In 2006, long before the world knew what Afrobeats would become, one music executive made a decision that seemed radical: leave a thriving career in the United States, working with major international artists, to return to Nigeria and bet on a raw, unformed sound that “didn’t carry any prestige.”
Nearly two decades later, that gamble has transformed into something far bigger than a personal success story. As co-founder of Livespot360 and architect behind Entertainment Week Africa’s SoundLab and Music Market initiatives, this industry veteran isn’t just riding the Afrobeats wave; he’s building the systems to ensure it doesn’t crash.
In this candid conversation, we explore what it takes to create real infrastructure in a creative industry, why “Afrodesh” might be the next genre to watch, and the uncomfortable truth that charts and streaming numbers alone can’t build. This is about the unsexy work of capacity building, deal preparation, and long-term thinking in an industry that often celebrates overnight success.
Take us back to that moment when you decided to leave the U.S. and move to Nigeria to work in music. What was that conversation like with family and friends?
I remember the moment clearly. I had spent over a decade in the U.S., was working with a major international artist, and had built a solid network, but I felt a strong pull to return home. It was 2006, before there was anything like Afrobeats. Artists like 2face, P Square, Styl Plus, Jazzman Olofin were the “charting artists”, and the music still sounded raw, but it felt full of possibility, and for reasons that I can’t explain, it was calling me. I dropped everything, and made the move.
At the time, the music business didn’t carry any prestige in Nigeria. My parents were hoping I would return with a master’s degree and go into oil and gas, banking or something with “security”. But as soon as I returned, I got the job as Head of Label at Storm, which they didn’t understand, but it gave them some comfort that I was a top management executive and had an office to report to daily, lol.
You’ve been instrumental in shaping the Afrobeats industry from its early days at Storm Records to now, co-founding Livespot360. How did launching EWA SoundLab and the Music Market feel like a culmination of that two-decade journey?
It’s been powerful to witness the movement grow from raw beginnings into a global force. In the early years, we had to build from scratch, creating our own opportunities, bootstrapping our way forward when there was no real structure, funding, or external support. There were no international label advances back then, no streaming platforms writing big cheques, and no safety nets, just belief, resilience, and hard work.
Even with all the progress we’ve seen, it became clear that building a company alone was not enough. If this creative industry is going to sustain, and if we are going to survive, we must build an ecosystem. An economy. Not just businesses, but infrastructure, pathways, and platforms for the next generation.
That realisation is what led to Entertainment Week Africa, and ultimately segments like EWA SoundLab and the Music Market, not just as events, but as systems designed to connect emerging talent with opportunity, and knowledge, and to ensure the momentum we’ve created becomes a sustainable legacy.
EWA SoundLab and the Music Market are initiatives designed to “close the gap” for African music talent. From your vantage point, what specific gaps did these programs directly address?
With EWA SoundLab, we focused on closing two major gaps.
First, access to new markets and cultural exchange. For our debut edition, we brought producers and writers from India to collaborate with creatives across Africa. Afrobeats is gaining serious traction in India, and we’re seeing artists like Rema and Libianca connect with that market, but we wanted to go deeper, creating authentic creative fusion, merging sounds and not just surface-level collaborations.
Second, talent development. SoundLab was designed as a mentorship platform. Through our open call, we selected four emerging creatives to work alongside experienced music makers, giving them real-world exposure, skills, and confidence to keep reshaping Africa’s sound.
The Music Market is about closing the gap by expanding real access to opportunity for emerging creatives and music entrepreneurs. It connects emerging writers, producers, artists, and independent rights holders directly with leading music companies, creating a platform to pitch for publishing, recording, and distribution deals, while also gaining practical insight into deal structures, rights management, and contract negotiation.
You assembled an impressive roster of producers, including Pheelz, Andre Vibez, and others, for the SoundLab residency. Walk us through the selection process—what criteria were you looking for in both the established producers and the emerging talent?
The SoundLab roster was very deliberate. We needed creatives who could stretch across genres but still bring their own flavour, so the collaboration feels organic. We paired our Indian producers and writers with a diverse Pan-African lineup. From Angola’s Salima Chica to Afrotronix from Chad and Sunkey from Cameroon, we need to mix up the lineup to make sure the sound truly travels.
For the talent from our entries, we combed through hundreds of submissions and selected the ones with a distinct sonic identity. That’s how gems like Cheemar made the cut.
Fifty song demos in one week is an ambitious target. Can you describe the creative infrastructure you built to make this possible while maintaining quality and authentic collaboration?
It was ambitious, but the real engine was strong A&R and project management. Anita Amangbo and Trick led the process brilliantly. They understand creatives, know how to manage energy, and drive the creative process. That leadership is what made productivity possible. We also had some preparation time prior to starting the camp, and had clear direction, which is important before you step into the studio.
We ran multiple sessions in parallel and kept the environment focused and collaborative. We didn’t quite hit 50; we landed just under 30, but the quality really exceeded expectations. For us, even though we set a high bar as far as output, the goal wasn’t volume; it was impact. And we believe the music we created can genuinely shift African sound on a global level. In fact, we believe we have created a new genre – Afrodesh.
The live streaming and docuseries elements were proposed to add transparency to a process that’s typically behind closed doors. What did you hope audiences, both aspiring creators and industry stakeholders, would learn from witnessing these sessions?
We didn’t live-stream in the end, which was a deliberate choice. We needed to protect the music IP and, more importantly, keep the room focused. That said, we documented the process and will keep documenting the rest of the process as we finalise the songs.
What we really want young creatives to take from SoundLab is a sense of how a professional music writing and production camp is run. The audience can get a glimpse into the structure, the discipline, the collaboration, the energy, etc. The creative environment matters as much as talent.
Right now, a lot of people feel that music is starting to sound repetitive. One of the goals of SoundLab was to challenge that by showing what happens when you mix cultures, perspectives, and working styles in one room. The message is simple: inspiration doesn’t come from comfort, it comes from exposure and experimentation. That’s what SoundLab represents.
You’ve worked with Ms. Lauryn Hill on cross-border creative projects. How did those experiences inform your approach to facilitating these kinds of intercontinental creative collaborations at SoundLab?
Ms. Lauryn Hill taught me early on that collaboration only works when there’s respect for culture, process and purpose. You don’t force fusion; you create space for it and bring your authenticity. She also taught me that self-awareness is essential to collaboration, understanding your identity, your strengths, and how to create space for others to shine.
That really shaped my approach to SoundLab. We weren’t trying to “blend sounds” for the sake of it. We were creating an environment where people could be themselves and let the music meet in the middle.
Africa’s first curated deal-making arena for music rights holders is significant. What made you realise the industry needed a “relationship-first” marketplace rather than just another conference or pitch event?
Because deals don’t happen on stages, they happen in conversations. We didn’t want another panel-heavy segment or a typical pitch event. We do have that format in our tech deal room, and it works well for that sector. For music, it’s more private and based on relationship building, one-on-one. The Music Market was designed for trust – real conversations with people who are actually empowered to make decisions.
The preparedness lab and year-long digital hub suggest this wasn’t just a one-week event. How are you thinking about long-term capacity building for these rights holders beyond the initial matchmaking?
When we designed EWA, we always said this wasn’t a one-week experience. It’s about building an ecosystem. The Preparedness Lab is part of the work we do with Labspot, which is the knowledge and skills development part of EWA, and actually has programs throughout the year. For the music market specifically, and creatives going into these conversations, the goal is simple: better prepared creators, stronger deal-making ability, and a healthier music ecosystem in the long run. We have all heard of bad deals in the music industry; a lot of that can be averted when creatives understand the basic nuances behind a lot of deals they are getting into.
Having been Label Head at Storm Records, you understand both sides of these negotiations. How did you ensure the power dynamics in these deal rooms favoured fair terms for African creators?
We were very deliberate about preparing participants before the meetings, so they weren’t walking in blind. Preparation creates confidence. As I do have some legal training, I understand how important that knowledge is. So, we made sure we had a seasoned entertainment Lawyer and an A&R on hand to guide the participants through one-on-one and group sessions to ensure the creatives were well-equipped going into these conversations.
If we’re having this conversation a year from now, what would success look like for the inaugural cohort of SoundLab and Music Market participants?
If a year from now people say, “SoundLab helped launch my career,” or “The Market got me into rooms I never had access to,” then we’ve done our job. Success is music released, deals signed, careers accelerated, new markets opened and so on. For the Soundlab project (Title: From Lagos to Mumbai), beyond numbers and streams, we want the music itself to matter. The real goal is that this body of work breathes new life into the African and global soundscape… that it shifts culture, sparks new ideas, and reminds the world why African creativity continues to lead from the front.
You began your career working with artists on tour in the United States before returning to Nigeria. How has that dual perspective, understanding both the global industry machinery and the African creative ecosystem, shaped these initiatives?
The US taught me structure. Nigeria showed me raw talent and hunger. EWA is where the two meet. I’ve seen how the global industry runs, the systems behind the scenes, the supply chains, the way every vertical connects to form a real economy, not just a music scene.
That perspective is what shapes how I see EWA. We’re not just creating events, we’re building infrastructure, platforms that help creators plug into systems that work, in a way that fits our reality but scales globally.
What’s one misconception about African music’s global trajectory that you hope initiatives like these help correct?
That it’s automatic. Momentum or hype is not infrastructure. Charts don’t build systems. If we want this wave to last and expand, we have to build behind it, properly.
For emerging African creators reading this who aspire to the kind of cross-continental impact you’ve achieved, what’s the most important shift they need to make in how they think about their work and their business?
We don’t live in a “local” world anymore; it’s global by default. Talent may open doors, but knowledge, structure, and self-awareness decide how long you stay inside. You must think beyond borders without losing your sense of self, and build systems that work for you, not just stories that travel.
Working with Dare and Deola Art-Alade to build Soul Muzik into what became Livespot360 is a really long partnership. What’s the secret to maintaining creative partnerships over decades?
Finding the right partners is everything. It sounds cliché, but partnerships are like marriages. Most times, alignment matters more than a contract. Beyond that, trust, honesty, integrity, and a willingness to evolve are non-negotiable. I find that most partnerships don’t fail because of a lack of opportunity; they fail because of ego, misaligned intent, greed, or poor self-awareness.
Outside of work, what’s something you’re genuinely terrible at that would surprise people who know you as this accomplished executive?
That’s a tough question. Maybe I’m good at everything lol. Honestly? I’m terrible at switching off or relaxing.
I don’t know whether it’s surprising as such, because it is common with entrepreneurs, but my mind is always in “build mode.” I have no off days. I have learned (the hard way) that the skill of relaxation is one I need to prioritise for overall health — as they say, “health is wealth”.
When you’re in the middle of producing a major concert or closing a complex deal, what’s your go-to stress relief? Are you a “take a walk” person, a “blast music in the car” person, or something else entirely?
As I said earlier, I have been terrible at stress relief, but these days my go-to is meditation. I’ve learned that the best way to handle an overwhelming situation is sometimes to completely switch off, step away from my phone, shut the system down, put on meditation music, find a dark room, and just tune everything out. It helps clear my head, reset my energy, and I usually come back sharper and more grounded for the work.
Lastly, what’s on your playlist right now?
A bit of everything, Afrobeats, soul, classic Hip-Hop/R&B, and some of the Afrodesh records from SoundLab that are still stuck in my head.
