Napoli like Lagos: How Fuji became a global sound, by Saheed Aderinto
I have been in Italy since Monday on the invitation of the Dan David Prize to give a presentation on the politics of history as part of the 2025 awards ceremony. Formal announcement of the winners will be made later! As Omo ogbon, I used the opportunity to shoot additional scenes for “Global Fuji,” Episode III of The Fuji Documentary.
When Sikiru Ayinde Barrister first introduced Fuji to the global world in 1978, he couldn’t have predicted the consequences of his action. This evening, from New York to Chicago to Houston, from London to Dublin to Birmingham, live Fuji performances will take place in lounges, restaurants, and event centers, mirroring similar practices in southwestern Nigeria where the Fuji sound and culture originally came from. The performers at these events are not Nigeria-based artists visiting abroad; rather, they are diaspora Fujicians living and working abroad.
To many people, the introduction of Fuji into global soundscape is just about entertainment. But to multiple generations from southwestern Nigeria, it’s about the dialectics of seeing and being seen in global culture. Decades before the Internet connected the world in an unprecedented manner, Fuji artists, through what I have termed, “Fuji travelogues,” that is, lyrical compositions about travel adventures, were the window into the global world.
Is it not ironic that Alabi Pasuma’s “Napoli Like Lagos,” recorded in Napoli, thousands of air miles away from Nigeria, remains one the best recorded Fuji live performances? This recording doesn’t depart from the established pattern of Fuji travelogues laid by Sikiru Ayinde Barrister in the sense that it details global adventure. What it does differently is “parallel urbanism” that is, comparing Lagos to Napoli, not just because of the similarities of diaspora and homeland practices, but also in the resemblances of people, places, and behavior. “If you come to Napoli, you will think you are in Lagos,” Pasuma renders a visual narrative of comparative urbanism.
The connection between home and the diaspora and parallel globality are not the only reasons “Napoli Like Lagos” occupies a strategic position in Fuji history. It’s also the technology of recording—advanced sound separation. Thankfully, I interviewed DJ Yemo, the sound engineer who recorded “Napoli Like Lagos,” during my trip.
Among other things, Fujicians’ global adventure expanded the compositional techniques as Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian words and expressions entered Fuji. When Wasiu Ayinde sang “e pada s’ori autostrada” (move back to autostrada), his percussionists followed immediate with fast tempo beats. Interestingly, most people don’t know that “autostrade” in Italian means “highway,” where cars are required to speed. Fast moving cars on highway became a metaphor for high tempo Fuji sound!
How a sound that was begging for inclusion into world music in the 1970s later established its irresistibility in global soundscape is fascinating. This is what I tried to uncover in Chapter 5 of my forthcoming book on the history of Fuji and in “Global Fuji,” Episode III of “The Fuji Documentary.”
Yours Sincerely in Fuji:
Ìsòlá awón bí ogbón
The Okà ò sò’fò of Ibadanland
–Aderinto is a Professor of History and African and African Diaspora Studies, Florida International University.
