There’s a book about Burna Boy coming out. I know because I’m writing it. I didn’t think I would, at least not yet. But in the aftermath of his widely acclaimed show at Madison Square Garden, I realized again that we’re living in incredible times. I’m old enough to remember the when American hip-hop group Naughty by Nature came to Nigeria, and then Wyclef and then the infamous 50 Cent concert that was ultimately botched. I remember vividly the sense of pride that I felt when these international superstars showed up in MY country- warts, danfo and all. I have known of the Madison Square Garden all my life. I was already in university when Jay Z sold out the arena in 2003 and then rapped about it on Encore. If someone had told me back then that while I’m still in my 30s, a Nigerian entertainer would sell out the Madison Square Garden, singing in pidgin and Yoruba and Nigerian English, I would have chuckled it off. But here we are, and it’s a huge fucking deal no matter how you dice it.
Like I said when I wrote History Made two years ago, it’s imperative that we document these things are they happen because we live in extraordinary times when spectacular things happen faster than we can dream them up. Burna Boy in particular has a remarkable story: never mind that his grandfather was Fela’s associate, his own life was on another trajectory; one in which it was more likely he’d see the insides of a jail cell than the blue and gold interior of the United Nations assembly hall. And yet, here we all are.
Perhaps at some point, one of us will write a comprehensive story or an all-encompassing documentary about the man himself. As the world embraces Nigerian music, it is important that we are the ones who curate and deliver it. When the GQ staff writer who profiled Wizkid last September said “It was also around this time [when he collaborated with Drake on One Dance] that Wizkid's fans stopped referring to him as Little Prince, and instead started calling him Starboy,” it wasn’t only incorrect, it was a grievous distortion of a relatively young story. Clearly, there was no one from the Nigerian music culture when that piece was being written and/or edited.
So I’m writing a book about Burna Boy. It’s only six chapters long and focuses on his stagecraft through the years. Anyone who has seen him perform will agree that he’s at his happiest and freest when he’s on stage. That translates to the artistry of it all, and in this book, I take a look at the whys and hows and attempt a thread of its evolution. It’s also an e-book that you can read easily on your mobile devices. Because it’s not in print, it’s also not going to take a lot of time at all. By the way, the title is inspired by this line by Abisola Alawode which is, in turn, a transliteration of a line on Yaba Buluku which features, of course, Burna Boy. I’m undecided right now if to leave it as Bisola’s tweet or the use original Yoruba chant. We’ll see.
The next time you hear from me, I’ll be sharing with you the chapter list, cover art and how to get it. I’m excited myself, and I hope you enjoy reading it.
I’m writing a book about Burna Boy. Spread the word.
waiting....
... this is gonna be epic!