P-Square. Image source: ai-generated
P-Square changed Nigerian music forever.
You cannot tell the story of Afrobeats without them. But here is a question
that has been on my mind for a while: would they have been this big if they
were born in Anambra, where their father came from, instead of Jos, where they
actually grew up?
My
short answer? No. They would still have been famous, but they would not have
been P-Square.
Let me explain.
I started thinking about this properly
when Rude Boy dropped that new song with Sarkodie, Blessed and Alive. In
it, he talks about starting out in J-Town—Jos. And I felt that. I am from Jos,
and when artists like him shout out our city, it hits different. It brings back
the pride.
Now,
many people do not know this, but P-Square came from a rich family. They lived
around Busa Buji Street in Jos. Their father owned Twins Bread—a big bakery at
Jenta Adamu. Back in the day, those Peugeot 404 vans with "Twins
Bread" written on them were everywhere—on the Bukuru Expressway, heading
to Nasarawa, southern Kaduna, all over. That man was not poor. Not even close.
Why
does that matter? Because money gives you room to dream. It means you can
afford studio time. You can buy equipment. You can fail and try again without
your whole family starving. A lot of talented people never get that chance.
P-Square had it.
Of
course, compared to the millions they eventually made from music, their
father's wealth looked small. That is just life—water in a cup versus water in
an overhead tank. But any father would be proud to see his children outgrow his
own success.
Now, let us talk about environment. The
East gave us Highlife legends like the Oriental Brothers. That was their thing.
But Jos was different. Jos was a mix of all kinds of people—Christians,
Muslims, southerners, northerners, foreigners. That mix produced a sound you
did not hear anywhere else. It gave us 2Baba, M.I, Ice Prince, Panam Percy
Paul. That sound had rock, R&B, pop—not just Highlife.
But
Jos had one big problem: no music industry. No labels, no publishers, no
promoters. P-Square had to go to Lagos for that. And after they won that Grab
Da Mic competition in 2001, Benson & Hedges sponsored them, and the rest is
history. Lagos gave them the machine. Anambra, for all its culture, never had
that kind of machine.
So what if they had stayed in Anambra?
Would they have become Highlife musicians? Maybe. Probably. By the 90s,
Highlife was already fading, but the pressure to sound "Igbo" would
have been there. Their music might have had more guitar licks, more
call-and-response, and less of the Michael Jackson and Usher vibe that made
them stand out.
And
look—Highlife was beautiful. It was deep. But it never went as far as Afrobeats
did. Afrobeats took Nigerian music to places Highlife never dreamed of. Those
old-school Highlife artists used to laugh at the younger generation, say we
were not serious. But if Sir Warrior, the leader of the Oriental Brothers, were
alive today to see the streaming numbers P-Square pulled in, he would be
shocked. Not because their music was better—but because the world had changed.
The internet, streaming, global distribution—things he never had.
So, back to the question: would P-Square
have been as mighty if they were born in Anambra? I do not think so.
Not
because Anambra is not talented. Please. Anambra has given us giants. But Jos
gave them a sound that was different. Lagos gave them the industry to push that
sound worldwide. Anambra would have given them roots and pride, but roots alone
do not make a tree tall. You need good soil. You need sunlight. You need space
to grow.
Jos
was the soil. Lagos was the sunlight. Their father's money was the space.
Anambra would have given them a different color of greatness—but that color
might not have reached the world so fast.
At
the end of the day, talent is not enough. You need to be in the right place at
the right time. You need opportunity. You need a little luck. P-Square had all
of that. And that is why they became who they are.
