The news of Chief Mike Ejeagha’s passing recently, though not entirely unexpected given his venerable age, still hit me with a profound sense of loss and what I would call miserabilism. For a Yoruba man like myself, whose musical palate knows no tribal boundaries, Ejeagha wasn’t just an Igbo musician; he was a maestro, a storyteller, a cultural bridge-builder whose melodies have long resonated in the deepest chambers of my soul. His passing is a poignant reminder that while we mourn the physical absence of a legend, his music, like all truly great art, remains immortal.
My personal journey with Mike Ejeagha’s music began relatively recently, ignited by the “Gwo Gwo Gwo Ngwom” musical fever that swept across Nigeria last year. Suddenly, this infectious tune was everywhere – on social media, blaring from speakers, echoing through the streets. Intrigued by the pervasive buzz and the sheer joy it brought, I found myself drawn to my Apple Music library, eager to dig deeper into the artist behind this captivating sound. What I unearthed was a treasure trove, a rich legacy of storytelling through song that immediately captivated me.
As a guitarist myself, I was particularly struck by the simplicity and folkloristic sound of his guitar. In an era often dominated by complex arrangements and virtuosic displays, Ejeagha’s playing was a masterclass in understated brilliance. His guitar wasn’t about flashy solos; it was about laying down a foundation, a rhythmic and melodic bedrock that perfectly complemented his narratives. There was an honesty, a raw, unvarnished truth in his voice and the seemingly simple yet profound arrangements that immediately drew me in. Growing up in a household where I.K. Dairo (my Ijebu-Jesha kinsman from the same Abowo Owu compound), King Sunny Ade and Ebenezer Obey were gods, Ejeagha offered a different, equally compelling narrative. His music, often steeped in proverbs, fables, and everyday life, transcended language barriers. Even if I didn’t always catch every nuanced Igbo word, the emotion, the rhythm, the poignant melody, and the inherent wisdom of his storytelling always cut through.
It’s easy to talk about music as a universal language, a cliché often thrown around without true appreciation for its depth. But in Mike Ejeagha’s case, it’s not just a cliché; it’s a living, breathing reality. His compositions, rich with the folklore and philosophical underpinnings of the Igbo people, found a home in my Yoruba heart. I’d often find myself humming along, tapping my feet to his unique brand of Akuko n’Egwu – storytelling with music. This wasn’t merely about appreciating a different sound; it was about recognising shared human experiences, shared wisdom, and shared joy, all wrapped in a distinct cultural package. And the idea of being a journalist and a storyteller, his music resonates deeply with me.
What was truly heart-warming to witness was the embrace of “Gwo Gwo Gwo Ngwom” by the younger generation of Igbos. In an era often dominated by Afrobeats and contemporary sounds, here was a classic Highlife tune, brimming with traditional instrumentation and Ejeagha’s signature vocal style, captivating the youth. It wasn’t just a nostalgic throwback; it was a discovery, a connection to their roots, a realization of the depth and richness of their own cultural heritage through the lens of one of its greatest exponents. Social media was awash with videos of young people dancing, creating skits, and expressing their newfound appreciation for “Baba Ejeagha.” This wasn’t just a hit song; it was a cultural reawakening. Baba Ejeagha must have been happy being alive to see his music rise to the top of the chart many years after and embraced by not just his Igbo tribesmen but by his fellow countrymen of Nigeria. What a triumphant feeling he must have felt! What national honour is better than this?
This widespread embrace, particularly by young Igbos, perfectly illustrates the timelessness of his music. It showed that good music, irrespective of its era or origin, possesses an intrinsic quality that resonates across generations. Ejeagha’s lyrics, often imbued with life lessons, humour, and social commentary, found new relevance in contemporary times. His ability to weave intricate narratives into captivating melodies is a rare gift, and “Gwo Gwo Gwo Ngwom” was a shining example of this prowess.
For me, his music transcended the geographical and tribal lines that too often divide us in Nigeria. When I listen to “Gwo Gwo Gwo Ngwom” or “Ome Ka Agu” or “Akuko N’egwu (Original Vol.1) which I first heard at Pennymart Supermarket owned by an Igbo, or any of his other masterpieces, I don’t hear “Igbo music” in a limiting sense; I hear good music. I hear the universal language of human experience – joy, sorrow, love, struggle, wisdom – all articulated with a unique voice and rhythm that is both distinctly Igbo and universally appealing.
EJEAGHA’S LEGACY
Mike Ejeagha’s legacy is not just in the countless albums he released or the stages he graced. His legacy is in the way his music has touched lives across Nigeria and beyond, breaking down barriers and fostering appreciation for our diverse cultural tapestry. He was a storyteller par excellence, a bard who used music as his medium to preserve history, teach morality, and simply entertain. He reminded us that there is profound beauty and wisdom in our traditional narratives, and that these stories, when told with authenticity and passion, will always find an audience.
As we bid farewell to this musical giant, we can take solace in the fact that his melodies will continue to echo, his stories will continue to inspire, and his spirit will continue to dance in the hearts of all who appreciate true artistry. Mike Ejeagha, the “Gentleman of Highlife,” may have transitioned, but his music, like a timeless river, flows on, enriching every soil and every soul it touches. He was proof or evidence to the fact that indeed, music is the ultimate universal language. And for that, from this Ghana-born Yoruba man to the late Igbo legend, we say thank you.