Interview: Teni Entertainer’s two paths to the top

As I waited for her call at a drinking spot, I listened to some men gossiping about Lekki's rich men and how they ‘blow’ money. One of the guys on the table was receiving a call and in the middle of the conversation he said, “Na Askamaya I dey”.

“Askamaya?” In my head I thought “oh so that’s the name of this hotel and it must have inspired Teni’s song”, but I was almost wrong. Teni would later tell me that the song verses were already recorded before the catchy “Olomoge Askamaya” line was added to it on the recommendation of pop act Ceeza Milli who was in the studio with her and the producer Shizzi. She had heard those words around and it fit well into her freestyle.

Partly the same process created 'Fake Jersey' and her biggest song yet, 'Farjin', which earned her the 2017 Headies Rookie of the Year Award.

“I freestyle then I write,” she said."

'Like Dat', the song Teni wrote for Davido, has a similar story as her other songs: An artist vibing in the studio sees a bottle of Hennessey and conjures one or two melodies around it, the rest of the song follows and a hit record is made. Her music is neither Afropop nor alternative music; she calls it “good music”.

The concept of songwriting is still unwelcome in the Nigerian music industry. In recent years, Davido has been stirring up the conversation with his admittance to hiring the services of songwriters on songs like 'Gobe', 'If' and ;Aye' (going by lore). For 'Like Dat', Teni took it for herself. Upon the release of the song, she announced that she wrote the song but if she was expecting a hero’s treatment then she would have been disappointed. Her name began to trend on social media but not because fans were saying “thank you”.

People were criticising her decision to take the song's songwriting credit. It was the truth but they just didn’t want to hear it.

“I wasn’t hurt," she says. "I get where it was coming from. They just didn’t understand how the music business works, that there are songwriters, performers and other professionals. I won’t fight anyone for not having the knowledge.”

Speaking with me, she reflected on her influences. She mentioned her parents, her sister, Niniola, and Davido. Her first meeting with Davido happened in the studio, in his LA home, where she was working with Shizzi, Davido's cousin and frequent collaborator.

“I would never forget what David said to me on that day. He said ‘Teni, if music is the one thing you can do, do it and never stop.’”

It means Davido isn’t just a motivational speaker when he receives an award at the Headies or on the BET podium. He practices what he once preached: we rise by lifting others.

Niniola, Teni’s pop singer sister, is one of her biggest musical influences. "She taught me how to sing.” Nini would ask her to sing as punishment, but in retrospect, it feels like training. Their home was their playing field. They weren’t allowed out much because they are girls, so while inside, they made singing a sport.

Their late dad was a music enthusiast who often funded music projects and according to Teni he was fond of saying, “my children would be superstars". Although his time was cut short by assassins, his words have come true. Nini is a continental music star; Teni is a fast-rising one. “God just compensated my father,” she says.

Today, Teni is signed and has a Headies award. She also has a songwriting credit on one of the continent’s biggest songs and it seems her stars are only starting to align. Her goals are bigger though. “If there is anything higher than the Grammy, that’s what I’m gunning for. I believe that one day I would sell out stadiums around the world someday, (from) making music. So if there’s anything bigger than the Grammy, that’s my aim.”

Teni recalls Wizkid in his early EME days, when he was only talent and self-belief, before his prophetically titled Superstar album, before the Drake collaboration, before the Royal Albert Hall success. For Teniola Akpata, two doors to the music upper echelon are open—that of songwriting and that of singing. Through one or both doors, she looks destined to make her way to the top.

This piece, by Oluwatobi Ibironke, first appeared in Tush Magazine