Solomon Guzali (Sulonee) | From Fela to Wizkid | Nonfiction
The 1970s and 1980 reflected neocolonialism as a state of pseudo-independence. It described a situation where a nation appears autonomous, speaks the language of self-rule and freedom, but whose key decisions are still controlled or heavily constrained by an external power. In Nigeria, Multinational corporations, especially in the oil sector; controlled extraction, pricing, and profit flow. These operations rarely served local needs, and the elites were instrumentalized as weapons against their own people for selfish interests. This pattern ran through the years after independence, as military regimes became convenient intermediaries from the coups of the mid-1960s onward.
The roots of this tree trace back to colonization and slavery. Femi Kuti, the brother of Fela Anikulapo Kuti, makes this clearer by emphasizing the abject effects colonization has had on Africans in the documentary Wizkid: Long Live Lagos. He begins with a strand of questions and a few answers:
What did slavery do? Slavery took our identity. What did colonization do? Colonization replaced it. We want to impress Europe. We want to impress America. But what about our own impression of ourselves? How many of us dream in our language? How many of us think in our language? How many of us implement our culture in our daily lives? That is the effect of colonization.
The Black man, however, in his own way, weaponized many strategies to voice his agony and sing—like the Caged Bird of Angelou—the inexplicable fact that he is also human: not to be a slave to another human, but to be dignified in turn and left to enjoy freedom as a right. Poetry, stories, theatre and pamphleteering, were some identified strategies, but music proved significantly fierce and spectacular. At one point in history, it became a sharp weapon that stood against colonialism and neocolonialism, which is still fresh today. The likes of Bob Marley, Lucky Dube, and Fela Anikulapo Kuti were pioneer figures who dared to raise this flag.
Fela Anikulapo Kuti emerged in the Nigerian society. Having understood this phenomenon and emboldened by the structures he built, described it as ‘colonial mentality.’ In a strategic effort to fight and resist neocolonialism, he birth a music genre and named it Afrobeat, a fusion of highlife, jazz, funk, Yoruba rhythms, and militant politics. Characterized by long songs, hypnotic grooves, and lyrics that named names. Afrobeat was designed for confrontation: to fight and uncover the false freedom offered as independence. Songs like Zombie, International Thief Thief (ITT), Coffin for Head of State, Water No Get Enemy, Beast Of No Nation and Gentleman amongst others stood out as sharp needles that penetrated the false ruling system. Fela Anikulapo Kuti created a commune he named Kalakuta Republic. Kalakuta was an independent state inside Nigeria—a space where he rejected colonial morality, state authority, and Western-imposed norms. Musicians lived there. Dancers lived there. Political thought lived there. It was both home and headquarters; later invaded and burnt down by the Nigerian Military in 1977. Fela Anikulapo Kuti later died on August 2, 1997, but Afrobeat did not die with him. He left behind a trademark and a legacy, alongside the pressing question of who would carry on what he had begun. But the truth still hurts: instead of continuity, the movement became fractured, softened, and diversified.
From the late 1990s into the 2000s, the gateway of the Afrobeat revolution opened. Nigerian pop musicians began to blend the local rhythms with hip-hop, R&B, dancehall, and electronic production. This shift dimmed the overt political fire while appealing to a vast African audience, and the genre evolved under a different name—Afrobeats, with an ‘s.’ According to the feature, Seni Saraki, CEO and Editor-in-chief of Native Magazine, highlights this shift. He explains that ‘when Wizkid and others began to gain popularity, the UK created the term Afrobeats as a catch-all genre, essentially meaning Nigerian pop music’.
By 2010, artists like Wizkid, D’banj, Davido, Burna Boy, Tiwa Savage, and more recent figures like Rema, Tems, and Ayra Starr among others carried Afrobeats onto the global stage. The music evolved into an easy-rich spirit with shorter, hook-driven songs—romance-forward and club-ready. Less protest, more pleasure. Less Kalakuta, more Coachella. Wizkid, the central case study of the visual narrative, emerges as one of the most perennial figures of this new era. He tends to replicate Fela Anikulapo Kuti’s intentions toward colonialism and neocolonialism on a modern global stage, but without the punchy, confrontational energy. In the movie, Seni Saraki makes clear that, ‘Wizkid does not like to over-politicize his music’. That statement establishes a defining feature of his artistry.
In the insighting film, Wizkid expresses deep love for his culture. He states that:
It’s very important to educate the world about our culture. I try as much as possible to put that out there in the world. I represent a culture that is very beautiful.
Though not as confronting as Fela Anikulapo Kuti’s Afrobeat system, the cinematic work frames Wizkid as a forerunner of Afrobeats who softly fights the same battle—attempting to wash away the mentality that Africa is of low regard, but through gentler means.
His performances in 2023 at Tottenham Stadium in London stand as both a representation and celebration of Nigerian culture in a Western space. It function as ‘a form of rebellion, a declaration of presence—we are here, we are taking up space,’ Seni Saraki explains. Wizkid become a symbol in that space, carrying the origin, the rhythm, the soul and salt of Nigerian culture into the Western world. In the screening, a fan who identifies by Wizkid’s nickname, ‘Starboy,’ reflects this sentiment, arguing that ‘for big Wiz, the more successful he becomes in his career, the more views we get as Africans’.
In 2020, Wizkid also step beyond celebration into direct political expression. The motion pictures explores this when he publicly support the #EndSARS protests against police brutality, representing Nigerian youth. He shouts into a megaphone:
My people, I want this message to go out to every Nigerian youth. Don’t let anyone tell you, you don’t have a voice. You all have a voice, and don’t be scared to speak up.
Here, anti-neocolonial feeling re-emerges, confronting oppression sustained by poorly structured systems of governance.
Through the lineage from Fela Anikulapo Kuti to Wizkid, Afrobeat and Afrobeats reveal a subtle but enduring continuity. The resistance did not disappear; it evolved, from confrontation to cultural occupation, from naming names to taking space. In this way, the genre continues to address and resist colonialism and neocolonialism, even today.
Solomon Guzali (Sulonee) is a writer, performing poet, and arts enthusiast from Raba, North-Central Nigeria. He is a member of Hilltop Creative Arts Foundation, Minna, Niger State. His works have appeared in the Kontagora LGA Teen Authorship Series (2020), Regenerative African Library (2024), ONESIN Literary Magazine, and other literary platforms. His growing recognition in performance poetry includes winning the EYAI World Poetry Day Poetry Performance Competition (2026), the Bala Miller Prize for Performance Poetry, April Edition (2026), and the Beyond the Silence Spoken Word Contest at Poetry Meetup 2.0, BIDA Arts Festivals (2026). He can be reached on Instagram: @solomon.guzali | Facebook: @Solomon Guzali | TikTok: @iamthegiftofgod1| Poetree: @solomonguzali