude is feisty, how many niggas you know do this like me?”.
Ghana’s Sarkodie has always chosen technique and storytelling over the sheer weight of his bars. On this remix, he references his early days and shouts out his peers at a speed that would put tongue twisters to shame. It’s very different from Kwesta’s delivery. The latter is a lot more mellow in a way that lets you notice the production, a fast-paced highlife beat that sounds indebted to the Carribean. Kwesta holds his own as well. He raps about finding his way to the top in a mix of Swahili and English; a lesson for a new breed of Nigerian rappers about building beyond traditional audiences.
The remix of Ice Prince’s “Feel Good” is unwitting proof that the oldest names in the game can still pack heat on any given day. And while the new boys may be doing some justice, they have work to do.
Remember all those plans you had for when you turned 25? Fully furnished home, spouse, a child, maybe one or two master degrees in the bag? All that sound familiar to you?
Well, proving we all subscribe to a different Ye when it comes to quarter-century milestones is Nigerian Defender and Super Eagles captain – William Troost-Ekong.
Ekong was born in the Netherlands to a mixed Dutch and Nigerian family. His international career began when he represented the Netherlands at the Under-19 and Under-20 levels before his Nigerian heritage gave him the opportunity to make a senior international debut for Nigeria in 2015.
(Sidenote: remember friends, don’t let anyone ever talk you out of getting a double passport for your children, okay?)
He has so far appeared in at least 120 club matches and has played in 43 games between 2018 and 2019 alone. Most recent of which was the AFCON match between Nigeria and Cameroon, where the God that answereth by fire prevented a repetition of the AFCON Finals of the year 2000.
We caught up with Troost shortly after the victory on Saturday, and asked among other things, what his image of an ideal Nigeria is. To this, he had a simple response, “A Nigeria that allows for equal opportunity.” He is currently putting his money where his mouth is towards making this a reality.
A husband and father, Ekong has an added feather to his hat, seen in his burgeoning role as a humanitarian.
As a member of the Common Goal initiative co-founded by Manchester United midfielder, Juan Mata — Troost has taken on the tackling of Neglected Tropical Diseases (NTDs) head on.
NTDs are a diverse group of infections identified by the World Health Organization (WHO) as diseases that predominantly infect low-income populations in tropical countries, causing a large burden of morbidity and some mortality. This is despite the diseases being treatable and preventable at very low costs. It includes such diseases as Dengue fever, guinea worm disease, soil-transmitted helminths to name a few.
About 120 million Nigerians are currently affected by the scourge, a number Troost considers unacceptable. In partnership with The END Fund and Common Goal, Troost has started a campaign to counter the scourge.
We can put an end to neglected tropical diseases (#NTDs) that affect over 120m Nigerians by ensuring that people seek free treatment across the country. Join me, @TheENDFund & @CommonGoalOrg to bring an end to NTDs in our country by spreading this message. #endNTDspic.twitter.com/N0nlP7PPCy
— William Troost-Ekong (@WTroostEkong) June 19, 2019
With the AFCON taking center stage, Ekong looks to return to NTD prevention and treatment advocacy, following the finals, where Nigeria will hopefully be making an appearance, come July 19, 2019. Here’s to achieving more goals both on and off the pitch!
