Rema’s Resistance: Authenticity, Azaman, Assimilation

With his latest album, HEIS, Rema has set the music world ablaze. Enthusiastic Afrobeats purists, who have been clamoring for a return to the genre’s authentic roots, are exhilarated by Rema’s revival of its traditional sound—albeit with his distinctive twist. Yet, this bold move has not come without controversy. Critics have denounced his music as “demonic” and questioned its global viability, accusing it of lacking mainstream appeal. This clash underscores a profound struggle: the tension between remaining true to Afrobeats’ cultural heritage and succumbing to international commercial pressures. Rema’s album has thus ignited fierce debates on three critical fronts: the pursuit of authenticity, the intersection of African spirituality, and the relentless demands of assimilation.

The concept of authenticity has been central to the conversation around Rema’s music. Fans of Afrobeats have long sought a return to the genre’s original sound, and many view Rema’s album as a reclamation of that identity. His blend of traditional Afrobeats with his own unique style underscores the ongoing tension between staying true to cultural roots and experimenting with modern influences. Authenticity here refers to whether an artist remains faithful to the foundational sounds, themes, and values of African music, or adapts them for broader appeal. Rema’s refusal to conform to Westernized versions of Afrobeats in his current album has reignited the debate on how African artists should evolve while maintaining cultural integrity, especially in a globalized music industry.

Rema’s criticism of the Western-approved Afrobeats industry emphasizes his belief that no one within this commercial framework can truly capture the essence of Nigerian culture as he does. In his recent remarks, Rema asserted that these industry figures, who often repackage African music for Western tastes, fail to encapsulate the rich, authentic Nigerian references present in his work. He pointed to his own incorporation of deeply localized elements—such as the eerie nod to the Nigerian horror movie ‘Ozeba’ from the Africa Magic channel and the use of the term ‘Azaman’—as evidence of his unique ability to weave genuine Nigerian experiences into his music. This, he argued, highlights the superficiality of Western interpretations and underscores his commitment to preserving the true essence of his cultural heritage.

The conversation around assimilation is deeply intertwined with respectability politics, especially for Black and African artists trying to break into where the money is. The expectation is often that to gain access to Western audiences and capital, artists must compromise their authenticity. However, in “Azaman,” a track from his album, Rema challenges this notion. He declares, “whether na the Naira” or “whether na the dollar,” he will always be “H-I-M” chasing the money. The term “Azaman” refers to someone with wealth in Nigeria, and through this reference, Rema playfully refers to wealthy Nigerian businessmen as his dads (alluding to the access to wealth he has). No matter what the “talk” is on the “TL”, even if people “Rema get mental disorder” he will always have money coming in – debunking the stereotype that there is no money in African authenticity.

By urging Rema to “tone it down,” his critics are letting Western standards dictate what defines Blackness and Africanness. When people claim that *HEIS* doesn’t appeal to the “global” audience, they are implicitly referring to the Western audience, as it remains the dominant force in media and geopolitics. This perspective reinforces a colonial legacy, where the West is seen as the sole arbiter of validation and success. It’s akin to a “Global” or “World” tour that excludes Asia, Africa, and South America—unfairly centering the West as the only measure of global representation.

Similarly, those who label Rema’s music as “demonic” are applying Western respectability politics to vilify and undermine his expression of Edo culture. The Edo people, indigenous to southern Nigeria and descendants of the powerful Benin Kingdom, have long faced negative stereotypes about their spirituality, a legacy of colonial demonization of African cultures. This critique of Rema’s music reflects not only the lingering effects of colonialism but also how colonial standards foster harmful ethnonationalist rhetoric. 

The fashion accompanying HEIS further underscores Rema’s deep connection to Edo heritage. His wardrobe, featuring regal robes with symbolic motifs reminiscent of historical Edo art, not only celebrates his cultural roots but also enhances the album’s narrative, bridging traditional aesthetics with contemporary artistic expression.

At the heart of this debate is the idea that Afrobeats, much like other Black-originated genres such as Hip Hop and R&B, faces pressures to conform to Western, white-owned corporate standards. These standards often emphasize commercial appeal over cultural nuance, potentially diluting the essence of African genres like Afrobeats, highlife, and amapiano. Rema’s recent speech advocating for the protection of these genres resonates with the ongoing struggle that Black artists globally face:  Africans should not have to assimilate in genres they created.

Rema’s resistance against this assimilation marks a pivotal moment in African music’s journey abroad. It serves as a reminder that African artists are not simply contributors to the global music scene—they are its originators, and their work should not be compromised for the sake of Western approval. As African music continues to grow in popularity, the industry must create African music, Black music on our terms. Black people have consistently accommodated others, had sleepless nights trying to figure out how to coddle white comforts. That is unfair, that is the erasure of who we are. Everyone will be invited to the party, those who don’t want to come will not and that is okay.