by
Abioye Damilare Samson
Perhaps one of my favourite things about Nigerian Pop music is how it ingrains certain female names in its verbiage, so much so that whenever these names are mentioned, they conjure vivid mental snapshots. These names—Caro, Funke, Angelina, and Sade—carry the weight of narratives that span love, heartbreak, admiration, and sometimes, longing. Rooted in its thematic core, the music often orbits around love, sex, and money, with these women serving as the anchors of stories that define and explore how affection and obsession intertwine in Nigerian storytelling.
Building on this lineage, the raw, gut-punch sincerity of P-Square’s Ifunanya, where love was both plea and proclamation, to Wizkid and L.A.X.’s portrayal of the elusive femme fatale in Caro, illustrates how Afropop has consistently immortalised women through its melodies. When Adekunle Gold also followed this same pattern, dedicating his official debut song to Sade, it felt like the work of a student of the game who is deeply attuned to the heart of Nigerian music culture, and you could tell he was tapping into something more profound. Sade was, in a sense, a homage to the tropes of love songs that had come before, but it had a personal twist that felt fresh and sincere.
However, it is hard to appreciate the essence of the song Sade without situating it within the evolving soundscape of Nigerian music when it was released in late 2014. A few months earlier. Wizkid had released his sophomore album, Ayo, and with it came Ojuelegba—a track that gently nudged the sound towards something more introspective. But while Ojuelegba hinted at the shift, the true transformation came in the years that followed, led by artistes like Tekno and Mr. Eazi, who embraced a more laid-back, groove-driven sound. Much of this evolution can be attributed to Juls’s minimalist touch, with ambient piano riffs and subtler melodies shaping the sonic palette. By the time Adekunle Gold unveiled Sade in December, the groundwork for this introspective and emotionally resonant tone wave had been laid, with the Adire-wearing guy bringing his signature blend of authenticity and culture to the forefront.
Unlike the story of other up-and-coming artistes, Adekunle Gold’s journey into YBNL record label wasn’t the usual tale of an artiste being plucked from obscurity; it began as a brand designer for the same label who heed the calling to pursue his musical talent. But his emergence into YBNL as a music artist didn’t follow the same obvious trajectory as the label’s typical street-pop offerings. Sade felt anomalous within the YBNL firmament. As much as the label had become synonymous with the energetic sounds of street pop and the unapologetic flair of rappers like Olamide, Chinko Ekun, and Lil Kesh, Adekunle Gold’s sound was a stark contrast. His fusion of highlife, R&B, and pop seemed worlds apart from the genre’s mainstream attention. Even the acronym “YBNL” (Yahoo Boy No Laptop) seemed more suited to the street-savvy, hustle-heavy, Afro-street-pop world that Olamide reigned over. And yet, Adekunle Gold’s presence on the label made sense in an unexpected way. It was as if the highlife-soul fusion he embodied was the missing puzzle piece that would eventually help redefine the boundaries of Afro-Pop.
This divergence in sound and style signalled a subtle shift within the label’s identity, expanding the possibilities of what YBNL—and by extension, Nigerian pop—could represent. Adekunle Gold’s place within YBNL was a statement in itself, a deliberate deviation from the label’s established street-pop blueprint. But what makes his entry even more intriguing is how it speaks to a larger trend within Nigerian pop. Because right from time, Nigerian pop music has long been a melting pot of influences, with the West consistently serving as a wellspring for inspiration. It’s a cycle where our sounds bleed in and out of global pop culture. We’ve seen this time and time again. Take The Remedies’ Shakomo, for instance. The infectious instrumental of that track is a reimagining of MC Lyte’s Keep On, Keepin’ On featuring Xscape, a 1996 release that also sampled Michael Jackson’s Liberian Girl. And Sauce Kid’s Yebariba Samboribobo, which borrowed from Remy Ma’s Conceited. That’s how intertwined Western influences are in our sound—musical conversation happening across continents, layering and transforming until it becomes something uniquely Nigerian.
And Adekunle Gold’s entry was no different. He first earned attention with his covers, making his mark by giving different classic songs a touch of local flavour. It was a strategy that worked, building his voice before creating something truly his own. But it was with Sade, his official debut track, that he truly carved his place in the spotlight. Sade is a folk-pop ballad that drew from the universal appeal of One Direction’s Story of My Life, a song that captured the intimacy of a love story in a way few others could and reshaped it into something that felt intrinsically Nigerian.
Adekunle Gold’s Sade holds a place in the heart of Nigerian pop music not only because of its captivating simplicity but because of the universal longing it encapsulates. The track opens with a bittersweet invitation into a conversation that carries the weight of unrequited love—a love that’s sincere but not fully reciprocated. From the first few notes, you can hear the tension in the Yoruba lines: “Oti pe ti’n mo ti’n ba re soro”—there’s a confession here, a desire that’s been building for too long.
The song’s Yoruba and English interplay only adds to its intimacy. It’s a reminder that love, particularly the Nigerian variety, has its own lexicon. Lines like “Omoge dakun gbo temi, Jowo ma je ki n lo commit o” (“Please don’t make me go commit”) pull us into a world where love is a form of negotiation. In these moments, Gold is reasoning with his lover, trying to make her understand the depth of his feelings. The chorus, with its repetitive hook—“Je’n gbe e lole, Mummy mi reti omo”—emphasizes the urgency of the situation, with “Mummy mi” (my mother) and “Baba mi” (my father) standing in as symbols of family, responsibility, and societal expectation.
When Sade was later included as the bonus track on the outro of his debut album Gold, it felt like a deliberate decision to anchor the project’s folk-inspired aesthetic. The Gold album, in many ways, was Adekunle Gold’s declaration of artistic intent, blending highlife, folk, and pop to build a bridge between the past and present. By placing Sade as the closing note, Adekunle Gold tied the project’s themes of love, longing, and discovery together, using the track as an emotional send-off. In retrospect, its inclusion was a way to reaffirm the song’s place as the cornerstone of his career—the moment that began his journey.
The reception of Sade in late 2014, though glowing, only scratches the surface of its enduring appeal. Over time, the song has become a fixture in Nigeria’s romantic landscape. You’re just as likely to hear it at a proposal as you are at a wedding reception, where its bittersweet sincerity draws couples in with every replay. But aside from its resonance in romantic settings, it also occupies a cherished space in Adekunle Gold’s live performances. The quiet hum of the crowd during the first verse, and the way voices swell into a collective chant by the chorus.
The ripple effects of Sade are also undeniable when you consider the trajectory of Nigerian Afro-soul artistes like Johnny Drille and Chike, who would go on to explore the emotional and introspective corners of love in ways that still felt accessible to a wider audience. If Adekunle Gold proved anything with Sade, it’s that stripped-down storytelling didn’t have to be niche or overly cerebral to resonate. It could still be folk at its core while drawing from the shimmering allure of pop.
I still remember where I was the first time Sade came on, how its tender melodies turned an ordinary moment into something unforgettable. A decade later, the song hasn’t lost its magic. It stands as a pivotal milestone that signposted Adekunle Gold’s entry into the Afropop conversation and also showcased his knack for weaving tradition into the fabric of modern sounds. It was, and remains, a track that affirmed his mastery of that delicate intersection.
Abioye Damilare Samson is a music journalist and culture writer focused on the African entertainment Industry. Reading new publications and listening to music are two of his favourite pastimes when he is not writing. Connect with him on Twitter and IG: @Dreyschronicle
