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How Afrobeats made UK Africans proud of our heritage How Afrobeats made African Brits proud of our heritage
(35 minutes later)
For fans of Afrobeats, grime and hip-hop, the surprise release of a remix to Wizkid’s Ojuelegba featuring Skepta and Drake was the stuff of musical fan fiction. The collaboration between three undisputed genre giants was always likely to be an event. But for some it was a throwaway line in Skepta’s verse that really struck a chord.For fans of Afrobeats, grime and hip-hop, the surprise release of a remix to Wizkid’s Ojuelegba featuring Skepta and Drake was the stuff of musical fan fiction. The collaboration between three undisputed genre giants was always likely to be an event. But for some it was a throwaway line in Skepta’s verse that really struck a chord.
“When I was in school, being African was a diss. Sounds like you need help saying my surname, miss,” reminisces the grime star. And with those two sentences, Skepta transported UK-based members of the diaspora back to our collective childhoods, in which “African” was part identity, part insult.“When I was in school, being African was a diss. Sounds like you need help saying my surname, miss,” reminisces the grime star. And with those two sentences, Skepta transported UK-based members of the diaspora back to our collective childhoods, in which “African” was part identity, part insult.
It’s the shared secondary-school anecdote of most second-generation immigrants: a nondescript classroom with a teacher at the front who takes a deep breath before butchering your name, much to the amusement of sniggering students. A combination of Oxfam ads and Red Nose Day campaigns convinced classmates that their pocket money was somehow keeping our entire continent afloat. If you were African, it was universally understood that you were perpetually starving, and the food you attempted to conceal in your lunchbox from cafeteria scrutiny was sniffed at for “smelling funny”.It’s the shared secondary-school anecdote of most second-generation immigrants: a nondescript classroom with a teacher at the front who takes a deep breath before butchering your name, much to the amusement of sniggering students. A combination of Oxfam ads and Red Nose Day campaigns convinced classmates that their pocket money was somehow keeping our entire continent afloat. If you were African, it was universally understood that you were perpetually starving, and the food you attempted to conceal in your lunchbox from cafeteria scrutiny was sniffed at for “smelling funny”.
The constant derision inevitably led to a generation of African students abridging surnames, staunchly denying “rumours” they were from the continent and adopting imaginary Jamaican parents along with a culture that wasn’t their own. Those who stood firm were met with merciless name-calling and mud-hut jibes.The constant derision inevitably led to a generation of African students abridging surnames, staunchly denying “rumours” they were from the continent and adopting imaginary Jamaican parents along with a culture that wasn’t their own. Those who stood firm were met with merciless name-calling and mud-hut jibes.
But the anti-African sentiments that were so strong during my day have since been replaced with an unshakeable sense of pride; a change that has been hugely influenced by music. The emancipation of the African schoolkid was due to Afrobeats – an umbrella term for the new wave of African pop that takes cues from hip-hop, grime and house music – and now the thought of ever having been embarrassed of our ancestry is, well, embarrassing.But the anti-African sentiments that were so strong during my day have since been replaced with an unshakeable sense of pride; a change that has been hugely influenced by music. The emancipation of the African schoolkid was due to Afrobeats – an umbrella term for the new wave of African pop that takes cues from hip-hop, grime and house music – and now the thought of ever having been embarrassed of our ancestry is, well, embarrassing.
Most of us were already well acquainted with Afrobeat (without the “s”) thanks to our parents blaring Fela during church car journeys. But the internet ensured that Afrobeats, which started shaping Lagosian adolescence through the mid-2000s, also shaped a minority of Londoners.Most of us were already well acquainted with Afrobeat (without the “s”) thanks to our parents blaring Fela during church car journeys. But the internet ensured that Afrobeats, which started shaping Lagosian adolescence through the mid-2000s, also shaped a minority of Londoners.
The Afrobeats golden era coincided with my generation’s coming of age – in 2006, we gushed about walking down the aisle to 2Face Idibia’s African Queen as we hurriedly made it our Sony Ericsson Walkman’s ringtone.The Afrobeats golden era coincided with my generation’s coming of age – in 2006, we gushed about walking down the aisle to 2Face Idibia’s African Queen as we hurriedly made it our Sony Ericsson Walkman’s ringtone.
A year later P Square’s Do Me had made it to MTV Base and Olu Maintain’s Yahooze had Nigerians singing about the internet scams that usually caused quiet embarrassment.A year later P Square’s Do Me had made it to MTV Base and Olu Maintain’s Yahooze had Nigerians singing about the internet scams that usually caused quiet embarrassment.
By the time 9ice released his game-changing anthem Gongo Aso, we had been inundated with our own icons whose swag rivalled that of American rappers.By the time 9ice released his game-changing anthem Gongo Aso, we had been inundated with our own icons whose swag rivalled that of American rappers.
Afrobeats artists were the best PR team we could have ever asked for. Talented, arrogant and unapologetically African, they sang of the realities of poverty, but also of love, sex and heartache. Society had previously seemed unable to accept that Africans could be multifaceted human beings.Afrobeats artists were the best PR team we could have ever asked for. Talented, arrogant and unapologetically African, they sang of the realities of poverty, but also of love, sex and heartache. Society had previously seemed unable to accept that Africans could be multifaceted human beings.
Soon our parents’ favourites crept out of hall parties and into nightclubs – on a night out, Bunny Mack’s Let Me Love You, Daddy Lumba’s Aben Wo Ha and Magic System’s Premier Gaou all signified the start of what could only be an awesome Afrobeats set. Our parents stifled smirks at seeing a younger generation defined by the same music as theirs.Soon our parents’ favourites crept out of hall parties and into nightclubs – on a night out, Bunny Mack’s Let Me Love You, Daddy Lumba’s Aben Wo Ha and Magic System’s Premier Gaou all signified the start of what could only be an awesome Afrobeats set. Our parents stifled smirks at seeing a younger generation defined by the same music as theirs.
If 2006-2008 marked Afrobeats’ prime era, then 2008-2011 is when the genre went platinum. With Wizkid, Sarkodie, Banky W, Ice Prince, Castro and Don Jazzy’s Mo’ Hits crew dominating playlists, it wasn’t long before they entered the mainstream charts, with Akon, Chris Brown and Rick Ross all attempting to ride the waves it had made overseas.If 2006-2008 marked Afrobeats’ prime era, then 2008-2011 is when the genre went platinum. With Wizkid, Sarkodie, Banky W, Ice Prince, Castro and Don Jazzy’s Mo’ Hits crew dominating playlists, it wasn’t long before they entered the mainstream charts, with Akon, Chris Brown and Rick Ross all attempting to ride the waves it had made overseas.
Kanye West even signed D’banj to his record label in 2011, but our collective pride didn’t come from his validation, we simply felt smug at the fact we’d been in on it first.Kanye West even signed D’banj to his record label in 2011, but our collective pride didn’t come from his validation, we simply felt smug at the fact we’d been in on it first.
A deluge of UK Afrobeats artists emerged, whose dual identities doubled our pride. But it was much bigger than the music: once-rejected Ankara and Kente fabrics re-entered our wardrobes way before Topshop cottoned on. The impassioned lyrics made those of us who hadn’t learned our native language determined to do so, and those who had felt like they knew the passwords to a secret clubhouse.A deluge of UK Afrobeats artists emerged, whose dual identities doubled our pride. But it was much bigger than the music: once-rejected Ankara and Kente fabrics re-entered our wardrobes way before Topshop cottoned on. The impassioned lyrics made those of us who hadn’t learned our native language determined to do so, and those who had felt like they knew the passwords to a secret clubhouse.
For all these reasons, the significance of Skepta’s line is not lost on us young African Brits – especially as they sit on top of the sounds that essentially saved us from the tyranny of inner-city school.For all these reasons, the significance of Skepta’s line is not lost on us young African Brits – especially as they sit on top of the sounds that essentially saved us from the tyranny of inner-city school.
“I had to tell my story, cause they’d rather show you black kids with flies on their faces on the television,” is how Skepta finishes his verse. Thankfully, the diaspora learned long ago to stop waiting on TV for positive images of Africa that never came. Instead, we found the vibrancy, energy and richness of our cultures in our iTunes library.“I had to tell my story, cause they’d rather show you black kids with flies on their faces on the television,” is how Skepta finishes his verse. Thankfully, the diaspora learned long ago to stop waiting on TV for positive images of Africa that never came. Instead, we found the vibrancy, energy and richness of our cultures in our iTunes library.