As Nigerian pop music and, by extension, African music, continues to grow and evolve, so must Africans’ understanding of what makes great music.
For an industry that thrives on collaboration, from featured verses and production credits to tour support and dance challenges, it’s surprising how songwriting still carries the burden of being seen as a one-person job in Afropop. The idea of a single genius writing hits alone and in silence still shapes how many people think songs should be made. But music, especially pop music, has always been a shared effort. And using a co-writer is not a lack of talent but a real and essential part of that process.
In a recent interview, Davido made a statement that would’ve been controversial just a few years ago: “First three albums, yes, but now I have co-writers. On my new album, “Five,” I used co-writers on 50% of it”. That casual admission reveals not a decline in creativity, but a growth in artistic openness that acknowledges collaboration can be a form of maturity, and not a lack of talent. This isn’t the first time Davido has openly acknowledged using songwriters. Back in 2019, ahead of the release of his album A Good Time, he tweeted that Adekunle Gold co-wrote one of his favorite songs on the project.
Davido’s career has consistently leaned on synergy. From the early magic of his hit track, “Dami Duro,” co-produced by Shizzi, to the continental sweep of “Fall” and “If”, penned by Kiddominant and Tekno, respectively, his biggest records have often involved input from others. What separates his new transparency is not the act itself, but the decision to name it openly.
“For years, songwriting was this invisible labor in Afropop,” says Chioma Ego, a music business enthusiast and A&R. “Now that artistes are being more transparent, we should be rewarding that honesty, not mocking it.”
It’s also worth noting that co-writing has long been a central aspect of pop music worldwide. Beyoncé’s 2016 album, “Lemonade”, listed more than 70 songwriters across its track list. Rihanna’s 2016 album, “ANTI,” praised for its depth and daring, was shaped by writers such as Bibi Bourelly and James Fauntleroy. Even Kanye West, often mythologized for his visionary approach, collaborates with teams of writers and producers to bring his ideas to life. Eminem famously received writing credit for Dr. Dre’s “Forgot About Dre”, while Bernie Taupin, though lesser known to the public, wrote many of Elton John’s biggest hits. Nas reportedly wrote “Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It” for Will Smith, one of the most commercially successful tracks of the late ’90s.
Sia, long before her rise as a pop star, penned songs for global giants like Beyoncé and Rihanna. The Weeknd, Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, Ne-Yo, and Bruno Mars have all contributed as co-writers to songs for other artistes. Adele’s award-winning album “25” was built with multiple collaborators. Across all these examples, the music industry continues to prove a simple truth that making a song powerful isn’t whose hand wrote it, but how deeply it connects when the world finally hears it.
“People assume that writing a song alone makes it better,” says Joseph, an A&R at Wavy Entertainment. “But collaboration is what gives songs layers. A hook might come from one person, a verse from another. That’s how hits are made.”
Still, there’s a persistent stigma in Afropop, perhaps fed by the genre’s emphasis on street credibility and self-made authenticity, that equates co-writing with creative insufficiency. The idea is that if someone else touched the verse, then the artistry isn’t “pure.” But that’s a narrow way to look at music. The very foundation of African music, highlife, fuji, apala, and Afrobeat, rests on ensemble work, call-and-response, and collective creation. What this means more than anything is that it’s the spirit of the band that moves the music forward.
A strong example is the hit song “Unavailable” from Davido’s 2023 album, Timeless. Written in part by Peruzzi and Logos Olori, the song became a global anthem. Did it matter who wrote the hook when the world danced to it? The success of the song isn’t diluted by shared credit; instead, it’s elevated by it.
“We need to move past the obsession with purity,” says Sandra, a songwriter and music critic for Sounds Of Our Time publication. “Music isn’t sacred because it was made alone, it’s sacred because it connects. And often, it takes more than one hand to build that bridge.” It’s also essential to draw a line between co-writing and ghostwriting. Co-writing involves shared authorship and visible credit; ghostwriting, on the other hand, erases the writer altogether.
Most importantly, crediting co-writers can serve as a ladder for emerging talent. For young songwriters, landing a song on a superstar’s album is both a form of paycheck and a platform. It creates pipelines of opportunity in an industry that’s often hard to break into and with Davido naming his co-writers, he’s shifting the culture in a way that others should emulate.
It’s also worth remembering that Nigerian artistes have been pushing this conversation for some time. Back in 2019, Teni, one of the most versatile and lyrically gifted acts in Afropop, addressed the discomfort Nigerians have with songwriting. In an interview with DJ Abass, she said, “A lot of people don’t embrace songwriters. People don’t understand that Rihanna, for example, has about seven songwriters on a song… Do you know what it means for a song to be world-class? You have different brains coming together to make it dope.”
Teni highlighted that co-writing was not only common in the global pop ecosystem but also a tool for elevating musical quality. She also pointed out how, in Nigeria, artistes don’t even need big budgets to bring writers on board, thanks to songwriting splits. But she was also honest about the cultural lag: “The Nigerian music industry is not yet ready to embrace concepts such as split,” she admitted, “but they’re getting there slowly but surely.”
Her comments followed public backlash after she revealed that she wrote “Like Dat” for Davido in a tweet. A moment that laid bare the ongoing stigma around songwriting in the industry. Teni’s defense was clear that transparency doesn’t discredit artistry, and the reluctance to discuss it doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Her honesty, much like Davido’s recent admission, underscores the slow but steady culture shift toward embracing songwriting as a legitimate and necessary part of music-making.
Of course, there will be backlash. Nigerian audiences, much like their global counterparts, have a complicated relationship with transparency. An artiste confessing to not writing all their lyrics is still treated like a leak in the ship. But that assumption rests on a misunderstanding of artistry. Writing, performing, arranging, and producing are each their own creative muscle. A great performer can bring life to words they didn’t write, just as a great writer may never be able to command a stage.
As Nigerian Pop music and, by extension, African Music, continues to grow and evolve, so must our understanding of what makes great music. Sampling, co-writing, and genre-blending are not shortcuts. They are tools.. And more importantly, they are valid.