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The moment African models step onto the runway, they carry with them stories of heritage, identity and an industry that is steadily redefining the continent’s place globally. The South African Fashion Week 2026 arrives at a moment when African fashion is beginning to gain unprecedented international attention. However, beyond the spectacle of lights, cameras and fabrics, the event reflects a deeper transformation within the continent’s most creative industries. Fashion is becoming both a cultural statement and an economic force.
Held in Johannesburg, South African Fashion Week has evolved from being a local runway showcase into one of the continent’s most influential fashion platforms. The stage is now used by designers not only to debut new collections but also to express narratives rooted in African history, identity and modern urban culture. From interpretations of traditional silhouettes to contemporary streetwear inspired by township aesthetics, the runway has become a canvas for storytelling.
Clothing is a language for many designers. Textiles, colours, and tailoring techniques often reference heritage, sometimes subtly, sometimes boldly. This way, what emerges is the fusion of the past and the present with garments that not only celebrate craftsmanship but speaks to a global audience who are increasingly interested in authenticity and cultural perspectives.
However, the significance of South African Fashion Week goes beyond symbolism. The event serves as a platform for a critical meeting point of buyers, media, retailers and investors. New brands like 560 Rebirth by Lumka Takane, Funch by Kwanele Thusi, The Vision Line by Lucky Masemola, Bravo&Co by Gift Nematei and established brands like Maxhosa Africa, Iamisigo, Meji Meji, Deirée by Iyama, Sibu FDB amongst others were showcased at the South African Fashion Week 2026. However, designers now find opportunities to connect with global fashion networks through the visibility the event provides. This shift reflects a broader reality; Africa’s fashion industry is growing into a viable economic sector.
Across the continent, fashion weeks are evolving to become marketplaces where creativity intersects with commerce. Emerging designers gain exposure, a manufacturing partnership takes shape, and the conversation around fashion moves quietly from aesthetics to industry. South Africa Fashion Week is a prime example of that transition. In recent years, the event has embraced hybrid formats that blend the physical runway presentations with digital showcases. The shift allows collections to reach audiences beyond the traditional front row, therefore giving designers access to global viewers, buyers and press.
The ripple effects extend beyond South Africa. Across the continent, fashion events such as Lagos Fashion Week are redefining what African Fashion Week represents. Together, they form a growing network of creative platforms positioning Africa not only as the peripheral voice in fashion but as an emerging center of influence. For young designers in particular, visibility matters. Fashion week provides validation, access and the possibility of scaling creative ideas into sustainable businesses.
In an industry where access to markets and funding has historically been limited, the runway becomes more than just a stage; it has become a gateway. At the same time, the aesthetics on display reveal how African designers are reshaping the narrative of global fashion. Instead of replication Westerb trends, many collections deliberately lean into African references through handcrafted fabrics, indigenous motifs, and contemporary interpretations of traditional dress.
The result is a fashion language that feels both rooted and forward looking which is perhaps the real significance of South African Fashion Week today. It represents a moment where creativity, culture and commerce converge to tell a broader story about Africa’s evolving place in the world’s cultural economy.
As African fashion continues to gain recognition beyond the continent, the question is no longer about whether the industry will attract global attention. The question now is how far the influence of Africa’s runways will travel and who will define the next chapter.
Destin Conrad’s ‘wHIMSY!’ is a Fever Dream You Won’t Want to Wake From
There’s a specific moment when you press play on a project and realize you’re not just listening to a playlist you’re stepping into someone’s world. With the deluxe drop of wHIMSY!, Destin Conrad has officially moved past the "R&B singer" label. In many ways, wHIMSY is a transportive, hazy odyssey into what he’s calling "alternative jazz"and it is the most honest he’s ever sounded.
The project sits as a bridge between eras. You’ve got these crisp hi-hats that keep you grounded in the present, but the melodies themselves feel like they’ve been pulled from a 1970s smoke-filled lounge. It’s got that new-age spoken word grit where the lyrics aren't just sung; they’re felt. What’s wild is how Conrad takes the most mundane, everyday topics and makes them feel intoxicatingly sexy. He has this way of romanticizing the "normal" until it feels like a movie scene.
Opening an album is an art, and on the perfectly titled "(MORE)LOVE" starring Jean Deaux you know you’re about to go on a trip the second it hits. The track is a slow-burn immersion that sets the stage for everything to follow. Jean Deaux’s presence adds a layer of texture that mimics a conversation you’re eavesdropping on. “Diamond Gold” showcases a melodic style and luxurious sound that makes listeners feel sexy. The jazz influence here is velvety and effortless, providing a backdrop for the way he carries himself with such refinement. It doesn’t feel arrogant. "NOTHING IS REAL" (w/ Terrace Martin) is where the "alternative jazz" label really earns its keep. It’s soulful, melodic, and deeply rhythmic. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to close your eyes and let the sound take the wheel. It feels like a core memory you haven't had yet. A lot of albums fizzle out at the end, but "LALALALA" brings it all home. It mirrors the upbeat energy of the start, giving the whole experience a beautiful, full-circle closure. It leaves you with a high-energy buzz, like the sun coming up after a long night out.
wHIMSY is an album that doesn't just play; it breathes. It’s a melodic time machine that manages to feel nostalgic for the past while being obsessed with the future. Conrad isn't just making music anymore he’s building an environment. If you’re looking for a project that feels like a cinematic voyage through sound, this is it. The album is proof that when you stop trying to fit into a genre and start trying to capture a feeling, you end up with something timeless.
When TheARTI$T (born Erica McCauley) released her viral single “Sober” in January 2023, it marked the moment when audiences first recognised her musical abilities. The reflective track, which became the anthem for leaving toxic situations, was one of many from the New Jersey- born fast-rising R&B singer, songwriter, and performer that would go on to propel her into the music scene as a newcomer to watch out for thanks to her vulnerable lyrics, smooth vocals, and warm tones. “It felt scary at first, but over time, it began to feel right,” TheARTI$T explained, speaking on the early days of sharing music. “I believe I was always meant to be doing something that involved pouring into people, and that music happened to be the thing God blessed me with to do that.” It’s this strong belief in herself and her talents that took her from being a preschool teacher in Newark to receiving cosigns from legends like Queen Latifah, Snoop Dogg, Maxwell, and more.
Building on the impact of “Sober” and the projects like ARTchives, Together Again, and Who I Am that followed, her latest, DND, joins the ranks. The 12-track EP showcases her consistency and determination to be more than just a viral sensation. Her ability to craft cohesive projects with a distinct sound brings fresh energy to the R&B space right now. During a recent meeting with her in London, we discussed everything from her creative process for the EP to her musical inspirations and journey thus far.
Hi, first of all, nice to meet you. For any of our readers who do not know who you are, how would you describe yourself to people who are just meeting you?
I would describe myself as someone who loves unapologetically. Someone who values fashion and always looks to put a smile on someone's face.
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How would you describe yourself in terms of your sound?
My sound is very vulnerable and raw, with a way of cutting through. I'd say it's soulful too, which makes sense because I grew up on a lot of soul-inspired music.
How did your love for music begin, and what would you say was the thing that brought you to want to pursue being an artist?
My love for music began as a little girl. My mom never missed a moment to blast music throughout the house; a whole lot of Anthony Hamilton and Jazmine Sullivan at that. I used to dance too, so my ability to connect with music has always been homegrown. I began pursuing it in college after my friends heard me freestyling in my dorm. They literally forced me to the studio, and I haven't left since!
You have released several bodies of work so far. What would you say has changed from when you started making music to where you are now?
What changed was my knowledge and my understanding of what it took to really do my best work. My eagerness to work with others, my willingness to stay a student and just my life experiences overall. I've grown so much, and at times I don't even realise it because I'm just doing what I love. But there are moments when I can pause, look around, and see just how far I've come.
In terms of your new EP, DND, where did the process for that EP begin for you?
The process began a year ago. I was working on the song "Questions" in April, and at the time, the feeling of that song was where I was, but I wasn't quite sure how to build out the story from there. Fast forward about 6 months after that, and that's when everything began to fall into place on its own. I stayed in the studio, and I worked and worked, and the project literally built itself.
.png)
How has it felt making the music on this EP compared to your last body of work?
Honestly, it has felt like a stepping stone towards the woman that I am working to become. I feel like in life, it's hardly ever a chance where you can skip steps, and this is that moment for me. DND is where my healing lies, it's where my truth lies, and it feels extremely strong. I am excited to see the doors that open once the world hears it.
What would you say has been a standout moment for making the EP?
A standout moment for making the EP was the making of "Shut It Down.” That moment right there was something I'd never forget. The feeling during the session, the way everyone was so tuned in, and the way it felt to hear it out loud on the speakers after recording it were definitely the final pieces of the puzzle that allowed us to complete this.
Lyrically and sonically, how did you shape the direction of the EP?
I shaped it in a way that tells a tale between me and me only. Because I struggled internally, it showed in my inability to focus on loving just one woman; I always felt the need to want more. So it goes through this cycle of having a main woman, but not having enough of those on the side either. I tried to get the production in line with that feeling so that, as listeners engage, it feels like they are standing directly in my shoes.
In terms of the songs and the themes you address on the EP, what was the writing process for you in this EP?
The writing process, honestly, was easy this go-round. I believe it was because the story I had going into every session was perfectly put into a song. So any time I worked with any other songwriters, they knew exactly what I was trying to get across just by telling my truths.
.png)
You are somebody who has always had a distinct look to them in terms of your style and how that comes across in your artistry. How has fashion been something you have been able to explore in how you express yourself as an artist?
Fashion has been my safe space in the world. When I'm able to dress how I want, it gives me a level of confidence that I take with me into every session, interview and onto every stage.
What do you want people to know about you from listening to the EP?
I want them to know that no one is alone in this fight to love and be loved. As if it should even be a fight. We live in a culture now where the epitome of love is what someone can do for you, but what about how someone can make you feel? How does someone show up for you? And although I struggled to do that with only one woman, it never took away my ability to have a heart and to love.
.png)
What was the hardest song to write on the EP?
I wouldn't deem anything as hard, but the toughest song to record might've been the record "Binge,” because I utilised my vocal tone and range more in this one, and sometimes that's a challenge for me!
What was the moment you knew the EP was finished?
I know the EP was finished after the recording of my single "Shut It Down.” It just felt like the icing on the cake for me!
As you’ve been on your journey so far, what have you learned about yourself?
I learned that it's so easy to get caught up in what this industry brings that sometimes I forget I'm just a human. So I've been giving myself more grace, being more patient and truly allowing myself to enjoy the journey. Everything that has happened thus far, I can't get back. And I don't want to blink and look back and realise that I never gave myself a moment to just enjoy the fruits of my labour.
Team Credits:
Creative Director & Photographer: Dhey Artopé @dheyartope
Creative Producer: Whitney Sanni @its.whit_
Stylisting Assistants: Imara @imarasarchive Kandyce Hogan @kandyce_hogan
Set Designer: Riya @rjdznz
Assistant Set Designer: Alero Helena @aleroart_
Props: Aaishah @aaishah.xox
Hair Stylist: Jemima Boateng @dsrhair
Movement Director: Kelvin @kvngfeds
Co - Producer: Dhey Artopé @dheyartope
Creative Assistants: Gift @.gifteyy Sharelle Grace @sharellegrace Imara @imarasarchive
Gaffer: Ariz @_aryzza
BTS: Rimaz Yousif @shotbyrimaz. Jay @jayproducer_Nathaniel @nathanielfilmsuk
Models: Aysha Urqhart @ayshaurqhart Riley @ril3yplayz
Interview: Seneo Mwamba @seneomwamba
Design: @shalemalone | @dianeadanna
The moment African models step onto the runway, they carry with them stories of heritage, identity and an industry that is steadily redefining the continent’s place globally. The South African Fashion Week 2026 arrives at a moment when African fashion is beginning to gain unprecedented international attention. However, beyond the spectacle of lights, cameras and fabrics, the event reflects a deeper transformation within the continent’s most creative industries. Fashion is becoming both a cultural statement and an economic force.
Held in Johannesburg, South African Fashion Week has evolved from being a local runway showcase into one of the continent’s most influential fashion platforms. The stage is now used by designers not only to debut new collections but also to express narratives rooted in African history, identity and modern urban culture. From interpretations of traditional silhouettes to contemporary streetwear inspired by township aesthetics, the runway has become a canvas for storytelling.
Clothing is a language for many designers. Textiles, colours, and tailoring techniques often reference heritage, sometimes subtly, sometimes boldly. This way, what emerges is the fusion of the past and the present with garments that not only celebrate craftsmanship but speaks to a global audience who are increasingly interested in authenticity and cultural perspectives.
However, the significance of South African Fashion Week goes beyond symbolism. The event serves as a platform for a critical meeting point of buyers, media, retailers and investors. New brands like 560 Rebirth by Lumka Takane, Funch by Kwanele Thusi, The Vision Line by Lucky Masemola, Bravo&Co by Gift Nematei and established brands like Maxhosa Africa, Iamisigo, Meji Meji, Deirée by Iyama, Sibu FDB amongst others were showcased at the South African Fashion Week 2026. However, designers now find opportunities to connect with global fashion networks through the visibility the event provides. This shift reflects a broader reality; Africa’s fashion industry is growing into a viable economic sector.
Across the continent, fashion weeks are evolving to become marketplaces where creativity intersects with commerce. Emerging designers gain exposure, a manufacturing partnership takes shape, and the conversation around fashion moves quietly from aesthetics to industry. South Africa Fashion Week is a prime example of that transition. In recent years, the event has embraced hybrid formats that blend the physical runway presentations with digital showcases. The shift allows collections to reach audiences beyond the traditional front row, therefore giving designers access to global viewers, buyers and press.
The ripple effects extend beyond South Africa. Across the continent, fashion events such as Lagos Fashion Week are redefining what African Fashion Week represents. Together, they form a growing network of creative platforms positioning Africa not only as the peripheral voice in fashion but as an emerging center of influence. For young designers in particular, visibility matters. Fashion week provides validation, access and the possibility of scaling creative ideas into sustainable businesses.
In an industry where access to markets and funding has historically been limited, the runway becomes more than just a stage; it has become a gateway. At the same time, the aesthetics on display reveal how African designers are reshaping the narrative of global fashion. Instead of replication Westerb trends, many collections deliberately lean into African references through handcrafted fabrics, indigenous motifs, and contemporary interpretations of traditional dress.
The result is a fashion language that feels both rooted and forward looking which is perhaps the real significance of South African Fashion Week today. It represents a moment where creativity, culture and commerce converge to tell a broader story about Africa’s evolving place in the world’s cultural economy.
As African fashion continues to gain recognition beyond the continent, the question is no longer about whether the industry will attract global attention. The question now is how far the influence of Africa’s runways will travel and who will define the next chapter.
Destin Conrad’s ‘wHIMSY!’ is a Fever Dream You Won’t Want to Wake From
There’s a specific moment when you press play on a project and realize you’re not just listening to a playlist you’re stepping into someone’s world. With the deluxe drop of wHIMSY!, Destin Conrad has officially moved past the "R&B singer" label. In many ways, wHIMSY is a transportive, hazy odyssey into what he’s calling "alternative jazz"and it is the most honest he’s ever sounded.
The project sits as a bridge between eras. You’ve got these crisp hi-hats that keep you grounded in the present, but the melodies themselves feel like they’ve been pulled from a 1970s smoke-filled lounge. It’s got that new-age spoken word grit where the lyrics aren't just sung; they’re felt. What’s wild is how Conrad takes the most mundane, everyday topics and makes them feel intoxicatingly sexy. He has this way of romanticizing the "normal" until it feels like a movie scene.
Opening an album is an art, and on the perfectly titled "(MORE)LOVE" starring Jean Deaux you know you’re about to go on a trip the second it hits. The track is a slow-burn immersion that sets the stage for everything to follow. Jean Deaux’s presence adds a layer of texture that mimics a conversation you’re eavesdropping on. “Diamond Gold” showcases a melodic style and luxurious sound that makes listeners feel sexy. The jazz influence here is velvety and effortless, providing a backdrop for the way he carries himself with such refinement. It doesn’t feel arrogant. "NOTHING IS REAL" (w/ Terrace Martin) is where the "alternative jazz" label really earns its keep. It’s soulful, melodic, and deeply rhythmic. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to close your eyes and let the sound take the wheel. It feels like a core memory you haven't had yet. A lot of albums fizzle out at the end, but "LALALALA" brings it all home. It mirrors the upbeat energy of the start, giving the whole experience a beautiful, full-circle closure. It leaves you with a high-energy buzz, like the sun coming up after a long night out.
wHIMSY is an album that doesn't just play; it breathes. It’s a melodic time machine that manages to feel nostalgic for the past while being obsessed with the future. Conrad isn't just making music anymore he’s building an environment. If you’re looking for a project that feels like a cinematic voyage through sound, this is it. The album is proof that when you stop trying to fit into a genre and start trying to capture a feeling, you end up with something timeless.
When TheARTI$T (born Erica McCauley) released her viral single “Sober” in January 2023, it marked the moment when audiences first recognised her musical abilities. The reflective track, which became the anthem for leaving toxic situations, was one of many from the New Jersey- born fast-rising R&B singer, songwriter, and performer that would go on to propel her into the music scene as a newcomer to watch out for thanks to her vulnerable lyrics, smooth vocals, and warm tones. “It felt scary at first, but over time, it began to feel right,” TheARTI$T explained, speaking on the early days of sharing music. “I believe I was always meant to be doing something that involved pouring into people, and that music happened to be the thing God blessed me with to do that.” It’s this strong belief in herself and her talents that took her from being a preschool teacher in Newark to receiving cosigns from legends like Queen Latifah, Snoop Dogg, Maxwell, and more.
Building on the impact of “Sober” and the projects like ARTchives, Together Again, and Who I Am that followed, her latest, DND, joins the ranks. The 12-track EP showcases her consistency and determination to be more than just a viral sensation. Her ability to craft cohesive projects with a distinct sound brings fresh energy to the R&B space right now. During a recent meeting with her in London, we discussed everything from her creative process for the EP to her musical inspirations and journey thus far.
Hi, first of all, nice to meet you. For any of our readers who do not know who you are, how would you describe yourself to people who are just meeting you?
I would describe myself as someone who loves unapologetically. Someone who values fashion and always looks to put a smile on someone's face.
How would you describe yourself in terms of your sound?
My sound is very vulnerable and raw, with a way of cutting through. I'd say it's soulful too, which makes sense because I grew up on a lot of soul-inspired music.
How did your love for music begin, and what would you say was the thing that brought you to want to pursue being an artist?
My love for music began as a little girl. My mom never missed a moment to blast music throughout the house; a whole lot of Anthony Hamilton and Jazmine Sullivan at that. I used to dance too, so my ability to connect with music has always been homegrown. I began pursuing it in college after my friends heard me freestyling in my dorm. They literally forced me to the studio, and I haven't left since!
You have released several bodies of work so far. What would you say has changed from when you started making music to where you are now?
What changed was my knowledge and my understanding of what it took to really do my best work. My eagerness to work with others, my willingness to stay a student and just my life experiences overall. I've grown so much, and at times I don't even realise it because I'm just doing what I love. But there are moments when I can pause, look around, and see just how far I've come.
In terms of your new EP, DND, where did the process for that EP begin for you?
The process began a year ago. I was working on the song "Questions" in April, and at the time, the feeling of that song was where I was, but I wasn't quite sure how to build out the story from there. Fast forward about 6 months after that, and that's when everything began to fall into place on its own. I stayed in the studio, and I worked and worked, and the project literally built itself.
How has it felt making the music on this EP compared to your last body of work?
Honestly, it has felt like a stepping stone towards the woman that I am working to become. I feel like in life, it's hardly ever a chance where you can skip steps, and this is that moment for me. DND is where my healing lies, it's where my truth lies, and it feels extremely strong. I am excited to see the doors that open once the world hears it.
What would you say has been a standout moment for making the EP?
A standout moment for making the EP was the making of "Shut It Down.” That moment right there was something I'd never forget. The feeling during the session, the way everyone was so tuned in, and the way it felt to hear it out loud on the speakers after recording it were definitely the final pieces of the puzzle that allowed us to complete this.
Lyrically and sonically, how did you shape the direction of the EP?
I shaped it in a way that tells a tale between me and me only. Because I struggled internally, it showed in my inability to focus on loving just one woman; I always felt the need to want more. So it goes through this cycle of having a main woman, but not having enough of those on the side either. I tried to get the production in line with that feeling so that, as listeners engage, it feels like they are standing directly in my shoes.
In terms of the songs and the themes you address on the EP, what was the writing process for you in this EP?
The writing process, honestly, was easy this go-round. I believe it was because the story I had going into every session was perfectly put into a song. So any time I worked with any other songwriters, they knew exactly what I was trying to get across just by telling my truths.
You are somebody who has always had a distinct look to them in terms of your style and how that comes across in your artistry. How has fashion been something you have been able to explore in how you express yourself as an artist?
Fashion has been my safe space in the world. When I'm able to dress how I want, it gives me a level of confidence that I take with me into every session, interview and onto every stage.
What do you want people to know about you from listening to the EP?
I want them to know that no one is alone in this fight to love and be loved. As if it should even be a fight. We live in a culture now where the epitome of love is what someone can do for you, but what about how someone can make you feel? How does someone show up for you? And although I struggled to do that with only one woman, it never took away my ability to have a heart and to love.
What was the hardest song to write on the EP?
I wouldn't deem anything as hard, but the toughest song to record might've been the record "Binge,” because I utilised my vocal tone and range more in this one, and sometimes that's a challenge for me!
What was the moment you knew the EP was finished?
I know the EP was finished after the recording of my single "Shut It Down.” It just felt like the icing on the cake for me!
As you’ve been on your journey so far, what have you learned about yourself?
I learned that it's so easy to get caught up in what this industry brings that sometimes I forget I'm just a human. So I've been giving myself more grace, being more patient and truly allowing myself to enjoy the journey. Everything that has happened thus far, I can't get back. And I don't want to blink and look back and realise that I never gave myself a moment to just enjoy the fruits of my labour.
Team Credits:
Creative Director & Photographer: Dhey Artopé @dheyartope
Creative Producer: Whitney Sanni @its.whit_
Stylisting Assistants: Imara @imarasarchive Kandyce Hogan @kandyce_hogan
Set Designer: Riya @rjdznz
Assistant Set Designer: Alero Helena @aleroart_
Props: Aaishah @aaishah.xox
Hair Stylist: Jemima Boateng @dsrhair
Movement Director: Kelvin @kvngfeds
Co - Producer: Dhey Artopé @dheyartope
Creative Assistants: Gift @.gifteyy Sharelle Grace @sharellegrace Imara @imarasarchive
Gaffer: Ariz @_aryzza
BTS: Rimaz Yousif @shotbyrimaz. Jay @jayproducer_Nathaniel @nathanielfilmsuk
Models: Aysha Urqhart @ayshaurqhart Riley @ril3yplayz
Interview: Seneo Mwamba @seneomwamba
Design: @shalemalone | @dianeadanna
On the night of April 20, a six-metre mountain of ice appeared in a Toronto parking lot at 81 Bond Street, cordoned by metal barriers and stamped with four words: "Release date inside." By midnight, it had just about 800 people around it. Police from three divisions. Firefighters. A sign that read "Danger Do Not Touch." Hordes of curious fans. An inspired car giveaway. And a Twitch streamer with a blowtorch to save us all the trouble.
This was the latest development in Drake's album rollout for "Iceman", his ninth studio album, now confirmed for May 15. For whatever kind of marketing or branding strategy you thought it was, you simply can not look away from the spectacle that it is. Before the big reveal, the stunt had been building for days. Drake's courtside seats at the Toronto Raptors' game against the Brooklyn Nets at Scotiabank Arena were frozen into sculpted ice on April 12, and the footage did not take long to go viral.
Only days later, a confirmed explosion shook Downsview Park in north Toronto, which the city confirmed as a production tied to the superstar. Then came the announcement of the coordinates from his record label. Then the blocks of ice and chaos. Curiosity had fans climbing the structure, lighting campfires on top of it, and attacking it with anything they could find, including pickaxes and, weirdly unsurprisingly, a blowtorch.
Twitch streamer Kishka eventually extracted a blue bag marked "Freeze the world," while live-streaming the discovery. The rest of the reveal was done at Drake's "The Embassy" mansion, where Kishka, directed by Adin Ross, walked away with a sealed bag of cash as a reward for quite literally breaking the ice. Other items found in the structure included a white t-shirt that read "2026 will be my year" and a blurry selfie of the Canadian rapper.
Drake himself posted his reaction with characteristic grandiosity: "THIS ALBUM BOUT TO PLAY INFINTESEMELY KNOW DAT," and the internet, from experience, will completely oblige him.
From this writer's perspective, it is rather difficult to watch this rollout and not notice what it is also doing beyond the optics. For context, "Iceman" is Drake's first solo album since his 2024 feud with Kendrick Lamar; a period in which he was publicly and comprehensively outmanoeuvred. Kdot's "Not Like Us" became an anthem of his humiliation, and his authority as the dominant figure in hip-hop was genuinely contested for the first time in a decade.
The ice metaphor throughout this rollout campaign is not neutral. Coldness. Imperviousness. Control. A man preserved beneath the surface, untouched, and in wait. The rollout is not just clever marketing. It is a carefully constructed counter-narrative that, on Drake's end, buries the conversation about the feud entirely with a louder visual response of unflurried composure.
Ultimately, whether "Iceman" justifies the mythology it has already built is a question for May 15, and given the artist that Drake is, that justification is already in order.
Recently, social media, particularly X, was abuzz with reports of the leak of Legend of Aang: The Last Airbender in light of Paramount Pictures's decision to forgo a theatrical release in favor of a debut of Paramount+, its streaming platform. While the move was widely viewed as a strategy to drive streaming viewership, the leak quickly shifted industry attention.
Animators behind the project have publicly discouraged consumption of the movie, framing it as a direct affront to their work. Yet, beyond the immediate controversy, the incident reflects a broader pattern: leaks are increasingly tied to audience dissatisfaction and evolving distribution strategies, an intersection the industry continues to underestimate.
The intersection of institutional missteps and digital vulnerability is increasingly difficult to ignore. Studios are making distribution decisions that often sideline audience expectations, even where legacy is involved. First released in 2005, Avatar: The Last Airbender remains a culturally and commercially significant property, with a multigenerational fanbase and proven expansion value through The Legend of Korra.
Anticipation around The Legend of Aang: The Last Airbender was therefore not incidental but tied to nostalgia, franchise continuity, and monetisation potential. Against this, Paramount Pictures’ decision to bypass a theatrical release heightened exposure risks. Other cases, from Game of Thrones to X-Men Origins: Wolverine, are reflective that leaks often emerge at the intersection of distribution uncertainty and internal content handling. Based on this, a pattern emerges - these incidents are less about fan opportunism and more about structural vulnerabilities shaped by corporate strategy.
The scale of the problem is well documented. Movie leaks cost the industry an estimated $29 billion in lost revenue annually, disrupting marketing strategies and effacing relationships between studios and their production partners. This is where the structural problem becomes clear. Content no longer lives only within studio walls. It moves across a web of localization vendors, post-production houses, animation partners, and cloud platforms, potential entry points. Employees with privileged access may copy or leak content before release, and early leaks can cost millions in lost marketing value.
The human cost is just as important as the financial one. The movie's director, Lauren Montgomery, confirmed the film had wrapped up after a four-year production journey, expressing pride in the work while noting its now waiting for release. Those four years of creative labor belong to a group that has already absorbed a blow from Paramount's theatrical reversal. The leak delivered another.
Hollywood has known about its security vulnerabilities since at least the 2014 Sony hack, when hackers stole and released mountains of private data, exposing executive emails and business affairs that upended careers and relationships across the industry. Years later, studios still outsource to vendors with insufficient controls. Content pipelines still move sensitive files through email. And audiences still find themselves holding a leaked film months before its release date.
The “Aang breach” is not an anomaly but a symptom of lax vendor oversight, audience alienation, and an industry that keeps treating security as a cost centre rather than a creative imperative. Until that changes, the vault will keep breaking open.
(Cover Photo: via X)
IG: @muyiwavstheopp)
Kenyan R&B singer-songwriter Bridget Blue has quietly built a name for herself through emotionally rich songwriting and a soft, controlled vocal style–first gaining attention through covers before releasing projects like ‘Colours’ (2022) and ‘24’ (2024). With her latest album RNB, she delivers her most cohesive and fully realized work yet.
At just 12 tracks long,RNB feels less like a playlist and more like a slow-burning conversation, one that unfolds with intention and emotional precision. It’s a project that trusts its own pace and in doing so, invites you to sit with it. Across the album, Blue leans fully into a sound that feels intentional, unhurried and deeply rooted in emotion, reaffirming her place in the ever-evolving Kenyan R&B landscape.
Blue describes the album as,”[me being] bare and vulnerable and just pouring my whole soul. It’s what I truly wanted to say for so long.” From the opening notes of ‘Ngozi Kama Jua,’ there’s an immediate sense that this is not just a collection of songs, but a carefully constructed body of work. Tracks like ‘Ni Wewe’ and ‘Mbuzi’ glide into ‘Sober’ with a natural ease, each record feeling like a response to the last.
By the midpoint of ‘9 to 5’ [Blue’s rebuff of the pressures to be more digestible, singing, "I'm too pretty for a nine-to-five / Too loud for a quiet life / Biting my tongue just to stay polite…”] and ‘Waters of My Enemies’—the emotional stakes deepen, before easing into the reflective warmth of ‘Always Mine’ to reveal a record created with a cohesive narrative about love, vulnerability, self-awareness and emotional release. Even towards the closing stretch, ‘Set Me Free,’ ‘Kuna Yule,’ and ‘Umbrella’, there’s a sense of arrival, like the emotional arc has come full circle as evidenced in her live listening sessions to promote the album at KODA Nairobi.
Lyrically, she remains just as compelling. Whether it’s the tenderness of ‘I Choose You’ featuring Bien–a masterclass in vocal chemistry with over 4M+ streams currently–released late 2024 in the lead up to the album. Bien’s textured, expressive delivery folds seamlessly into her softness, creating a duet that feels rich and layered. Similarly, ‘Mimi Na Wewe’ with Nikita Kering is nothing short of a “soundgasm.” For fans who have long imagined what a meeting between two of Kenya’s most compelling R&B voices would sound like, this track delivers–and then some. Nikita doesn’t overpower or get overshadowed; instead, she meets Blue exactly where she is, and together they create something immersive, lush and deeply satisfying.
And perhaps what’s striking is that Blue doesn’t rely on these features; they simply expand her world. They add dimension without taking away from her center, which remains strong throughout the album. In the broader conversation about Kenyan R&B, RNB feels like a defining statement. The genre has been steadily growing, carving out space both locally and globally; and Bridget Blue’s name belongs firmly within that conversation [with her] stating, “I feel like more true R&B singers are coming up, and I feel like they are not shy about it anymore.”
That ability to captivate in the most ordinary settings has evidently been part of her magic since her come-up. And the growth is undeniable. Ultimately now with ‘RNB’ Bridget Blue is rest assuredly stepping into her sound, with a clearer identity and confident execution–or at the very least, fully realized in this current phase of her artistry.
With the city stretched out beneath them, skaters, DJs, and fashionistas alike gathered on The Mall Rooftop in Westlands, Nairobi, on April 12th, 2026. Staking claim over everything the light touched, event organisers Jelimo Cheboi and Antoinette Apondi of GirlSkate Nairobi assessed the expanse of East Africa’s creative scene from their throne in the empire. The rapid rise of skating on the continent has reached new heights amongst the youth, through tailored communities inviting people of all interests, ages, and abilities to take part and find a home. What Cheboi and Apondi found, though, was a disconnect between the inclusivity advertised and its reality, particularly in the creative space.
What began as an innocent interest for inclusion and growth has turned into an Eden-esque escape for any creative, honouring the multi-hyphenate, non-confirmative youth in Kenya’s capital. From creating space for women and non-binary people to call home in a male-dominated area to today’s inclusion of music, fashion, and art in their mission, GirlSakte Nairobi’s reach is shedding light on the true vehicle of change, redefining culture for youth in the Eastern region of Africa.
Founded in 2023, GirlSkate has spent the last three years disrupting the marginalisation of women in skateboarding and creative spaces, starting in its home country and spreading abroad. Posting a collection of skating lessons, informative videos, and community events, the organisation was founded on inclusion and has extended its ethos to the East’s blossoming creative economy and more established cities, like London.
Cheboi, who started skating in 2022, recalled getting her first board, saying, “I had never seen a skateboard before or anyone who skateboarded apart from online or the movies or TV shows.” Today, the story has changed, with women openly skating through the streets and exploring self-expression through the community and opportunities it’s created. Her co-founder, Apondi, has been breaking down boundaries in the skating world and felt like the perfect example of what could be achieved, as she grew up skating - often as the only woman - and has been vital in representation and teaching newcomers. “What we’re doing,” Cheboi says, “is creating a more inclusive culture, where everybody is invited, and anyone can be a part of it.”
Since starting, The Mall has been sort of a ‘home base’ for the organisation. Home to their weekly sessions, lessons, and their Skate & Sound collaboration with Santuri Music Group also based there. The collaboration, intended to inspire a sense of community, brought members of GirlSkate together, creating bonds after expressing one facet of their identities.
“Skateboarding is a very attractive culture that brings in people from all kinds of artistic disciplines. We have people who are skaters and musicians, graffiti artists, fashion designers, fashion stylists, content creators, photographers, videographers - they usually all find themselves in this place… It draws people together into [a] space where there is so much creative energy, and we encourage a lot of creative collaborations and connections.”
Most recently, in collaboration with the Skateboarding Society of Kenya (SSK), Members of the Earth and GirlSkate welcomed Zimbabwe’s Push Project to the 254, where an impromptu Skate and Sound found skaters as fashion designers and models. Unlike other skate jams hosted by the community, the views and music from the DJ gave way to a runway show of Nairobi-based and Zimbabwean designers spearheading a creative crusade.
Having caught the attention of VOGUE, the Olympics, and Jordan with their work over the years, GirlSkate’s growing numbers have allowed their vision to follow suit. What are now known as Skate Jams paved the way, allowing aspiring DJs of any gender or skill level to play as skaters and skate enthusiasts hone their skills or catch a vibe. Dressed in popular, homegrown streetwear brands like Studio18 and PE$OS Nairobi, skate skills aren’t the only things expressed against the backdrop of the city’s skyline. Regional collaborations with Rwanda’s Fragile, Uganda-based Tutaabale, and skate shop Skating is Risky! have continued fashion and skating’s affair across borders, with equipment and funding flowing into the community as well.
Larger-scale activations and skate presentations, like Uganda’s annual Nyege Nyege Festival, Tanzania’s Boogie in the Bush events, and the PESOS x Grade Africa Protect the Future Event last month, have brought global eyes, connections, and tourism to the city and the group. Their most recent visit from the London-based skate group, Melanin Skate Gals and Pals, for the Kilele Summit, proves that fact.
Quick as it’s been, though, the birthing pains of the movement have been felt around the continent through the likes of Ethiopia Skate, Nigeria’s Dencity, Surf Ghana, and Skateistan in South Africa, to name a few. Recent statistics show the Middle East & Africa (MEA) skateboard market is expected to reach $224.3 million US dollars by 2030, with specific goals around the continent to recognise skaters to compete and provide representation, particularly as the 2028 Olympics loom.
Continuing to create space and visibility for youth and women amidst this push remains of the utmost importance to Cheboi and Apondi, as well as coping with disparities in equipment, skill growth, and a lack of skate shops.
“Gaining global recognition is very important because it shows that we are legit - that what we’re doing is [valued] on a public stage. It grows our reach and makes people know that skateboarding exists in Nairobi and in Kenya. That women are running the scene itself. There’s more opportunity that comes with it - we get more partnerships and people [who] want to work with us. Or they want to fund what we’re doing because it’s really difficult to work without any support. ”
As they look to the future, GirlSkate sees skating in the stars. Cheboi said, “I can’t even believe that this happened in a few years...it’s really grown, and it’s opened up so many possibilities. Now every time we have events or skate jams, we have women participating, women are organising - previously, this was a dream. It wasn’t even possible for women to participate or compete against or [at] the same time as men.”
A recent grant awarded by a French organisation, SOA Paris, has given them the funding they need to host a pilot project in June, aimed at improving their skaters’ skillsets. “For now,” Cheboi said, “we’ve definitely shattered a lot of stereotypes and [stigmas]... we’ve won awards to do this, so I think there’s nothing stopping us now.”
IG: @clungaho
Under the creative direction of its founder, Florentina Agu, Hertunba has churned out 16 collections of wearable art pieces so beloved that they've made multiple red-carpet appearances on Wunmi Mosaku. In the earthen backdrop of moulded clay pots and handwoven rafia rested on a wall, their collection was displayed, and it was deeply conceived as it was beautiful. As with most collections, the clothes are regal, structured and in some cases, traditional but still have a whimsy touch to them.
Founded in 2020 on an ethos of sustainable African craftsmanship, Hertunba's clothes are African opulence embodied. This collection takes the meaning behind their brand and extends it by a mile. Titled Akaoru, meaning handwork, the collection is a celebration of craftsmanship carried through 24 looks which includes a few collectibles.
Very textually rich, the collection comprised handmade pieces from traditional techniques like textile weaving, aso-oke pieces and akwete, alongside pieces from more contemporary handcrafts like crotchet. Beyond fashion-centred crafts, Akaoru is a celebration of other artisanal techniques including woodwork. The collection's only accessories and perhaps most standout pieces are a mahogany bangle and a wood-carved mahogany bag etched with Nsibidi markings, a precolonial writing from Cameron and a few south-eastern Nigeria states. The fabric of some pieces were handpainted with palm tree, hut and other ‘African’ motifs.
What really makes the collection stand out are little sartorial elements. The parallel-placement of the stripes on the aso-oke, the tail of the wrap dress, the silhouettes of most pieces all point to asymmetry as the brief for the tailoring. In terms of silhouettes, they did something cool with sculptural piece silhouettes. But for the most part, the pieces bring back silhouettes they’re loved for. Like every Hertunba collection, there’s Bubu, this time as a two piece bubu top and pants stamped with the x motifs. The pencil cotton dresses have hand straps that are akin to the surrealist playfulness of Dona design.
The collection, in general, does a great job of balancing different textures and elements and meaning, but it lacks freshness in creativity. Some pieces in the collection are old or reworked, such as the Dona top and Mowa set. The Ẹwà necklace top, for instance, although beautifully readapted with African beads, is one Pinterest search away from finding the same thing from different designers. Other pieces too resemble each other so closely that they don’t feel distinct.
For a brand like this that’s had massive attention lately for its artistry, a new collection would have been better off showcasing mostly new designs that strengthen its hold in the industry and define its place. Akaoru will sell because it’s beautiful, but ultimately, it’s yet another example of how a focus on commercialisation can dampen artistic expression. Clearly, fashion designers—especially those who want to make money—have to keep up with trends or predict where things will shift and create along those lines. Generally, designers also try to match the taste of their customers, but when that taste comes through too strongly, it makes the design feel commercial and, therefore, fall flat on the innovative side.
If there were a magical button that could bring me back to a period in time, a music era just for a day, before safely returning to the modern age, then it no doubt has to be the early 2010s. In a time when we were just introduced to the first iPhone, social media platforms were about collecting memories, instead of fabricating them, and everyone was less self-absorbed or micro-online. The earliest tastemakers knew how to test the waters, bringing the vibes organically while getting us hooked to the most legendary dance moves, fashion perks, and community gatherings.
Now that trends evaporate out of thin air and no longer hold the same impact they used to, internet culture tends to recycle the past, claiming it as new, while forgetting what brought us here today. That is what our new content series, Forgotten Jams, is all about: going back in time to reignite a feeling, view the world through a nostalgic lens, and making us whine our waist left and right, even if it is just for one more night.
When we tell you that these songs, theese songs, will forever be ingrained in our memories, there’s no exaggeration here. For a lot of Gen Z’s, now young working adults, those are the moments that defined our childhood, whether you were in South London through the wishy-washy weathers, or stuck in Lagos in the sub-Saharan heat. Deeds Magazine carefully selected a list of songs that have the power to revisit your past self and reignite your inner child that hasn’t felt like themselves since the good ol’ days.
For me, one of the artists who defined the early 2010s is none other than Sneakbo. Coming from Brixton, of Nigerian descent, his bangers always felt close to home and a staple to the broader diaspora community in the UK & Europe. Sneakbo’s ability to mix electronic productions with an Afropop flair, and on top of that, rap lyrics that make your head bop, can only be described as chef kiss. ‘Her Name’ in particular stings like glue because nothing could have prepared us non-Igbo speakers, now as grown adults, for the meaning behind some of those lyrics.
To this day, we don’t know why our Nigerian friends could not have warned us what the word “Ashawo” means, and instead danced Azonto along with us when the chorus hit the speakers. That being said, a moment has been had. All confusion can easily be washed away with a glass of gin and a radio anthem.
“Visit IROKING.COM for more Nigerian Music” Are we seeing a trend here? This is because music videos dominated the 2010s, and Nigerian artist Iyanya’s ‘Kukere’ is no different. All you needed was a catchy refrain, captivating visuals, and a few dance moves, and you had yourself a hit song. Iyanya sent waves to the dance floor, adored by children and old people alike. Exactly like the Efik language suggests, don’t worry. And that message was felt as soon as we played this song and sang the first lyrics: “All my ladies / All my ladies”. Wow, they don’t make it like this anymore.
If we’re talking about a song that could unify every African nationality because of its universal rhythm, this was the one. Similar to the timeless video, when you stepped out in a Congolese wedding, and this song came up, you knew it was time to leave the stage and let your uncle do his thing. Looking back, Iyanya really created an uncle riddim.
The entire skit by comedian Lil Win was genius. Perhaps a close candidate that could have competed with Azonto moves at the time was the Ghanaian dance Alkayida. Guru’s song was just the cherry on top. Despite the recent controversies that gave this replay button a bad reputation, in the 2010s, this was a go-to for many young Africans. Not only did people dance to this, but it also brought us one of our first clashes between Nigerians and Ghanians. Truthfully, both regions have always wanted to claim they were first and basically argue about who had the culture on lock.
What many may ignore is that in this period, influence was much more fairly distributed, while today the dominant forces reign from Lagos and key figures in South Africa. Our playlists ranged from Kenyan anthems to Nigerian, Ivorian, Ghanaian, Congolese, South African, and so much more. In its recent surge of international recognition, the gates have shrunken, with African artists in less popular regions no longer being able to reach the continent & beyond like the early internet age.
When British-Ghanaian artist Fuse ODG came into the scene and brought us hit after hit by cleverly watering down Afropop music, so that it may reach a broader audience, ‘Antenna’ symbolises that era at its peak. Coming of age, we realize that although it seemed like songs such as ‘Azonto’ and ‘Million Pound Girl’ were being played around the world, Fuse’s music truly spoke and connected with diaspora communities the most. This is because he used to sing in English, which was really uncommon at the time, without any sort of mix with native languages.
Moreover, we think that his success can be credited to the dance challenges that came along, specifically from a Manchester duet who had us mimicking every single move in our school breaks. It is safe to say that nobody came as close as the reign of Ghanaians in the early 2010s, and Fuse ODG was a key player in amplifying it.
Looking back, we really have a hard time explaining the phenomenon, which is ‘Oliver Twist’ by Nigerian artist D’Banj. For example, the music video was completely different from what was popular at the time, which had a sombre look similar to the appeal you would get in an American Rap video. The song didn’t come with any memorable dance moves. Aside from the white male dressed in a Peaky Blinders-like outfit, there really weren’t any 2010s elements we were used to attributing to–Still, we were hooked.
To think of it, celebrity culture definitely fell into play here. To have a Kanye West appearance at the time, and at the very last minute of the video, really boosted the popularity of the song. D’Banj was big, but the Americans’ Rap appeal was bigger, and there’s nothing like global influence, such as Black American culture, who have dominated culture since the beginning of Hip-Hop.
Songs and eras may come and go, like falling snow; however, Forgotten Jams is forever, and we have a ton more hits to revisit. Make sure to tune in for our next episode!
Alternative R&B artist kosi returns with a new single “3AM”
On “3AM” she works through the familiarf eeling of yearning for a deeper connection from a loved one and pushes the narrative further by sitting in the feeling, no longer waiting for closure, but recognizing she never needed it.
kosi wants her listeners to move in closer, letting the emotions speak and trusting them to meet her there at those moments that feel intimate, and real.
“3AM”is rooted inAlternativeR&B while still blending textured production with subtle afro and global influences, and is the first single off her anticipated EP“UpTill 5"
kosi opened up 2026 with the single “UNO” ftRigo Kamp in february and followed up with a surpised track “Her Eyes (CryDiary 1.1)” featuring producer Dan Akins where she confronts the feeling of wanting to be someone else.
Still emerging, kosi. is building a catalog with a clear sense of self. Pairing dynamic soundscapes with writing that resonates, each release pushing her artistry forward and cementing her as an artist unwilling to be boxed in.
She isn't chasing a lane.
She's carving her own.
Socials:
IG: @thatkosi
X: @thatkosi
Tiktok: @thatkosi
gmail:kosiofodum@gmail.com
When we speak of Black excellence, Bassa Zéréhoué Diyilem, better known as Didi B, sits at the pinnacle of that hill. Stemming from one of Africa's busiest cities, Abidjan, Ivory Coast, success wasn’t just given to him. It was something he had to fight for. Today, the heavy hitter is respected amongst culture leaders from all walks of life, as a pioneering voice who populariszed French Rap on the African continent and beyond. Together with Kiff No Beat, an Ivorian Award-winning Rap group founded in 2009, he reached unimaginable heights for African kids from the streets, ultimately placing Ivorian Rap in the limelight.
Not everyone can claim full-dominance for almost 15 years in the music business, since his debut solo project ‘Mojo trone, vol. 1’ back in 2013. Didi B remains just as good with his pen. Through controversies and hardships, the Rap mogul not only remained on everyone’s music playlists, but he also persevered through it all. The recent release of his deluxe edition of ‘Juventus Nueva Era’ is a testimony to his power hold. Deeds Magazine sat down with Didi B in an exclusive conversation to discuss his triumphs, his shortcomings, and everything that lies in between.
Laurène for Deeds Magazine: Can you tell us who you are and where you're based?
Didi B: I'm Bassa Zéréhoué Diyilem, known as Didi B, an Ivorian rapper. Sometimes I'm called Mojaveli or Bayo. I'm based in Ivory Coast.
It's not every day that we hear about an artist who breaks through in Abidjan. Can you tell us what it was like growing up there?
Abidjan is the hub of African music. Many artists have seen their careers take off after starting in the Ivory Coast. Like any music industry, it doesn't happen overnight, that's for sure. Abidjan is the city that's always on the go, the city where our neighbors are our second family, the city where young people have supported us since our early days at Faya Flow with the group Kiff No Beat, the city where hospitality is the key word. It's the city of alloco (I didn't say Alokos, lol), attiéké, garba, and grilled fish. I grew up in all of that. I've had, and still have, some great times there.
For us, as outsiders, when we think of the Ivory Coast, we often think of Coupé Décalé and Magic System. How were you introduced to Rap, and which artists did you listen to?
Big up to the masters A'salfo, Manadja, Goudé, and Tino! I grew up with this legendary group, but also with artists like Alpha Blondy and Meiway, who are like father figures to me and people I admire for their talent and their ability to stay relevant despite all these years. Like every kid my age, we were into French and US Rap. But predecessors like Garba 50 and Almighty inspired me. I started rapping in Bingerville with my friends Black K and Elow'n, then Joochar and Eljay. After our victory at Faya Flow in 2010, a Hip-Hop competition, we went pro.
With your friends, you founded a group called Kiff No Beat in 2009. The first African Hip-Hop group to sign with Universal Music. What has your journey been like?
A journey full of pitfalls and obstacles, but also some wonderful things. We experienced a lot of firsts with the group, notably being the first Francophone African rap group at Coke Studio. The group was heavily supported by Ivorian teenagers and young adults, at a time when Rap wasn't the dominant musical genre in Côte d'Ivoire. In 2010, the group won Faya Flow, a Hip-Hop competition. Following that, with people who believed in us, like DA Carmen, our producer, and Shado Chris, our first beatmaker, we launched our professional career. As for albums, I can mention “Christmas Gift” in 2011, “Jackson Five” in 2013, “Teenage Firecrackers” in 2014, “Cubism” in 2015… along with singles and collaborations. This work has been rewarded with numerous titles, such as “Revelation of the Year” in 2011 and “Best Rap/Hip-Hop Group” in 2012 and 2013 at the Ivorian Music Awards.
Almost 15 years in the business, it’s a privilege to have you with us. What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned?
I’ve learned that talent isn’t enough. You have to surround yourself with a solid team, be professional, and understand the music industry.
Out of curiosity, was there ever a moment when you thought, “Wow, I’ve really reached the top. Where do I go from here?” Have you ever felt this way in your career, and how did you overcome it?
I tell myself that all the time, when I'm performing, when I release a new project, but I immediately tell myself I have to get to work and do even better.
One thing we didn't see on the Juventus Nueva Era deluxe edition is a collaboration with a Nigerian artist. Of course, you've already worked with numerous acts like Burna Boy. Are there others in the English-speaking world that you plan to collaborate with in the future?
I've also worked with Naira Marley and Ziloneesky on other projects. We're also working on breaking into the English-speaking market. In fact, I was the first French-speaking artist to receive Gold certification in Nigeria for my song, "Good Vibes" featuring Ziloneesky.
There's a new scene developing in the Ivory Coast, similar to the 'Nigerian underground,' also called 'NigerianUG.' What do you think of it? This movement?
Are you talking about Biama? If you're talking about this new scene, I find it incredible. Seeing young people from working-class neighbourhoods, like me at the very beginning of my career, getting Ivorians dancing to this musical style makes me happy and boosts my creativity. Music is about innovation, but it's also about joy, and that's what Biama conveys.
It was actually a separate scene, but wow! You are putting us on now. One of the biggest fanatical clashes in French rap pitted you against Himra. Where does your relationship stand today?
We're focused on the Zénith.
Finally, is there any important news you'd like to share with the public?
The Ebimpe Stadium for next year.
Thank you for your time, Didi B.
World Creative and Innovation Day is a date set apart to raise awareness of the pivotal role a creative mind plays in human development. African art, whether music or fine art, has always been sidelined for the more accessible and, most importantly, accepted Western alternative.
When I was 15, I lounged in my brother’s Calgary apartment most weekends and was always fascinated by the drums of Fela and Roy Ayers blaring through his speakers. A sharp contrast to the African-American-dominated Rap Caviar playlist I had previously worshipped. The song, “Africa centre of the world”, repeated with a force and authority it takes to pound yam. But “how could that be?” I’d ask myself “How could Africa be the centre of the world, if African immigrants in Canada were willingly avoiding and chastising African art, because of the blessing and burden of the diaspora? But as we blitz through another decade, the tides seem to be turning up here in North America.
The giants of the 21st century, Burna Boy, Tems, Wizkid, Tyla, Fally Ipupa, and more, through their melodies, have brought back gold to our continent, with international triumphs in the US and UK such as Grammys for “Best African Music Performance” and MOBO Award for “Best African Music Act”. Though the creativity that seeps through African content has been finding its way into the frigid country that is Canada, the African musicians here fight for a different type of accolade; that of assimilation, and to be recognized as a musical fusion of two continents is already a win for them.
African-Canadian artists like GNF Ola , Biboye Onanuga, and Raphael Ezeano are a few artists that I’ve come to enjoy while living in Alberta and being surrounded by country music. Gone are the days where you heard African musicians attempting to imitate the flows and accents seen on MTV. Songs like “pay$tack” by GNF invite listeners into, “bur bur”, the stylised genre created by Nigerian artist Mavo, meshed with the trap-infused beats of Canadian rappers. Both Biboye and Raphael retain the melodies and jazz of Fela Kuti while performing in predominantly white spaces. Raphael, who just got off a Canada-wide tour with Avenoir, brings the saxophone of his African youth on stage to show that there is a balance between his two identities within his art.
Biboye and his band “good information music” have also caught the attention of Africans and non-Africans alike, with a perfect mix of African jazz and contemporary North American blues. Ugandan singer Jerumi has also made recent waves here, with songs like “Talk is cheap” and “Signs of miracles”. Redefining the RNB scene here, whose foundation was laid by figures like Daniel Caesar and Avenoir.
Canadian creatives in the realm of fashion and visual arts are also not lagging behind, with brands like Cultwest, 100GB Ani , Azach , and Fiveteen Studios putting the diaspora on the map in a manner similar to the likes of Clint 419, founder of Cortiez and fashion and music filmmaker, Gabriel Moses. “We as Africans see the sun always, and the bright colors have not only influenced my composition, but understanding that I myself am the sun, and my work does not revolve around those I meet here,” says photographer, Ani of 100GB. “I can shine in my own light and melt the snow around me.” This self-assured attitude has led Ani into the backdrop of numerous commercials and editorials within the city, and he serves as a testament to the fusion that is Afro-Canadia.
Cultwest by Eyilola Ajibola uses satirical humor to criticize the capitalist system worshiped by Canadian-African immigrants upon assimilation. With graphics that read “robbers” instead of “Rogers,” (the telecommunications giant that has its fingers in every Canadian industry) Cultwest shows the other side to a soft landing in Yankee and isn’t afraid to call out a system that has neglected his kind. Last summer, Feyisitan Fakolade and Bashir Mustafa of Fiveteen Studios sprang into the Canadian fashion industry with their collection “The Dreamer’s Journey.” Inspired by their Nigerian roots and current lives in China. The Canadian space full of African creatives attracted them to tell a story of relocation and nostalgia through clothes. And for Azach, a sustainable denim brand, Africa isn’t just a spot to farm nostalgia; they have made a name off recycling and repurposing denim in Nigeria and selling it here in Canada, with the profits flowing right where the inspiration comes from.
Whether the Africans in Canada view the country as something to critique or one to share African stories and clothes with, the freedom to do either is what is raising the value of their work within a national lens. So for every Shallipopi “with the granola and shit”, there is an equal and greater African creative that is proud of their tongue and will inevitably succeed because of it.
We Africans are an understandably prideful people, whose egos have taken us to great heights. But our worship of success may also be what is holding us back from being the true center of the creative world. We often only support established creatives like the aforementioned who have made a name for themselves, leaving only Instagram likes and “well done”s for the brethren that walk amongst us also trying to make it. So buy that handmade scarf; if it's not your fancy, spread the word. And in a foreign land like Canada, community means everything to the African artist trying to retell stories.
Research and investment into BIPOC creativity here in Canada is at an all-time high and has made it easier for the “fobs” among us to not shy away from the term, but use our heritage as an advantage in the creative world. Africa is a talent hub that has continually broken systemic barriers in creativity, and we’ve come a long way not from where we began, but from when the rest of the world started noticing just how magical we were. So on this day recognizing global creativity, take a minute to appreciate the beautiful work that has come out of Africa and crossed over the Atlantic into Canada. As our mothers would say, “charity begins at home.” And for the bigots of the world that still undermine our works, ask yourselves, we are ants to you, but gods to who?
Cover image: Raphael Ezeano
In the time that passed between 2022’s Adultsville and the recently released State of Emergency Vol. 1 British-Nigerian R&B songstress Bellah experienced a shift. k, She released a string of one-off singles, lent her voice on features like and explored a role in Channel 4’s Queenie all the while dealing with health constraints.
With the release of lead single, “Boo Thang Bootcamp”, in September of 2025, she appeared primed to reacquaint audiences and fans alike to the alluring vocals and witty composition that caught the world’s ear in the early days of her career.
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Now, coming on the heels of the release of State of Emergency Vol 1, we captured Bellah as she channelled her newfound energy and vibes, which have been so clearly documented on the EP. The title, which feels somewhat fitting for the state of affairs in the background at the time of its release, yet, as you press play, you are once again met with the sonic quality she has brought to the EP. As the first of two EPs, State of Emergency is only one part of what this new era of BELLAH represents. A Bigger, better Bellah.
You just put out the EP, so how does this feel, and what has this moment felt like for you?
I've been taking it in. I've been trying to rest, I've been trying to chill out. I can scream and shout, but they've actually silenced me. especially on Twitter. I'm like, Oh, you're not coming out of the woodworks.
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You took a bit of a break, and now you're back. So even when it was time to come back to music, what said, 'I think I'm ready to come back'?
I feel like I never really stopped creating. I took a break, but I was always creating with this project in mind; it just wasn't as consistent. It was just more sporadic and a bit chaotic. For the whole of 2024, we were looking for a situation where I could release the music, and the moment I got the chance, I was like, ”bet go, I'm ready to do it now.” There is only so much time I can sit on music before I feel like “I'm over this as well. I don't even want to hear this anymore.” So that was what it was. The moment that there was an opportunity to do it,I did.
Do you feel, especially in this current climate, that there is a constant need to always be producing and creating? And how do you think that has impacted how you feel when it comes to making music?
I find that the thing that's working in my favour right now is that because I took that long break, I made a lot of music. Right now, I'm not feeling the pressure to constantly produce music because there's so much music. However, I do believe there will be a time when I'm caught in the very present version of these events. I already feel that way when it comes to content, just being present, and showing that I'm breathing online. If I could, I would drop my music, log off, and be Frank Ocean, riding a bike in Portugal somewhere. I wouldn't do the internet stuff, even though I'm chronically online. I like to be a consumer of things, and if I don't have anything substantial to offer, I don't want to. The friction between me and this current climate is that I don't want to serve the quantity master, because I serve the quality master. That being said, I also understand that we're in a new space, and the algorithm isn't nice to you if you take breaks. It is a weird balance to strike at this time, because I want all the hard work I've put in to pay off, but I also don't want to be doing stuff for the sake of doing.
State of Emergency, that's quite a bold statement and title for the project, and so where did that title and the whole idea for the EP come from?
I made a song called “State of Emergency,” and it felt so big and so amazing that I named the project after it. So then I was like, okay, this is my brief, and I'm going to make all the songs underneath this brief. However, there's power in the tongue, and there were so many emergencies happening in and around me. I was like, " Rah”. I didn't even know the state of the world was going to be this nuts when I released the project. So things were becoming more fitting for the title. At first, I was trying to make it with the vibe that we've got a state of emergency in UK RNB, we need something to shift, we've got to ring the alarm, we've got to wake people up. But then it started to be about myself, and self-reflection and self-awareness and questions like what aren't you taking seriously? Ring that alarm. Is it your boundaries? Is it the way you treat yourself? Your health? Is it your mental health? Then obviously, given the state of the world, what it is, I just want people to find 20 minutes of relief from all of the rubbish that's going on. So it took on so many meanings, and when you hear the music, I want you to feel something very visceral; I want that to be urgent, the way you feel. But it is very broad and has so many, and I'm really grateful for that, because you can explore the project in so many different ways. It's such an umbrella term that can be applied physically and metaphorically.
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Where did that sound and the palette for that begin, and how did you sort of build that? Was there a specific thing that you were trying to capture with the sounds of the EP?
So every time I went into the studio, I knew the sounds had to be immediate when you heard them. I had songs like that that made the project feel like “Boo Thang Bootcamp” and “Typical”, where you know the moment you hear it, it's fine. But I would go into the sessions and say, "The project is called State of Emergency." So, give me something that speaks to that. And so, for things like “Critical Condition,” I came in with the title and said, “I want to make a song like this, but how do we spin it?” And “Burning Desires” became “Burning Desires”. It was called "Triggered " first, and then I wrote the second verse. And I wrote it before I named the project. So when the project was coming out, I was like, "Oh my gosh, I could change the name to' Burning Desires. '" I can change the hook, and it can fit inside this world, and God just made it work out for me in that way. But I think because my intentions were set on this theme, things were just kind of bending towards my will. Things were just making sense to me.
The Bellah you were you when you first started making the EP, versus who you are now? Where would you say you are now?
The Bellah now is the most assured version of herself. Adultsville feels like I was figuring it out, not only sonically but lyrically. Whereas this feels a lot more introspective and assertive: "These are my boundaries; this is what I'm setting for." These are my terms. So now, I'm in the space of what exploration takes place when we understand each other, because I was trying to understand you, and now I'm telling you what I want you to understand. For me, the question is “what happens when we have a certain understanding of each other?”. Hopefully, I can explore that in certain spaces; I still feel like there are stories I haven't told yet, and I'm excited to write about them. So I will be dipping back into the historical archives, because I feel like there are songs that haven’t come to fruition because things were happening whilst I was writing that I'm like, okay, well, I need to log that for when I do the next one. I'm more assured, more confident, and more understanding of what I want and where I want to be, and I'm less okay with just taking it as it is. I'm less okay with accepting circumstances and excuses. So, I'm more assured, more confident, and more open to making things change if they don't want to. For me, you know,
You are somebody who has always been open and vulnerable when it comes to the things you talk about in your music, and so even when you open up in that way, is that something you find easy to do when it comes to expressing yourself in that way?
I've grown up with a mom who has allowed me to express myself in a way that lets people see beyond the surface. She is a social worker, a psychotherapist, all that good stuff. So, I've been having complex emotional conversations from a young age, and as a creative person, it's easy to write about these complex feelings because that's the nature of the conversations I have at home most of the time. Musically, I just surround myself with people who are better than me and who create a safe space for me to have these nuanced, complex conversations. And so, I think when the conversation meets the musical ability, it creates Bellah. I love speaking to people, I love getting through to people, beyond the surface level. I love encouraging people. I love understanding that trauma plays a big part in the way we communicate and interact with each other. I love that everybody has their story, and I'm also aware that everybody's not able to communicate their story the way that they need to or as effectively, and so that's why I believe sometimes putting things that people are too scared or too shy to say in songs gives someone an outlet for something because they may not have known how to articulate that before they heard the song, or before they spoke to me. So I think the human experience is much deeper than people make it out to be, and I want to be part of helping people uncover it.
Even in striking that balance of you being able to still have certain things that you know are yourself, and you know how to sort of toe that line and just make sure that you as a person are also protected within yourself?
I don't think I toe the line in the sense of, ”this is what I want to share with the Internet, this is what I gotta keep.” I think that because these experiences are my own, no one will ever fully understand what I'm going through. So, my vulnerability comes from trying to get us as close as possible to the understanding we need, so that your empathy or understanding can be triggered. I feel like even when I speak about my sickle cell, I can tell you how much it hurts, but you will never know, because you don't have it. There are things I keep away from my social media, like personal things: this is not a conversation I need to have; this is just mine. But the things that I choose to have a conversation about, I really try to let people in as much as possible, because I know there will always be a certain door that you can't open, because it's not your door. However, I can get you as close to the stage as possible, so that you have an understanding of who I am. I think that makes artistry more interesting. I think it makes people more invested in other people's stories. Sometimes I find a disconnect between specifically more RNB artists that I don't really know because you're making such emotional music, and there's nothing for me to like, grab onto, and it's not to say that I want to be nosy and know your life, but there's nothing for me to connect the music and the person as one entity. So, I try to give people an experience where they know this has come from a place, and I understand the place it's come from, even if it's in my own special way.
Those are the moments that you actually need, because those are the moments we actually are able to, you know, check in with yourself. Yes, happen to be like, okay, you know what I am. And you know, there's always the whole thing about one's identity and, like, you know who you are versus what you do. And, yeah, especially when you are someone who's like, you know, a performer or just like, in any sort of, like, outward-facing position in life. You know, people see anything, okay, oh yeah, that's a doctor. She's diseased. But it's also about being like, "You know what?" I am that, yes, but also I'm, I'm more than that as well, you know? And sometimes you don't get to actually realise and understand what that is, until you're out of that space, space?
That is what happened in my time down, the Self Realisation. My mom always says that you're a human being, not a human doing. I live by that now. So, when I say I'm more assured, I'm like, okay, cool. The music is amazing. Everything I'm doing is amazing, but if I stopped doing it today, I would still be just as amazing. I just know that this is the music being low-key, part of my rebellion. It sounds mad, but as I exist right now, these things are not supposed to be working for me. So, it feels like my own version of a revolution, like a middle finger to the systems at be. I get to live my experience, do my human experience the way I want to, not the way you've told me and everybody else I should, but again, all these realisations happen, like you said, in the downtime, yeah, yeah. And I think, because of the downtime, I get really excited to do the things I want to do.
Coming back
My excitement for music right now is because of the downtime, because I have a completely different approach. Whilst I was creating great things, there was an air of desperation that wasn't the good kind. It wasn't the desperation that would get you out of bed in the morning. It was the desperation that came from a very empty place, the kind of desperation that needed Validation to satiate it. Whereas I feel like the desperation I have now isn't about others' validation, but for seeing what I am capable of, seeing what I can do in my time here. I feel like my life is a bunch of really big side quests. So, like, world domination is one of my side quests. How do we get a Grammy side quest? You know, like, and it helps me just wake up in the morning and do what I need to do. And, you know, feed, water, what I need to water, feed, what I need to feed, knowing that the amalgamation of the things that I'm doing is me and not just this one thing, and not just this one sector, So everything's a side quest, which makes everything the main quest, which, you know, in turn, makes everything the side question is a complete circle.
Even as we've spoken about, where you are now, like even in what you've in, what you've just said, and everything, what excites you about, like, you know, this new space that you're in, and just like this new era, and everything?
I'm excited that, for the first time, I’m being my most authentic self, and I’m finding that people are drawn to me more. The idea that people are witnessing me as I am is exciting because it means they're here for the growth, for the journey. And so, the thing I'm most excited about is taking everyone on this journey with me. It's really edifying and heartwarming to know that people just want to see me, not a version of me I put on.
For you, what has been the difference in, you know, creating volume one and then being in the essence of volume two?
Volume One was supposed to be longer, and we had to split it. So some of the songs on Volume One are on Volume Two, and then I'm creating fresh new energies to go on Volume Two, and I think that's what it needs. So I’m excited to kind of curate something based on what we had and how to elevate it. So I can't wait to feel the New Energy and be excited. I feel like volume two will be the one I listen to a little bit after it comes out, since it will be fresher and newer to me., I've cleared up the space in my brain. I'm waiting for the new, fresh downloads. I can't wait for the new downloads. I can't wait to bring the new confidence into the studio. Well, I have it now, but I can't wait to see how that manifests in the studio. So yeah, that's the energy I'm entering with, excitement, anticipation, bigger, better Bellah period.
Team Credits:
Photographer & Creative Director: Will Sousa @wc_sousa
Producer: Seneo Mwamba @seneomwamba
Creative Producer: Zekaria Al-Bostani @zek.snaps
Makeup Artist: Lake Sanu @lakesanu
Hair Stylist: Tomoya Jasmine Eastwood @valoreuk
Fashion Stylist: Jaden Salman @jadensalman
Styling Assistants: Evrade Loredana @evradeloredana & Daniella Fitzgerald @daniellafitzz
BTS Photo & Video: Rimaz Yousif @shotbyrimaz
Design: @dianeadanna
Writer: Seneo Mwamba @seneomwamba
PR: @ourhousepublicity
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In August 2010, a teenage Wizkid posted on X: “I like Fally Ipupa’s music nd style!! lol.. tho I don’t understand wat he say’s bt d tin jst sweet!..” A year later, in October 2011, he was back: “gatto do something wit fally ipupa too!!…” He eventually did - on 'Yakuza', roughly a decade ago. Now they have 'Jam'. Some things are simply inevitable.
West Africa has always felt the pull of Fally Ipupa’s sound travelling across borders, subverting language and cultural barriers for years before any formal introduction was necessary. “Jam” is one of those moments.
For the West African listener encountering Fally Ipupa properly for the first time, the context matters. Often referred to as the “Prince of Rumba,” Fally is a Congolese musician known for his tenor vocals and his fusion of Congolese rumba, soukous and ndombolo. This year marks 20 years of his solo career which began with the 2006 release of his debut studio album Droit Chemin. Set to honour 20 years of relentless hits, he is set to release his eighth studio album, XX with performing two back-to-back sold out shows at the Stade de France.
“Jam” sits within XX as a reunion of sorts, the two artists having last worked together roughly a decade ago on ‘Yakuza’. But those old tweets reframe the collaboration entirely. Wizkid’s admiration for Fally did not begin in a studio. That is the most honest kind of appreciation there is, and ‘Jam’ sounds like the product of it.
The song does not rush. Fally’s vocal runs carry the weight of the track while Wizkid moves alongside them, unhurried, his delivery fitting the soukous-influenced rhythm rather than pulling against it. Producer Trésor Riziki keeps the production clean, blending organic and electronic textures without crowding the space the vocalists need. The soukous-influenced rhythm underneath is the kind that the body recognises before the mind does - familiar on first listen, satisfying on every listen after. The hook is simple and stubborn. It stays.It does not demand anything except attention, and it rewards that attention without making a fuss about it.
When fans found those old tweets and replied “Now we have Jam” - they were marking something beyond a release. Fally Ipupa has spent two decades being one of the most significant artists on this continent. That this is many people's first proper encounter with him says less about the music and more about the walls that have kept African scenes from fully hearing each other.
Think about the last time you saw a movie trailer. It was probably a few minutes long, told you a bit too much about the story, and ended with a loud thud and a release date. In contrast, now think about the last time you were scrolling through TikTok or Instagram and saw a fifteen-second clip of a character looking incredibly cool, perfectly synced to a music track. If you’re like most people lately, that short, punchy clip likely got you more excited for the movie than the actual trailer did, and it’s probably the reason you’ll end up at the cinema this weekend.A ‘Creed’ edit by TikTok creator Areq went viral on the platform, raking in over 200 million views and 21 million likes, that alone says a lot about the edits community.
A massive community of creators, most of which are film fans, are currently turning movie edits into a cultured art form. With smooth slow motion, sharp cuts, and clean transitions, they don’t just edit scenes; they elevate them, giving the movie a different feel.These edits work because they are very direct. They grab your attention immediately, focus on feeling instead of explaining the story, and use music to carry the video. Unlike trailers that try to tell you everything, these edits just make you want more.
Giant movie studios, realizing they can’t beat these editors, have begun including them in their marketing strategy. Lionsgate, the studio behind massive box office hits like The Hunger Games and John Wick, now post their versions of "fan-style" edits created by editors hired off TikTok. Felipe Mendez, Manager at United Talent Agency (UTA), who has been instrumental in leading Lionsgate’s TikTok strategy, notes that this shift wasn't a desperate pivot but a natural evolution of a brand that respects the internet. "Lionsgate was already a leader on TikTok before I started working with them three years ago, doing things that were cutting edge”, Mendez explains. "The studio was one of the first ever brands to embrace TikTok as a real marketing channel. With that, we’ve always looked towards the Internet as something to understand and celebrate, and that means constantly seeing what's next and what's up and coming”. This approach has set a new benchmark for the industry. According to Mendez, the success of these edits has fundamentally changed the standard of social media marketing for studios. It is no longer enough to simply chase the latest viral dance to stay ahead, brands must innovate within the medium itself.
TIKTOK EMBED:
Recently, Ryan Coogler, the director behind Black Panther, reacted to a viral edit of his Oscar-award-winning movie, Sinners.
One of the most interesting things about these edits is the music. While many use various genres, Nigerian editors have started pairing Hollywood scenes with Afrobeats. There is something about the rhythm and the energy of Afrobeats that fits perfectly with a smooth movie transition. Whether it’s an action hero walking away from an explosion or a stylish character entering a room, the beat makes the scene feel different
This trend isn't limited to live-action movies, either. The anime community has jumped in full force. It’s becoming common to see legendary fight scenes from shows like Naruto orJujutsu Kaisen edited to the latest Afrobeats hits. Seeing a high-intensity anime battle synced up to those global rhythms creates a whole new energy that fans absolutely love. It brings two massive cultures together in a way that feels totally natural.
This trend is doing something amazing for the music industry, too. Every time a movie edit using an Afrobeats track goes viral, it pushes that song to millions of people who might never have heard it otherwise. It’s helping Afrobeats become a truly global sound. A person in a different part of the world might see a clip from their favorite movie, love the song playing in the background, and suddenly they’re a fan of a new artist from Nigeria. There is no label strategy behind this, no coordinated rollout, just instinct and creativity. Yet the impact is real; a single edit can move a song across continents.
However, Mendez clarifies that these edits aren't necessarily "better" than trailers, they just serve different worlds. "I think they are just rather different things," he says. "A fan edit on a big screen... would probably not perform as well, as the audience is so different. TikTok is the domain for fan edits." He sees a future where the two styles learn from each other, stating, "Trailers are evolving and so are fan edits... it’s exciting to see how the two could converge for something really new."
This is what makes the edit community so powerful. It operates without a formal structure but with a deep understanding of attention and emotion. While studios are filled with talent, Mendez points out that fan editors have a unique edge: "The best fans/TikTok editors understand how algorithms move and what the platform pushes forward." By embracing this, studios are "scaling these incredible communities and platforming the fans of our franchises."
Ultimately, while much of this work goes unrecognised, the impact is undeniable. As Mendez puts it, the goal is to create "systems that are inherently built to grow" with the internet. Beneath the surface of these quick scrolls is a level of creativity and influence that continues to shape how culture moves online.What looks like simple, quick content is actually a new way of telling stories, led by creators who understand what people want to see almost instantly.
Over the past decade, Afrobeats has expanded far beyond its Nigerian and West African roots, evolving into a global sonic language that moves fluidly across continents. It’s everywhere and still somehow treated like it’s on the verge of arriving. You hear it in clubs in London, in TikTok audios in New York, in playlists that cut across continents without much concern for geography. The artists are touring globally, collaborating widely, building audiences that don’t need to be explained into existence.
Its growth has been driven less by traditional industry pipelines and more by digital ecosystems–streaming platforms, diaspora communities, and social media circulation. In many ways, Afrobeats has already achieved what older industry models would define as global success: sold-out tours, charting records, cross-genre collaborations and cultural influence that extends into fashion, dance and internet culture.
Put all of that together and you start to see the pattern: there isn’t one way to do this. But the Western music industry still tends to act like there is. It’s an assumption that says more about how we’ve been taught to measure success than it does about the current state of Afrobeats.
Recently, a clip reposted by Afrotoday–featuring a self-proclaimed superfan of Ayra Starr urging her to “go back home” and abandon her U.S.-facing trajectory. The logic is simple: her attempts to expand into the U.S. market aren’t landing as expected. But the statement reveals something deeper than critique. It reflects a lingering belief that Western validation remains the ultimate benchmark, even as the structures that once upheld that idea begin to shift.
For audiences raised on linear narratives of success, local recognition followed by Western breakthrough–the current landscape can feel unsettled. But for artists, the reality is far less linear and far more fluid. For Starr, signed to Mavin Records but internationally managed by Roc Nation and operating within a broader global distribution network, she exists between markets that demand different things from her. In Nigeria and across parts of Europe, she is already a fully realised pop star distinct, recognisable, and culturally embedded. In the United States, however, her presence is still forming, often arriving in fragments rather than as a fully constructed narrative.
That gap is not a failure of artistry. It is a reflection of how different systems process visibility. Across the industry, her peers illustrate just how varied these pathways can be. Tems has moved through prestige collaborations and film placements, building a quieter but deeply rooted presence in Western markets. Burna Boy has prioritised global touring, creating scale that exists largely outside the need for American radio validation. Rema achieved a rare crossover moment through viral success that translated across markets. And Tyla has been positioned in alignment with Western pop frameworks, making her rise more legible within that system.
Taken together, these trajectories don’t suggest inconsistency. They expose the limits of a system still measuring success through “breaking America,” an increasingly outdated metric that fails to account for how Afrobeats actually moves. The American market, in particular, continues to rely on legacy systems: radio play, rigid genre categorisation and slow-burn artist development cycles built around control. Afrobeats, by contrast, thrive in environments that are fast, decentralised and borderless. Songs travel before artists do. Hits emerge organically, often without the kind of label orchestration Western systems are designed to manage.
To understand this friction more clearly, it helps to return to the genre’s roots. Afrobeats can be traced back to Nigeria and music icon Fela Kuti, widely considered the architect of Afrobeat. Popularised in the 1970s, Afrobeat merged American jazz and funk with traditional Yoruba music. Over time, that foundation evolved into Afrobeats–a broader, more fluid umbrella used to describe contemporary West African pop music that draws from those origins.
Afrobeats, then, is not a singular genre but an umbrella term often used to describe contemporary West African pop music. And it is precisely this fluidity that resists easy categorisation within Western industry frameworks.
For decades, Western labels have positioned themselves as the site of global arrival–the place where genres are not just heard, but confirmed. To succeed within that system is to become legible on its terms.
But Afrobeats complicates that logic. Western labels are now navigating a steep learning curve, moving from early indifference to aggressive and at times clumsy investment. Major players like Sony Music Entertainment and Universal Music Group have established offices in Lagos, tapping into a market that has already proven its global viability. Yet the issue remains whether these institutions understand the nuance of Afrobeats, or if they are simply repackaging it for Western consumption.
As Afrobeats Intelligence host Joey Akan notes of Ayra Starr’s trajectory, “With Roc Nation’s proven U.S. market dominance and Mavin/Universal’s backing, she’s poised to become Nigeria’s next global breakout.” The infrastructure is clearly in place. The ambition is undeniable. But infrastructure does not guarantee understanding because the challenge has never been about access but translation. Not translation as language, but as framing. How do you present a genre that is already global without reducing it to a trend? How do you introduce an artist to a new market without flattening what makes them distinct? How do you work with movement rather than attempting to contain it?
What appears, on the surface, as a stalled crossover may not be a failure at all. It may be a system struggling to catch up. That reframing shifts the conversation entirely. It suggests that the question is no longer whether Afrobeats can be absorbed into Western systems, but if those systems can adapt to something that does not centre them. And that is a far more difficult adjustment to make.
It requires abandoning the idea that there is a single, definitive version of success. It means recognising that an artist can be globally influential without being universally legible within every market. It means accepting that not all forms of cultural movement are designed to translate cleanly and that forcing them to do so risks losing what made them powerful in the first place.
The fan in the viral clip might be asking Ayra Starr to go back home. But the more pressing question is whether “home” and “away” still function in the way that statement assumes. Because if Afrobeats has already redrawn the map, then the idea of a singular destination, of one place where success is finally confirmed–no longer holds the same weight. And if that’s the case, then the real challenge isn’t for the artists. It’s for the system still trying to make sense of them.
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Closing out the UK leg of her My Ego Told Me To Tour, Leigh-Anne played London’s O2 Kentish Town Forum and brought a show of high energy excellence and a true celebration of this era. Bringing the album to life was an experience and a half from the moments she appeared at the top of the Staircase before making her way to the stage, which she shared with her band members and sole female dancer. It is very apparent that she is not shy, nor is she new to being on stage.
Drawing on R&B, Dancehall & her Caribbean heritage, she showcased on the album the blend and mix of sounds that translated perfectly on stage; the vocals were sharp and on point, and the emotional intensity of the songs was firmly on display. The emotional moments that came through in some of the tracks, mixed with the fiery intensity of others, really brought the words and feelings she poured into the album to life in a way that felt so real and raw.
Standout moments included a special appearance by her husband and twins, who came on stage behind a screen protecting their privacy for the second-to-last song, “Heaven,” which was written about the two. As well as “Dead and Gone,” which really brought to life what felt like a different kind of Leigh-Anne, accompanied by a recording of her X-Factor Audition, it was a brief moment of history about who she was then and, more importantly, who she is now. One thing Leigh-Anne will never not display is the love she has for her fans or her Leigons, as they are known, and so them joining her on stage for the “Tight Up” & “Friends” dance segment was a special moment for the select few that were chosen on stage, one of which included the viral sensation who brought Tinashe’s “Nasty” dance to life.
That moment and the show as a whole were very strong, offering and once again solidifying where Leigh-Anne sits in her artistry, bringing to life the essence of her ego and pouring it out on the stage, was really a sight to see. The stage that was set with a few window screens some of which were shattered, and all masked with caution tape labelled My Ego Told Me To, the lighting moved between shades of green and red, the dancer dressed in an identical outfit to Leigh-Anne’s, except in black, and the band played the instruments and brought to life the sounds of the album. Overall, the show felt like a real warning to those out there: this is a different Leigh-Anne, and she is somebody to watch out for.
At Lagos Fashion Week’s more deliberate offshoot, Woven Threads VII, the question shifts toward whether anyone is actually doing the work. This past weekend, Woven Threads VII returned with CRAFTED, a programme centred on material, process, and circular design. Curated by Sunny Dolat, this year’s edition brought together designers working across textiles, reconstruction and material innovation, alongside talks and live demonstrations focused on reuse and responsible production. While the programme leans into the language of circularity, what emerges on the ground feels more uneven, and far more compelling: African designers negotiating what it means to make clothing responsibly in real time.
“Craft” carries its own visual shorthand. Across the weekend, the collections that cut through were the ones that pushed beyond reference, with the process staying visible and unresolved. Alongside the talks and workshops, the presentations offered a clearer read on where designers are actually pushing the conversation forward. These were our standout selections from the weekend that stood out for how clearly they approached craft beyond concept, and more as something embedded in how the clothes are made and worn.
Hertunba presented a collection grounded in material identity and surface storytelling. Handwoven textiles carried repeated motifs referencing familiar environments, applied with precision across garments. The silhouettes stayed controlled, with peplum tops, wide-leg trousers, and layered sets that held their shape while allowing for movement. It felt considered from start to finish, with a clear visual language running through each look. In a space where craft can tend to lean expressive, Hertunba’s restraint reads as intention.
Pettre Taylor moves in a more unstable direction, focusing on construction and variation in technique in their presentation. Dyed textiles, knit structures, crochet, and patchwork appeared across the collection, each look introducing a different approach to making. The silhouettes shifted between loose, draped forms and more defined pieces, with layering used to build depth. This variety holds everything in place. Craft here reads as labour, present and unresolved.
Eki Kéré takes a steadier approach. The repetition of leaf cut-outs, raffia, and textured surfaces creates a through-line that makes the collection easy to follow. There’s a clear commitment to reuse, but what stands out is the consistency —materials reworked across silhouettes without feeling repetitive. The shapes, wraps, wide forms, layered pieces, stay familiar, which lets the surface work do the talking. It’s less about impact, more about building a recognisable language and sticking to it, and this presentation was undoubtedly Eki Kéré.
Kokrobitey Institute sits somewhere in between experimentation and presentation. The emphasis on visible processes like knots, loops, and hand-altered textiles keeps the focus on making, but at times the garments feel secondary to the technique. That said, when it clicks, it’s strong. The looser silhouettes and suspended elements give the materials space to move, and the weight of the textiles comes through. It’s a collection that prioritises process, sometimes at the expense of finish, but that is part of its appeal.
Oshobor understands pacing. The opening looks were clean, tailored, grounded in neutral tones, and set a clear foundation. When texture comes in, it shifts the entire collection: fringe thickens, surfaces become heavier, silhouettes expand. The contrast between smooth and textured is where it works best. Some of the later looks push volume to the edge, but the restraint in colour keeps everything held together. It’s one of the more visually immediate collections, with a strong sense of how each look occupies space.
What ties these designers together is a shared insistence on process. Within a wider framework that includes initiatives like IRAPADA, focused on tracking and repurposing textile waste within Lagos’ fashion ecosystem, Woven Threads VII allows these ideas to take material form.
Across these selections, what stands out most is clarity. Each designer approaches craft differently, through control, accumulation, repetition, or material experimentation. In a programme centred on process, that balance is what separates a good idea from a collection that actually stays with you. CRAFTED landed clearly in its openness and allowed these designers to treat craft as a working condition, something to move through, test, and hold in place. Because if Woven Threads VII is mapping out a circular fashion system, these designers show what that looks like up close.
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Let me remind you that the new joint project ‘See What We’ve Done’ by King Promise and Mr Eazi is not just your mere industry get-together. King, a Highlife award-winning Ghanaian artist, and Mr Eazi, the Nigerian Banku Music champion, are joining forces in celebration of a lifelong brotherhood. This is almost ten years in the making, coupled with an unbreakable friendship that we are fortunate enough to witness it through a sonic delight. You asked for it, and the famous pair delivered–with every second’s warm ambience and serenading lyrics reminding us all how much we’ve missed hearing the two together.
This should come as no surprise, after supporters have been anticipating for years for an official comeback of Afrobeats’ favourite duo. 9-track of pure expressionism twisted in Twi, English and Pidgin, existing within the realm of Afropop/R&B, and they all trace back to a studio session in Accra in 2013. Since then, the brothers by spirit have garnered flourishing careers, settling in a world of romance. Deeds Magazine sat down with King Promise to unfold the collaborative album and set the record straight: Ghana’s and Nigeria’s undeniable bond is here to stay, and at full display in ‘See What We’ve Done’.
Laurène for Deeds Magazine: When you first announced a collaborative project, it really took the world for a spin! We had seen your friendship blossom before our eyes, with you recently attending Eazi’s wedding, but nothing could prepare us for this sonic ride between the two soft giants of West Africa. Tell us, how did the idea for seeing what you’ve done initially come about?
King Promise: It was actually very organic. Mr Eazi and I have built a real friendship over the years, beyond just music. We’ve always appreciated each other’s sound and the space we each occupy in Afrobeats. This is the right time to create something together. It started from our fans actually calling for more music from us after our initial collaborations had all been epic. We obviously have individual careers and mad personal schedules, so it's taken quite a while. Still, finally, after a few years of the fans asking and us also wanting to do it, the album is finally here.
Listening to the album carefully, it’s ‘Dabedi’ all over again, but times a hundred! If I’m not mistaken, in 2018, this was our first official introduction of you two together in the same music realm. Little did we know as supporters that almost a decade later, ‘See What We’ve Done’ would be at our front door. Why was it important to unveil the project now in the year 2026?
Yeah, “Dabebi” with Mr Eazi was definitely a moment and looking back now, it almost feels like a seed we planted without even realizing how far it would grow. I think what makes See What We’ve Done special is timing. Back then, we had chemistry, but now we have experience, growth, and a deeper understanding of ourselves as artists and as people. We’ve both evolved, sonically and personally, and that reflects in the music.
Speaking of nostalgia, on the single “That Way”, you reinterpreted the American Pop classic, “I Want It That Way” by the Backstreet Boys. It’s like the song was given a new breath of life, a refreshing outlook, and some African sun rays, of course. Who came up with this brilliant mashup?
I did. Haha. The idea first came from a conversation I was having with my manager early last year as I was working on my next body of work. We spoke about sampling more records that made sense after the success of my song “Favourite Story” He said, “Why not do something different for the next one from a boyband?” That sounded epic to me, and after going through some of our fav boyband classics, “I Want It That Way” spoke to me instantly. It’s one of those timeless records almost everyone grew up on, so there was already that emotional connection. Honestly, that was one of those moments that just happened most naturally.
Fast forward, I had already gotten in the studio with Guiltybeatz and Jae5 and made the record just before I went to Dubai for Eazi’s wedding. We were in a car heading to the wedding when I played it for him while we were catching up, discussing music, and what the next steps were for each other. That was the birth of See What We’ve Done because we agreed on that drive to finally make it happen.
There was a time when you couldn’t speak of Ghana without Nigeria in the same sentence. In the early 2010s, which I like to call the prime of Afrobeats, the two regions were in constant battle with each other. But it was healthy competition! Whereas now, it seems like the limelight has mainly shifted to Nigeria, specifically Lagos. This joint project brought some of that early feeling back. I wonder, where’s there some of that friendly rivalry during studio sessions?
I get what you mean, because that Ghana–Nigeria dynamic has always been part of the culture, and it definitely pushed the sound forward. But for us, it’s never really been about competition; it’s more like motivation. I think what this project shows is that it’s not Ghana versus Nigeria, it’s Ghana and Nigeria. When you blend those two energies, it becomes something bigger than both sides. At the end of the day, it’s all about making great music that represents where we come from.
On a lighter note, I think the main theme of this project is love. During my first listen, I wrote down the following: “The theme of love throughout See What We’ve Done reflects the stage of each artist’s life, and comes at the cost of an unbreakable brotherhood.” King, can you tell us three things you love about your friend Eazi?
First, I’d say, ambition. Second, his mindset. He’s always thinking bigger than just music. He thinks about business, impact, and legacy. Being around that kind of energy pushes you to show up in your own way. Lastly, the goal is to enjoy life, be himself and not let anything stress him.
We can’t talk about music without looking at the current soundscape. One thing about both of your contributions is that you’ve always been in your own lane and prioritized growth with your listeners over the music industry. Do you believe there is intentional, timeless, African music of substance, circulating in the mainstream arena right now?
Yeah, I definitely think it exists, but you have to be intentional about finding it, just like the artists have to be intentional about making it. The mainstream today is very fast. There's a lot of music coming out, a lot of trends, a lot of moments. But within all of that, there are still artists creating timeless, meaningful African music. Music that isn’t just for now, but something you can come back to years later and still feel.
Thinking about you as a duo, it really does make sense now. Of course, we had Asake and Wizkid release earlier this year, Tems and Dave working, Angélique and Ayra Starr surprisingly. How would you say that you manage to stand out from the crowd?
I think first of all, it’s a beautiful time for the culture, seeing collaborations like Asake and Wizkid, Tems and Dave, even Angélique Kidjo and Ayra Starr, it just shows how wide and powerful African music has become. For Mr Eazi and me, I think what makes us stand out is the intention behind what we have created. It wasn't put together by a label or management. It wasn't orchestrated by anyone, but a friendship of about 13 years from boys to men. We’re not just putting songs together; we've built a body of work that reflects our journey, our friendship, and our growth over time.
You’re known as tastemakers, trendsetters and trailblazers not only in Africa, but across the world. Who are emerging artists, either from Ghana or Nigeria, you think we should be tuning into today?
There’s a lot of exciting talent coming up right now; honestly, it’s a great time for the next generation. From Ghana, I’d say keep an eye on Black Sherif, OliveTheBoy, Lasmid, Arathejay and Kojo Black. I would leave Nigeria to Eazi.
When this interview is released, the project will most likely already be out by now. Is there an important message you would like to say to your long-time supporters?
First of all, I just want to say thank you. To everyone who has been rocking with us from day one, and to those who are just discovering the music now, I don’t take any of it for granted.
This project with Eazi is really a reflection of growth, patience, and staying true to ourselves. And the fact that the fans have allowed us to evolve, to experiment, and to still support us at this level means everything.
Finally, this is an exclusive, by the way, I’m speaking it into the universe. Can we fans expect some tour dates for the album anytime soon? If yes, when?
I like that, you’re putting it out there already. We’re still putting things together, making sure it’s done the right way
Thank you, King Promise, for your time.
We've discussed the Toronto music scene for some time, noting artists such as Dylan Sinclair and Aqyila as key representatives of Toronto's R&B. Now, as these artists make their mark, they highlight the region's rich, growing talent.
Amongst those artists is also Chxxry. As a child of two Ethiopian immigrants who made their way to Canada, she is also part of the Canadian R&B story. Her musical presence became known through her viral hit “Main Character,” released last year. However, before the moment happened for her, she was somebody who had been a part of the music scene for a minute. As someone who grew up singing, it is not foreign to her. Her debut single, “The Falls”, introduced her with a darker, somewhat more alternative vibe that drew on Toronto R&B natives The Weeknd and PARTYNEXTDOOR and very much set the tone for R&B artists to come.
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Now, 4 years since her debut, she is creating something for herself and pushing beyond what is expected from her. With two EPs under her belt, she is ready for her album, expected to drop later this year. The first single of the album just arrived. “Hall of Fame” is an introduction to this new era and is the first taste of what we can expect from the album, and has been described as “pre-party for my album”. Having just concluded her opening slot on Mariah The Scientist’s Hearts Sold Separately Tour, playing for audiences all over the world, it's clear that this is a new chapter in Chxrry’s story. We met Chxxry and spoke about everything from her musical journey so far to her time as an artist in Toronto, redefining her sound, her upcoming album, and more.
Hi Chxxry, great to meet you. Starting at the beginning, what was your initial introduction to music?
So both my parents immigrated to Toronto from Ethiopia and didn't speak English. They both sang in a choir, so growing up, my parents just made us sing a lot. They made us sing a lot of Christian songs, Ethiopian songs, all my home videos, all my early childhood memories were of singing that was weirdly our love language, and that was what bonded us and bridged the gap of us being first gen and them being immigrants. So that's just really how I got into music, it was through my parents,
And was there a particular moment when you knew that singing was something you wanted to do beyond just being a hobby?
I think it was my brothers; they just weren't as good as I was. So it was obvious when we would all sing, and it'd be like she sounds really good, like, she's really standing out. And then I remember the choir director at my church. He went to my dad and said to him, " You know, she could really sing, like, you should really take this seriously”. And my dad had a friend, actually, who was adamant, like he used to tell him that you need to do something, this kid can really sing. And I just became known for it. I used to sing at birthdays and weddings, and I just became the girl who could sing. So my parents eventually became undeniable. I was just really talented and just really good at it.
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So even with your parents knowing about your talent and hearing it from people. Did they foster that creativity and support that talent within you?
No, they didn’t. I love my parents; they're amazing people. My mom exposed me to a lot of different things and was very lenient. My dad, on the other hand, was really strict. I think, as immigrants, they don't really know any other way than hard work. They didn't understand the Internet. So even when I went viral, and I told my dad, he didn't really get it. I was like, " Quit your job. I'm famous. And like, I wasn't. But to this day, he thinks that story is so crazy because he's like, "What do you mean?" But he doesn't get it that people can get famous overnight.
Being in Toronto and just the music scene there. How did you find being around the music out there, and what was your experience of it?
I think it was intensely moody. There was a moment when The Weeknd, PARTYNEXTDOOR, Drake, and Daniel Caesar all emerged together. LR&B felt dark and atmospheric, and we set the tone for the rest of the world. Every R&B song you heard traced back to Abel or Drake; that defined Toronto’s sound. We shaped dark R&B, turning it into the movement R&B became. Now, I believe we’ve entered a new era. What I’m creating stands apart—it’s vibrant and original. The city hasn’t seen a woman bring change like this before. I’m genuinely excited; I feel my album will launch something entirely new. After everything I accomplished last year, I know this year will be even bigger. The music is about to take off.
Speaking to your own music and finding what that sound was to you, how did you discover that for yourself?
I think, naturally, being from Toronto, my taste was definitely darker, moodier R&B in the beginning, for sure, but I think now I just want to create my own legacy and start my own stride, you know. And I think “Main Character” was the start of me being like I figured it out, this is what I want to do. And, now I'm entering a new flow state, yeah.
You just put out your new single, “Hall of Fame”. Tell us about the new single and the process of making it?
I was heavily inspired by older pop songs and was searching for the feeling I had when I listened to them as a younger person. And I really wanted something that was also a nod to my city. It was actually the last song I made for this album. When my producer played me the beat, I knew it was the song that the project was missing.
How do you feel this particular single introduces us to what we can expect from the album?
“Hall of Fame” is basically the pre-party for my album. It's like a glimpse into my real life and the outer ego of the world that is Chxrry.
You've spoken about the album, which I know is coming out later this year. How did you find the sound, and what vibe did you want?
I don't want to keep doing the same things, and I don't want any album to sound like the last one. And I always want people to be, like, excited about what I'll do next. I still always want to push the envelope. So even when I dropped “Poppin Out”, that was so different for me. Yeah, and I was so nervous, I was like, oh, it's not slow, it's not dark, like, and I think it felt like me. It felt like the real me, you know, not like, well, this is where I'm from, this is what I'm supposed to sound like. It's what I'm supposed to like. It just felt free. And I think people read that, and I think people were really into that. So just keeping that energy, I just kept that, kept on going with that, even with the new album and everything.
If people have never heard the music before, this is their first taste of your sound. How would you describe this album as not even like an introduction to yourself, as to who Erry is about?
I feel like this album describes me as just brave. I think this album is gonna show them that I want to be more than just a moment. I want to create something timeless. Everything I do. I just want it to mean something. I want it to inspire people. I want to be inspired. And, yeah, I just want to do new shit, like I don't know. I never want people to know what I'm gonna do next. The shit part about the internet is that if something's different and exciting, it always just has to be like, ridiculed so harshly, until it becomes normalised, I guess, and everybody just has like, one brain, and it really sucks. But I know that there's a reward for being different, and I know there's a reward for taking chances and trying to push art,
You just finished opening for Mariah The Scientist on tour, and you played shows internationally, so what was it like to see people respond to your music and just see the different crowds everywhere you went?
It was amazing. I didn't even know this many people knew me, so I'm really excited and blown away every day by the crowds, how much they engage, and how they sing the songs. It makes me want to come back for my own headline tour and do this all over again.
What would you say has been like, the growing moments that you've experienced, even just being on your journey so far?
I think every single day I have, like, Aha, like, moments like, I don't know, like, every day I just feel like things click, more and more. There are so many things I've heard along the way. I'm not really an in-the-moment kind of person. I don't realise things in the moment; I always realise them way after the fact. I tend to miss signs and advice, and I'm someone who learns from experience, so I'm just learning as I go. I think what I'm trying to say is that my learning really happens in reflection, rather than in the moment.
What are you looking forward to, even in the next stage of your journey?
Honestly, just seeing where this music takes me, like, what new opportunities it'll bring, what new places I'll see, being inspired by new people and by new things, like all these things, create the next album and create the next era, and, yeah, life is just it's not really about one moment. It's about like multiple, so that's what I look forward to.
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