Afro Nation Portugal was back for its sixth edition, returning to Praia da Rocha in Portimão from July 3–5 with another blockbuster lineup of Afrobeats, R&B, hip-hop, and global pop stars namely Burna Boy, Wizkid, Tyla, Asake, Mariah The Scientist, Gunna, Kehlani, Olamide and more. As expected, the festival's biggest names have dominated conversations online, but a closer look at this year's bill reveals another story unfolding.

Beyond the headliners, Afro Nation 2026 continues to spotlight the breadth of African music by bringing together artists from across the continent's distinct musical landscapes, alongside voices from the wider diaspora. The result is a lineup that reflects not only where African music is today, but how interconnected its regional scenes have become.

Among the artists drawing attention is Kenya's Bien, whose solo career has continued to flourish following Sauti Sol's hiatus. The Grammy winner whose catalogue as a songwriter is buoyed by collaborations spanning East, West and Southern Africa–arrived at Afro Nation as one of East Africa's most recognizable musical exports, representing a region that has become increasingly visible on international festival stages.

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Uganda's Joshua Baraka also joined this year's lineup, extending a breakthrough run that has seen his music resonate well beyond East Africa. His inclusion speaks to the growing presence of artists from countries that have historically been underrepresented at major global festivals centered on African music.

South Africa's amapiano movement remains one of Afro Nation's defining pillars, with DJ and producer Uncle Waffles, Kelvin Momo, Focalistic, MaWhoo and Madumane leading a deep roster that also includes Zee Nxumalo, Felo Le Tee, JazzWorld, Thukuthela, GL_Ceejay, Nkosazana Daughter, Royal MusiQ and Success. Rather than treating amapiano as a passing trend, the festival has consistently dedicated significant space to one of the continent's most influential genres. This year's lineup reflected that commitment, bringing together chart-topping performers, influential producers, DJs and vocalists whose collective impact has propelled the South African sound from its township roots to a global audience. 

Additionally, the lineup also embraced the diversity of the African diaspora. UK-Nigerian artist Darkoo and hitmaker Young Jonn joined the bill alongside Ghanaian duo R2Bees and veteran singer Wande Coal, while France's Niska and Brazilian superstar Ludmilla further expanded the festival's international reach; showing the many directions African and diaspora sounds continue to evolve.

That broader representation has become one of Afro Nation's defining strengths. While fans may have initially traveled to Portugal for arena-filling stars like Burna Boy or Tyla, the festival has increasingly become a space where audiences encounter artists from different regions, genres and cultures in the same weekend. It's one of the few events where East African pop, Nigerian Afrobeats, South African amapiano, Ghanaian hip-hop and Francophone rap can comfortably exist on the same lineup.

As African music continues to command global attention, festivals like Afro Nation are evolving alongside it. This year's lineup suggests that the story is no longer solely about a handful of internationally recognized stars. Instead, it reflects an ecosystem where established artists from across Africa and its diaspora are sharing one stage, introducing fans to the depth, diversity and dynamism of the continent's music scene.

Afro Nation Portugal 2026 ran through July 5, with performances spread across its main stage, Piano People stage and Afrotronic stage, reaffirming its place as one of the world's premier celebrations of African music and culture.

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His Second Single of the Year is Both a Dance Anthem and a Call for Action

At this stage, we trust that you have listened, partied well, and whined your waist thoroughly to Tiakola’s new summer banger “Mélo Décalé.” Whether it was during Fête de la Musique or ongoing festivals, we hope the mélo vibe fused with Coupé-Décalé, an Ivorian music staple, has brought you joy and a great time every chance it was played.  Now, unless you haven’t been paying close attention, Tiakola is one of the few French-Congolese artists who managed to reach global listeners beyond his core Francophone audience, notably his feature with Asake “BADMAN GANGSTA” landing him number one on the Nigerian Top Turntable Charts, the first artist from the Congolese diaspora to ever do so.

Behind the dance moves, the cityboy aesthetic, and the fun music video that was released alongside the single, there is a hidden message Tiakola wanted to convey. And that is the lack of monetization by streaming services for African artists. As of now, what the soft campaign through the song reveals is that out of 54 African countries, a shocking number of only 13 countries are officially eligible for the YouTube Partner Program. This includes Nigeria, Kenya, Ghana, Tanzania, Senegal, Algeria, Egypt, Libya, Morocco, South Africa, Tunisia, Uganda and Zimbabwe.

Why is this important, you may ask? While African music is growing exponentially at a rapid pace, now ever more away from just English-speaking nations, African artists must receive the support they need to sustain their craft. Since foreign investments are frugal and unreliable, online monetization is a key aspect in which artists from the continent can not only grow their careers, but also make a decent living for themselves. Although hacks are floating online on how to profit from monetisation, even if, due to your region, you’re ineligible for such, there is a clear underlying reason why those in control of these streaming platforms want to pick and choose what is deemed valuable and what is not.

Because if we’re speaking of numbers, then they are evidently there. In Ivory Coast and Congo alone, you can name more than 10 artists who reach at least a million monthly listeners, not to mention the number of supporters they gather during concerts, whether it is in each of their respective regions or abroad. What this decision shows, which has been in place for decades, is that there is a lack of understanding of the nuances of how culture spreads and travels, aside from Western norms. If execs understood how music listeners on the continent have to resort to alternatives such as pirating just to listen to their favourite artist, because online services are not accessible to them as it would in the West. This pivots a large number of potential streamers that would add to the existing numbers.

But truthfully, nothing could explain this phenomenon. Every month, there seems to be a new African artist breaking records, whether it is on stage, at awards shows, or even in music charts, so to sit there and pretend African music does not deserve the fruit of its labours is ludicrous. That is to say, the lack of monetization as well as lower revenues based on someone’s nationality should be abolished. Surely, platforms such as Spotify, which had an entire lineup of artists of African descent during FDLM, could use the same logic and decision-making in public as in private, understanding that there is a growing demand for  African music, as a collective, and fair compensation for everyone allows for their platforms to continue to benefit from just as much, right?

Wanatheplug isn't interested in making you comfortable. Spend a few minutes with the Nigerian poet and actor's work and you quickly realize that you're not stepping into the familiar cadence of spoken word poetry. Instead, you're dropped into something that feels deliberately disorienting–where humour collides with social critique, absurdity gives way to political commentary, and seemingly unrelated ideas eventually reveal themselves as part of the same thread. It's a style that demands your attention, not because it shouts the loudest, but because it refuses to follow the rules.

Born Wana Umoh, the poet is carving out his own lane through what he calls Twisted Poetry–a style that challenges convention, embraces unpredictability and invites audiences to question everything from governance to everyday life. At a time when poetry has found renewed life on social media, he's among a new generation of African storytellers proving that spoken word doesn't have to look or sound the way audiences have come to expect.

His performances rarely offer straightforward answers. Instead, they ask viewers to sit with discomfort, laugh unexpectedly and reconsider what they thought they understood. Whether he's on stage, on screen or online, Wanatheplug approaches storytelling with the same philosophy: surprise first, explanation later. 

In conversation with Deeds, he reflects on building Twisted Poetry, balancing art with algorithms, and why he'd rather leave audiences questioning than comfortable.

‍Stanley for Deeds: For people discovering your work for the first time, who is Wana beyond the Instagram handle? What story are they stepping into when they see/experience your work?

If you like my poems, you are being baptized. Cleansed from the cliche traditional style of poetry Nigerians deliver, with the fake accent and imperialized themes that are not relatable to Nigerians. You are suffocated and drowned  into a world of raw, unfiltered mind twisting poetry with your consciousness still intact. 

‍You've described yourself as a poet, an actor, and you're building your own platform, Twisted Poetry. Do those feel like separate identities to you, or are they all different ways of telling the same story?

So initially poetry was an outlet to get my face out there so directors would put me in films, but the films were not coming. I realized my style was different from other Nigerian poets. Every time I performed people questioned if it was even poetry and they were right to question. This is twisted poetry, a bold genre that arrests your attention and seems like it doesn’t make sense, a genre that has the balls to question policy, governance and traditional norms. They are not different identities, in all facets acting and poetry you still get me. Cause my mind is twisted so nothing changes no matter what art form I express my twist in.

When did storytelling first become part of your life? Was there a particular moment when you realized poetry was the language you wanted to speak through?

I started writing poetry 2 years ago, the first poem I wrote I performed it 10 minutes after I wrote it and I realized that I have to be a performance poet, there’s a crack-like high I get when I'm in front of a stage and I know that I can say anything and you must listen actively or passively because I’m the centrepiece at that point. Now the idea is to use mundane topics or items to communicate a bigger picture, an example is writing a piece about a watch but linking it to me “watching the governments’ time run out.”

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Your performances often move between humour, discomfort, vulnerability and social commentary. What usually tells you, "This experience deserves to become a poem"?

When the listener can segway between three or 4 emotions, then it deserves to be a poem. When you can’t predict the next line, it deserves to be a poem. When you feel like it doesn’t make sense in the middle and then it eventually makes sense in the end, then you rethink everything you just heard, then it deserves to be a poem.

Some of your work feels almost theatrical–you don't just recite a poem, you inhabit it. How much of a performance are audiences seeing, and how much is simply you?

I’ll be honest any time I get on a stage I don’t plan to be theatrical. I'm just being Wana, as cliche as that sounds, I'm just naturally animated so it leaks out when I'm in front of a crowd and I own it. 

‍Social media rewards speed, trends and short attention spans, yet poetry asks people to slow down and listen. Have you ever felt caught between making art and making content?

I make art the priority and would never compromise my style. But let’s be honest if you don’t play the content game no one will ever see your art. Personally I don't like posting on Tiktok, but it’s part of the game, SO I MUST PLAY. if I didn’t play the game you wouldn’t be able to discover me and conduct this interview. 

‍You're building Twisted Poetry at a time when spoken word is finding new audiences across Africa. What kind of creative space are you hoping to create, and what do you think has been missing from the conversation around poetry?

With twisted poetry I envision a battalion of artists that use their free will to lay their voices on issues everyone is too scared or unable to speak on by way of poems. In poetry what has been missing is balls. People are too scared of being perceived badly or being looked at like a fool. Honestly I don't care how foolishly you perceive me, as long as the message is passed, I’m happy.

‍Your work often reflects everyday life–the absurd, the beautiful and sometimes the painful. How do you stay observant enough to keep finding stories in ordinary moments?

I started content creation by making relatable skits, so I've been used to mimicking things I see in society. I stopped skits because I felt like I wasn't championing change through those videos, so I'm used to observing and putting real life experiences and scenarios into art. The good thing is, now the art has substance. I also stay observant by just being very open minded towards people. That way I can absorb your personality enough to write about it.

‍Has there ever been a poem that scared you to perform because it felt too honest? What happened after you shared it?

Yes, it’s called ‘Nigeria, it spits in my mouth and I swallow it.’ I lowkey thought I'd disappear. But unluckily for the “powerful” I'm still here. Nothing happened after I posted the poem, it was just very relatable to people because Nigeria has really spat on them and we are forced to drink it because of the flock mentality and we are programmed to not question things which makes our kink adaptation to suffering.

‍Beyond poetry, you're also an actor. Has acting changed the way you write, or has poetry made you a better performer?

I think it’s the other way around. Poetry is changing the way I act on screen. I have to consciously make an effort to not read a script like it’s a poem, but you wouldn’t notice. Still book me abeg. 

‍There's a generation of young Africans telling stories outside traditional publishing houses, theatres and television–often from their phones. Do you feel part of that movement, or do you think people sometimes overstate the role social media plays in today's creative landscape?

Yes, I'm part of the movement, very proud to be part, cause it just shows that art has no limitation, all you need is your phone and balls to post, sorry for mentioning balls a lot but it’s very very necessary in being able to share your art. The role social media plays is not overstated, it's an artist's bridge to like minded people, why should you downplay your connector. 

When you're writing, are you trying to leave people with answers, or are you more interested in asking questions that stay with people long after the performance ends?

I want to leave you 70 percent unsure of what I really mean. The remaining 30 percent is my homework to you, go and interpret my poem as you see fit. 

If someone watched every piece you've ever performed back-to-back, what patterns do you think they'd notice about the things that keep you awake at night? And five years from now, what do you hope they'll say you changed–not just as a poet, but as a storyteller?

If you watch every poem the main pattern is you’ll know that I don't care about perception. I would say anything in reason that passes the message no matter how outrageous. Five years from now I pray to deceive young people with my poems. Lure them in with a crazy hook and get them interested in the tribulations the government is putting them through as stated in my poetry. I would confess not all my poems are like that, but that’s the angle I'm going towards and I hope to be well cemented with that style in 5 years. It also goes beyond poetry. Twisted Productions will encompass every form of art, in due time. 

The song was danced to during the World Cup and was played everywhere at Fête de La Musique: “Pilé” by Mauvais Djo has the world in a frenzy. Yet, little is known about the artist behind the song of the summer, and what the lyrics actually mean. With honourable mentions like “Pélélé” by Fally Ipupa and, recently, “Fimbu” by Felix Wazekwa making rounds, they all seem to have something in common: their Congolese rhythmic and simple lyrics are memorable and make you want to dance along.

The Artist

Mauvais Djo is a Congolese-French artist who began releasing music in 2020. His early entries always focused on party music and football references, ironically calling listeners to dance to “Ballon D’Or” and “Maradona,” for example. It was in the year 2023, however, that he got his big break with “Y a une meuf”, reaching 7 million streams at the time. His biggest career move was forming the group Triangle des Bermudes with MC YOSHI and Kokosvoice.

Although “Pilé” has reached massive heights, it is interesting to note that Mauvais Djo himself has fallen under the radar, only accumulating roughly 13k followers on Instagram as we speak. This phenomenon can be explained as many established artists have performed and reinterpreted the song without giving credit to the original artist. This shows a grave issue in the music industry where sometimes a song becomes bigger than the artist, and their career may not benefit from the momentum.

The Lyrics

There have been many debates online on what the word Pilé means. In this particular context, it sounds like a double entendre. Firstly, when taking a look at the following lyrics, “Les billets toujours empilés, pilés, pilés, pilés,” the signification of the word pilé here is the shortened version of “empilés,” which means to pile up. So what Mauvais Djo is trying to say is that his money keeps on getting piled up.

Secondly, as the following lyrics state, “Michael Jackson a pilé,” this suggests that pilé here means “beat it,” but just mispronounced. This is very common in both Congolese and francophone circles, where most of the population does not primarily speak English. So instead of pronouncing the correct word, they will come up with their own, sounding similar yet not quite the same. Often enough, bringing a new definition into classic English words in music.

So what is Mauvais Djo actually saying? Like much of his previous songs, Pilé is a call for celebration. Mauvais Djo is celebrating his victory and asking, where are the haters who thought he would not succeed. This is evident when he states, “Où sont passés ceux qui nous disaient d’faire la queue?” This translates into where are those who told us to make a line, meaning Mauvais Djo should wait for his turn to be at the forefront. Those same people who doubted are not the ones who have to witness him piling up his money, which symbolises the fruit of his labour.

The Reaction

As mentioned before, the song that had been circulating across social media, mainly resonating with members of the African continent and its diaspora, became a global phenomenon during Fête de la Musique and the World Cup. Many artists and fans alike are hitting the trendy moves during their set and at popular events to show their appreciation for the viral song. A notable moment was Tayc during FDLM, who performed Pilé in front of a massive crowd, something he had already done in his own concerts.

The same can be said about sports teams, dancing to pilé on football fields or even in the changing rooms like the Paris Saint-Germain handball team. The song has become the perfect tune to celebrate one's victory with comrades. Those celebrations go even further, being played also during weddings where the married couple and friends take on the dance floor to show their pilé moves.

As of late, a DJ played the song during his set in Atlanta, and everyone in the crowd knew the lyrics word for word. What Pilé represents is a great moment in history, where it just happened to take off during the most important cultural occurrences, which are the World Cup, Fête de la Musique and many more gatherings planned for the summer.

Home has always been central to Mayra Andrade's music. Not simply as a place, but as a language, a rhythm and a memory that follows her wherever she goes. Across nearly two decades, the Cape Verdean singer-songwriter has built one of contemporary music's most distinctive catalogues, weaving together Morna, Batuque, Jazz, Afro-pop and Brazilian influences into songs that feel both deeply personal and universally familiar.

As Cape Verde experiences a defining cultural moment on the world stage, Andrade finds herself reflecting on the ideas that have shaped her work from the very beginning: identity, belonging, creativity and the quiet responsibility of representing a nation that has long introduced itself through its artists.

In conversation with Mayra, she speaks about vulnerability, motherhood, language, fashion and why, for her, home has always been something carried in song.

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Your music has always felt deeply intimate without becoming confessional. How have you learned to balance vulnerability with privacy in your songwriting?

"It took me years to start writing directly about my own life. In the beginning, I didn't think my stories were interesting enough, so I wrote about other people, their realities, the countryside, fishermen. I imagined lives that weren't my own because I wasn't yet ready to tell mine.

Over time, that changed. I first found a way to speak about myself through ethereal, almost cryptic poetry that people couldn't fully decode. But as the years passed, I learned how to express those personal stories more clearly while still leaving enough space for listeners to bring their own experiences into the music.

I realized that when I write from a place of deep personal truth, people don't just hear my story—they hear their own. They project their lives onto the songs, and in that way, the music becomes both deeply personal and deeply universal. My songs remain a little coded, but they're coded differently for everyone who connects with them."

It's really been a journey of embracing vulnerability. Instead of hiding behind complicated metaphors, I've learned to simply call things what they are to call an egg an egg and a giraffe a giraffe. I try to avoid making the writing too poetic that people lose sight of what I'm trying to say.

For me that came with maturity. It came with accepting who I am, accepting everything life brought me, and being willing to stand in front of the world with that honesty. I'm still discovering where I want to reveal that vulnerability and where I prefer to keep it for myself.

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Cape Verde has captured the world's attention through its remarkable World Cup journey. As someone who has spent decades representing the country through music, what has this moment felt like?

I think the whole world already knows that for us, it goes far beyond football.

When we watch our team walk onto the pitch, we don't just see athletes, we see resilience. We see sacrifice. We see generations of people who built something extraordinary without the support or infrastructure that many larger nations take for granted.

That fills me with immense pride.

I'm part of a generation that constantly had to explain where Cape Verde was. I remember people asking me to point to it on a map, and sometimes it wasn't even there. Music helped change that over the years, especially through artists like Cesária Évora, who introduced Cape Verde to so much of the world.

But nothing compares to the visibility the World Cup brings.

This moment allows the world to finally see that we exist to see our history, our culture, our resilience and our unity.

Cape Verde is an archipelago, yet we've always found remarkable ways to remain connected. We often say that our diaspora is our eleventh island. Cape Verdeans living abroad aren't separated from us—they're part of us. We nourish one another. They carry the islands with them, and the islands continue to carry them.

That's why this moment means so much. It's a pride that's difficult to put into words, and I'm incredibly grateful to be living through it.

"The diaspora is our eleventh island. They are not separate from us, they are part of us."

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You recently described the team's success as a reflection of "the greatness of Cape Verde." What does greatness mean to you beyond sport?

For me, greatness has never been measured by awards or numbers.

It's measured by the impact you have on people's lives.

This World Cup is already changing lives. It's changing representation. It's influencing the economy. It's expanding what's possible for young people growing up in Cape Verde and showing them they can dream bigger than they ever imagined.

That's what greatness is.

It's staying true to your values while creating something that genuinely moves people—not only through what you achieve, but through the hope you leave behind.

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Music has always been one of Cape Verde's greatest cultural exports. Do you feel this World Cup is allowing the rest of the world to discover another side of Cape Verde?

Yeah, absolutely. I mean, for many people, Cape Verde really starts with music, but now they can also discover our Athletes , our culture, our resilience, our talents, our ambition as well.

 I mean, "Ambition is something many Cape Verdeans have had to wrestle with. When you come from a small country, its size can sometimes shape the size of your dreams.

I hope our national team's Cinderella run at the World Cup changes that. I hope it expands what young Cape Verdeans believe is possible for themselves and gives us a new standard for how boldly we dream.

Beyond football, I hope this journey inspires people to discover Cape Verde more deeply. Our culture holds an incredible richness, and the human experience here is unlike anywhere else. That's something I'm immensely proud of."

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Cape Verde has always existed between continents—African by geography, yet deeply connected to Europe, Latin America and a global diaspora. How has that in-between identity shaped you creatively?

I've lived in several countries since I was six years old. I've experienced Cape Verde as a child, as a teenager and now as an adult looking back on those experiences from different places in the world.

Being able to understand Cape Verde both from within and from afar has shaped everything I create.

It has deepened my appreciation for my own culture while making me open to others. I've always been curious about different sounds, different traditions and different ways of seeing the world.

I've always believed music is a gift from God, and I've known for a long time that I wasn't here simply to repeat what already existed in Cape Verdean music. My journey has been about discovering what my own voice can contribute to that tradition.

Every album, every performance and every stage of my personal growth changes how I understand creativity. It's rooted in where I come from, but it's also a deeply personal journey.

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Are there sounds from your childhood that continue to find their way into your music?

Without question.

The rhythm of our Creole language is probably the strongest influence on my music. The way we express emotion, history and identity through Creole has its own musicality. It's a beautiful language, and that naturally shapes how I write and sing.

Then there are traditional instruments like the ferrinho, which is central to funaná. One of the things I'm most proud of is introducing that sound into contexts beyond traditional funaná groups and blending it with other musical worlds.

I also love working with the txabeta, the percussion used in batuque, where women sit together in circles creating rich, polyrhythmic rhythms. That sound has stayed with me since childhood.

The Cape Verdean cavaquinho is another instrument that's deeply connected to my identity. Even if I hear only the guitar for a few seconds, I can recognise whether it's Cape Verdean, Brazilian or Cuban. Our musicians have a very distinct musical fingerprint.

I always try to carry that identity into my music, no matter how experimental the production becomes.

At the same time, I never want my roots to become a limitation. They should be a foundation, not a boundary.

Like so many Cape Verdeans, I feel a responsibility to represent where I come from because, for so long, the world didn't know we existed.

I remember being asked to point to Cape Verde on classroom maps as a child, only to discover it wasn't even printed. Experiences like that stay with you. They shape how you move through the world, and they remind you why representation matters.

"My roots are my foundation, but they should never become my limits."

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You've always chosen to sing in Creole. Is preserving the language also a way of preserving Cape Verdean identity?

Absolutely.

Our language is one of the strongest expressions of who we are.

It's also what keeps Cape Verde connected across the world.

Cape Verdeans in the United States might speak English and Creole. Those in Portugal speak Portuguese and Creole. In France, it's French and Creole. In the Netherlands, it's Dutch and Creole.

Creole really is what unites us all.

No matter where we live, it reminds us that we're part of the same story.

That's why preserving the language isn't just about communication. It's about preserving identity, memory and belonging.

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Over the years, your visual language has become just as distinctive as your music. How intentional has fashion been in shaping your identity as an artist?

It's been a very conscious evolution.

Everything really shifted around the release of Manga. I wanted the visual world to reflect the music and, more importantly, the person I had become.

I've never been interested in following trends simply because they're fashionable. What attracts me is style, elegance and comfort. I want to feel feminine, powerful and completely at ease in what I'm wearing.

Where I come from, fashion wasn't traditionally part of conversations around music. But over the years I've come to appreciate how much clothing can communicate before you even sing a note.

I enjoy discovering pieces that tell stories, celebrate craftsmanship and carry a sense of history. Fashion has become another language for expressing emotion. It amplifies the mood of the music, but it also reveals another layer of who I am.

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Is there an aspect of Cape Verdean craftsmanship that you believe deserves greater international recognition?

Absolutely.

Our weaving traditions and embroidery are incredibly beautiful and deserve much more global recognition. Many of those techniques have roots that connect us to West Africa, particularly Guinea-Bissau, and they're part of a rich cultural heritage that's slowly becoming rarer.

One designer doing remarkable work in preserving that tradition is Angela Brito. She has lived in Brazil for more than two decades and became the first Black female designer to earn a place on the São Paulo Fashion Week calendar.

Every year she returns to Cape Verde to draw inspiration from its people, landscapes and traditions, incorporating local craftsmanship into her collections in a way that feels contemporary while remaining deeply respectful of its origins.

She's helping tell another side of Cape Verde's story—one that's rooted in craftsmanship, artistry and cultural memory.

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Looking back, what do you hope people understand about Mayra Andrade today that they may have misunderstood ten years ago?

I've always been a very private person.

I grew up in the public eye, so learning how to protect parts of myself became necessary. I was fortunate to begin my career before social media completely transformed the relationship between artists and audiences. There was more space to discover yourself without constantly performing your life online.

At the same time, social media has created incredible opportunities to connect directly with people who listen to your music.

One thing that always makes me smile is how surprised people are when they meet me.

They often tell me, "You're much funnier than I expected."

Because I protect my personal life, I think some people imagine I'm distant or reserved. But in reality I'm warm, I love people and I genuinely enjoy connecting with others.

The things that matter most, though, have always come across in my music.

Freedom has always been essential to me. Integrity has always been non-negotiable.

When I look back at my catalogue, what makes me proud isn't success or recognition—it's knowing every song was honest.

I love the fact that music allows complete strangers to feel closer to one another. It's one of the greatest gifts I've ever received, and I never take that for granted.

Whatever people misunderstood about me ten years ago, there's still time for them to understand it. I'm still growing. I'm still changing.

That's part of being human.

"Freedom has always mattered more to me than perfection. Integrity has always mattered more than success."

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ReEncanto feels less like a live album and more like a conversation between the artist you were twenty years ago and the woman you've become today. What surprised you most about revisiting those songs?

ReEncanto arrived at one of the most transformative periods of my life.

I conceived the project while I was pregnant, and by the time we recorded it my daughter was just five months old. I was exclusively breastfeeding while touring around the world, so it was both physically demanding and spiritually profound. That project reconnected me with something much deeper inside myself. I realised the songs had grown alongside me.

Motherhood changed my voice, not just physically, but emotionally. Songs I'd written twenty years earlier suddenly carried new meaning because I was singing them through completely different life experiences.That made me incredibly proud.

I've always believed that recording an album is only the beginning. You spend months, sometimes years, performing those songs before you truly understand them. By the end of a tour, the music has evolved. Your relationship with it has changed.

ReEncanto gave me the opportunity to tell those stories again with a new voice. That's really what the title means to me.

A re-enchantment.

A rediscovery.

Not only of the songs, but of myself. It's rediscovering my own voice and rediscovering my own songs and, and feed from them, which was really a beautiful, beautiful experience to do

Your music has always moved effortlessly between Morna, Batuque, Afro-pop, Brazilian influences, Jazz and electronic textures. Do genres still matter to you, or have they simply become different languages for telling stories?

I've always thought of genres as languages.

Just as you can move between different spoken languages in a conversation, music allows you to move between different sonic worlds without losing your identity.

Genres help people organise music, but they don't define how I create.

That said, I still feel a responsibility to honour the traditions of Cape Verdean music. Sometimes I'll consciously say, "This is a funaná," or, "This is a batuque," because our musical heritage is still being discovered by much of the world.

We're still writing new chapters for these genres.

I've never been overly interested in analysing exactly where every influence comes from. I absorb what moves me, it becomes part of me, and something personal comes out the other side.

That's the creative process.

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You're entering a new chapter of your career. What can we expect from what's next?

I'm entering this new chapter with much less fear.

Motherhood has changed me. It teaches you how powerful you really are. It also teaches you to trust yourself.

Maturity brings a different kind of freedom. You realise you don't have to explain yourself all the time. You don't have to please everyone. You simply have to create work that feels honest.

That's what I'm chasing now.

I want to experiment more. I want to keep discovering sounds that feel closer to who I am today, while continuing to honour where I come from.

Every project asks the same question: What do I want to leave behind?

Especially in a world that often feels uncertain, I want my music to offer something lasting—something rooted in beauty, curiosity and hope.

This year is about renewal.

It's about writing.

It's about building.

It's about beginning again.

And I genuinely believe the next album will be the best work I've ever made.

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Listening to Mayra Andrade speak, it becomes clear that Cape Verde's extraordinary World Cup story is only one chapter in a much longer narrative. Long before football drew the world's attention to the archipelago, artists like Andrade had been carrying its language, traditions and imagination across continents, quietly reshaping how people understood a nation many once struggled to locate on a map.

Today, that story is being told on a much bigger stage.

For Andrade, the moment isn't about proving Cape Verde belongs. It's about celebrating what has always been there: a culture defined by resilience, creativity and an unwavering sense of identity.

If the world has finally arrived at Cape Verde's doorstep, its artists have been preparing the welcome for decades.

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Another Paris Fashion Week has come and gone, but unlike previous seasons dominated by blockbuster debuts and creative-director musical chairs, Spring/Summer 2027 menswear felt noticeably more settled, and if one thing became clear over six days of Spring/Summer 2027 menswear, it's that fashion is entering a subtle, but no less exciting chapter.

Running from June 23 to 28, the schedule featured 33 runway shows and 37 presentations across the French capital, bringing together heritage houses, independent labels and the next generation of designers. It also marked the conclusion of a month-long menswear circuit spanning Florence, Milan and Paris, with the French capital once again acting as fashion's final and most closely watched stop.

This season, many designers appeared more interested in refinement. Familiar house codes were revisited instead of dismantled, tailoring softened instead of being aggressively deconstructed, and wearability has finally returned to the centre of the conversation. It wasn't the loudest Paris Fashion Week in recent memory, but it may have been one of the clearest reflections of where luxury fashion finds itself today: caught between the industry's expectation for constant innovation and an increasingly discerning consumer looking for clothes with longevity.

The weather itself was a huge topic of discussion across social media. Amid record-breaking temperatures that climbed above 40°C (104°F), and Paris experiencing one of its most intense heatwaves on record, conversations repeatedly returned to what people actually want to wear in an increasingly unpredictable climate. These have shifted increasingly toward breathable natural fibres, lightweight tailoring, adaptable layering and garments designed for rising global temperatures. Climate-conscious dressing no longer felt like a marketing narrative. 
If there was a defining mood this season, it was clarity. Below, let’s unpack some of our memorable fashion moments from PFW.

Jonathan Anderson continues shaping a new Dior

After one of the most anticipated creative director appointments in recent memory, Jonathan Anderson returned with another confident outing for Dior, continuing to establish what his vision for the house looks like beyond the excitement of a debut. The show imagined the Parisian promenade through theatre and social performance. Anderson looked to different moments in French history, mixing Belle Époque references with bourgeois tailoring, heritage-inspired tweeds, crystal embellishments and playful footwear adorned with lily pads. The collection embraced lightness, as continuously reflected in Dior's immense archive. It was elegant, proving Anderson is beginning to make the house's history feel remarkably contemporary.

Acne Studios celebrates thirty years

Turning thirty is often associated with confidence, and Acne Studios leaned fully into that sentiment. Jonny Johansson celebrated the Swedish label's anniversary by revisiting some of the signatures that helped define the brand, including its iconic 1996 denim silhouette, while incorporating photographic prints inspired by Acne Paper and the house's unconventional visual language. The show space itself mirrored the collection's reflective mood. Built as a sequence of interconnected geometric rooms, it encouraged audiences to consider where the brand has been and where it might go next. The clothes balanced familiarity with experimentation. Cropped aviator jackets, sharply pointed footwear, sculptural tailoring and oversized photographic prints reminded audiences why Acne continues to occupy its own distinctive space between art, design and fashion.

Rei Kawakubo imagines optimism

Comme des Garçons offered one of the week's most emotionally resonant collections. After recent seasons that grappled with conflict and uncertainty, Rei Kawakubo turned toward optimism for Spring/Summer 2027. Bright pinstripes replaced the designer's customary black palette, while psychedelic shades of coral, lavender, sage green and sky blue transformed traditional camouflage into something almost joyful. Military references remained, but instead of helmets, models wore oversized sun hats stacked high above their heads. Accompanied by a choral soundtrack, the collection imagined a future outside conflict without abandoning the experimental silhouettes that have long defined the house. It was an unexpected moment of hope from one of fashion's most uncompromising visionaries.

Yohji Yamamoto reminds us why black never goes out of style

Few designers understand black quite like Yohji Yamamoto. This season, the Japanese designer once again demonstrated the expressive possibilities of a restrained palette, presenting softly tailored jackets, sheer layered tops, painterly marble prints and beautifully textured velvet tailoring. The collection unfolded like a piece of performance art. Moments of crimson interrupted the monochrome palette before giving way to distressed knits, oversized outerwear and one unforgettable closing look featuring a masked figure carrying a crystal suspended from a metal chain. Quietly theatrical, it was Yohji at his most poetic.

If last season belonged to high-profile debuts, this season belonged to everything else that comes after.

Several of fashion's biggest creative appointments have now moved beyond the pressure of introducing themselves. Jonathan Anderson at Dior, Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez at Loewe, Michael Rider at Celine and Matthieu Blazy at Chanel all returned with collections that were noticeably more confident, less concerned with proving themselves and more focused on building lasting creative identities.

That sense of stability gave Paris Fashion Week an unusually cohesive feeling. Many houses refined ideas already introduced earlier this year, demonstrating that fashion's current reset should focus less on constant disruption and more on thoughtful evolution.

One thing that’s for certain is that Paris will always deliver fantasy. But this season proved that fantasy and practicality no longer have to exist separately. The strongest collections balanced imagination with wearability, craftsmanship with comfort, and heritage with modern life. If Spring/Summer 2027 has any takeaways, it's that fashion is becoming more thoughtful without sacrificing creativity, and Paris remains one of our favorite places to see those conversations take shape.

Ruth B has been making intimate music since before the platforms existed to carry it. Born in Edmonton to Ethiopian parents, she built her career on Vine with nothing but a piano and an instinct for honesty that has never quite left her - not through "Lost Boy" going platinum, not through "Dandelions" crossing 6.2 billion streams on TikTok years after its release, not through a surprise appearance at Barclays Center with Rod Wave that reminded an entirely new audience exactly who wrote the song they had been singing. Her new single "Didn't I" is out now. Her album Peace To Make arrives August 21. Ahead of its release, we spoke about writing music that outlives the moment it was made for, what it means to evolve without losing the thread, and what peace actually looks like when you finally find it.

‍Hello

Hi. How’s it going?

Fine. I’m great. How are you?

For anyone reading this and discovering you for the first time, how would you introduce yourself and what you do?

I would introduce myself as Ruth. I'm a singer, songwriter from Alberta, Canada.

"Dandelions" went viral years after it was released, on a platform that didn't even exist when you wrote it. What does it feel like to watch a song you wrote in one emotional state become the soundtrack to millions of strangers' completely different moments, years later?

It was absolutely incredible. It did kind of happen years after I had released the song, so it was totally crazy to see. I'm so thankful for TikTok for being able to spread it to the masses. I still love watching people's videos making use of the song.

You're Ethiopian, raised in Edmonton, and your sound draws from a very specific kind of intimate, diary-style songwriting. How much of that vulnerability comes from growing up between two cultures, and how much of it is just who you are regardless of where you're from?

I think that's such a priority for me, to make sure that it's all about the lyrics and story. A lot draws from my upbringing and my life in Canada, the simplicity and complexity of that, and the journey that I went on years later to do music. I think all of it plays a part in the vulnerability in my music.

The Barclays Center moment with Rod Wave was a surprise. What did it feel like to stand on a stage built around a song you wrote years ago, now belonging to a completely different audience that found it through someone else?

That was incredible. It was definitely the biggest crowd I'd ever played for. I wrote that song ten years ago about a whole different life I was living at that point, to see it come to life like that years later in such an iconic moment with Rod - it was absolutely unbelievable. It's one of my favourite memories.

Peace To Make is a title that suggests resolution, or at least the pursuit of it. What's the actual peace you were trying to make while writing this album?

The common thread between all the songs on the album is that they all kind of have a question mark - they're yearning for peace, or answers, stability, whatever you want to call it. That's the ultimate message of the album: trying to make peace with things. And ultimately, in the end, I do make peace with it.

When people discover you through "Dandelions" on TikTok, then go back and find "Lost Boy" from 2014, what do you hope they hear in the distance between those two songs? What's actually changed in you as a writer?

As a writer, it's kind of the same thing as evolving as a person - we grow, we learn. I have definitely evolved a lot and my writing has become so much better, and you can hear that in the music now. But I think it's similar in the sense that it's still very honest, lyric-driven, piano-driven, vulnerable music. I never want to get lost in the sauce and become overproduced. My goal is to continue to make intimate music.

"Didn't I" is your first single since this resurgence. Did knowing that "Mixed Signals" had just found new life through Rod Wave change how you approached writing for this new chapter, or did you deliberately try to separate the two?

I don't think I deliberately tried to separate the two. I just wanted to make a bridge between my first and second album and this album. I still wanted to keep it piano-focused, like "Mixed Signals" and like my first album, but just kind of evolve the production and evolve the writing as well.

‍"Lost Boy" started on Vine, basically the opposite of how artists are taught to build a career today. Looking back, do you think that accidental, unpolished beginning gave you something a more deliberate rollout never could have?

Definitely. The whole process of being on Vine and on the internet kind of taught me how to self-write, produce and create - it built an independence in me. Adding a team was like a major bonus versus a necessity. I think I'm very lucky. My roots definitely push me to be as creative as I can be.

Six JUNO nominations, one win, billions of streams. Is there a specific moment in this entire run where you actually felt like you'd arrived, or does that feeling keep moving further away the more you achieve?

I think it is constantly moving. In those moments, I feel such gratitude and it always blows me away. This was always my wildest dream as a kid, to have certain accolades. It still doesn't feel real, but I think your goals are ever-evolving and ever-changing.

"28" with Dean Lewis crossed 188 million streams. What does a successful collaboration actually require from you as a songwriter, versus what you need when you're writing entirely alone?

I think with collaboration, most importantly, I really want to feel connected with the person I'm working with. Music and songwriting is a personal thing for me - it's kind of hard to open up. If I can work with someone that I feel is like a friend, someone I get to know outside of the studio, that definitely helps me with that process.

As we wrap up, what would you like to say to the people who've stayed with you through all of this, and what should they be excited about next?

I want to say how thankful and how grateful I am for them. I know everyone says it, but I do mean it. I never take for granted the people who give me the opportunity to continue to make music. I just want them to be excited for my album coming out August 21st. I have worked so hard on this music and I hope that they leave it feeling empowered and just a little bit lighter

IG:@sophiannadozie

Before Bolapsd built a brand entirely on his own, his eye for the polo was already taking shape inside someone else’s label. At Ashluxe, the Lagos-born luxury streetwear house, Bola (real name Adebola Olaniyan)  worked across two collections that sharpened his design instincts considerably. Olympiad 1.0 launched in 2023 with cycling jerseys, Muay Thai shorts and football-style jerseys, leaning into the kind of athletic referencing Ashluxe had already built a reputation around. Olympiad 2.0 followed in 2024, adding crest logo polos and racing-striped polo T-shirts to that existing identity, a refinement of the sportswear language Ashluxe was known for rather than a reinvention of it. Bola launched his own label, Bolapsd, in 2023 while still working within Ashluxe, the two practices running alongside each other before one eventually became the focus.

The first Bolapsd designs leaned into a rockstar edge that never quite fit. Two months in, he stripped the brand back to clean silhouettes and everyday fits, built around his own taste rather than a target audience. The polo emerged from that recalibration - collared, crest-branded, carrying the slogan “This Life I Live Is Forever” and an est. MMXXIII marking his own timeline. It was quiet until Rema wore it in his “Fun” video, a placement Bola had anticipated but which landed with more force than expected. The polo became the brand’s defining piece almost overnight, reissued repeatedly in new colourways, each release functioning less as a reprint and more as a continuation of the same idea.

Bola has never hidden the reference. In December 2023, previewing an upcoming polo, he wrote plainly: “This is Lacoste, Ralph Lauren type fabric. so you know what I’m doing.” The material was the inspiration, openly stated, not the design itself - the piece he revealed carried his own crest, his own slogan, “This Life I Live Is Forever” stitched across the chest, an est. MMXXIII marking his own brand’s timeline rather than anyone else’s. That distinction got lost when the conversation resurfaced in April 2026, after an account shared a TikTok showing people wearing lookalike versions of Bola’s own polo. The accusation flipped entirely. One reply summed up what the moment actually proved: “More like Bola ‘referenced’ Ralph Lauren to make his own polo, nuance matters. This person COPIED Bola PSD, same text, same colors, same everything bro. Nobody is saying Bola invented Polos but come on, you guys are trying so hard to not see the real problem here.” What began as an open acknowledgment of material inspiration had, three years later, become proof of the opposite accusation entirely.

Bola first showed the pink polo at the Homecoming Summit 2026 on April 3rd, speaking as part of the streetwear panel. The release itself wasn’t confirmed until June 30, with the piece going live for sale Friday, July 3. It marks the polo’s first version designed explicitly with women in mind, a deliberate expansion rather than an afterthought. Bola has spoken openly about wanting to design for women for some time, framing the brand as something built for everyone rather than a single aesthetic crowd. “It’s a brand for everyone, not just a specific crowd,” he said of that philosophy, one that now extends past skull caps and ribbed T-shirts into the piece that defines him most.

His reference points trace back further than Lagos streetwear. Bola has named Virgil Abloh as the single biggest influence on how seriously he approached fashion in the first place, mirroring Abloh’s Canary Yellow graphic design archive with his own early portfolio work. The same polo, reissued and recoloured across years and now reflected in other brands’ work, has become less a single product and more a recurring statement.

IG:@sophiannadozie

From Morocco, Nigeria, to South Africa, A Playlist to Light Up Your Entire Summer

If you’re still looking for the playlist to lighten your summer, look no further! We have compiled our favourite new artists from the continent and beyond who are currently killing it in the music scene. Not only are those acts up-and-coming, but they have proven themselves to be promising new voices, bringing forth a unique sonic soundscape we haven’t heard before. Whether it is Bongology, Moroccan Gwana, or Jamaican Dancehall, they have distinctly fused their sound with household names such as Neo Soul, Konpa, and so much more.

Deeds Magazine has compiled the discovery list you do not want to miss. Unless you haven’t heard them throughout Fête de La Musique or on social media, this is the perfect opportunity for you to learn about them before they get big and it is too late.

Che Mario

Ché Mario is a South-African Jamaican emerging musician from North West London with a touch of golden riddim. Produced by yo Caleb!, “U Da Cake,” which catapulted online through a breathtaking cypher, has since become a club anthem everyone can’t stop vibing to. Its unique Dancehall and modern electronic vocals make him a feared component in his league. Co-signed by Nigerian sweetheart Ayra Starr, its reach has only garnered greater heights, making Ché Mario a new artist everyone should absolutely pay close attention to.

(D) Juno

(D) Juno is a Congolese-French emerging singer who has taken the Parisian streets by storm. Ever since she dropped her Bongo classic “BB Bringue,” everybody just can not get enough of her. Produced by Panafriqana, a member of the Bongology collective, the song first appeared on socials as a teaser before exploding into stardom, surpassing 1 million Spotify streams as of late. Co-signed by the likes of Theodora, the single has only become bigger since its release. We would advise you to keep an eye on her.

Ino Casablanca

Ino Casablanca is a Moroccan-French artist who knows no sonic limitations. Truth be told, the starlet has been grinding for years. It is his 2025 hit single; however, “DIMA RAVE” sparked an interest among global listeners and is being played throughout this summer. Often nicknamed the French Bad Bunny, Ino’s music style takes a nudge at his Moroccan roots, Spanish background, and French inheritance. For most, this is their first impression of Gwana, mixed with Caribbean sounds and so much more. Ino is someone you can’t look away from.

Pz

Pz is a Senegambian vocalist from Atlanta who is just one of the most exciting new rockstars to come out recently. His latest project, “No Turning Back,” has everybody watching with excitement, including Opium king Playboi Carti, who has co-signed him numerous times. Often interpreted as avant-garde, his experimental trap sound is the new talk of the town, spreading throughout cool kids' Gen Z circles and fashion scenes. Pz is definitely destined for greatness.

Solana

Solana is a Nigerian singer-songwriter where Yoruba traditions meet the new wave. Her song “Okunkun,” through its tasteful visuals and alternative sound, has garnered massive attention since its official release. She almost feels familiar yet different, encapsulating a rhythm uniquely hers. There is no one like her right now.

Overview

It seems like every other week, there is a new artist coming out of the shadows of the internet, but only a few manage to persist and remain on our playlist. Not only have those emerging acts maintained relevance, but they also offer something new to the table, only growing into the hearts of global listeners. It is too early to determine where their artistry may go from here; however, one thing is sure: we’re expecting the most gut-wrenching bangers to continue to wreck our speakers all summer.

From Davido and Tyla to Ayra Starr, here's a look at the African albums set to define the rest of the summer.

With the heatwave in full swing, this summer is shaping up to be hot as is African music. While Afrobeats and Amapiano continue to dominate playlists and festivals stages around the world, some of the continent's biggest artists are preparing to either release new albums or build on projects that have already sparked a conversation.

From South Africa’s Tyla entering her sophomore era to Davido’s promise of a return to his signature sound, here’s a look at some of the releases fans should have on their radar. 

‍Tyla – APop (July 24)

After introducing herself to the world with her Grammy-winning breakout era and the global success of ‘Tyla,’ the South African star is ready for the next chapter. Her sophomore album, ‘A*Pop,’ has been positioned as a more mature evolution of her sound, blending amapiano, pop and R&B while showcasing how much she has grown since the "Water" days to become one of Africa's biggest crossover stars. The record album arrives upon enormous expectation with a rollout that already includes the hit singles ‘Chanel’ and ‘She Did It Again’ featuring Zara Larsson, signalling a project that leans confidently into a mainstream sound  without abandoning the South African influences that first made her stand out.

Davido – ORIADÉ (July 31)

Davido’s Album Announcement Trailer | Courtesy of Davido’s Youtube

Just a year after ‘5ive,’ Davido isn't slowing down. His sixth studio album, Oriadé (a Yoruba portmanteau for "ori" meaning head/destiny and "adé" meaning crown) arrives at the tail end of the month–preceded by a lead single, ‘I Know Who I Be,’–as the Nigerian superstar celebrates 15 years in music. The Grammy-Nominated artist has described the project as a return to the African sound that first made him a household name. At 13 tracks, it will also be his shortest studio album to date. Expectations are naturally high following his previous, which produced the hit ‘With You’ featuring Omah Lay and earned a nod from the Recording Academy.

‍Ayra Starr – Starr Girl (August 14)

Following ‘The Year I Turned 21,’ Ayra Starr’s upcoming LP ‘Starr Girl' promises an even broader sonic palette. The rollout has already included singles such as ‘Tornado’ and ‘Where Do We Go’, while previous releases including ‘Gimme Dat’ featuring Wizkid and ‘Who's Dat Girl’ with Rema have fuelled anticipation.

Between her Roc Nation partnership, expanding global collaborations with reports suggesting features with Doechii, Leon Thomas and Zayn, and increasingly adventurous production choices on the new record–all which could mark another major leap in her already impressive career–underlining ‘Sabi Girl's’ increasingly international ambitions.

Tiakola – WPOINTM (September 25)

French-Congolese artist, Tiakola also has his next studio album, ‘WPOINTM,’ confirmed. The hitmaker is expected to build on the melodic rap and R&B sound that has seen him featured on Asake's ‘M$NEY’ and Wizkid's latest, in addition to being one of Europe's most exciting artists, with fans already counting down to the release. In the meantime, read our 2022 Deeds cover story with Tiakola for a closer look at the artist behind the music before this next era begins.

Wizkid – Sexy (TBA)

A new era from Wizkid might be near as well. During an exclusive pre-release event hosted by Deeds in Paris last week, the Afrobeats superstar revealed that his seventh studio album will be titled ‘Sexy,’ ending months of speculation about what would follow 2024's ‘Morayo.’ While he stopped short of confirming a release date, the announcement immediately sparked excitement among fans eager for his next full-length project. With little known about it beyond its title, it is certainly one of the most anticipated African releases still expected before the end of the year. 

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Burna Boy – (TBA

Following the success of his 2025 album ‘No Sign of Weakness’ Burna Boy has already set the stage for his next era, confirming that a new project is expected before the end of 2026 alongside a major global tour. While details around the album remain under wraps, anticipation is high after a year that has seen the Grammy-winning artist continue expanding his international reach. 

Part of that momentum comes from his prominent role in the 2026 FIFA World Cup soundtrack. Burna Boy teamed up with Shakira on ‘Dai Dai,’ the tournament's official song, which premiered during the opening ceremony in Mexico City and introduced his music to one of the world's biggest sporting audiences. With a new album on the horizon and another blockbuster global collaboration under his belt, fans will be watching closely to see where the self-proclaimed African Giant takes his sound next.

With confirmed releases from Tyla, Davido and Ayra Starr still to come–and highly anticipated albums from Wizkid and Burna Boy expected later this year; ‘26 is shaping up to be another landmark year for African music on the global stage.

IG:@_stanleykilonzo

To be a part of the crowd at Bad Bunny’s DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS World Tour as part of his London stop playing to a sold out crowd at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium was to witness something truly special. It should come as no surprise that the Puerto Rican superstar put on a show that surpassed any sort of expectation anybody would have seeing him live. The sneak peaks given from his 2 month No Me Quiero Ir de Aquí Puerto Rican Residency which took place last year and then again earlier this year as part of his incredible Super-Bowl Halftime Show performance indicated that this tour was going to be worth attending and a show not missing.

In support of his latest GRAMMY Award winning album DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS he came out and brought the album to life in a way that was exceptional and then some. The show which ran for a total of 3 hours felt more of a party and celebration than something which had been crafted specifically for the show. Yet there was an intentionality behind the whole show and everything he brought.

Beginning the show on the main stage donning a suit which considering the previous heatwave that has swept across Europe was a brave move. He was accompanied by his Salsa band behind him, one of the many displays of his cultural heritage he brought to the show. Not to mention the strong musicianship that each of the players brought to stage. 

There was something to be said about the fact throughout the entire show he only spoke in Spanish and even though most of the crowd would’ve been Spanish speaking even for those who weren't there was nothing that felt disconnected as you could very much feel and hear the sentiment as to what was being said. For the reality of him being a boy coming from Puerto Rico and finding himself on stadium shows around the world it was very clear that that moment and this particular moment in his career is one for the books. The album which is so clearly rooted in his love for Puerto Rico and the cultural heritage it has brought to his artistry and his fans not only locally but internationally across the world. The show was a beautiful display of that and felt like the witness of a moment that will forever be significant to his career.

The setlist was also a strong display of the catalogue of music he has built throughout his career since his almost decade long appearance with the release of his debut album back in 2018. Whilst the show was heavily consistent with tracks off DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS he brought out favourites and other songs from his catalogue. Crafting the show from start to finish there was rarely a moment to sit down and take a break as the energy rose from start to finish. Starting on the main stage which set the introduction of the vibes. The show began with  LA MuDANZA off the album before going into a Salsa version of “Callaíta” he was also joined by opening act Chuwi for their collaborative track “WELTiTA” which they had previously played during their own headline show that took place on Friday night. Giving an ode to their surroundings They played Wonderwall by Oasis as an instrumental on the Cuatro before going into to TURiSTA. Plenty of favourites had their time on the setlist including BAILE INoLVIDABLE, NUEVAYoL, VeLDÁ, VOY A LLeVARTE PA PR and of course the standout song DtMF. Also bringing through his other fan favourites was “ LA CANCION" off his joint project with J Balvin, Ni bien ni mal which was an exclusive for this show. DÁKITI and even had a guest appearance by Blur and Gorillaz man Damon who joined him on the piano for Tormenta and Clint Eastwood. Even with the show that ran for 2 hours and 45 minutes tracks that were missed meant it could have kept going for longer. 

The production and everything that accompanied the music only served to enhance the experience as well. Before fans entered the stadium those that arrived when doors opened were given a piece of memorabilia which was a cut out of a camera fitted with a light that served as the flash on a lanyard which lit up at various points throughout the show. Not the mention the dancers who also accompanied him on stage. His second stage which also known as “La Caista” and is a full scale pink replica of a traditional working class Puerto Rican home also brought that flare as a space which housed VIPs and fans who were immersed within the show with him performing among them as he stunted in a full Adidas hoodie and shorts combination and using its roof as another stage. 

One thing that is evident and prominent is the connection that he has to his fans. As well as being immersed within them he also took the time to greet those that were at the barriers and not just just giving quickfire interactions but holding a meaningful connection that clearly meant something. By way of translation he addressed the crowd many times throughout the show expressing his love and gratitude and speaking about uplifting each other living in the moment, loving each other and ourselves. As well as embracing and enjoying the moments of life and creating memories and moments which captures the essence of the themes and messages addressed on the album. 

As this moment stands with the release of the album and all that followed by way of the residency, winning the GRAMMY for Album of the Year, a historic Super Bowl Half-time Show and now the DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS World Tour. It truly does feel like this is a special and significant moment in his career. And as crowds cheered Benito following DtMF he was visibly emotional and taken in with all the love he received from the crowd. Bad Bunny is truly in a league of his own and best believe we will be present the next time he touches down in the UK which hopefully won't be for too long. 

CREDIT ERIC ROJAS

The 2026 BET Awards took place Sunday, June 28, at the Peacock Theater in Los Angeles, hosted by Druski, the youngest host in the show’s history, with MC Lyte returning as announcer.

T.I. opened the night with a high-energy performance of “Let ’Em Know” off his new album KILL THE KING, rapping part of the track from inside a car alongside his 21-year-old son, Clifford “King” Joseph Harris III.

Teyana Taylor was the story of the night, winning four awards across film and music - Icon of the Year, Best Actress, Video Director of the Year, and the inaugural Fashion Vanguard Award. Janet Jackson presented the Icon of the Year award, and the moment moved Taylor to tears before she reached the stage. “I worked my ass off for 20 years for this,” she said. “I’m not accepting what I’ve earned with arrogance. I’m accepting what I’ve earned with gratitude.” Taylor has had a record-breaking year, also earning a Golden Globe win, an Oscar nomination for One Battle After Another, and a Grammy nomination for best R&B album for Escape Room.

‍Cardi B won Best Female Hip-Hop Artist for AM I THE DRAMA? - her first full album since 2018’s Invasion of Privacy and her first win in the category since 2019. “Three babies later, I put the album out, honey,” she told the crowd. “I overcame my fear, my anxiety and I put it out.” She later delivered a full production performance featuring dancers, a motorcycle and a casino-themed set.

‍Clipse‘s Let God Sort ’Em Out won Album of the Year, beating out Cardi B and Bruno Mars among others. Leon Thomas won Best Male R&B/Pop Artist for the first time, defeating repeat winners Chris Brown, Usher and Bruno Mars. Kehlani won Best Female R&B/Pop Artist for the first time as well, ending SZA’s three-year run in the category. Doechii and SZA won the BET Her Award for “girl, get up.” “Y’all don’t understand how hard me and SZA worked putting that record together,” Doechii said. SZA responded: “Anything for you, always!”

The night’s most emotional stretch belonged to Ms. Lauryn Hill, who received BET’s first-ever Living Legend Icon Award. The War and Treaty opened the tribute, followed by a rotating lineup including Doechii, SZA, Tierra Whack, Tems, Doja Cat, Nas, Lizzo, Rapsody, Alexia Jayy, Queen Latifah and Common, performing a stretch of Hill’s catalogue from “Ready or Not” to “Killing Me Softly.” Hill’s children - Selah, Joshua “YG” and Zion Marley - also joined the performance, while Hill watched from her seat, singing along to her own songs being celebrated in real time.

The show also paid tribute to D’Angelo, who died in October at age 51 following a battle with pancreatic cancer. His children, Michael Archer Jr., Imani and Morocco, opened the moment themselves before the performance began. Sylvia Rhone received the Ultimate Icon Award, and Jazzy’s World TV -  16-year-old journalist Jazlyn Guerra -  won the Rising Star Award.

Among the African artists nominated, Burna Boy featured on Gunna’s “wgft,” up for Best Collaboration, while Tyla‘s “Chanel” and Dave and Tems’ “Raindance” both received Viewers’ Choice nominations. Wizkid and Asake were nominated for Best Group. None converted their nominations into wins, though Tems’ presence in the night’s biggest tribute moment, alongside Hill’s own family, stood out as one of the evening’s most significant African appearances.

IG: @sophiannadozie
Credit: Teyana Taylor 

Credit: Cassidy Velmech

Wizkid has confirmed the title of his seventh studio album as Sexy. This was announced to a room full of music and culture’s brightest and biggest stars during an exclusive pre-release party hosted by Deeds Magazine at Cova Club in Paris on Thursday, June 25.

The Grammy-winning singer, born Ayodeji Balogun, took to the mic himself to break the news. “Paris, let me hear you say ‘yeah yeah.’ Yeah, we got the new album coming out,” he told the crowd. “Real soon, and the name of the album is ‘Sexy,’ baby.” No release date or tracklist has been confirmed. The reveal followed weeks of speculation after Wizkid posted a single cryptic word on X - “Album” - alongside studio photos taken with Pharrell Williams in France.

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The Paris event, part of Deeds’ Fashion Week takeover, drew a packed room of heavy-hitters from the world of music, culture, and sports including Shallipopi, Alvin Kamara, Quavo, Blaqbonez, Musa Keys, Young Jonn, Tiakola, Pasuma, Smallgod, BabyDaiz, Baby Wacko, and many more. Despite being billed as an album listening party, attendees reportedly heard no new music from Sexy itself  - Wizkid spent much of the night dancing to older records, including a moment vibing alongside Shallipopi to the rapper’s hit “Laho.” One fan summed up the mood online: “Only Wizkid will do an album listening party where no songs on the album are played or listened to. Lmao, he’s still as unserious as ever.”

Fans have already begun theorising about the album’s direction based on the title alone. Several pointed to a possible R&B turn, while others connected the reveal to a line Ayra Starr dropped during her press run for their collaboration ‘Gimme Dat,’ when she crowned Wizkid “the king of sexy Afrobeats.” That nickname now reads less like a compliment and more like a preview.

Sexy will be Wizkid’s seventh studio album, following ‘Morayo’ (2024), which honoured his late mother Jane Dolapo Balogun. His catalogue spans ‘Superstar’ (2011), ‘Ayo’ (2014), ‘Sound From The Other Side’ (2017), ‘Made In Lagos’ (2020) and ‘More Love, Less Ego’ (2022). The announcement arrives during a milestone year for the singer, who is marking 15 years since his breakout and will headline Afro+ Fest in Washington, D.C. this September to commemorate the anniversary.

Credit: Cassidy Velmech
IG: @sophiannadozie

Few artists have had a front-row seat to Afrobeats' global rise quite like Wizkid. Fewer still can claim to have helped engineer it. Over the last fifteen years, the Lagos-born artist has evolved from a teenage sensation into one of the most influential figures in contemporary music, building a career defined by chart-topping records, sold-out arenas, industry accolades, and cultural milestones that have helped reshape perceptions of African music worldwide.

What began with local radio hits and regional acclaim eventually became something much larger. Alongside a generation of African artists pushing the genre forward, Wizkid emerged as one of the defining faces of Afrobeats' international breakthrough, helping carry sounds born in Lagos to audiences across Europe, North America, Asia, and beyond.

Today, his legacy extends far beyond streaming numbers or chart positions. It can be found in the global appetite for African music, the doors opened for younger artists, and the growing recognition of Afrobeats as one of the defining musical movements of the 21st century.

Ahead of our upcoming album pre-release listening experience in Paris, we revisit the milestones, records, and defining moments that have shaped Wizkid's remarkable rise and cemented his place among music's most important global stars.

The Superstar Era That Started It All

When ‘Superstar’ arrived in 2011, Nigerian music was entering a period of rapid transformation. The country's pop scene was becoming increasingly ambitious, driven by a generation of artists determined to create music that could compete on an international level while remaining distinctly African.

At just twenty years old, Wizkid found himself at the center of that movement. The album produced a string of defining records, including ‘Holla At Your Boy,’ ‘Pakurumo,’ ‘Don't Dull,’ and ‘Tease Me,’ songs that quickly became staples across radio stations, clubs, and university campuses throughout Africa. More importantly, Superstar introduced listeners to an artist whose instincts extended beyond conventional pop stardom.

His ability to blend Nigerian influences with contemporary R&B, dancehall, and pop created a sound that felt both local and globally accessible. That balance would later become one of the defining characteristics of Afrobeats' international appeal. For many fans, Superstar was simply the arrival of a promising young artist. In hindsight, it was the foundation of a career that would help redefine African music's place within global culture.

How "Ojuelegba" Changed Everything

Still on the rise, ‘Ojuelegba,’ is perhaps Wizkid’s career’s turning point. Released on his self-titled 2014 LP, ‘Ayo,’ the song reflected on his journey through one of Lagos' most recognizable neighborhoods, documenting ambition, struggle and perseverance with a level of vulnerability that distinguished it from many contemporary hits.

The record resonated deeply throughout Africa, but its influence soon expanded far beyond the continent. After attracting the attention of British grime star Skepta and eventually Drake, 'Ojuelegba’ received an official remix that introduced Wizkid to a wider international audience. Its significance cannot be measured solely through streams or chart positions. The song became one of the earliest modern Afrobeats records to demonstrate that African music could travel globally without abandoning its cultural identity. Rather than adapting himself for international audiences, Wizkid watched international audiences adapt to him.

Looking back, ‘Ojuelegba’ represented more than a successful single. It served as a bridge between regional stardom and global recognition, helping establish a pathway that countless African artists would later follow.

The One Dance Effect

Come 2016, and ‘One Dance’ dominates. The Drake global smash featuring Wizkid and Kyla became one of the defining songs of the streaming era. The record topped charts across multiple countries and ultimately became the first song in Spotify history to surpass one billion streams. For Wizkid, the collaboration represented a dramatic shift in visibility. Audiences who had never encountered Afrobeats suddenly found themselves dancing to rhythms and melodies rooted in African music traditions. What made the achievement particularly significant was that the song's success wasn't framed as a niche cultural moment–it was mainstream popular culture at its absolute peak.

The industry's response was immediate. Major labels increased their investment in African talent. International media outlets began paying closer attention to Afrobeats. New audiences became curious about the artists shaping the genre's future. Nearly a decade later, the ripple effects of the hit remain impossible to ignore.

The momentum generated by 'Ojuelegba' and 'One Dance' eventually led to Wizkid signing a landmark global deal with RCA Records, positioning him among the first African artists to secure major-label backing on that scale. 

Collaborations That Expanded the Map

As Wizkid's profile continued to grow, so did the scale of his collaborations. Over the years, he has worked alongside some of the biggest names in music, including Beyoncé, Chris Brown, H.E.R., Justin Bieber, Skepta, Ella Mai, Brent Faiyaz and more. Yet what makes these collaborations notable isn't simply the star power involved. It's the fact that Wizkid managed to maintain his artistic identity throughout them.

His involvement in Beyoncé's ‘The Lion King: The Gift’ project marked a particularly important milestone. ‘Brown Skin Girl’ won Best Music Video at the 63rd Grammy Awards, earning Wizkid his first Grammy and further cementing his position on the global stage. The achievement reflected a broader shift taking place within global music. African artists were no longer being invited into international conversations as occasional guests. They had become central contributors shaping the direction of contemporary popular culture.

The Made in Lagos Phenomenon

While Wizkid had already achieved international success, ‘Made in Lagos’ elevated him into an entirely different category. Released in 2020, the album arrived during a period of global uncertainty and quickly established itself as one of the defining projects of the decade. Built around understated production, rich melodies, and a refined sense of confidence, it showcased an artist operating at the height of his creative powers.

At the center of its success was ‘Essence,’ featuring Tems, the song evolved from a fan favorite into a genuine global phenomenon. Its rise felt organic, fueled by listener enthusiasm rather than traditional industry machinery. Eventually, it became the first Nigerian song to reach the Billboard Hot 100 Top 10, helping introduce Afrobeats to audiences on an unprecedented scale. More importantly, the track changed perceptions by demonstrating that African music didn't need to conform to existing industry expectations to achieve mainstream success. Instead, the industry was beginning to adapt to Africa. The album also became one of the longest-charting African projects in Billboard history, further demonstrating Afrobeats' growing commercial power outside the continent. 

Conquering the World's Biggest Stages

Streaming success tells one story. Live performance tells another. Throughout his career, Wizkid has repeatedly demonstrated an ability to convert popularity into real-world audience demand. From selling out London's Royal Albert Hall to becoming  the first African artist to headline three consecutive nights at the O2 Arena, his live achievements have consistently expanded expectations surrounding African artists.

In 2023, he reached another historic milestone when he became the first African artist to headline Tottenham Hotspur Stadium in London. The significance of the moment extended beyond attendance figures. Stadium performances occupy a different category of live entertainment altogether, reserved for artists capable of mobilizing massive audiences across countries, demographics and generations. By reaching that level, Wizkid wasn't simply breaking records. He was redefining what was possible for African performers on the global stage.

The Legacy of the Blueprint

More than a decade after his breakthrough, Wizkid's influence extends far beyond music. His career helped create pathways for a new generation of African artists seeking global audiences. He demonstrated that international success did not require abandoning local identity. He proved that music created in Lagos could resonate in London, Los Angeles, Paris, and beyond.

Even as he enters a new chapter, Wizkid continues to evolve. His 2024 album ‘Morayo’ offered one of the most personal projects of his career, revealing a more reflective side of the artist while reinforcing the creative versatility that has defined his longevity. 

Today's Afrobeats landscape is larger, more visible, and more commercially powerful than ever before. While many artists contributed to that growth, Wizkid remains one of its most important architects. His achievements can be measured through awards, streams, sold-out venues, and chart records. Yet his greatest accomplishment may be something far less quantifiable. He helped change the way the world listens to Africa–and in doing so, helped reshape the global music landscape itself. 

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Cover Credit: Kevin Amato / GQ South Africa

Pharrell Williams has not produced a disappointing season since taking over as Louis Vuitton’s menswear creative director in 2023, and that consistency is precisely what makes his tenure worth examining closely. Every collection has been wearable, considered, and recognisably elegant, built around silhouettes that rarely stray far from what came before them. The choirs, the rivers, the architecture, and the game boards have, however, been among the most ambitious theatre contemporary fashion has produced, and the distance between the two is the most revealing thing happening at the house right now.

His debut established the formula in full. For Spring/Summer 2024, Williams shut down Paris’s Pont Neuf, one of the city’s oldest bridges, with guests arriving by boat to watch gospel choir Voices of Fire perform an original composition he produced himself, accompanied by pianist Lang Lang and a live orchestra. Jay-Z performed after the show closed. Beyoncé, Rihanna, Zendaya, A$AP Rocky, and LeBron James sat front row, lending the evening the texture of a cultural event rather than a seasonal presentation. The clothes themselves, by contrast, drew immediate comparisons to Williams’s own earlier Nigo and Human Made collaborations with the house, built on slim-fit tailoring, a pixelated “Damoflage” reinterpretation of the brand’s Damier print, and a reworked Speedy bag. Critics described the collection as disappointingly safe even as nobody described the staging surrounding it as anything less than spectacular.

The bags told the same story in miniature. Williams’s debut also introduced the Millionaire Speedy, a reworking of Louis Vuitton’s nearly century-old Speedy silhouette in crocodile leather with gold hardware and diamond-encrusted closures, priced at $1 million and available only by invitation. The bag itself altered nothing structural about a shape the house has sold since the 1930s. What changed was the material, the mythology, and the audience permitted to buy it. Williams described the design as channeling “the attitude and hustle mentality of Canal Street,” the Manhattan strip famous for counterfeit luxury goods, recreating the soft, slightly blurred monogram effect associated with knockoffs through a deliberate, controlled silkscreen process rather than disowning it. Rihanna and LeBron James appeared in the campaign. The bag became one of the most discussed luxury objects of the year without requiring a single new silhouette, the clearest possible miniature of the formula playing out across his entire tenure: change the story being told around the object, leave the object substantially alone.

That same pattern scaled further with each successive show. For Spring/Summer 2026, Williams transformed the forecourt of the Pompidou Centre into a 2,700 square foot Snakes and Ladders board, the product of months of collaboration with Studio Mumbai and architect Bijoy Jain. Beyoncé’s arrival was choreographed as a moment within the show itself, with guests becoming playing pieces on a structure built to monumental scale. The collection drew its inspiration from India as a source of creative energy rather than from specific silhouettes or garments, producing clothing that was handsome and wearable but conceptually thinner than the 2,700 square feet of set design surrounding it. 

By Fall/Winter 2026, Williams had extended his ambition into architecture entirely, unveiling DROPHAUS, a “timeless future living concept” developed with Japanese studio Not A Hotel and installed inside a Zen garden at the Louis Vuitton Foundation. “Drophaus is my vision of the future,” he told Wallpaper Magazine. “I’m not an architect. I’m a solution builder.” Critics at Numéro described the collection itself as fairly classic, grounded in earthy, utilitarian tones, conceding that bolder stylistic statements might have been hoped for before acknowledging that bold statements were never really the point. 

The Spring/Summer 2027 Pre-Collection, “Whatever the Weather,” continues the approach without deviation, offering travel-ready tailoring photographed beautifully and recognisable as yet another iteration of a formula Williams has maintained consistently since his first season.

None of this happened by accident, and Williams has never suggested otherwise. He inherited the role from Virgil Abloh, whose own tenure at Louis Vuitton was built on curation and cultural connection rather than pure technical innovation, a “curatorial, dot-connecting role” rather than a strictly design-driven one, as one fashion newsletter founder put it at the time of Williams’s appointment. Williams simply extended that inheritance, treating his own discography as narrative material the way another creative director might treat archival research. A gospel choir has appeared at nearly every major show of his tenure. He scores his own runways.

What critics calling the clothes boring tend to overlook is the part of the job that happens nowhere near a runway. Louis Vuitton’s parent company, LVMH, reported revenue of 80 billion euros the year Williams was appointed, and a house operating at that scale answers to a clientele, a set of sales projections, and a wardrobe strategy that exists independently of what fashion writers want to see on stage. Williams has been transparent about exactly this dynamic. “There are a lot of people entering the stores and asking for Pharrell’s products,” LVMH CEO Pietro Beccari confirmed shortly after his debut show. Williams himself has described designing with his own taste as the benchmark, preferring to “go narrow and go deep” rather than dilute ideas to satisfy everyone watching. He has been even more direct about the commercial logic underneath the cultural spectacle. “My culture has been a very significant contributor to the bottom line every quarter,” he said. “That’s not lost on the house. That’s not lost on the family. That’s not lost on me.”

That admission reframes the entire criticism. If Williams’s clothes changed tomorrow to satisfy the people calling him predictable, nothing guarantees Louis Vuitton’s actual customer, the one currently walking into stores asking for his exact products, would follow him there. The spectacle is not compensating for a shortage of design ambition. It may constitute the design strategy in full, keeping the product recognizable and wearable enough to sell at scale while allowing the show to carry whatever risk the garments were never going to take on themselves.

The criticism is not wrong so much as misdirected. Pharrell Williams is not failing to be a daring designer. He has built a version of the role in which daring lives somewhere other than the garment, inside the choir, the architecture, the 2,700 square feet of game board, the boat ride to a bridge that does not usually permit boats through. He is never bad. He is good, better, occasionally his best, and never anything less than that. Whether that range reflects a fashion industry too commodified to permit real risk at this scale, or a genuinely brilliant reading of what a luxury house with an 80 billion euro parent company can actually afford to gamble on, is the harder question underneath this entire conversation. Williams has already answered it for himself, on record, more than once. The clothes carry the business. The choir carries the culture. He built a tenure where neither one has to risk failing the other.

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Credit: Pharrell Williams

Take a look at the long history of the Parisian most famous Summer street party, and where it may head in the future

Every year since 1982, on June 21st, the vibrant streets of France come alive, taken over by musicians and DJs alike, with some performing just outside their apartment windows and creating a gathering where everyone is welcome. This phenomena is called Fête de la Musique, also known as FDLM, and it has created a massive cultural hub across the country as a big f*ck you to institutions and bureaucracy within French creative circles, which for a long time, have made it difficult for emerging talents to persevere in the creative industry However, in light of recent editions it’s worth examining if one can still make that claim.

‍Fête de la Musique was an idea first derived from American musician Joel Cohen in 1976. It was then developed by the Ministry of Culture, which discovered through a 1982 study that 5 million French people, including one in two young people, played a musical instrument. The premise is simple: if you have a musical gift, take it on the street and let the world know what you’re made of.

In recent decades, the event gained extreme popularity among diasporic communities. The gatherings, filled with emerging musicians and rappers, extended to include up and coming Djs trying to make a name for themselves. This, in turn, resulted in many local artists receiving their “big break” in the music industry through the free marketing and exposure Fête de la Musique brings to their communities. One of such artists is Kim, a French-Martinican Zouk and Afropop singer who rose to prominence during the festival in 2004. Guinean-French artist MHD also utilized the traction of the festival to upscale his Afrotrap series, and eventually became France’s national treasure back in 2016. Both of these acts were French locals with a story to tell who came from communities often disregarded by society.  For the first time, artists from the banlieue had the opportunity to be discovered and garner an audience by circumventing the music industry politics that made it difficult to reach the masses. 

The 2026 edition was arguably the biggest Fête de la Musique we have seen yet, with streets packed to the brim with attendees celebrating under the hard-hitting sun. It is safe to say it has never been this popular. However, the festivities did not come without complaints. The first wave of backlash came before the event started. Locals took to socials to complain about Londoners bringing their sense of excitement, which is fairly different from French culture, with them to FDLM. Regardless of that, most hosts were still welcoming.

The second wave of backlash began due to foreign organizers beginning the festive days earlier than planned. These organizers came with their own lineup, often not including local DJs and artists. This was taken by the locals with mixed reactions. Some expressed shock at the organizations, stating that Londoners were taking over Fête de la Musique, while others credited the organizers for their strategy, stating local organizers should take notes and follow suit. Whether one was for or against the change, it was clear the festive would be overcrowded.

This then hints at the final backlash, Fête de la Musique moving away from what it originally represented. With a lot of investors and established artists taking the stage, it leaves little space for emerging local acts to get involved and noticed. What once felt like an opportunity to discover new artists has visibly shrunken. Arguably, this year had more street parties than ever, and as a result, those who were supposed to receive their big break ended up underwhelmed. Many locals felt like it had begun resembling a commercialized festival, and no longer felt like the street parties many grew up adoring.

Noticeable acts who performed but fell massively under the radar during the 2026 Fête de la Musique were, for example, 63OG, a Cameroon-French rapper with incredible musical range. Another was Jeune Morty, an Ivorian-French new-gen vocalist who had one of the most memorable French bangers of this year with Ivoire Feeling”. Another worth mentioning was (D)Juno, a Congolese-French singer who has done remarkable numbers with her breakout hit BB Bringue”. Some might say they were all overshadowed by the presence of established artists, such as Tayc, Tiakola and Theodora, who performed amongst them.

Like past occurrences, this moment should have been their big break, their rise to stardom, but it seemingly did the opposite. Local artists, emerging musicians, and small-time DJs were not the center of this Fête de la Musique. Instead, established artists, commercialized events, and foreign organizers took over. It left little room for new acts to find a new audience. This is a vast shift from its origins and what FDLM initially intended to do, making participants wonder where the festive is heading in the coming years and whether it still holds a place in the heart of their community.

Credit: Marvyn Ngikila (marvyn_07)

Released with support from Amnesty International, the new anthem is part of a wider campaign exploring how music continues to serve as a tool for civic engagement and youth mobilization in West Africa.

West African music veterans Kajeem, Didier Awadi, and Soum Bill have joined forces on ‘En toute liberté', a new human rights anthem released in partnership with Amnesty International. More than a typical music release, the track forms part of a broader campaign aimed at encouraging civic participation and protecting youth civic spaces across Côte d'Ivoire. Through a combination of digital platforms and university outreach, the initiative positions music not only as a cultural product but as a vehicle for activism, dialogue and collective action. 

Backed by the global human rights organization, ‘En toute liberté’--which translates to "In Complete Freedom"--is intended to resonate widely. The artists behind the anthem bring longstanding histories of social engagement to the effort. Kajeem has consistently used reggae as a vehicle for civic awareness and social commentary, while Didier Awadi remains one of West Africa's most influential political hip-hop voices. Alongside them, Soum Bill brings decades of cultural influence in Côte d'Ivoire, helping anchor an initiative that extends beyond the music itself. 

Rather than ending on streaming platforms, the campaign will reach university campuses across the country, where discussions around freedom of expression and democratic participation will form part of its broader outreach. The focus on campuses is significant. Across Africa, universities have long served as incubators for political thought, social movements, and cultural change, making them a natural setting for a project that seeks to connect music with civic engagement. 

Their collaboration also sits within a much longer tradition of politically conscious music in West Africa. For decades, artists have used songs to educate audiences, challenge authority, and encourage public participation. Fela Kuti transformed Afrobeat into a platform for political critique, while Alpha Blondy and Tiken Jah Fakoly used reggae to address governance, democracy and social justice. In this context, ‘En toute liberté’ is less a departure from tradition than a continuation of it. The anthem reflects the enduring belief that music can do more than entertain–it can inform, mobilize and inspire.

The release arrives at a moment when African music enjoys unprecedented global visibility. Yet while international audiences often encounter the continent's music through entertainment-focused narratives, ‘En toute liberté’ highlights another dimension of its cultural power. Across the region and much of Africa, musicians have long occupied roles that extend beyond performance, acting as educators, commentators, and advocates within their communities. For Kajeem, Didier Awadi, and Soum Bill, the anthem serves as a reminder that music remains not only a soundtrack to social life but also a platform for participation, dialogue and change. In doing so, the project reinforces the enduring relationship between culture and civic engagement, demonstrating how artists continue to use their platforms to encourage reflection, discussion, and action. 

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Cover Image Credit: Amnesty International/Digitafreeka

The 18th edition of The Headies is going to Toronto. The announcement was made on June 15, 2026, at the Grand Ballroom of Eko Hotel in Lagos - which is, ironically, in Nigeria. The ceremony itself will not be. Nigerian fans who want to attend Nigeria’s premier music award will need a visa, a flight, and a hotel room in Canada. Everyone else gets a watch party.

The Headies have earned that weight over twenty years. Established in 2006 as the Hip Hop World Awards, the ceremony has hosted some of Nigerian music’s most unforgettable nights. Olamide remains the most decorated artist in its history with 15 wins. Wizkid, Davido, Burna Boy, Rema, Ayra Starr, Tems and Simi have all built portions of their legacy on that stage - the same artists now filling arenas across Europe and North America, the same artists Canada’s Deputy High Commissioner would later cite as evidence of Nigerian music’s global reach. Wande Coal’s sweep at the 5th edition - Album of the Year, Artist of the Year, R&B Album of the Year, and Hip Hop Revelation of the Year in a single night - is still talked about. The 2015 clash between Olamide and Don Jazzy over the Next Rated category split the internet for weeks. In 2025, Qing Madi became the youngest female artist to win Best Songwriter, accepting the award in tears, dedicating it to her mother watching from home. The same edition carried a posthumous tribute to Mohbad, whose loss in 2023 still sits heavy over an industry that never got to see him fully embraced while he was alive. These are not small footnotes. They are the moments that turned an awards show into a cultural institution - one built, performance by performance, winner by winner, entirely on Nigerian soil.

This is the third time in four editions that ceremony has left that soil. The awards moved to Atlanta in 2022 for two consecutive editions before returning to Lagos in 2025 under the theme “Back to Base.” They are not at base anymore.

Founder Ayo Animashaun cited economics as the primary reason. He drew a direct comparison to the Grammy Awards: “Most of the awards in the world that you see that are big, they have four or five sources of revenue. Here we have only one, everybody talks about sponsorship.” The funding problem is real. The proposed solution is not the right fix.

The Grammys stay in Los Angeles for a specific reason. Animashaun acknowledged this himself: “Grammy left Los Angeles and went to Madison Square in New York because LA was shut down. LA fought to bring Grammy back because it does something to their economy and it is part of their DNA.” That comparison undermines his own decision. Los Angeles understood that the Grammys belonged to the city. The city built the financial relationship that made losing the event unthinkable. Nigeria has not had that conversation yet. The Headies are boarding a flight instead.

The economic argument actually strengthens the case against the decision. A platform that cannot sustain itself financially in Nigeria has an infrastructure problem. Geography does not solve an infrastructure problem. Going to Toronto relocates the funding gap temporarily. The structural issue remains untouched. The same conversation will likely happen again next year, or the year after.

Animashaun also pointed to Nigeria’s large diaspora community in Canada as motivation for the move. That ambition is legitimate on its own terms. Taking Nigerian music to the world and taking Nigerian music away from Nigerians are not the same decision. The Headies has been making the second one while describing it as the first. The Nigerian diaspora in Toronto did not build The Headies. Nigerian fans, Nigerian artists, and the Nigerian industry did - across twenty years, fifteen wins for Olamide, a tearful debut win for Qing Madi, a posthumous tribute for Mohbad. Taking the award abroad to reach a diaspora audience, while the home audience receives a livestream, reads less like expansion. It reads like a concession dressed as strategy.

Canada’s Deputy High Commissioner Carlos Rojas-Arbulu welcomed the decision warmly, noting that Wizkid, Davido, Burna Boy, Olamide, Reekado Banks, Shallipopi, Asake and Ayra Starr had all visited Canada in the past eight months. Nigerian artists touring Canada is not evidence that The Headies belong there. Nigerian artists tour London, Paris, and New York with similar frequency. The Grammys are not hosted in any of those cities either.

Animashaun’s real question should not be which international city offers the most convenient venue. It should be why Nigeria has not made The Headies part of its economic and cultural identity the way Los Angeles did with the Grammys. That conversation belongs with the Lagos State Government, with Nigerian banks, with local corporate sponsors, with the Federal Ministry of Arts and Culture. It is a harder conversation than announcing a Toronto venue from a ballroom in Lagos. It is also the only conversation that solves the actual problem.

The decision has already sparked debate among entertainment followers, many questioning why a Nigerian music award platform keeps relocating outside the country. Those questions deserve answers. An award that repeatedly leaves its home country has failed to convince that country it is worth investing in. The case for keeping The Headies in Nigeria has never needed sentiment. It only ever needed money.

Credit:The Headies Award 18th Edition

It’s officially a very fashionable World Cup summer.

The matches may be happening on the pitch, but some of the most interesting competition is taking place off it. From luxury houses dressing national teams to streetwear brands releasing football-inspired capsules and athletes arriving in carefully curated looks, the 2026 FIFA World Cup fashion has all eyes on it, and fashion brands across the globe are getting in on the excitement too. This year's World Cup is becoming a playground for fashion lovers looking for more than a replica jersey.

One of the tournament's standout style moments came courtesy of the Democratic Republic of Congo. Returning to the World Cup for the first time in more than fifty years, the team arrived in custom leopard-inspired suits designed by Alvin Junior Mak, creative director of JmakxParis.

Drawing inspiration from the legacy of the country's iconic 1974 "Leopards" squad and the rich tradition of Congolese sape culture, the black silk crepe suits featured striking leopard detailing that quickly captured global attention online. The look transformed pre-match dressing into a celebration of heritage, craftsmanship, and national pride, while introducing many football fans to one of the most exciting emerging names in African luxury fashion.

Spain is also bringing high fashion to the tournament thanks to a new partnership with Loewe. Earlier this year, the Spanish luxury house was announced as the official formalwear partner of Spain's men's and women's national teams through 2030.

The partnership sees players travelling in custom Loewe tailoring, footwear, and leather goods, with garments crafted in the brand's workshops. Asides the suits themselves, the collaboration feels like a fitting union between one of Spain's most recognizable fashion houses and one of its most celebrated sporting institutions.

France, meanwhile, has enlisted one of fashion's favourite designers. Simon Porte Jacquemus partnered with Nike and the French Football Federation on a lifestyle collection released alongside France's World Cup campaign. Blending sport and everyday dressing, the collection continues Jacquemus' growing relationship with athletic wear while giving supporters a more fashion-forward way to celebrate the tournament.

Nike, as expected, has gone all-in on football culture this summer, rolling out a series of collaborations that move away from the pitch and into the world of fashion and streetwear.

For England, the sportswear giant teamed up with Palace Skateboards on a retro-inspired collection that merges football nostalgia with the London label's signature irreverence. Across the Atlantic, Nike also partnered with the Virgil Abloh Archive on a varsity-inspired capsule collection celebrating the late designer's enduring influence on football culture and contemporary sportswear.

Mexico's World Cup wardrobe has received a designer touch too. Adidas joined forces with Willy Chavarria on a collection of tracksuits, footwear, rugby tops, and shorts that blend football heritage with the designer's distinctive streetwear sensibility. Known for exploring themes of identity and community through fashion, Chavarria's take on football merch feels particularly timely.

Additionally, the NFL entered the football conversation with a limited-edition collection of FIFA World Cup-inspired jerseys developed in partnership with Fanatics. The crossover collection combines American football silhouettes with national football iconography, featuring designs inspired by England, France, and Australia. The result is a playful reminder that football culture now reaches further away from the sport itself.

Streetwear favourite Corteiz has also embraced the tournament spirit. The London-based brand partnered with World Cup Culture on a capsule inspired by eleven participating nations, further highlighting how football has become one of the defining visual influences in contemporary youth culture.

Perhaps that's what makes this year's tournament feel so fun. The World Cup has always been about bringing countries together, but increasingly it is bringing together different corners of fashion too. Luxury houses, sportswear giants, emerging designers, and streetwear labels are all finding new ways to celebrate the game through clothing.

Whether it's DR Congo's viral leopard suits, Spain's Loewe tailoring, or a football-inspired capsule from your favourite streetwear brand, the World Cup has become as much a style spectacle as a sporting one.

For fashion lovers, that's enough reason to tune in.

There is a certain point in every football season when it becomes impossible to avoid. And with the ongoing 2026 FIFA World Cup, that moment feels even bigger. It slips into conversations at work, takes over WhatsApp groups, and somehow finds its way into places where nobody was discussing football five minutes earlier. The guy buying tea in front of you suddenly has strong opinions about a manager's tactics. Your uncle is convinced a title race is already over in October. Someone is showing off a betting slip they are certain will change their life by the end of the evening. For a few months every year, football stops being a sport and starts feeling like a shared language.

Match days have their own rhythm. Hours before kickoff, bars begin to fill up. Jerseys appear. Tables are claimed. Predictions are made with a kind of confidence often reserved for people who actually know what they're talking about. Once the game starts, everybody becomes an expert. The striker should have taken one more touch. The defender should have tracked his runner. The goalkeeper reacted too late. The referee is blind. Nobody agrees on anything, yet everyone is determined to make their case. Watching football has never been a quiet activity; the game seems to invite participation, even from people who have never set foot on a professional pitch.

What stands out is how naturally communal the whole thing feels. The biggest moments seem incomplete without other people around to witness them. A late winner is more satisfying when an entire room explodes beside you. A painful defeat hurts more when you know your friends will remind you about it for weeks. And nowhere is that feeling more visible than during the World Cup, when entire cities seem to pause for kickoff and millions of strangers become invested in the same outcome. Whether it's an Arsenal supporter celebrating a trophy, Knicks fans flooding New York streets after a playoff victory, or families crowded around a television during football's biggest tournament, sports have a unique ability to turn individual spectators into a temporary community. For a few hours, everyone is invested in the same story.

What's most striking is that all this isn't even necessary. It hasn't been for a while. Advances in technology, streaming platforms, and internet connectivity have fundamentally changed the way we consume entertainment. Today, almost everything can be experienced alone. Films are watched on phones during commutes. Music is discovered through personalised playlists. Social media feeds are curated specifically for us, serving content based on our habits, interests, and attention spans. Two people can spend hours online and emerge having consumed entirely different versions of culture.

Sports should have followed the same path. Watching a football match no longer requires a crowded bar or a living room full of relatives. Matches can be streamed from a laptop in bed. Highlights appear seconds after a goal is scored, with reactions flooding social media before the replay has even finished rolling. If convenience were the only thing that mattered, sports would have become just another solitary activity.

Yet every season, the opposite happens. People still gather. They leave their homes and seek out company. They fill pubs, restaurants, fan parks, barber shops, and sports lounges. Group chats that sit dormant for months are suddenly active. Old rivalries are revived. Entire friendships are temporarily placed on hold because one person supports Arsenal and the other supports Manchester United. Football, unlike most modern entertainment, refuses to stay private.

The past few months have offered countless examples. The specifics of the results almost matter less than the conversations they create. Arsenal's long-awaited Premier League triumph sparked celebrations from North London to Nairobi, while their Champions League final defeat to PSG generated an entirely different kind of communal experience: collective heartbreak. Every victory and defeat becomes shared material, something to be dissected, argued over, and remembered together.

The same phenomenon can be seen beyond football. When the New York Knicks made their deep playoff run, the atmosphere extended far beyond Madison Square Garden. The team became a citywide talking point. Sports bars overflowed. Celebrities packed courtside seats. Social media feeds filled with reactions from people who rarely discussed basketball. The games became part of New York's daily rhythm, creating a common point of reference in a city otherwise defined by its endless diversity of interests and experiences.

But no sporting event demonstrates this better than the World Cup. Every four years, football's biggest tournament performs a feat that has become increasingly rare in modern culture: it captures collective attention. Casual fans suddenly become invested. Entire nations organise their schedules around kickoff times. Family WhatsApp groups transform into live commentary feeds. Workplaces become temporary debating societies. Streets empty before kickoff and fill again at the final whistle. For a few days, millions of people are not simply consuming the same content; they are reacting to it simultaneously.

This kind of shared attention is becoming harder to find. The media landscape that once produced common cultural experiences has fractured. There was a time when entire countries watched the same television shows, listened to the same radio stations, and followed the same celebrities. Today, algorithms encourage the opposite. They reward niche interests, personalised recommendations, and individual consumption. Culture has become increasingly fragmented.

Sports remain one of the few exceptions. Part of the reason may be that sports are not simply entertainment. They are rituals. Every fan has their own version of them. The lucky jersey worn /purse that must be carried on match day. The seat that cannot be changed once a winning streak begins. The pre-match predictions. The halftime complaints. The post-match analysis that somehow lasts longer than the game itself. These rituals give sporting events a social dimension that extends far beyond the final score.

There is also the question of community. Many of the institutions that once brought people together have weakened. People move more frequently. Neighbourhood ties are often looser than they once were. Much of modern life is conducted through screens. Even friendships increasingly exist through notifications and group chats rather than physical spaces. Sports offer something different. They provide a reason to leave the house, gather with others, and participate in a shared experience. In an era where loneliness is regularly described as a public health concern, that matters.

Ironically, technology may have strengthened this impulse rather than weakened it. Social media has transformed sporting events into real-time global conversations. News that Somali referee Omar Artan had been barred from officiating at the World Cup sparked debate far beyond the stadium, with fans everywhere weighing in on what the decision meant for the sport. 

More importantly, sports create witnesses. A tournament upset becomes more memorable when everyone around you experiences the same shock at the same moment like that Tuesday game between France and Senegal. Joy, disappointment, relief and disbelief gain meaning when they are shared. Years later, people rarely remember where they watched a famous match alone. They remember who they were with.

Sports transform private emotions into collective experiences; a big reason why they continue to occupy such a unique place in modern culture. In a world increasingly organised around individual preferences and personalised feeds, sports offer something increasingly rare: a reason to look in the same direction at the same time. Eventually, the final whistle blows. The crowd disperses. The group chat quiets down. Everyone returns to their own carefully curated corner of the internet. But for ninety minutes, something unusual happened. Strangers shared the same emotions. Cities rallied around the same story. Millions of people, regardless of where they were watching from, lived in the same world.

Perhaps this is why sports continue to thrive in the age of personalisation. They offer what algorithms cannot truly replicate nor replace: community.

IG:@_stanleykilonzo

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