Afrobeat in Seoul : Omah's and Tekno's Takeover
1635 Words
CHAPTER 4
The air had changed, gone was the polished K-pop choreography and glittery mic stands. Now, a thicker, rawer vibe simmered through the arena like a pot of pepper soup. The screen behind the stage flickered with flashing yellow and deep purple light. The bass came in soft at first, then heavy.
A voice growled through the speakers:
“SEOUL... ARE YOU READY FOR SOME NOIIIISEEEE..?!”
Spotlights swirled. The crowd was already buzzing.
“Make some noise for the Port Harcourt boy with heartbreak in his voice…
OMAH LAYYYY!!!”
Omah Lay stepped into the spotlight, mic in hand.
He raised it and grinned. His voice rolled deep and clear across the arena:
“Seoul, make some motherf**king noiiiiise!”
The crowd went wild.
“Yeah, I'm really privileged and happy to be performing live on stage for you guys tonight.”
“This one na special vibe. So tonight… I want make una dance, forget your sorrows — just feel the music.”
He turned to the DJ booth and threw a hand in the air:
“DJ! Run am!”
The soft piano keys of “Soso” drifted in and the crowd quieted like they knew something holy was coming...
A single piano key echoed, and Omah Lay lifted the mic.
🎶
"Ahn, Ahn..."
“All of the things them talk, I no dey hear, hear...”
“Try wetin I do if you no dey fear, fear...”
“One mind dey tell me to disappear, pear...”
“Soso come and help me oh, cause I don pray…”
He walked slowly across the stage, hoodie still on, voice raw and smoky.
“Soso take my pain away, soso take my pain...”
“Soso take my pain away.
The lights pulsed soft gold. Smoke curled upward as dancers slowly circled behind him in shadows, not distracting — just emphasizing his energy.
“Shibiri, shibiri, shibiri.."
“They are talking shi-shibiri..."
“Water nor get enemy..."
“Till you fall for Oshimiri..."
And then he froze. Omah Lay stood completely still, raised the mic with both hands, like he was about to confess something sacred.
“See I don break commandments…”
“I can't stay for one place..."
“For God sake of my dear…”
“Come and ginger me... ”
Gasps rippled through the audience.
Even the idols in the VIP section sat up. BTS’s RM leaned forward, whispering something to Jimin.
Omah Lay dropped his hoodie now. His eyes visible, glossy and full of weight.
“Only you wey dey feel my pain…”
“Give me vitamin wey go..."
“Take this pain away…”
“Soso oh,soso,soso oh ”
The music swelled
“Soso take my pain away… soso take my pain…”
“Soso take my pain away…”
Fans raised their phones with tears in their eyes, even those who didn’t understand the language felt everything. As the final notes of Soso faded, the lights dimmed again then slowly…
A new beat crept in warmer, groovier.
It was “Understand.”
Fans who recognized the sound screamed.
A hush fell. Then came the groove.
The beat of “Understand.”
Omah Lay tilted his head back, eyes closed, and whispered into the mic:
“This one na for anybody wey ever love person wey no love them back…”
The crowd stirred and then Omah Lay’s voice floated through the speakers:
🎶
“U don cut my weave-on and dread, ah…”
“You make a boy sick and a boy well, ah…”
“Nothing my eye see, my mouth e don tell, ah…”
“I enter rain ‘cause I give you umbrella…”
A gasp rolled through the audience.
He took a slow turn, eyes locked on the front row as the words landed:
“I thought we in this together, oh.."
“Give you my necklace pendant, oh.."
"Give you my last card, you spend am.."
"I show you my best friend, you friend am.."
The lights pulsed with each line , memory flashes turned real as fans began to sing with him
"Everything I do..."
"I under, under.."
"I no fit under, under, under..."
"Me I no fit under, under, under..."
"Under, under..."
"I nor fit understand..."
Then — the final line, whispered like a secret:
“I just want make you understand…”
He took off his in-ear monitor, looked at the crowd, and smiled sadly.
“Na heartbreak dey make better music, I swear.”
He dropped the mic gently…
BLACKOUT.
And then
BOOOOOOMMMMM!!!
THE CROWD WENT INSANE.
It was like a dam burst.
Screams tore through the stadium wild, chaotic, from every corner
“OMAH LAYYYYYYY!!!”
“PORT HARCOURT TO SEOULLLLLLL!!!”
“SING THAT PAINNNNNN!!!”
“NA YOU SABI HEARTBREAK!!!”
Phones flew into the air.
Lightsticks shook like earthquakes.
A girl in the front row passed out crying.
One of the Korean MCs was seen holding his chest like, “Who is this man??”
Even BTS’s Jungkook stood up, hands on his head like:
“WHAT DID I JUST WITNESS?”
Stray Kids were frozen. Enhypen whispered among themselves, eyes wide.
And somewhere backstage…
Wizkid smiled.
Because this wasn’t just Afrobeat.
This was a seismic shift.
Afrobeat had landed.
The camera swept over the crowd —
fans still screaming Omah Lay’s name,
some wiping tears, others waving Nigerian flags with pride.
But the lights shifted again.
A deep bass vibrated the floor.
Then came the voice of the MC — half laughing, half shouting through the mic:
“SEOUUUUL!
Y’all thought that was the end?
Nah, nah, nah. We just getting warmed up!”
More screams.
The LED walls exploded in colors bright green, electric gold, flashes of neon.
“Coming up next…
The king of the bounce, the master of vibe, the one they call —
SLIM DADDY HIMSELFFFF…
TEKNOOOOOOO!!!”
BOOM!
The beat dropped.
Smoke hissed. The stage rotated.
From beneath a rising platform, Tekno emerged.
Leather pants. No shirt. Just a white designer jacket fluttering in the wind.
His chain glinted. His eyes sparkled mischief.
He spun once, waved his hand like a magician, then pointed at the crowd:
“Seoul! Make some noiiiiise if you ready to dance!”
“YEEEESSSSSS!!!” the crowd roared back.
The DJ scratched.
A familiar melody rolled in — one that made even the idols bounce subconsciously.
“PANA” Tekno’s First Performance
🎶
“Folake, gimme love oh…
Na you dey catch my shot oh…”
“For your sake I go go church oh…
We go drive around for my Porsche oh…”
Tekno glided across the stage like he was skating on rhythm.
Behind him, dancers in African print pants and crop tops moved with electric grace — full of fire.
“I say baby Pana…”
“Them say you like cassava…”
“I get big cassava…”
The crowd erupted with laughter and cheers.
“You get big what?!” someone from the crowd screamed jokingly.
Tekno smirked and winked at the camera.
He didn’t need a translator. His music was the language.
“Make I give you balanc-eh…”
“Make I rub your back eh…”
“Make we dey like cat and rat eh…”
Fans were jumping now. Even the reserved ones.
The back row looked like a wave of glowing phones and flying wigs.
He ended the song with a quick spin, blew a kiss, and shouted:
“Seoul!! Una nor dey tire??!”
Crowd:
“NOOOOOOOO!!!”
He laughed, wiped sweat off his face.
“DJ — run that next one. We still dey warm up.”
The crowd was still buzzing from Pana, but Tekno wasn’t done.
“Now I wan take am small small…” he said with a grin.
“This one na for all the fine fine girls wey dey this arena tonight!”
Crowd: “Wooooooo!!!”
Soft lights glowed pink and blue.The dancers changed formation, more sensual, slow, with a sway in their hips.
The bass softened and the rhythm smoothed.
And then… that unmistakable intro played.
🎶
“Alhaji Tekno…
Baby o, o na, o na na na...
Say the love I dey see for your eyes oo...
I love you baby, I no think am twice oo...
(Shingha eeh!)”
Screams rippled through the audience again.
Some fans were already singing along — word for word.
“Your beauty make me to realize…
Say NEPA don bring eh…”
Tekno stepped to the edge of the stage, pointing at fans one by one as he sang:
“Oluchi dance… Oluchi craze… Oluchi tell dem that you love me...”
“Nneka dance… Chioma crase…”
“Aisha eeh… shakara that you love me…”
He dropped to one knee dramatically.
“So you must to marry...
You go love me...
You go kill me, baby…”
The girls in the front row lost it.
“You go follow me…
You are my remedy…
You are my melody…
Baby Kpalanga…”
The background screen showed a sunset over Lagos waters, blending Afrobeat warmth with Seoul’s modern skyline a mix of worlds, now one stage.
Tekno pulled a rose from his pocket, kissed it, and threw it into the crowd.He spun once, his voice rising with emotion.
“Oh baby… Duro!
I no go let you go, Duro!!”
At this point, even some K-pop idols were swaying in their seats, hypnotized by the groove.
The lights flashed. Confetti popped.
The last note lingered like perfume.
He raised the mic again:
“Seoul…
I say una ready for more?!”
And the crowd?
“YEEEESSSSSS!!!”
“AFROBEAT HAS TAKEN OVER!!”
“SLIM DADDY FOR LIFE!!!”
- Writer
