By Chinwe Ohanele
We have come such a long way from the VCDs of early Afrobeats. Global distribution has transitioned from songs burned and shared from friend to friend, to a quick search on Spotify or Apple music. What was once an industry dominated by West Africa (Nigeria, then Ghana) has expanded and continues to broaden to a sound mutating and evolving as it touches the East, South, Central, and Northern Africa.
This genre has given birth to other sounds, has barreled forward creating a path for others to replicate from local appreciation to eventual global distribution. Our love for Afrobeats, the affinity for the staccato, bass, dance-ready tunes, and sultry lyrics, has opened the door for music from the continent to begin a revolution.
Yes, I say “begin” because we are only scratching the surface. In a few decades, the efforts of a few will blossom in a similar way that Hip-Hop, RnB, jazz, and the like did for African-American culture. With this momentum, how, then, do we preserve the drive forward when those on the inside and the outside are quick to use Intellectual Property tools like trademark and copyright to turn a cultural movement into a global commodity that only a few can control, manage, and exploit?
Some may argue that DJ Abrantee was in some way ensuring that the term Afrobeats UK was not misused or appropriated by outsiders to the culture. At least, some might say, this is not like the Dutch company that patented the flour used to make injera, or like Heinz trying to trademark the word ‘Jollof’. Those are clear examples of cultural appropriation or at the bare minimum the commodification of cultural goods by an entity that is outside of the culture for pure capitalistic gain.
That being said, we might still feel uneasy about a single person acting as the gatekeeper or protector of cultural intellectual property. What then are the alternatives? How can communities of culture identify terms and protect them? Should there be a public interest group tasked with scouring the world for terms, phrases, and other elements of culture being legally bound by individuals and exploited for commercial gain and stop it? While this may be a common practice for artifacts it is not a widely accepted paradigm for intangible goods or products.
Should countries look to their Ministries of Culture to identify and file for and protect geographic indicators for specific elements of culture? Again, while this mechanism might work for food, wine, agricultural goods, there was no intention to protect intellectual property in this way.
Should the African Union step in with a nuanced framework Intellectual Property framework and establish another class of intellectual property taking into account these examples of intangible cultural assets that hold potential commercial value? Perhaps the answer is a combination of all, or more of a short term, mid-term, and long-term approach that can address all the complexities of the commercial side of culture. Perhaps the answer is none of these at all.
With every evolution of Black culture, whether in the US or abroad, we see over and over again that the thing that causes rage and anger is when Black creatives are written out of history. When their names are removed from the works they create, when they are not given credit for the work that they have done. This is the dark side of Intellectual Property. But if that core failing can be rectified, culture can be enjoyed by the masses.
In the case of Afrobeats UK, it is clear that the genre is, and has always been, intended as a classification, a sort of signpost to signify the source of the sound, the inspiration for the core sensibility of the music. Like so many other genres, that isn’t the result of one or two artists; music is a living breathing organism that shifts and transforms as artists create and continue to create. Therefore, we must set Afrobeats UK free to do just that. If we intend to treat it as a geographic identifier of a sound. Whatever mechanism we finally decide is the most appropriate way to protect its history, its sensibilities, and its relationship with the continent of Africa, freedom must be at the center of that solution.
I want my children to have a chance to fall in love with Afrobeats the same way I did. Watching my love evolve from the scratchy early sounds I listened to in my walkman, to the smooth, confident sound that captures me, wraps me in memories of dance floors full of beautiful women in Ankara, and proud men gleefully celebrating the richness of their unique identities–That Afrobeats must be allowed to expand beyond us all and take its rightful place in the world as a movement, a force, and a sound synonymous with magic.