The ‘Abambian King’ may have spent decades away from home seeking broader horizons, but his sonic kingdom, built on Afro-Mystic Soul and sustained by digital connection, awaits his full return as a living legend.
Mike Okri: Revisiting the Afro-Mystic Art of Timeless Music
When you think of the epoch-shaping voices that defined Nigeria’s musical renaissance of the late 1980s, the era presented a broad spectrum of musical talents and pioneers. From King Sunny Ade’s Juju mastery and Ras Kimono’s Roots Reggae to Onyeka Onwenu’s soulful nationalism, they channeled something transcendent that connected deeply across generations. Among those legendary stars, however, you’ll find a most unlikely contender in the form of a young, versatile Highlife and Pop musician whose angelic falsetto and mystical songcraft became a rallying cry of wisdom that never once wavered in its pursuit of spiritual enlightenment and pure musical delight.
That voice, of course, belongs to Michael Obukohwo Okri, popularly known as Mike Okri, the sage-like figure who emerged from the culturally rich Bendel region — now Delta State — as part of a generation that fused Western influences with African authenticity. This unassuming artiste introduced himself to the masses with classics like “Wisdom” and the syncopated pop groove “Omoge,” setting the stage for generations of Afrobeats artistes to march proudly behind him. At the heart of his unique sound is what Okri calls “Afro-Mystic Soul” — music that, in his words, passes through you and touches your heart with permanent resonance. But how exactly did this self-described “Abambian King” become one of Nigeria’s most enduringly influential musical geniuses, and why is his nearly three-decade journey from stardom to American relocation finally coming full circle?
The Evolution of a Sound That Defied Categories
“Even in nursery school, I was that kid who loved to perform,” Mike Okri recalls during our video chat on Google Meet, his voice carrying the same smooth tenor that once made him one of Nigeria’s brightest stars in the late 1980s. “Other parents would say, ‘Don’t let him enter the competition; he’ll win again!’ It was that bad, or maybe let me say, that good.”
Sitting thousands of miles from the Lagos stages where he once commanded crowds, the man who coined the term “Afro-Mystic Soul” reflects on a journey that took him from the pinnacle of Nigerian stardom to a purposeful relocation to America. For nearly three decades, the younger brother of celebrated author Ben Okri has watched from afar as a new generation of Nigerian artistes — Burna Boy, Davido, Wizkid — conquered the global stages he once dreamed of gracing.
“When I left Nigeria, my plan was just to seek greener pastures for two years and then return,” he admits with a knowing smile. “But that short break ended up lasting indefinitely.” The decision to leave came at what he describes as “the height of my glory,” when he was among Nigeria’s top five musical acts, a versatile artiste who, according to him, could sing highlife effortlessly, and could also deliver a ballad with the smoothness of Luther Vandross.
But Nigeria in the late 1980s and early 1990s was a different landscape for musicians. Piracy was rampant, record labels kept dual accounts to shortchange artistes, and Nigerian radio stations played up to 90% foreign music. “We had fame, but we were not making enough money from it,” Okri explains. “Many of us had no idea about publishing rights, how long we were signing away our works, or whether our estates could ever reclaim them. That’s why so many Nigerian artistes have died in penury.”
The exploitation ran deeper than simple contract disputes. “Some labels kept two sets of accounts: one they showed the artiste, claiming, ‘Your song isn’t really making waves; the radio play is just hype we’re paying for to promote you’ — and the real one they kept hidden,” Okri reveals. This systematic deception left artistes wondering how popular songs translated into survival struggles. “If your music was popular enough to be played by DJs, especially in rural areas, you could earn a little from live gigs, but it was never enough.”
The psychological manipulation artistes faced was just as harmful. Record labels often acted as if they were doing artistes a favor by signing them. Additionally, record companies rarely disclosed how much revenue was being generated from the artistes’ catalogues. This lack of transparency was a deliberate strategy designed to keep artistes dependent and unaware of their true commercial worth.
The systemic challenges ran deeper than economics. “When I travelled abroad, I saw that countries like the U.S. or the U.K. played up to 85% of their own indigenous music. Meanwhile, in Nigeria, almost 90% of what you’d hear on the radio was foreign music. For artistes like me, mainstream Nigerian radio and TV hardly featured our music unless we were part of a special intercultural program.”

The move to America initially humbled the star who once stood shoulder-to-shoulder, sharing stages with legends like King Sunny Ade and the late Onyeka Onwenu, whose band he played with for three years before launching his solo career. Life in America stripped away the celebrity glamour and forced him to start anew, transforming his perspective over time, especially regarding the business side of the music industry.
Before the explosion of African media platforms that reshaped the continent’s entertainment landscape, Mike Okri made a timely move abroad. His departure came just ahead of a transformative shift that would redefine how African music reached the world. Less than five years after he left, MTV Base launched in Africa, breaking the near-monopoly held by Channel O over music television across the region. MTV Base had already revolutionized entertainment scenes in the U.K., Asia, America, and other parts of the world, and Africa became their final frontier. Their arrival fundamentally altered the narrative, propelling Nigerian music into the global spotlight and setting the stage for the country’s continued leadership in the industry. Reflecting on this pivotal moment, Mike Okri said, “Less than five years after I moved, MTV Base came to Africa, and that changed everything. Before then, Channel O could monopolize the territories, but MTV Base broke that hold. When they finally arrived, Nigerian music rose to the forefront, and that momentum is part of why we still lead today.”
The Making of a Musical Sage
Mike Okri’s musical education was deeply shaped by mentorship from industry legends such as Laolu Akins, a producer and member of the iconic BLO band, who also worked on landmark projects like Shina Peters’ “Ace” and Adewale Ayuba’s albums. Collaborating with a figure like Laolu Akins was akin to attending a masterclass every day, providing Okri with invaluable insights and skills that would later inform his own role as a mentor.
From a young age, Okri’s passion for performance was evident. Beginning in nursery school with Christmas carols and continuing through secondary school, these early experiences fueled his drive. By the time he attended Television College to train as a broadcaster, he was already certain that singing would be central to his future.
Throughout his career, Okri built a network that included prominent figures such as the late Jake Sollo, Roy, and Tony Grey, along with lasting friendships like that with Bongos Ikwue, who remains a close friend and like an older brother. These relationships formed a thriving musical ecosystem that helped nurture and shape his distinctive voice.

It was during this period of growth that Okri developed his signature “Afro-Mystic Soul” sound, a term he created that has, in his words, “outlived me.” Breaking down the concept, he explains: “The ‘Afro’ part is obvious. I’m African, and I carry that identity proudly in my music. The ‘mystic’ comes from how I discovered and shaped my sound into something unique. It’s music that lingers in your mind. You might feel like you’ve heard it before, yet it still sounds new every time. And the ‘soul’ is about how it touches your heart.”
This philosophy birthed classics like “Wisdom,” “Omoge,” “Time Na Money,” and “Rhumba Dance”, songs that Okri describes as having the weight of that mysticism regardless of genre. “Years back, people started calling me the ‘Abambian King’ — AK for short,” he says, referencing a term he created that became part of his identity. “My band members, fans, and anyone drawn to my Afro-Mystic Soul became part of what I called the ‘Abambian Tribe’. And as the king of that tribe, the name AK became part of my identity. If you love my music, in a way, you’re an Abambian too.”
In many ways, Okri was pioneering what has become standard practice in contemporary Afropop. Long before fans rallied around Wizkid as “Wizkid FCs,” pledged allegiance to Davido’s “30BG,” or identified as Burna Boy’s “Outsiders,” Mike Okri had already established the blueprint for artiste-fan tribal identity with his Abambian tribe. Where today’s stars have adopted monikers like “Big Wiz,” “OBO,” and “African Giant,” Okri was already styling himself as the “Abambian King”, creating music and a movement that gave fans a sense of belonging and shared identity decades before social media made such communities commonplace.
His approach to songwriting has always been collaborative, though he’s careful to distinguish between genuine partnership and ego-driven control. “When I work with younger songwriters today, I always listen to them first,” he explains. “If something needs improvement, I suggest changes, but I never impose my will just to stamp my name on it.”
Few of his biggest hits emerged from unexpected collaborations. For instance, “Antala” was written by his friend Sultan, an Isoko man from Warri who’s now a Delta State government official. “When he brought the song, I made some corrections, and we became co-writers. When we released it, it became a hit, though “Wisdom” later overshadowed it.”

One of his classics, “Time Na Money”, originally started as a radio jingle created by broadcaster Ray Mike Nwachukwu. Mike Okri later restructured the piece, added his lyrics, and transformed it into a timeless hit. While many assume he wrote the song entirely on his own, he has always acknowledged the original creator’s contribution. In contrast, “Wisdom,” perhaps his most enduring composition, was written solely by Okri. This song became a generational anthem because it captured the spirit of the era, resonating deeply with young people searching for guidance. Its powerful message, reflected in lines like: “Big or small come hear my tory / Life e no be bed of roses / Anytin wey you do make you do well / Everybody go follow your footsteps,” addressed the mistakes of wayward youths in a way that encouraged reflection and inspired change.
Spiritual Awakening and the Art of Inspirational Resistance
Beyond the melodies and mysticism lies Okri’s deeper calling as what he describes as a musical prophet. “Even though I was young, I had the mindset of a sage,” he reflects on his early career. This wisdom-seeking approach infused his music with lasting power that continues to move listeners decades later. “When people recognize me today and sing along to songs like ‘Wisdom’ and sing the ‘Hear Your Mama, Hear Your Papa’ part, I sometimes feel tears in my eyes. People tell me my music has restructured their lives, reshaped them. That’s a blessing.”
Mike Okri’s spiritual journey runs alongside his musical evolution. Although he had been a Christian long before moving to the U.S., having been baptized in Lagos, he only accepted the title of pastor about 15 years ago, and even then, somewhat reluctantly. He had initially resisted the role but eventually embraced it with maturity. However, his understanding of being a pastor differs from the traditional image of leading a church; instead, he sees his role more as a counsellor, offering guidance in various areas of life.
This spiritual perspective informs his critique of contemporary Nigerian music. He challenges the common belief that becoming a pastor means one must stop performing secular music. For him, music should always be inspirational, a quality he finds lacking in much of today’s music. Even romantic songs, he believes, should uplift and inspire young lovers. When music encourages unseriousness, he sees it as contributing to chaos rather than positivity.
Mike Okri believes the current generation of Nigerian superstars has the potential to tackle social issues but often holds back due to fear of losing the camaraderie they share with Nigeria’s elite and the so-called bourgeoisie. He doesn’t label these individuals as bad people; many, in his view, are genuinely good. However, he prefers to stand with those who use their influence responsibly, regardless of fame, religion, or tribe, rather than with those who misuse their power.
His philosophy extends to timeless versus momentary impact: “A song that lasts forever is never just a ‘club banger.’ Club hits might serve the moment: maybe you’re intoxicated and want to dance, but the moment you leave, you can’t even remember them. A timeless song is different. Imagine you’re driving 500 kilometers on Lagos highway, and that song keeps you reflecting on where you’ve been, how far you’ve come, and where you want to be in the next five years. That’s the kind of music that stays with you.”
Digital Resurrection and Future Legacy
Today, Mike Okri stands at an interesting crossroads. The digital age that initially seemed to threaten traditional music industry models has become his pathway back to relevance. “The digital era has changed everything,” he says. “These days, I can connect with fans anywhere in the world with just a click, so it doesn’t feel like I’m missing out anymore. I’m grateful to God for life, because as long as you’re alive, you can keep your dreams and aspirations alive.”
The same technology that has propelled today’s Nigerian artistes to global success has also opened new avenues for veterans like Mike Okri to reconnect with their audiences. Gone are the days when physical presence was necessary to make an impact; the internet allows him to be anywhere in the world and still feel the love from true, organic music lovers who appreciate his work.
Beyond music, Okri leads a rich personal life as a father, husband, and grandfather. Coming from a family of writers—his elder brother, Ben Okri, is a celebrated literary figure with numerous acclaimed books—he has also been writing for years. While many of his manuscripts remain unpublished, he considers writing an important goal, though he humbly waits to call himself a “true writer” until his works see the light of day.
Coming from a family where literary excellence was appreciated and mastered at the highest level undoubtedly shaped Okri’s approach to songwriting. Growing up alongside a future Booker Prize winner must have created unique dynamics, perhaps competitive inspiration, shared discussions about narrative craft, and an understanding that words carry weight beyond their immediate meaning. This literary foundation likely explains the depth and permanence he sought in his lyrics, treating songs as vessels for wisdom and transformation. Where many musicians focus primarily on melody and rhythm, Okri’s family background instilled in him the novelist’s sensibility for character development, thematic resonance, and critical storytelling.

His approach to songs like “Wisdom” — crafting lyrics that could restructure lives and reshape listeners — reflects this literary inheritance, revealing that the Okri gift for profound narrative expression manifests differently but equally powerfully across both brothers’ chosen mediums.
Mike Okri’s current interests span multiple entertainment sectors. He is a passionate movie critic and a bit of a movie enthusiast, as well as an avid bookworm. Looking ahead, he hopes to invest more energy into nurturing young acting talents, with ambitions to help discover the next Genevieve Nnaji or Richard Mofe-Damijo (RMD). Yet, music remains central to his mission. He is actively working on a wealth of new music — some created by himself, some by his children who are also involved in music, and some from other artistes he may collaborate with. He believes the younger generation will eventually realize there is much more to Mike Okri than they ever knew.
His return to show business is not solely about a personal comeback; it is also about building platforms for the emerging generation. Meanwhile, his relationship with the current wave of Nigerian music success stories is nuanced but gracious. When reflecting on artistes like Burna Boy performing at Madison Square Garden — a milestone Okri had dreamed of long before Burna Boy was born — he says, “Today, he’s done it, just like King Sunny Ade and a few others before him. And that’s okay. Sometimes, you carry a dream, but it doesn’t happen in your time, not because you’re unworthy, but because God chooses someone else for that moment.”
He draws biblical parallels to explain this acceptance: “It’s like the story of David in the Bible, who wanted to build a house for God, but God said, ‘No, your hands are full of blood. Your son Solomon will build it instead.’ Sometimes God redirects the glory for His own reasons.”
His pragmatic view of success has evolved with experience: “For me, I don’t need a 20,000- or 40,000-capacity arena to showcase my gift. With the internet, I can have ‘pocket shows’ — 500 or 1,000 people — and still make the same impact. There’s an opportunity carved out for each of us, young or old, and as long as we’re alive, we must use our time wisely to do good.”
Reflecting on his generation’s role in Nigerian music history, Okri positions them not as pioneers but as transformers. “I wouldn’t say it was really my generation that laid the groundwork. I’d give that honor to the generation before us — people like Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, Sir Victor Uwaifo, and many others who came earlier. What my generation did was to take what they had built and push it further. We fused Western influences with African tones, creating a new kind of awareness. We were serious about it, and that seriousness earned us more recognition.”
Among his surviving contemporaries — Felix Lebarty in New Jersey, Alex Zito in Minnesota, Alex Okoroigwe (Alex O) in Lagos, Daniel Wilson, Nya Edward Inyang (Blacky), and Sunny Neji — Okri maintains connections that speak to music’s enduring bonds. Some, like Chris Ane Ozigizaga and Ras Kimono, he’s lost to time, leaving gaps that speak to both music’s power and mortality’s reality.

Mike Okri’s entrepreneurial spirit was deeply shaped by his experiences with exploitation in the music industry. Moving to the U.S. brought a new perspective. According to him, while exploitation exists everywhere, the difference lies in access to justice. In America, knowing your rights and pursuing legal action can lead to fair outcomes, unlike back home where artistes struggling to survive often cannot afford legal battles against powerful record companies. This understanding fueled his ambition to one day own a record label and be the kind of honest partner he wished he had at the start of his career.
When reflecting on his legacy, Okri envisions something beyond personal success. He sees himself as a man who carried many ideas through life and was never selfish enough to keep them to himself. Unlike those who guard their ideas out of fear or mistrust, he believes in sharing knowledge and inspiration to help others and build nations, recognizing that life is about giving rather than holding back.
For an artiste whose music once promised that “Time Na Money” and whose wisdom songs still bring tears to his eyes when fans sing along, Mike Okri’s planned return to active music-making represents the completion of a circle that began in those childhood competitions where parents feared letting him compete meant victory seemed inevitable for Okri.