Kalakuta is no longer a physical republic, but its ghost still walks among us.
It appears whenever music stops being entertainment and becomes interrogation.
Whenever rhythm refuses to soothe pain and instead asks why the pain exists.
Whenever an artist chooses discomfort over applause.
The recent friction between Wizkid and Seun Kuti is not a personal feud. It is a cultural fault line, a visible crack between two philosophies of music, power, and responsibility.
When Music Was a Threat
In the era of Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, music was not background noise. It was a political event. Songs were not released for charts; they were released like statements. Lyrics named names. Beats carried anger. Performances summoned courage.
Kalakuta was feared because it produced consciousness, not just sound.
Leaders listened,not because they loved the music, but because they feared what it could awaken.
Music educated the masses on:
oppression
- It taught people not only how to feel, but how to think.
The Age of Comfort and Escape
Fast forward to today. Nigerian music dominates global stages. Awards are won. Stadiums are filled. The country exports joy even as it imports hardship.
Wizkid, like many contemporary superstars, represents this era: success within the system, mastery of pleasure, the soundtrack of escape. His music does not pretend to be revolutionary, it offers relief, identity, and global belonging.
There is nothing inherently wrong with that.
But the danger begins when escape replaces engagement, when comfort becomes culture’s highest goal, and when success is detached from social responsibility.
Seun Kuti and the Burden of Inheritance
Seun Kuti did not choose Kalakuta; Kalakuta chose him. He inherited not just a band, but a burden, the obligation to speak when silence is profitable.
His music continues the Fela tradition:
- confrontational
- uncomfortable
- openly political
Seun does not seek mass approval. He seeks continuity of resistance. In doing so, he reminds society of a question many would rather forget:
What is the role of culture when the people are suffering?
A Divide Bigger Than Two Men
The Wizkid–Seun Kuti divide mirrors a larger societal split.
On one side:
- a generation trained to survive
- to hustle, escape, and numb pain
- to chase visibility without structure
On the other:
- a shrinking tradition of ideological struggle
- long-term thinking
- power literacy and organization
This divide explains why older politicians still build coalitions, while many young people burn out early, frustrated, directionless, and disconnected from power’s mechanics.
Lessons from Beyond Nigeria
In Uganda, Bobi Wine transformed music into movement. He didn’t just sing against oppression; he positioned himself against it. Power responded with intimidation because power only fears organized challenge, not complaint.
The lesson is clear:
- Awareness without structure entertains.
- Resistance with structure threatens.
The Ghost That Refuses to Rest
Kalakuta’s ghost lingers because the conditions that birthed it remain.
Corruption persists. Inequality deepens. Youth frustration grows.
The question is no longer whether we have talented artists, we do.
The question is whether culture will once again dare to mentor, mobilize, and mold leadership, or remain a beautifully produced distraction.
Final Thought
A generation that only dances through hardship will survive it.
A generation that understands power will outlive it.
Kalakuta was never just a place.
It was an idea.
And ideas, once awakened, never truly die.
Abioye Tosin Lawrence is the publisher of OrionTimes Online Newspaper and the author of Voices From the Fire: My Journey Through a Hollow Empire. He is currently working on a new book, From Aluta to Aso Rock: The Myth of Struggle in Nigerian Politics.
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