Let me introduce you to the greatest Nigerian musician ever

If you ask any of these hacks walking around, “What is the Nigerian sound?” They will have nothing to tell you.

We talk about how Nigerian music is breaking barriers and pushing the limits of art and culture. But when they tell you to point out what the Nigerian sound is, a war will erupt. Different factions will unsheathe their sword, glare menacingly at each other, and draw the battle line.

“Attack!!!”

And then the fight starts. Some people will say the original Nigerian sound is from Fuji and all its vocal delivery. Others will say Highlife is the way the truth and the life.

Afrobeat generals will scream about the goodness of Fela Kuti, and why the greatest Nigerian musician ever, is the owner of Nigerian music. And although they are outnumbered, you can’t take the fight away from the annoying Hip hop head. Those Modenine and Ruggedman lovers will say Nigeria’s pulse is best felt over some sick bars and mad beats.

This war has raged forever, and peace is not in sight. Just try and combine this intellectual battle with the ‘export of Afrobeats’. Throw the conversation out. You will witness fierce fighting waged on all fronts. Arrogant connoisseurs of the sound are slugging it out on Twitter, with claps, hot takes, and clapbacks.

On Facebook, Mallam Habu is in a war of words with Holasexy Harbidanhinho (Bad Big Kid). The street corners have Kamoru and his big blunt, schooling Taofeek who is the proud owner of the next mixtape from Alaba. He believes that Obesere created Nigerian pop music.

In the beer parlors of the East, music is from Phyno, the pop culture version of Amadioha. Thunder will strike you down if you say he is not the greatest rapper to ever do this music thing. Nwanne.

This battle never ends. It will never end. You cannot come and tell the next guy that what he believes is wrong. Nobody knows it all. In fact, Nobody knows anything.

But we need to seek peace and speak with one voice. We can argue privately, but in public conversations about music in Nigeria, we need peace. That’s why I am coming out today with a solution.

I have researched for the past 5 years, travelling from state to state. I have crossed mountains, fought herdsmen, dined with militants, and danced in Yoruba parties. Somersaulted in Atilogu, and now I have a result.

Gather around people, this will shock you.

The true soundtrack of Nigeria was not made in a studio. It does not come from speakers. All the DJs and thinkers in the country have been doing it wrong. Look around you, and take in the diversity of the people you see. Not everyone can listen to what you listen, but they are bounded together by one sound.

The magnificent, ubiquitous and everlasting sound of your generator. That is the true Nigerian sound.

Are you shocked? Are you surprised? Do you think this is ridiculous?

Hear me out first, you judgmental walking pile of knowledge. See, right from the moment you opened your eyes and took your first breath in this world, the background sound in that hospital was the ‘Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr” sound that the generator makes. If you were born into wealth it will be what powers your delivery and provides the ambient sound for your mother to push.

“Push!” The midwife screamed to your mother.

“Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr” the generator responded.

That is the true version of events at your birth. The version that no one tells you about. Your parents have lied to you.

Even if you were born into a poor home, your neighbor, who has money, will still have his ‘I better pass my neighbour” generator on, as a subtle form of oppression to your poor parents, and you will hear it. Then you will cry. The cry of frustration from being born into oppression.

The generator sound follows you as you grow. It massaged your eardrums during childhood, stood right by you as you navigated puberty, and when you took your first kiss, it wasn’t Fela that was in the background. It was the generator. Your trusted generator.

You could tell the story of your life via the number of generators you and your family have had. And at every point, no matter the brand or make, it has always stayed unchanged. You have to admire consistency.

Today, the generator sound is still with you. As you read this article, close your eyes and focus. You will hear it come right at you. It is your truth, your reality, and it tells your story. The classic Nigerian sound is the generator sound.

So when next you pass by a generator, spare a thought for those machines who have consistently light up your life, with both power and sound. They are the true and thankless heroes of Nigerian music.

Your generator is a legend. Show some respect kid.