On ‘Ekelebe,’ Skanm Explores the Price of Love

Sometime afterwards, we might even find a way to transport ourselves through time just the same way we discovered a way to reach the moon. But one thing is for certain: we'll never find a cure for love, the Nigerian type of love. A love typified by gendered roles where men chase women and hypergamy is the order of the day. Money rules relationships over here, determining who gets to fall in love with who.

This ideology is the guiding force behind singer Skanm's single Ekelebe. ‘Ekelebe’ is an Igbo word for ‘Police’ and has been adapted into pop culture lingo, often to refer to troublesome forces. Over groovy midtempo Afropop production, the singer, who debuted last year with his single ABOUT (What Are You Talking About), narrates from the perspective of a heartbroken lover whose love interest tells him that making more money is the only way she can follow him. In turn, he does get the money; so much of it, in fact, that it's blinding (“Money too bright, I go need glass”).

His newfound wealth soon gives way to arrogance. He looks down on a friend who invites him over, emphasising that only money can make him show up. He shames fellow guys who have attained a “First Class” at the university, but who do not earn enough to fly in First Class cabins.

Additionally, skanm sings about money as a source of peace of mind, reminiscent of Rema's 2020 single, Peace of Mind, although money was hardly the central occupation in the Mavins singer's record. Eventually, his love interest gives in. Turns out that all that was needed to bring out his true, avaricious nature was a Mona Lisa-esque baddie that's every bit an Ekelebe as the singer.

Musically, ‘Ekelebe’ settles into a relaxed midtempo groove with Minimal percussion, Maximal saxophones and a dash of log drums for that Amapiano feel. Shakers, as well. But it's the saxophones that shine the most. Right from the beginning, where its melancholic notes accompany Skanm's nasal baritone, to the final moments where they meet the underlying bass lines, Ekelebe’s sax calls you to dance slowly. It's luxurious, in the lineage of P2J.

Oddly comforting, too, even if you disagree with the messaging of this newly rich guy throwing money at everything. Music for evening bus rides back home where there's just one stop left. Certainly not music for the club, even though it's in tandem with the lifestyle of ballers and babes Dorime-ing the night away in Friday night VIP sections.

We don't know what happens to our lover boy or his Mona Lisa in the end. Quite frankly, we don't need to know. Everything on there suggests that he is right where he wants to be and that no arrests were made in the course of this surrender. A line like “I dey try to maintain so I get the money” tells you more about what's bound to happen in the long run. He will either run out of money or she finds someone with even more money. But even then, no one cares. Just make the money rain.

by John Eriomola