As we look deeper into Nigerian music, beyond the Pop hits that have come to define Afrobeats globally, we unearth some conscious songs with messages that speak to the soul.
By Abioye Damilare Samson
In August 2024, Jamaican Reggae legend, Buju Banton, sat down on the Drink Champs podcast show, where he voiced a thought-provoking critique of Afrobeats. “Afrobeats is not uplifting Africa. It’s not freeing the minds of the people. Yes, the artistes are making money, but what would be said of them when they’re gone? When they couldn’t use their music to uplift their people”.
His remarks, aimed at Nigeria’s most globally recognised genre, sparked conversations around whether the music indeed champions social change or has simply become a vehicle for entertainment.
This legend’s criticism of our music brings to mind Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s insights in her famous TED Talk, The Danger of a Single Story, where she warns about how narratives—shaped by limited perspectives—distort people’s understanding of cultures and communities. The truth, however, remains that Nigerian music is thematically vast and expansive, with a long-standing legacy of music that challenges the status quo and highlights societal ills.
While it is undeniably true that some mainstream songs are built for carefree escapism and provide a much-needed respite from the harsh realities of life, one cannot ignore the fact that the same music industry has birthed—and is still birthing—some of the most powerful conscious music.
From Fela Kuti’s 1977’s track, “Zombie”, a searing protest anthem that likened Nigerian soldiers to mindless followers of oppressive orders, to Majek Fashek’s 1989’s song, “Police Brutality”, which condemns unchecked police power and violence, Nigerian music has always served as a conduit for social commentary.
As we look deeper into Nigerian music, beyond the Pop hits that have come to define Afrobeats globally, we unearth some conscious songs with messages that speak to the soul, urge listeners to reflect on the realities of their surroundings, and prove that Nigerian songs can be a powerful vehicle for change.
“Police Brutality” — Majek Fashek (1989)
On “Police Brutality”, Majek Fashek, one of Nigeria’s Reggae legends, taps into the pain of Nigeria drowning under the weight of oppressive governance. Released in 1989 off his debut album, Prisoner of Conscience, it aims at the unchecked powers of the police and the violence they let loose on the innocent.
Over an infused Reggae rhythm, Fashek’s evocative vocals and potent lyricism detailed a country seized by chaos. The chorus, “Dem dey loot, dem dey shoot/ Dem kill all leaders of tomorrow”, cut through with raw urgency and distilled the existential despair of a generation that watched police brutality.
“Suuru Lere” — Lagbaja (2000)
Lagbaja’s “Suuru Lere” is a song that captures Nigeria at a critical juncture—the dawn of democracy in 1999, just after Olusegun Obasanjo took over as president.
Against the backdrop of a nation still reeling from the scars left by the late General Sani Abacha’s brutal military regime, Lagbaja’s sombre melodies and introspective lyrics express deep concern over the political elite’s greed and corruption. It’s a bittersweet anthem for survival in a nation where hope is a rare commodity, and patience is the only currency left for those looking toward an uncertain future.
“E Be Like Say” — 2Baba (2006)
The smooth flow and Hip-Hop-tinged beat of 2Baba’s “E Be Like Say” might make one sway to the rhythm without immediately feeling the weight of the lyrics. But when he sings, “Cause they think the money gives them the power/ But the power is nothing if your people cannot get quality education/ The power is nothing if your people keep on dying of disease and starvation”, one begins to grasp the depth of the message.
Behind that mellow groove and polished production, it’s 2Baba pulling the veil back on the false promises of ‘shady politicians’ and the frustrations of the common man.
“Zombie” — Fela Anikulapo Kuti (1977)
More than being the originator of Afrobeat, Fela Kuti was—still is—one of the powerful voices in the history of African music. He was a fearless voice that dared to confront power and expose the truth. In his iconic track “Zombie”, he delivers a critique of the military and strips away their false authority to show their mindless loyalty to oppressive regimes.
The song opens with guitar strums and a very long horn section that sets the stage for Fela’s biting lyrics, “Zombie no go turn unless you tell am to turn (Zombie), Zombie no go think unless you tell am to think (Zombie)” which mock soldiers who follow orders like robots, mindlessly complying with commands. Even decades after its release, “Zombie” continues to stir discussions about Nigeria’s troubled relationship with authority.
“Fire On The Mountain” — Asa (2007)
So many song titles give a glimpse into their themes, and Asa’s “Fire on the Mountain” off her eponymous 2007 classic debut album is no exception. The title conjures an immediate sense of urgency that hints at the looming crisis in Nigerian society.
With her soft vocals layered over simple guitar strums, Asa renders a stark warning with the line, “There is fire on the mountain, and nobody seems to be on the run” She then sings in a prophetic tone, “One day the river will overflow/ And there’ll be nowhere for us to go/ And we will run run/ Wishing we could have put out the fire”, to remind us of the consequences of ignoring the signs.
“E Dey Pain Me Gaga” — Original Stereoman (2006)
Emerging from the Reggae-drenched soundscapes that dominated Nigeria’s music scene in the late ‘80s, Original Stereoman carved out his lane with Galala—a genre popularised by cohorts of artistes like Daddy Showkey, Mad Melon, Marvellous Benjy, Baba Fryo, and others.
For Original Stereoman, his music mirrors the realities of the people whose lives are pressed on the edges in the trenches. His track “E Dey Pain Me Gaga”, captured his angst and frustration at the poverty and rampant violence that defined life for so many Nigerians at the time.
“Motherland (Area)” — Sound Sultan (2002)
Long before the mass exodus—now infamously dubbed “japa”—became a hot topic of conversation among Nigerians, the late Sound Sultan had already captured the essence of this bittersweet reality in his heartfelt ballad, “Motherland” in 2002. It is a deeply emotional plea to Nigerians abroad to hold on to the memories and identity that define them.
Fourteen years after its release, it was re-mastered into a Reggae version featuring Ada in his 2016 album, Out Of The Box, and transformed into a love tune with a remix alongside Johnny Drille in 2020.
“Mr President” — African China (2000)
Drawing from his experiences growing up in the underbelly of Lagos mainland, African China—one of Nigeria’s shining stars in Reggae and Dancehall—crafted the Galala-inspired song, “Mr President”, that chronicles Nigeria’s fractured political landscape.
The ever-striking chorus, “Mr President, lead us well/ If you be governor, govern us well”, is part plea, part indictment. Yet, for all of its hard-hitting social critique, what truly makes “Mr President” so striking is its balance: It’s the kind of track that gets you dancing at a party and still gets you in deep reflection.
“In The City” — Brymo (2015)
Brymo, ever the unconventional artiste, confronts the harsh realities of life in Northern Nigeria with “In The City”, the official soundtrack for Udoka Oyeka’s short film, No Good Turn (2016). He lays bare the struggles faced by those living in the shadows of terrorism.
Anchored by poignant piano chords, and his striking vocal texture, the soundscape beautifully complements the sombre themes, and makes the listener acutely aware of the pain of everyday life in these troubled regions.
“This Is Nigeria” — Falz (2018)
Falz holds absolutely nothing back in “This Is Nigeria”, a song inspired by and samples Childish Gambino’s 2018 single, “This Is America”. He shifts the lens on Nigeria, laying bare some of the most painful truths: from SARS brutality to corruption and unchecked religious fanaticism.
Falz flips Afrobeats on its head and marries a viral song with socially conscious lyricism to remind us that the genre was never just about vibes and good times.
“Dem Mama” — Timaya (2005)
Before Timaya became a purveyor of club anthems, he released “Dem Mama” in 2005. The dancehall track, a gut-wrenching account of the Odi massacre recounts the violence that ravaged the Niger Delta.
The pounding percussion and brooding bassline amplify the weight of the tragedy when he sings “Dem mama, dem kill my mama, dem kill my papa”.
“Great Nation” — Timi Dakolo (2011)
Beyond his reputation as a maestro of love ballads, Timi Dakolo is one of the few Nigerian artistes who can smoothly deliver socially conscious songs. His ever-classic anthem, “Great Nation”, is a testament to this fact. If there was ever a song that felt like it was tailor-made for a Nigeria that has finally gotten its act together, it’s this track.
Timi Dakolo, with his rich voice, manages to paint a picture of a country where everything works. And even though the Nigeria we live in isn’t quite what he sings about, for those six minutes and fifty-two seconds, with the message and orchestral delivery, Timi’s vision feels within reach.
“20 10 20” — Burna Boy (2020)
2020 stands as a dark year etched in the global consciousness, largely defined by the pandemic and the lockdowns that disrupted lives worldwide. Yet, in Nigeria, the year was marked by the #EndSARS protests that shook the four walls of this nation.
As citizens rallied for justice against police brutality, hope was ignited across the nation. However, this moment of unity took a tragic turn on the night of October 20th, 2020, when soldiers opened fire on peaceful protesters at the Lekki Toll Gate.
In the wake of this tragic event, many artistes found themselves compelled to channel their grief into music. Among them was Burna Boy, who released the song, “20 10 20” as a requiem for the people who lost their lives at the Lekki Toll Gate.
With deep and heart-wrenching lyrics, he sings “Twentieth of October 2020/ You carry army go kill many youth for Lekki/ Na so water o, water runaway my eye/ Nothing you go talk wey go justify the case of their murder”.
Burna Boy condemns the orchestrators of this atrocity when he sings “The Chief of Staff, the commander/ And the army wey carry order/ Mr. President, Mr. Governor. Godfather, gbo gbo ijoba/ All your atrocities, All of your corner corner/ Make all the dead body disturb you for your dreams”.
“Jaga Jaga” — Eedris Abdulkareem (2004)
In the early 2000s, Nigeria’s music scene underwent a groundbreaking shift that would later alter the direction of its soundscape. Traditional sounds that once captured the zeitgeist began to take a backseat, which in turn made way for a new electrifying wave of Hip-Hop-infused Naija Pop.
Right in the centre of it all was Eedris Abdulkareem: bold and unapologetic. No other song was this audacity more evident than with “Jaga Jaga”, his explosive critique of Nigeria’s socio-political landscape.
His raspy delivery, paired with the explosive beats, captures the weight of his message. There’s an intensity with which he sings the chorus, “Nigeria jaga jaga/ Everything scatter scatter/ Poor man dey suffer suffer/ Gbosa gbosa, gunshot inna di air” that genuinely captures the frustration of a nation in chaos, and desperate for change.
“Pray For Me” — Darey Art Alade (2015)
At its core, Darey Art Alade’s “Pray For Me” is a deeply personal track that speaks to the weight of individual and collective perseverance. With his signature vocals and sharp storytelling, he captures the essence of a man who dares to dream of a better life, even when the odds seem stacked against him.
Beneath the personal story of leaving home and family in search of a brighter future, there’s an undeniable resonance for countless Nigerians who face similar struggles: to leave the country in pursuit of greener pastures or stay behind to navigate the harsh realities within the country.
The Afro-Gospel harmonies from the Soweto Gospel Choir also add a powerful spiritual layer to the song that transform it beyond mere storytelling into a spiritual plea.
Abioye Damilare is a music journalist and culture writer focused on the African entertainment Industry. Reading new publications and listening to music are two of his favourite pastimes when he is not writing. Connect with him on Twitter and IG: @Dreyschronicle