Kvng KiLa: Manifesting Destiny

 

Artby Goodluck Ataria

"People see a marital union as 'being held down', but for me, it’s more like 'stepping up to the plate'...." 

 "Who is KiLa?" desperate for answers, a mother spoke in a quizzical tone for the umpteenth time. I couldn't consider her chivvying pointless nor adjudge it the backwash of her paltry understanding of hip-hop culture, which confers upon a participant free rein for inventiveness and coinage rights. Of course, given her son's passionate devotion to the 'tribe', its mores could have been revealed to her – that coinage is a tradition in the performing arts. Besides, not many artists hang on to a legal name. All the same, mama KiLa was worried, and deservedly so.

 On another day laced with the appearance of routineness – a busy backdrop; pungent air due to burning refuse; and strange weather conditions that could make one doubt the legitimacy of a good weather forecast the day before – an event gave fitting credence to mama KiLa's deep misgivings. KiLa and I were at the core of the eye-opener.

 Upon conveying my need to depart the rapper's home, at which half my day was spent, his insistence on seeing me off came to the fore. Acting in a benevolent manner, he ensured we each had our own drink as we wandered breezily up the street, imitating the spontaneity and naivety of boyhood. Every topic we addressed, we addressed with complete abandon. At the time, we lived inconsequentially. 

Consequently, our plastic world led us into a black hole. This world was engrossing, and had us both lose touch with reality: KiLa passing his drink to me without the slightest hint of knowledge of the act. A short-stay citizen myself in this extraordinary world, I became a recipient of two drinks, equally without consciousness of the event. 

We eventually arrived at the exit of the street and signalled to an auto rickshaw driver to stop, who, after much fare negotiations, was pushed into accepting our offer and gestured at me to enter the vehicle, after which KiLa and I exchanged farewells. I headed for home. 

 Before long, the realisation that I had in my possession more drinks than I needed ensued – the extra one, of course, belonged to KiLa who, by the time I tried to call his attention to the situation, was already out of hearing. I then signalled to the cooperative driver to stop the vehicle one more time and immediately hotfooted it back into the street, shrieking KiLa's name. 

 "KiLa! KiLa! KiLa! Your drink! KiLa! KiLa! KiLa! Your drink, KiLa!" 

I soon gave up on realising that my casting about for KiLa's whereabouts was a futile attempt. KiLa was gone. 

 Trudging out of the street a second time, engulfed by a potpourri of emotions – on the one hand downcast seeing that KiLa's drink was with me, but on the other, gleeful as I, attributing the day's happening to the design of luck, fortuitously ended up with an extra drink – a moment of intense ponderation hit me. 

"Why did shouting 'KiLa' generate the kind of relatively shocking effect it did today? Could it have been the run, which loosely symbolises a getaway from danger, one practice earnestly observed by the inhabitants of Yenagoa? No, it couldn't have been that. Aha! It was the name 'KiLa'. It had to be the name!" 

And at that very juncture, the alignment of my train of thought with that of mama KiLa, in connection with her son's chosen career name, happened. 

 It's indeed not farfetched the proverbiality of a mother's duties and keeping an offspring out of harm's way will be, until hell freezes over, high on their list of priorities. Therefore, by casting doubt on the purpose of her son's career name, mama KiLa significantly operated within the ambience of her biological layout. 

'KiLa', a name self-evidently having a homophonous bond with 'killer', was the basis for her apprehension. On further reflection, it was also the grounds for the shamefaced look I wore as I tried to make my way to him. 

And while by dint of her natural inclination it's her place to brood over his safety, it can't be gainsaid, however, that mama KiLa, before and after said events, must have witnessed one way and another, the pride of [her son's] prosperity – the kind that owes its shine to the existence of the name 'KiLa'. 

 Prosperity, a conclusively subjective concept, flourishes within the scope of our individual consent. Definitions of prosperity are, for the most part, proposed in varying degrees. 

While to one prosperity becomes the expression of financial buoyancy, to another it could, in fact, indicate the attainment of spiritual excellence, or other pursuits that are proportionately self-serving.

Moreover, hinting at the adaptive nature of prosperity – its ability to survive disparate frameworks, it's an unspoken assumption that an entirely different reality encourages and rewards the aspirations for 'evil prosperity'. Nonetheless, in relation to KiLa's journey, we will usefully explore the deep waters of artistic prosperity. 

 Just moments after the announcement of the nominees for Best Rap Act Of The Year reverberated around the Bayelsa Musical Artiste Awards (BMAA) venue in 2019, KiLa's prosperity achieved a new coating following his emergence as winner of the category. 

With that outcome came laudatory words; the influx of new fans into a growing following; and the conversion of doubters to believers. There came also an increased intensity with which killjoys focused on him, hoping his win was rather a stroke of good fortune than the result of a preponderance of ambitious undertakings. And in the spirit of such deep-rooted pessimism, they looked forward to coming years to prove them right by exposing a career slope. 

 For hip-hop devotees tracking the progress of their State-based favourite stars, KiLa's win was perhaps regarded as a victory for the people, as it dovetails nicely with the mission of the community, which is to foster an environment that discovers, grooms and amplifies talents from underground obscurity to mainstream prominence. 

 For conventional observers, KiLa's triumph was looked on as the prevalent BMAA-year upheaval – the instigator of post-BMAA commentaries, the expected – that is by degrees shaping the ever-evolving reputation of one of the most significant award shows in the Niger Delta region.

 

 However one chooses to look at it, from KiLa's interpretation the crowning ultimately typifies the constancy of his career growth. It is one of those key wins that provides reinforcement for a journey carrying so much salience.  

  KiLa's true artistic flair, without equivocation, has consistently been regarded in an indisputable light, so by no stretch of the imagination can one be held to be ungraceful if they intimate that BMAA's recognition was only a seal of confirmation on a product already enjoying a massive positive consumers rating. And while I forbear from delving into its intricacies or ability to sternly influence, it appeared that nature had, all the while, prepared KiLa for that one moment – when his grip on kingship would become firmer. 

 To present a pointer to the idea of firmness, KiLa's radical acknowledgement of that which is important and that which distracts, and his commitment to acting accordingly, is approved. This holds especially true whenever memories of a treasured childhood become the focus of a trip to his past. He shows much reverence towards his past realities, towards when his father was yet alive, and towards the true feeling of deep regret at losing him.  

 Born in Nigeria into the truth of an oil-rich Bayelsan settlement, Bomo-Iyo Ikubofa Kelvin's [real name] early life mirrored that of children in his then vicinity; in fact, despite his immersion in the experiences that brand childhood, the struggle to maintain interpersonal relationships, particularly one with his father, stuck out a mile. In addition to that, for a father who stayed true to principles that ensured familial cohesion and survival, a mother representative of traditional values, young KiLa's choice of an exotic path proved to be an anomaly. Such a reality brought upon him serious consequences. One of such consequences was that a 2010 single signaling the commencement of his career, couldn't provide him with an avenue to his father's approval at first. 

But a turn of events lurked as the rapper grew in confidence and in the exploration of the essence of his gift. 

 In the course of time, as neighbourhood fame encircled him, and as the flames of admiration grew exponentially, it soon became a matter of the right courier before the heat finally arrived at his father's desk, further reinforcing the idea of man's inherent leaning towards the successful, even if acknowledging said success often suggested the death of a deeply held conviction. 

 Humans are by design interactive beings. Thus, it's habitual for us to hanker after essential relationships. A unique quality is our ability to socialise in standout fashion, well beyond the potential of other animals. On that account, recurrent in our yearnings for community are our yen to look outwards and towards others for fulfilment. 

But we often find ourselves in the doldrums as the results of these yearnings fail to meet expectations. Our experience of displeasure, understandably enough, also intensifies when our social partners are our own flesh and blood. Be that as it may, there was a key that opened the lock for some common ground, bridging the gulf between a tenderfoot of a rapper and an implacable and yet logical father. 

 When KiLa's attempt to interpersonally connect with his father failed, introspection came to the rescue. By encouraging an intrapersonal relationship and from it forming a creative outlet, not only did the rapper find himself but, in consequence, he also found an ally in his father. The antecedent to such a successful ceasefire and, in furtherance, father-son union, isn't peculiar to KiLa's case – tales of such nature abound in the generally companionless world of artistic pursuit, by all accounts. 

 The Mr. Hoods, the Nayomi Branchs, the Chiff Timzs and the Fireboys; the Payper Corleones, the Afro JCs, the Tiwa Savages and the MX-Nines; the Yawng Bosses, the Davidos, the Mr. Legends, the Wizkids and the Burna Boys of today all faced immoderate put-downs (either from internal or external factors) and had to begin their journeys to conquering those, by conquering themselves first. The results in many instances are internal victories – the eventual guarantors of external admiration and approval, which in turn create the ripple effect that influences an across-the-board positive change of attitude towards their works, from those they hold in high regard. 

 In a similar vein, when the neighborhood's demeanour towards KiLa's father gradually became of adoration – thanks to creative expression – he eventually succumbed to the allure of fathering a 'good son' and fostered the need to take an interest in KiLa's artistry and life. The second fresh start ushered in many teachable moments for both father and son. 

Kvng KiLa tells The Sleek Buzz this:

"We began to discuss a lot more and share moments. You know, before then, there were things he would tell me about that I didn't understand or want to understand, but all that changed – I started to see life from his perspective as a man. I started to appreciate the sacrifices he made for the family."

 Unfortunately, their newfound relationship was short-lived. It receded into the eternal distance and metamorphosed into nothingness for the living, only to be appreciated through the service of time travel. A severance of connection had materialised. To put it concisely, in 2016, KiLa's father passed on, and was grieved for by a devastated family. 

 A bereavement (especially of one who played the important role of a father), surely would leave a mark of lifelong irremediable brokenness on the living. There's no telling the extent to which grief would be expressed. Also, even though collectively a family might experiment with ways to combat the invasive wave of sadness, rarely do such experiments emit enough energy for substantial healing. More often than not, the possible course of action, therefore, would be for every member of the family to be allowed the duty of doing it alone, in their respective corners, far from the warmth of community. KiLa has since been on such a path to achieving this rather elusive feat. 

 On KiLa's journey to self-actualisation is with him a fine marriage of artistry, legacy and continuity. This help sustain strong sentiments by the rapper for a goal that obviously, will produce either heroism or lead to other directions that, most likely, are equally fulfilling. The realm of artistry has seen KiLa advance from the scrimmage for recognition and barely convenient performance slots to carving out a path for himself, inevitably owning a spot at the summit. 

 A spokesman for society, KiLa's artistic perseverance holds on to two projects – 2018's 'B.O.W.' and 2019's 'Lost Pages' – as solo artist and two other projects – 2019's '03:02:01' (with Mr. Legend) and 2020's 'With Love From Yentown' (with Erenna BlaQ & Nexuz P) – that have his contributions for creative synthesis.  

 Although the lifeblood of his career so far has been attributed to an impressive canon, KiLa, in some ways, has struck success with in-between singles. 'The Chant,' which combines the creative efforts of KiLa and fellow artist Mr. Hood, embodies one of the many instances of artistic finesse. Suffice it to say, however, that for all its glory, 'The Chant' was somewhat of an afterthought. 

KiLa speaks about that collaboration:

"Mr. Hood and I were discussing the events taking place in South Africa and how Nigerians are the target of xenophobic actions there. We ended up making a song to address it, even though we hadn't planned for it beforehand. Not that we hadn't thought about it – just not in the way it turned out." 

 It's also noteworthy that from the genesis of the industry to its current state, a hit-singles drought has had no bearing on its development, especially when we consider the many registered successes, to which, for obvious reasons, pop stars lay well-earned claim. Pop stars have racked up the most solo and collaborative hits, leaving hip-hop stars to settle for spasmodic moments at the table. It's not surprising, therefore, that the importance of 'The Chant' to the culture lingers. 

 Upon its release 'The Chant' bolstered conversations throughout the industry, providing an impetus for opinions about collaborations in the hip-hop community – a movement that gave birth to Mr. Legend, one of KiLa's devoted protégés. 

The upshot of Mr. Legend's desire to replicate the artistic essence of the one on whom his habitual adulation focuses, to put it in a nutshell, is his felicitous arrival on the scene. The artist who was more or less a looker-on, only admiring the game, its players and principles, wanted more. Inevitably, Mr. Legend's high opinion of KiLa's artistry built him the stairway needed for an auspicious career, consequently bestowing validity on KiLa's possession of an uncommon kind of prosperity – the prosperity of influence.

"Mr. Legend is one guy who gets me a lot. It all began from his admiration for my works and deciphering lines of my verses. There are things I would say on a song, certain that nobody would instantly decipher them, but he would. It's insane! And one more thing I have to say: when Mr. Legend and I made '03:02:01,' that was his first attempt at recording. I didn't bother to verify whether or not he could pull it off."

 In the realm of legacy, KiLa's creative acquisitions are suggestive of a move focused on the future, and on what will be left long after his departure from the game even though, technically speaking, he exists as one, and, as likely as not, his actions traceable to fatherly instructions. 

The general rule of thumb, in his desire to produce a legacy of his, is that KiLa must first provide those after him with wisdom that is the product of his darkest days and brightest nights; wisdom that is the product of his biggest failures and smallest successes; and more importantly, he must teach the strength of purpose required of one to overcome major setbacks. On the face of it, he seems primed for the assignment. 

 Between shouldering the business of dispensing creative material and navigating the treacherous domain of entrepreneurship, KiLa's interests in family are widely known. A father himself, the rapper deploys every available tool of fatherhood as he guides his son, only this time in slight contrast to what arose between him and his late father. 

He speaks on that as well:

"You know... a lot of what my father taught me and the lessons they carry, I got them late. And I wish it wasn't so. That is why I consider the relationship between me and my son important, especially at this point in our lives, when we can still enjoy each other's company. I hope he learns early, what I learned late." 

In a move to consolidate his resolve to keep a tight rein on all weighty facets of his life, the rapper recently got married. A decision a few of his colleagues have opined could have deleterious effects on his career. But in spite of the prevailing opinions, KiLa takes a dissimilar view. 

"People see a marital union as 'being held down' but for me, it’s more like 'stepping up'. Stepping up and being a man and handling everything that concerns you as one. Now I’ve stepped up my relationship, it’s high time I applied that to the music and business." 

Stepping into the realm of continuity, which leads this work closer to its end, a synopsis is made. KiLa's journey, for the first time, is looked into with forbearance, freeing him of the consequences that ordinarily trail misdemeanours. His approach to life is observed with searchlights, not in an attempt to nose out his failings and ridicule him, but that in discovering and learning from them we're also reminded of our humanity, and how not out of the ordinary we ourselves are. 

 By reason of the rapper's decision to stick at 'KiLa', a name that instantly brings to mind 'Killer', which means a person that kills, and chalking up a number of successes performing under it, we become aware of our capability for going against the tide. We are not only reminded of our proclivities to chart uncharted territory, but also that the hardihood for such brave endeavours must be at the ready. And finally, we're encouraged not to view life as a stamp of finiteness, or as a giver of numberable resources when, in reality, life bares all, allowing us to plump for our respective desires from the infiniteness of its generosity.