Lush vegetation surrounds Nsukka, the serene south-eastern city Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie immortalized in Purple Hibiscus. It also houses the University of Nigeria, where iLLBLISS got his tertiary education in the mid 1990s, and where he professionally got into Hip-Hop, the art form that has most shaped his perspective and philosophy. There he was introduced to Andrew Bright Igho, popularly known as B-Elect, a rapper and poet, in the early 2000s and along with four other acts—Elajoe, Obiwon, Amaka Nwosu and Chief Rocka—they made up Da Thoroughbreds, which would become one of the defining rap groups of its time.  

This circle of rap enthusiasts worked closely, but only for a few years, as the artists  followed their initial plans to operate individually. While Obiwon and Elajoe had a few hit records, and tending purist rap ideologies and communal exercises was B-Elect, who tragically passed in 2019, it was iLLBLISS who most carried the group’s mythos into enclaves of popular culture, through his commercial success upon return from overseas. His first two solo albums, Dat Igbo Boy and Oga Boss, were released in 2009 and 2012 respectively, and together they constructed the brand he still operates on today—that of the conscious, bossy Igbo man, whose understanding of the mechanics of business doesn’t obstruct his ear for culture but enhances it.  

On his debut, iLLBLISS was working within the tradition of Nigerian pop-rap, incorporating features that ranged from WAJE to Durella, General Pype and Eldee Da Don—all ubiquitous names at the time of release. The album’s biggest record was, however, the incendiary ‘Aiye Po Gan’, which cut its sound from the street appeal of Terry G, at the time one of the most penetrating artists across the continent. Still, that album didn’t move iLLBLISS close to the tradition he would have wanted, not as Oga Boss did. A classic in every sense, the 15-track project showcased a more seamless handle between Hip-Hop and Pop, with the curatorial expertise of iLLBLISS shining through. This was the album that set the tone for the second coming of Igbo rap, with the scene’s next great Phyno producing several records and appearing on two as a featured artist—alongside Naeto C on ‘Hustler’s Footsteps’ and ‘Anam Achi Kwanu’.  

‘I never read the 48 Laws, Oga Boss soon to be in stores,’ raps iLLBLISS on the former, an admission which, while seemingly simple, is actually an indication of his autonomy as a thinker. With the albums that followed, iLLBLISS has consolidated his star power but ponder this for a second: he started rapping professionally in the Golden Age of the nineties as part of Coal City’s Finest and solidified his name among underground lovers in the 2000s as part of Da Thoroughbreds and, by the end of that decade, had released his first solo album. This means iLLBLISS is currently in his fourth decade as a rapper and so, he owes some responsibility to the tradition that made him who he is.  

He pays this homage forward on ‘Masterclass’, one of the most poignant records on Sideh Kai. The entire hook is phrased in a way that’s familiar to Hip-Hop fans, which is addressing the genre as a person, as Common most popularly did on his 1994 single, ‘I Used To Love H.E.R’. Like his colleague-in-rhymes, iLLBLISS frames his own confession with affectionate clarity:  

So I, will not give up on you  

So long as I breathe, will not give up on you  

So long as I write, so long as I walk  

So long as I’m fit, I won’t give up on you  

They try to change how I really feel about you  

For everytime money short, they blame it on you  

For everything I am today, I owe it all to you  

From the heart, Hip-Hop, I say thank you  

Last year, Hip-Hop celebrated 50 years of existence and iLLBLISS, who is now forty-five, embodies its influence in Nigeria. Many still fondly recall how he was presented the Soundcity Music Video Award by Nas in 2008, an honour that is even more noteworthy when one considers that iLLBLISS had barely made his mark as a solo act then. In many regards, he is a pioneer and he’s yet going strong, flowing with water-fresh assurance while maintaining the familial angle of his album. Yet another example of iLLBLISS’s insistence on tradition is his depiction of Igbo culture and values across his discography which, when paired with the discipline of Hip-Hop, has placed him in the Eastern region’s Mount Rushmore of rappers.  

Since the late 1990s and early 2000s, the South East has produced some of the most sterling rap voices we have ever heard. Emerging from this tradition is iLLBLISS, who was placed between two generations: that of Nigga Raw and MC Loph and that of Phyno. On ‘Masterclass’ he gives a shout-out to the pioneers, rapping: 

Attention lyricists, I hope you hear the mockery/ For so long we been dealing with the fuckery/ For so long, we been slept on and overlooked/ Now I look around the table, all my boys are overbooked/ Few of us found a way to keep the lights on/ Most of us got forgotten in the fucking struggle…the game never promises a pension/ No legacy or trace, of the architects/ Distorted history, playing up the misery / We had godfathers that paved the way for the youngings to brace up and start grabbing the microphone… 

Unsurprisingly, iLLBLISS is well versed in the history of Nigerian rap. When I ask about his forebears in the game, his response is elucidating, flowing down from the pioneering efforts of the SWAT Roots group, which was early-on affiliated with rappers such as Mode9, Terry Tha Rapman and OD, an influential posse with members from Jos and Kaduna. iLLBLISS recalls, in vivid grandiosity, how two days before his matriculation into university, he attended a show called Social Outburst. Most of the performances he saw were mimes, ‘not original music,’ he noted. However, one person—and his performance—really stood out.  

This guy went on stage and the lights went off. And when the lights came on, he was dressed in all black, in a robe, with a skull in the left hand and some chalk around his right eye and then he started to do some incantations: hey, dem ma ma pity pity eh, I’m a medicine man and then he started rhyming and that just blew me away; the beat was so Hip-Hop. That guy turned out to be a guy called Alfred Atungu aka Six Foot Plus. He was one of the founding members of SWAT Roots and I was going to meet him eventually in university and we became friends. That guy might not know it, but he inspired me so much to be a rapper; he inspired me to go and write original music.  

He also mentions The Black Masqueraders, who had a record titled ‘Pour Kerosene’. It was a soundtrack for a Tade Odigan movie called Out of Bounds; there’s also Lord of Ajasa, who he considers ‘the godfather of Yoruba rap’; and Nigga Raw, who ‘was doing the same thing in the South-East.’ According to iLLBLISS,​​ 

It just so happens that the South-East was more of a Highlife market and wasn’t a core Hip-Hop market. So, a lot of those founding fathers never got their flowers. I mean, Raw is fine and doing good, but when I look at all the traction—if there was no Raw, there would have been no Phyno; in fact, Raw introduced me to Phyno. There would be no Jeriq The Hussla; there would be no Zoro. So, it’s generational. I just feel like people get caught up in what’s new, what’s buzzing and then they totally forget the guys that created the framework for all of this. A lot of rappers were also disadvantaged; the reason why my life moved in a different trajectory is because I never did rap music alone. I always had day jobs; I would go to work, but in the evening, I would go and rap.