Understanding Naija Hip Hop

By Dafe Ivwurie

The word ‘swagga’ or ‘swagger’ or ‘swag’ as the case may be is perhaps the most used word in Nigerian hip hop lingo in the last one year and it is a noun that simply means “a very high degree of belief in one's own abilities” or “extreme self-confidence”. Your swag can be seen in the way you dress, the way you speak and the way you generally carry yourself. So when you hear KC Presh and Terry G say “ginger your swagga”, it only means boost your self confidence or believe in your self.

Hip hop is unarguably the most listened to genre of music in Nigeria today. That is simply because this is what Nigerian radio and television stations play, with the exception of those set up to take care of more eclectic and classic taste. The newspapers, glossy magazines and the soft sells (some of which you might prefer to call junk and I wonder why) celebrate them. They are identified by their whole get up; the bling (which Lagbaja refers to as panda (imitation) in one of his albums) the raunchy video with ill clad girls, the oversized sagging pants and shirts and of course, the general joie de vivre around them: hip hop in Nigeria and pretty much anywhere else the music enjoys patronage is all about the good life. It celebrates Moet, Hennessy and Bacardi in the company of starry eyed giggly girls.

But it is not the exuberant and flamboyant lifestyles that fascinate me, rather it is the language as you may have noticed from the intro of this piece. One thing that delights me from the trend in the genre is the code-switching; the switching from the English to Nigerian languages. Nigerian languages have become a major part of the hip hop textual content; hence you hear artiste switching between the English language and Yoruba or Igbo (the two languages that enjoy prominence) Hausa and Pidgin English. For me, two artistes epitomize the trend and they are not necessarily the most popular: they are 9ice and the rapper known as That Nigga Raw. The former with Yoruba and the latter with Igbo. They are good examples of the fact that you can understand your language very deeply, sing in it and still sound hip. The fact is arguable, though, that no other artiste brought hip hop to the fore of popular culture like Ruggedman when he released ‘ehen’, the Pidgin English rap song that ‘dissed’ those that hip hoppers call ‘wack MCs’. The lyrics were very clear and appealed to the masses. A lot of rappers took a cue from the delivery and style that finally broke all barriers. The hip hop stage opened up and we stopped seeing rappers as just some bunch of kids throwing tantrums on stage.

However, much as I love what we all refer to as Naija Hip Hop, I am a bit worried about lyrical content. When I was growing up the word choco or choko meant either chocolate or any chocolate drink. It is interesting how words take on new meaning. Can someone please tell Sean Tero that his choko is dangerous to his health? But I love that song:

pass me the choko, choko/
I gbadun the choko, choko/
I choko the choko, choko/
anywhere wey you see me make you pass me the choko.

I am sure a lot of you like the song, too, but when your daughter or son walks up to you and asks “daddy what is the meaning of choko?” please be honest to tell her or him that choko means marijuana or Kaya according to Bob Marley, Mary Jane according to Wyclef Jean or Kpoli according to Tuface Idibia or cannabis or ganja, according to my idren in Jamaica. Do you still want the choko?

I used to think that the expression or acclamation, Hallelujah, belonged in the church until I heard this song by Terry G in the club:

Everybody shout hallelujah, hallelujah
Maga don pay, hallelujah
Everybody shout hallelujah, hallelujah
Mugu don pay, hallelujah.

Our focus is on the words maga and mugu. I have known the word mugu since I was probably 6 as a word that described someone that is daft. Maga, I want to believe, is a recent coinage, a mutation of the word mugu which means the same thing. But because we know that words can be ambiguous and can have sociological connotation, it will interest you to know that a maga is someone who falls prey to a scam, especially the Nigerian type called 419. Now, scamming or gbajue as the Yoruba would refer to it has been around for a long time. However, there was a new dimension added to it when the internet came into existence and Nigeria became synonymous with this special brand of electronic scamming. Those who engage in it are referred to as ‘yahoo boys’. I do not suppose that these were the guys Olu Maintain was glorifying in his song ‘Yahozee’ which became an anthem with its own dance moves in Nigeria almost three years ago. But I suspect that only people who make money from ‘yahooing’ others would engage in the kind of ‘lau lau’ spending that Olu Maintain and Eldee sang about in ‘Yahoozee’ and ‘Big Boy’. Good music not doubt, at least it got Collin Powell dancing in London the other day.

The notion that Nigerian music can be better than the celebration of wine, women and revelry that is today is debatable. Musicians pick their materials from the prevalent situation in the country, the continent or on the global stage. Gone are the days of ‘Fire in Soweto’ and ‘Papa’s Land’ by Sony Okosuns; South Africa is free now. Gone are the days of ‘International Thief Thief’ and Unknown Soldiers by Fela; Nigeria is democratic state. Interestingly, while Fela Anikulapo-Kuti and Sony Okosuns were busy sharpening their lyrical dexterity against Apartheid regime in South Africa and Corruption in Nigeria, some Nigerian musicians were busy feeding the party life. Musicians are free to choose their materials and sing about anything under the sun, what I worry about is do they worry about posterity?

Popular music in whatever form – afrobeat, reggae, fuji, juju, hip hop to name a few - belongs to the street and from the street it must derive its language if it must stay relevant to its patrons. As classic as ‘Sexual Healing’ by Marvin Gaye may sounds, I think it is a bit too heavy for the ears and so does ‘I wanna sex you up’ by Colour Me Bad and the expression ‘je ka sere omo’ or ‘ka gbetan le tan’.

Some contemporary Nigerian artistes are actually getting innovative; ever heard the expression minimini wanawana or shokishombolo? They actually mean the same thing that the previous words conjure in your mind.