• What will Detty December look like in this great T-Pain year? On Thursday, December 6, 2024, the 5th edition of the concert Fuji: A Opera, themed “Fuji Vibrations 2024” offered an answer.

    Since its launch in 2020, the free Fuji music festival has remained dedicated to celebrating and bringing Fuji musicians closer to aficionados of the genre, music lovers, and fun seekers across generations, genders, and geography. What started as a one-off past-time shindig during the pandemic has metamorphosed into a running show that’s now in its fifth edition.

    This year, Fuji: A Opera’s ambitions expanded. Together with the Fuji Music Association of Nigeria (FUMAN), it flourished with sponsorship from brands like Imperial Black, Goldberg and UAC Foods Nigeria, partnerships with White Space Lagos, Schweppes Nigeria, the burgeoning women-wear champ Meji Meji, and UB Fabrics—which also clothed the VIPs in a sky-blue print covered with “FUJI.” The “and co” attire, adorned by only the most avid Fuji fans and the one percenters able to buy that card, was giving “family and friends of Fuji Opera.” Barbecue sellers set up shop, grilling meat by an open bar at the back. Cups of beer went ‘round, as did plates of Ofada, peppersoup (in the VIP section, though they ignored the media partners). Puffs from all kinds of smoke— cigars, cigarettes, Canadian loud enveloped the arena.

    Fuji: A Opera served a seasoned line-up of artists. DJ Kulet took over the stage a dozen times with her mix of Fuji sounds. Iyalode Music warmed up the crowd with her “alujo” dance music, before Alhaji Sikiru Lemon boosted the energy with his high-morale Fuji. Fatimo Ajoke Cinderella, who went viral for her song Allahu Motide, was the performer who didn’t miss a beat. She suddenly burst on stage introducing herself and then playing on the event name with “Opera Mini” before moving into a vigorous dance, reviving deeply anti-women ideas that also showed up in the welcome address by SK Sensation, the president of FUMAN.

    Rather than critique the systems that inhabit the women who have been for years victims of the sex trade, Ajoke Cinarella seized the opportunity to promote an old tired trope about the activities of women in sex work. “Pátá ashéwó ò kín n’ísin mi / Bó sé n bo, ló n wò, ló n bo, ló n wò,” she sang.

    SK Sensation started his speech by saying, in Yorùbá, “Ekáálé o (meaning ’Good evening’) to the baba (fathers), the alejo (guests), the ololufe (fans).” He ignored all the women at an event whose anchor is women — women performing on stage, women serving drinks, women in the audience; seated, standing, dancing.

    Singer Atawewe towed the same line, recognising only the men in the house even as he bragged that his detractors would never defeat him unless they weren’t “born out of a woman.” 

    Remi Aluko’s quirky, street-smart renditions of Afrobeats and gospel hits combined with aggressive, freestyle dance moves scored a warm moment with the audience. He did his Fuji version of Rema’s “OZEBA” and addressed the ongoing discord in the Fuji music world. He urged the elders to behave elderly and the youngins to show respect.

    The music jerked fast, but Lokoso Ajani, SK Sensation, and Aare Shina “Scorpido” Akanni, who Malaika and some other younger Fuji artists went to pay their respect to on stage, brought mid-tempo and veteran grooves that kept the agile and older folks in regulated moves. But that wasn’t for long. 59-year-old Abass Oberese, adorned in a grey-and-black coloured durag, vintage shirt, black jeans and white sneakers, stepped into the luminaire. He performed his hits “Asakasa” and “Mr. Teacher,” while the female dancers threw their behinds to the drum beats and Obesere’s hand directions—a nostalgic moment for those who grew up listening to his music in the early 2000s. Like the patron of Fuji music that he is, Wasiu Ayinde, AKA K1 De Ultimate, performed popular hits like “Ade Ori Okin” to close out the event. 

    But the acts that grabbed the crowd most were Malaika and Saheed Osupa, two beloved Fuji veterans who took the stage at the tail end of a lineup, an ensemble that included other musicians across the Fuji scene. Though it was almost midnight and a new day was knocking at Muri Okunola Park in Victoria Island when Malaika opened his set, his eclectic performance—which turned into a celebratory sing-along in front of hundreds of fans—kept fans awake, agile, and gyrating. He made the crowd throw their white handkerchiefs in the air with his “Aro Eyo” chant performance, a nod to Lagos’ Eyo cultural heritage.

    Saheed Osupa, on the other hand, started his set in the early hours of Friday and inflamed the stage with a rendition of his song, “Itanna Ogo”, off his “Fuji Icon” album. Then, he segued into an unreleased song in reverence to his home city, Ibadan, and to Dr. Sikiru Ayinde Barrister, the originator of Fuji music. Osupa reckoned that Barrister may be gone, but Fuji music is alive and thriving. In the same breath, Osupa emphasised Fuji as his first choice of music and honoured and deified Barrister. “Ósì wà l’existence, to bá ti n’ígbàgbó / Á gbé e wò lójijì tobá gbà fún Barry / Torípé ìmìsí Àyìndé Ògún òòkú o, musically lótún mín,” he sang, as he strutted the platform in a confident pace. Every second of a pause gave the audience the chance to rave in excitement and cheers.

    From start to finish, Fuji: A Opera prioritised the celebration of Fuji music, culture and artists, keeping alive the collective spirit it was designed to preserve. “We are doing this to get Fuji to make more statements in the world of music,” K1 De Ultimate said while presenting an award to the FUMAN president at the event. The vibe in the crowd was communal—old friends were reunited, and new friendships were made.

    In Case You Missed It, We Wrote About the 10 Greatest Fuji Music Albums of All Time

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  • Away from the bubbly Afrobeats scene, the Fuji music world has been buzzing with fights and debates. For over a month, die-hard fans of Fuji music have gathered under canopies, lined up streets and made merry in various hotels in Ibadan to witness Fuji OGs Taiye Currency and Tiri Leather throw jabs at each other with their live band. The situation escalated into a ‘Verzuz’ of Fuji artists: Saheed Osupa vs. Pasuma; Saheed vs. K1 on X (FKA Twitter).

    The back-and-forth about the most impactful, lyrical and best-selling Fuji act soon became my cue to highlight the greatest albums the genre has produced over the years.

    From the iconic harmonies to the infectious beats, these Fuji albums (in no particular order) have revolutionised the genre, soundtracked lives, shaped culture, and made bodies shake.

    Aiye! — Sikiru Ayinde Barrister

    Barrister’s music is the type to dance to and also pick up lessons from. On his album Aiye! (1980), he sings about the Disneyworld in Orlando which received an increase in African tourists. That song earned him the “Keys to the State of Florida.”

    Beyond an American experience, this album’s message gets deeper. It’s laced with proverbs, metaphors and witty sayings about life, trust and human behaviours. On the Side B, Apala Fuji System Medley he addresses and refutes the allegations against him as a conspirator in the death of Apala singer, Ayinla Omowura, and commiserate with his family and loved ones. For context, Barrister had a fallout with Ayinla in his lifetime and Kollington (who Barrister also had an issue with) was always closer to Ayinla.

    In the album, Barrister laid curses on whoever had a hand in Ayinla’s death. That was his way of saying his hand was as clean as a white glove. He had to do it — Ayinla had a large following that could take Barry’s silence for complicity and cause him physical harm. It’s no wonder the album’s title translates to “Life” and came out the same year (1980) Ayinla tragically passed away. This album is the Bible for Fuji artists.

    Fuji Garbage — Sikiru Ayinde Barrister

    On this 1988 album, innovation is at its peak. In its opening, one could have easily mistaken it for a Fela Kuti song intro because of its chiming chords and jazzy feel. But Barry fuses other sounds with Fuji to leave strong impressions that he’s in-tune with the times, versatile, capable and on a plane higher than his peers. Fuji Garbage was so successful that he did several versions of it, and that marked a tonal shift in his music at the time. With the arrival of Fuji Garbage, Juju music was pushed to the backseat.

    You may be wondering, why Fuji Garbage? This means that as the biggest in the Fuji world, he’s not immune to insults and ridicule that come with success. But there was also a necessary need to distinguish himself.

    Ijo Yoyo — Kollington Ayinde

    Fuji music with up-tempo, fun dance moves, and quests for ladies are the unmistakable descriptors of Kollington Ayinde’s Ijo Yoyo (1989). Ijo Yoyo registered a new dance and an untamed party ambience in Fuji for Gen X in South-West Nigeria. Kollington’s Ijo Yoyo was the culmination of his late 80s-early 90s run when he held his own, not only against Barrister, but also King Sunny Ade and Sir Shina Peters.

    His public service message for the census also won him some accolades from the Ibrahim Babangida government. Iyo Yoyo is Kollington’s magnum opus. It solidified his claim as “Professor Master”. Also, the impact of this album can be traced to younger Fuji acts like Obesere whose “Asakasa” style is a legacy of Kollington.

    Mr Johnson Play For Me — Adewale Ayuba

    The Mr Johnson Play For Me album (1992) meshes folk, country and African rhythms with the themes of Fuji pride and a good time. Here comes the suit-wearing, corporate-swagged Fuji vocalist and class-act who calls his brand of music “Bonsue”. Mr Johnson Play For Me was Ayuba’s coming-of-age album, after being seen more like an “outsider”. He was young and educated. His two preceding albums were well received and he toured America, only for it to be reported that he was arrested for drugs. Not true.

    Ayuba warns  people to stop calling him “The rave of the moment,” in this album. He states that Michael Jackson sang since he was a youngin till the moment he began his Fuji music, yet no one restricted MJ to a particular moment or era. Ayuba states that he is “current forever.” If you care to know how that argument has stacked up over the years, Ayuba still has the older and younger generations in his listening and streams dashboard.

    Reality — Sikiru Ayinde Barrister

    Reality (2004) starts on a light braggadocious note. Sikiri Ayinde sings, “If you wanna see Barry Wonder, you go see wonder.” Then he dives into the narratives of jealousy, envy and enemies that act like friends. He sings about ordinated destiny, que sera sera, his bus conductor days at Obalende and other struggles. Barrister croons about his breakthrough, ridicules the wicked eyes and flexes his will to enjoy his life to the fullest and without a bother.

    This album didn’t leave out entitled people — the kind who only take, take and benefit from others, and think it’s their right. Barrister makes it clear that people who only stay in times of prosperity and leave during adversity usually end up painting their benefactors badly. This is another Barrister classic album, serving listeners life lessons and mastery of language. It was the penultimate album before he died, and it was somewhat foreboding.

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    The Ultimate — Wasiu Ayinde Marshal

    The Ultimate (1993), is the self-acclaimed title and compliment that staples the status of Wasiu Ayinde, AKA K1 De Ultimate or KWAM1, as a king of Fuji music. It’s an apt body of work because K1 was crowned the King of Fuji (Oluaye of Fuji Music) after the album dropped, the same year at NTA Ibadan. The music is fast-paced, jiggy to wiggle to and easy to sing along.

    K1 had been known as Barrister’s protege in the preceding ten years, even long after he had left the man. On The Ultimate, he lightly embraced the “yuppie” approach to the music, and had dropped the “Barrister” style he used for a few earlier albums.

    Consolidation — Wasiu Ayinde Marshal

    In 1995, K1 threw secular music listeners into a frenzy with the love song, Show Colour Medley (the Side A) off his Consolidation album. “Show colour” means to show one’s true nature. The Side B of the album is Power to the People Medley. In its first few minutes, he mildly talks to the powers that be, then he adjusts his Fuji crown and assumes authority. Consolidation was the first time he would announce himself as “King”, much to the annoyance of all concerns. The album caused beef with his peers and his seniors alike. He doubled down on Legacy, the next album, as if to say he’d done it all and was paving the way for others after him.

    K1 also fondly reminisces about the day he was crowned King of Fuji (Oluaye Fuji Music) in 1993. He spends the rest of this album eulogising the deceased and hailing his seniors and folks in high places. Not only have the phrases, slangs, and one-liners that K1 placed in this album impacted younger generations, but they show that the coolness and spontaneity of the older generation are necessary ingredients for a catchy recipe.

    Orobokibo — Pasuma

    Thirty years ago, Pasuma called himself the Crown Prince of Fuji on his life-changing Orobokibo album. It was so huge that it carved a new niché that went mainstream and became a blueprint for contemporary Fuji artists. As a Mushin-bred guy with street orientation and credibility, he had street slangs and phrases in abundance, and he adorned them in the music. The Orobokibo era is when Hip-Hop began to be globally impactful, from music to fashion and lifestyle. It’s not hard to tell why most of Pasuma’s style and branding leaned heavily on Hip-Hop culture. One look at his fashion, and one could tell that he wasn’t going to be traditional. He was influenced by Hip-Hop, and that choice continues to date.

    The success of Orobokibo attracted Afro-Hip-Hop guys like The Remedies to Pasuma who he ended up making Jealousy with. This further solidified Pasuma’s relevance in Nigerian pop culture. Due to Pasuma, the word “Orobo” which he credits to one of his backup singers became an evergreen term in the Nigerian vocabulary. In the Orobokibo year, Pasuma won Best Fuji Artiste at the 1995 edition of Fame Music Awards (FMA). 

    Overthrow — Obesere

    Obesere, AKA Omorapala, has been termed controversial all his career. He provoked reactions with his lyrics and dancers. He aimed for the crown too, and on Overthrow, he makes the claim that he has taken over. One of the most successful albums in his career.

    Mr Music — Saheed Osupa

    At the peak of his career, Saheed Osupa released Mr Music in 2008 — a title born out of his perceived victory in the feud with fellow musicians like Pasuma and Wasiu Ayinde Marshall. This album became the first-ever 4-in-1 music project — packed with wisdom from his ancestors, parables, shots and punchlines aimed at his detractors.
    Mr Music marks his ascension to his self-acclaimed King of Music title. If you look around the Fuji world today for a musician with outstanding lyrical ability and smooth use of figurative expressions, Saheed Osupa should be number one.

    Read Our Guide to Becoming a Fuji Music Legend

  • Fuji music is a Nigerian staple. Some Nigerian pop stars such as Olamide, Asake and Seyi Vibez make music that’s a hybrid of afrobeats, hip-hop and fuji, but the budding artistes don’t have to dilute Fuji with disco to become legends. You can focus on just Fuji music. This is the guide you need.

    Have a unique name

    You can’t go wrong with something strong and catchy as a stage name in Fuji music. Here’s an easy formula: use your nickname or merge it with your first name. E.g. Saheed Osupa, Taiye Currency Ayinde Barrister and Ayinde Kollington. I hope your name is not Wasiu or Ayinde sha, before people call you an impersonator.

    Mention it every minute

    You need to constantly drop your full government and nickname while singing. If you’re not doing that, you’re not ready for the world to know your name.

    Have street credibility

    If you haven’t served some time in the streets, your Fuji musician status is “learner.” The fastest and surest way is either to get four-year experience as a NURTW member or work as a freelance bus conductor. 

    Form your band

    Assemble the best drummers, backup vocalists, keyboardist and a hypeman with a baritone. Then get an official fabric seller who’ll constantly supply the band the best ankara and lace fabrics. Alternatively, the uniform can be polo shirts and facecaps with the band name printed on. Everyone should look flyer than Barrister and boys in 1989.

    Learn praise-singing

    Scam people into spraying you all their money with your high praises. If you can make people’s heads swell with your music, it’ll take you far and they’ll call you to the next ceremony in your hood. You better learn it so you can secure the Fuji bag.

    Do you know any proverbs?

    Whether you’re motivating, making social commentary or throwing words like stones, you must be clever with your figures of speech and best not miss.

    Have a photographic memory

    Imagine the embarrassment if you forget the name of the person who’s spraying you money halfway through your set? All it takes is one fuck up, and your whole reputation is out the window.

    Add your abroad experiences to the music

    How else do we know you’re spreading the gospel of fuji across the globe? You need to travel and then come back to give us your London Experience Vol. 1 – 5 or Amsterdam Tour part one and two, to certify your legend status.

    READ: The Zikoko Guide: Nigerian Music Industry 101