Fela Kuti's 'Yellow Fever' is one of my favourite songs of all time. It's not his most popular, nor is it his most political, but it carries a core social message nonetheless, as was often his style—whether through comedic call-and-response or masterful storytelling.
I came across Fela's discography almost a decade ago and found great relief in his music—especially as a teenager also questioning authority. [1] Despite his various creative successes, Fela's activism remains central to his legacy. He was a symbol of sociopolitical resistance in a country where it was uncommon, and at a time when it was—and still is—desperately needed.
I recognise music is generally less overtly political these days simply as it's become more commercial. In our case, many Nigerian artists are now signed to global record labels, and therefore "have a lot to lose". Yet, it's worth remembering Fela attained international success through his political activism. After all, he famously performed 'Teacher Don’t Teach Me Nonsense' at the Glastonbury Festival in 1984 in an era before digital streaming.
Our songs once challenged government structures, criticised police brutality, and cautioned against enduring colonial legacies. [2] Current lyricisms stand in contrast—centred on splendour, pageantry, and sensuality. On the basis that Afrobeats typically rewards conformity and not individuality, of course most artists adhere to the status quo. The people yearn for escapism—likely borne from political and existential fatigue—thus the artists deliver without questioning. However, the cognitive dissonance is only helpful to a point, and can only go on for so long. The times may have changed, but the themes which Fela addressed remain highly relevant—including our prolonged desire for escapism in "Shuffering and Shmiling".
Perhaps the answer isn't for every artist to become the next Fela—such expectations would be as limiting as they are naive. Rather, it's recognising that music has always been a mirror to society, and our current reflection reveals as much about our collective state as Fela's once did about his. The question remains whether contemporary artists will eventually find their own ways to hold up that mirror with the same unflinching honesty, or whether the escapism will continue to serve as both our comfort, and ultimately, our cage.
[1] I likely listened to the "Zombie" album for a month straight. I still know the lyrics to many of the songs.
[2] Not to be confused with the contemporary Afrobeats.