For Igbo kids who waited for Phyno when Flavour Na bania was not enough.
Ba ka sia the (inter) net
By Sheba Anyanwu
“Your igbo is atrocious”.
My mother had mentioned this to me multiple times: on the phone most sundays, in the supermarket when she asks me to drag big sacks of rice or reach for the peppers on higher shelves ( because im taller now), at the dinner table when I try to ask her to please pass the salt. I do an unpleasant bastardization of Igbo that sounds so bad my parents often wince painfully, a sudden realization that the language has really escaped me, despite my numerous attempts. At least I’m trying or so I thought. By the end of 2013, I thought I had a better grasp of conversational igbo than i’ve ever had my entire life. My mantra has always been You can’t sell me , but I probably won’t know how to cry for help .
Despite these inconsistencies in an identity I steadfastly hold dear— being an igbo woman, I was not moved or swayed by the Flavour na bania’s and the other Igbo artists dipping in and out of the music scene in Nigeria. There was a feeling of incomplete. Verses embellished in melodic Igbo, or songs with choruses featuring one Igbo word or sentence seemed to be everywhere . No one was doing Igbo rap on full scale, no one was pushing boundaries or doing this to the point where it was culturally obvious that Igbo, hip hop , rap or what have you had officially intersected. No one was doing it for me. This isn’t to say that these aformentioned artists are not talented, but honestly I was tired of hearing about “ Ada” and “ Sweeties” and “ honeys”, winding waists and what not .I was tired of hearing about women who were loved and cherished and who were the mantlepieces for love and marriage. To be concise, I was bored. These emotions induced by music like this only serve certain purposes. Varieties of this type of music with Igbo lyrics made me feel like I was stuck in a vortex of Igbo “ that’s my wedding song” songs and a girl was not trying to dance to wedding songs in the club. I wanted an Igbo artist to come and fuck the game up seriously. I did not want to be held, caressed, soothed or wooed anymore . I wanted someone to just let it be, and do something different. I wanted to be in the club and wave my hands in the air like “AYYYYYYY” the same way my friends did when Olamide or wizkid comes on in the club( including me, though I barely understand half of what he’s saying, but “Turn Up” is a jam)
So I waited. I bid my time, and because this post is coming out in 2014, you can tell that it took years. I curbed the addiction with placebo pills of P-Square, Faze, Flavor na bania. And one day it was no longer enough. I was becoming aware of how sweet the cure was. I was tired of sugar. It was evident that we needed someone to step up to the plate and wear the cape to pioneer Igbo rap.
Then something happened.
Ba ka sia the (inter) net
Phyno is someone I had never seen in Nigerian music. No shade to Naeto C, but I thought he would be the one. Someone rapping in full and complete Igbo, with lyrics that were tough, rude, unapologetic and catchy still . I was hooked. Like an addict, I clung unto sentences that I could recognize “ I ma na Jesus na su igbo?” “ baka sia the net” . There was now someone out there who was taking “us” to a place we had not been in music. Putting our “dying” language on the lyrical map, fixing us somewhere in the Nigerian pop culture dictionary. People where using “Obago” and “Alobam” conversationally, and it felt damn good. Being Igbo, I had never felt more proud to hear his music in the club, and hobble around with other people who shared the same musical sentiments that I did screaming “ HA BU KA ALOBAM!”
Yet it is still difficult, reconciling how much the Nigerian music industry’s de facto language is Yoruba ( I see your pitchforks and prongs, settle down now) This isn’t an attack. There was has been notable conversation around how much Yoruba as a language, sounds so much better in rap. For a while, I believed it too, most of my favorite songs where Yoruba, and till date there are so many songs which I still have no idea what the lyrics mean( The most recent being Surulere by Dr Sid and Don Jazzy, and Davido’s Dami Duro since its 2012 inception). I didn’t think there could be anyone who could do it. Who could carry our weighted language, heavy on tongue and in accent and wind it around verse chorus verse bridge, but there he was .. making it look easy. But I’m not here to theorize success as if it were easy. Phyno has put in his time since 2002, working behind the scences as a producer and then coming forth, emerging as his own easel. His emergence, I hope, will be a door for people from other ethnic groups in Nigeria to showcase their talent in their native languages and dialects ( I await with eagerness a Hausa rapper to come out of the wood work )
This is such a great time for the Nigerian entertainment industry. Now, we can pick apart work contextually, lyrically and there is so much to choose from in variety ( maybe not so much with the lyrics. The proliferation of “ go down” “ wind your waist” in lyrics might need to be dissolved, but this is a topic for another time). All I know is, I was watered down by my native selections out there. I wanted something different, and it seemed like it would carry on forever; these songs we were used to . This isn’t for you to agree with, it’s just a feeling, but I know there are people out there who feel the same.
Sincerely,
An igbo girl who waited for Phyno, when Flavor na bania was just not enough
This essay was written and edited by Sheba Anyanwu. If you like what you just read, please hit the “recommend” button so others can find and share this as well.
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