Rema Has Been Accused of Stealing Black American Culture in Oyo Oyo Video

Nine times out of ten, when a Nigerian artist drops a new promotional video, the loudest debates online are about the beat, the styling, or who’s in it. But when Rema’s Oyo Oyo video hit X(formerly Twitter), the conversation took a different turn. Instead of just celebrating the visuals, people started arguing about whether the singer was guilty of appropriating Black American street culture.

It’s a serious accusation. Dressing a certain way, using certain slang, or leaning into specific aesthetics can quickly be labelled as theft in today’s cultural climate. But before we slap the appropriation tag on everything, it’s worth asking: what does it really mean to borrow from another culture, and where do we draw the line between inspiration and disrespect?

Read Also: Pulse Weekly Rundown: Rihanna’s baby girl, other major celebrity news this week.

Cultural appropriation isn’t a made-up internet phrase. It exists. At its core, it means taking something from a culture that isn’t yours, such as hairstyles, clothing, language, and rituals, without acknowledging or respecting their origin. History shows how this can be harmful.

If you can remember back in 2018, when Kim Kardashian stepped out with Fulani braids. The backlash was instant and, frankly, justified. She didn’t just wear the braids; she renamed them Bo Derek braids and presented them as if they were a fashion discovery. That’s not inspiration. That’s erasure and rewriting history while ignoring the community that gave birth to the style.

This is why people get sensitive when they see their cultural symbols being borrowed. For groups who’ve fought to hold on to identity and visibility in a world that often erases them, seeing their markers worn without context can feel like theft.

Read Also: Interior Designer Miss Amaka Obasi attempted to defraud Rema of ₦287M, Lawyer alleges

Here’s where I disagree with the outrage. Rema, Ayra Starr, and anyone else pulling up in baggy fits, durags, grills, or using Black American slang doesn’t strike me as appropriation. It’s not erasure, it’s influence.

Nigeria has always been a cultural sponge. Just walk down any Lagos street and you’ll see young people throwing up Korean hand hearts, quoting Bollywood lines, or rocking Jamaican dancehall styles. Nobody is policing that because we all understand that culture spreads, and people take what resonates with them.

What separates appropriation from appreciation is intent and acknowledgement. When Kim Kardashian renamed Fulani braids, she denied their origin. Nigerians wearing durags or rapping in African American vernacular aren’t pretending it’s theirs. We openly acknowledge its origin. We’re not rewriting history; we’re showing admiration.

This is where it starts to feel unfair. People often lash out when others use their culture, yet they freely adopt others' cultures without resistance. Global music charts are dominated by Afrobeats, and everyone, from Drake to Justin Bieber, is cashing in on the sound.

Should Nigerians start shouting appropriation when a Canadian sings over a log drum beat? Probably not, because culture is meant to evolve and change. The same way pidgin English picked up words and dropped others, the same way Yoruba has loanwords from English, the same way every generation reuses the slang they inherit. Culture survives by evolving.

That doesn’t mean anything goes. There are boundaries, and crossing them should spark pushback. Wearing a hairstyle is one thing, but erasing its history is another. Using a slang word is fine, but claiming you invented it is dishonest. Dancing in baggy jeans doesn’t hurt anyone, but mocking or caricaturing the culture it comes from is harmful.

That’s the line Rema hasn’t crossed. His video isn’t an attempt to rename, overwrite, or disown. It’s a nod, not a theft. Nigerians know where the look comes from, and Rema’s global audience does too. Inspiration without acknowledgement is wrong; inspiration with clear cultural roots is just globalisation.

Why does the outrage still happen?

I understand why some people still argue. For African Americans, street culture isn’t just fashion. It was born out of resistance and survival in a country that often erased or criminalised them. To see others enjoy the aesthetic without living the struggle can sting. Wanting to protect what feels uniquely theirs is human.

However, shutting others out won’t work. The internet has made culture borderless. TikTok dances, slang, and music move from Atlanta to Lagos to Seoul in seconds. No one can hold culture in a box anymore. Trying to lash out at everyone who borrows is exhausting and, in 2025, almost impossible to police.

Cultural appropriation is real, but not everything counts as appropriation. Instead of picking fights over every borrowed slang term or outfit, perhaps the focus should be on preserving history. Because if we all started gatekeeping every cultural symbol, the world would be a lot duller, and Afrobeats wouldn’t be the global force it is today.