10 African Songs About Mental Health
Mental health topics are making their way into the center of Afropop. Check out these ten standout songs.
Introspection is, admittedly not one of Afropop’s most popular topics. However, there’s a revolution going on. African artists who currently occupy top spots in the scene are evoking the inner landscapes of their minds. A sensibility whose influence has sometimes been attributed to emo music, introspective manifestations however have spread broadly across the spectrum of African music in distinct degrees of intensity.
According to a 2022 report published by the National Institutes of Health, Africa has 1.4 mental health workers per 100,000 people, which is a considerably low figure when compared to the global average (9 health workers per 100,000 people). The dearth of institutional response to the growing societal awareness of mental health — especially amongst young people — leaves a lot to be desired, but music has been a powerful conduit for expressing such mental and psychological concerns that would otherwise be stifled.As a result, poets of sensitivity have been in higher demand across the African music ecosystem. Whether it’s through the untangling of childhood traumas or reveling in whatever slice of joy is attainable, the songs in this list come from a deeply personal place. And while their sounds are essentially distinct, at the core they all share a deep respect for the spirituality and skill of language, which is effortlessly blended into their consideration.
These are ten songs which reflect various sides of mental health awareness.
Lloyiso – “Where Do We Go (When We Need Love)”
A stellar vocalist, Lloyiso evokes great complexity from the familiar feeling of loneliness. That itch of “heavy nights” bares down on the stunning simplicity of his songwriting, crafting a block of emotion that melts slowly over time. In this song’s context, love doesn’t merely describe romantic affiliations, rather it’s a metaphor for something greater, which is the spiritual need to become larger than oneself and to be aligned with the pulse of the world. In its absence, depression looms, and almost countering its imminence, Lloyiso asks in the first line of the second verse, “God gave me life, why shy away?”
Tems – “Hold On”
Before she became an international face for soul and R&B, Tems was creating intimate prayers disguised as songs. On her debut project For Broken Ears, she’s attuned to the ebbs of her uniqueness, casting positive spells while acknowledging and renouncing the hurt she’s been through. Where her Born In The Wild debut had its outlandish moments, the singer ends on the poetic chord of “Hold On.” It’s a miraculous achievement, hitting the nerve of uncertainty as reflected in the writing. Tems’ pen has always evaded specificity, and here that works to reward repeated listens, propelled along by the serene vibrance of the production.
Black Sherif – “Soja”
Across his debut album, The Villain I Never Was, Black Sherif filters genres like rap, rock, highlife and Afropop through a distinct Ghanaian prism. It’s a universal body of work that has no confusion about its roots. Sherif espouses this philosophy on “Soja,” an emotive cornerstone of the album. With imagery such as beating one’s chest in strength and drawing power from a brother’s spirit, the roots are obviously African, but the tenderness of his gaze will appeal to anyone anywhere. It’s one of those rare songs that doesn’t pretend to have an antidote to mental health issues — in this case anxiety — but the artist’s own resolve set on wax is the catalyst that spurs the listener towards action in their own life.
Llona – “Comforter”
Stiff-faced optimism is a dominant trait in the music of Llona. The Nigerian artist has frequently elicited strong (and mostly positive) opinions about the bleakness of his art, a sort of shield he wears to war against the armies of depression. For many, their introduction to the artist came with this record, a poignant depiction of the persona’s mind. As depression and mental health issues continue to bring up conversation, a widely explored subtopic is its relationship with weed, alcohol and other such activities. Leaning into his demon, Llona is the sort of guy who would tell you to embrace the darkness — at its base, that’s what this song is about.
Qing Madi – “See Finish”
At just 18 years old, Qing Madi wields high artistic sensibilities. On “See Finish,” she flaunts her abilities, crafting a wizened song about protecting one’s space to avoid “see finish,” a very Nigerian phrase that connotes disrespect by way of over-familiarity. Cool, calm and collected, it’s an assured song that explores the personal arena of mental health—while working towards a better organization of one’s mind, sometimes the guarding of the physical self is necessary.
T.I Blaze – “Sometimes (Remix)” feat. Olamide
Since the turn of the 2000s, few genres have represented Nigerian life as strikingly as street hop. Taking for their instrument the inflections of our local languages, the heart of this genre is realism. T.I Blaze emerges from this tradition, a worthy scion of Lagos’ interpretation of the movement. On “Sometimes (Remix),” he broadens the themes with great sensitivity and skill, getting the fabled Olamide co-sign. It resonates strongly because it’s real, the salvo of potentially dangerous youths who don’t want to give in to their demons. How to find peace in this conflict? Although Blaze offers a weed strain as his quick fix, a closer listen would reveal a tussling with deeper considerations.
Joshua Baraka – “Tewekweka”
The Ugandan singer-songwriter has been lauded a lot for his voice, and the mesmerizing way he wields it to tell powerful stories. Not only a stunning vocalist, Joshua Baraka’s writing espouses an intergenerational influence, simple and affecting and also complex in its layers, something he showed early on in his 2021 debut Baby Steps. The last song on the four-track EP is an all-timer that uncovers the weight of insecurities and sets the heart on the path of letting go. “To be happy, all you need is to love you.” Baraka counsels in the sweetest coo.
Yinka Bernie – “It’s Okay To Cry” feat. Joyce Olong
An artist who reflects the personal frequently, Yinka Bernie went into 2020 with a lot on his chest. He’d been inactive the previous year, giving his fans hints that he needed some space, so it made sense he came out the next year with this masterpiece. Released in February, it came just shortly before the pandemic really broke out, a sort of foreboding message to keep in touch with one’s emotions. Stripped, with a mellow base that invites rest, aural perfection follows the record and is perfectly complemented by Olong’s soulful vocals. It’s okay to cry, they sing.
Sauti Sol – “Sober”
The legacy of Sauti Sol is their fusion of soul into traditional Kenyan storytelling. In their winding verses, the band typically used everyday characters to dramatize the message of the song. “Sober” takes after that form, a simple narrative of a man making promises that he’ll be better. Although there’s an implicit complication that words are cheap, it’s the earnest admissions of the man that makes it resonate so much. “I will put my life in order / no longer be a victim of the devil on my shoulder,” they sing over the warm production.
Omah Lay – “Come Closer”
Omah Lay is quite important to the conversation of mental health in Afropop, so much that his songs could easily make their own list. The artist has constantly worked his way out with his troubles, baring them on wax all through the while. Starting out as a rapper might have influenced how he says things in the most precise and vague ways; a typical Omah Lay line is not completely deconstructed, but taking new form and meaning through the times. Whereas Boy Alone depicted the mind of a young man who’s found success but battles several mental issues, the deluxe version — where this song features — sees him approaching the light, giving a hand of help to listeners. “The sun shines for everybody,” he says towards the end of the song, “you just have to go outside and get it.”