In the world of music and identity, few debates generate as much passion among Nigerians as the question of whether certain globally renowned artists should be claimed as “Nigerian achievements.” The conversation often comes up around the name Sade Adu, the enigmatic and widely celebrated British-Nigerian singer whose soulful music, timeless style, and unique artistry have made her one of the most successful female artists in the history of British music. Yet, when Nigerians bring up Sade in conversations about national pride, awards, and Grammy history, the matter quickly becomes complicated.
The key point, and one that needs to be underscored over and over, is that Sade Adu is British. She was born Helen Folasade Adu in Ibadan, Nigeria in 1959 to a Nigerian father and a British mother. However, by the time she was four, her parents had separated, and she relocated to the United Kingdom where her mother raised her. From then on, the entirety of her upbringing, education, musical development, and eventual global stardom was rooted firmly in Britain, not Nigeria. This is why she has made it abundantly clear throughout her career that her achievements, accolades, and recognitions belong to Britain, not Nigeria. She has never positioned herself as a Nigerian artist, and in fact, she has consciously distanced herself from such associations.
This point is particularly relevant when people attempt to argue over the first Nigerian to win a Grammy Award. Sade has never won a Grammy “for Nigeria.” She may have Nigerian heritage, but she represents the United Kingdom. The distinction is important. The first Nigerian to win a Grammy remains Babatunde Olatunji, the legendary drummer and cultural ambassador who won in 1991 for Best World Music Album. That Grammy was for his album “Planet Drum,” which he worked on with Mickey Hart of the Grateful Dead. Olatunji’s contribution was grounded in his authentic Nigerian drumming heritage, deeply rooted in Yoruba culture, and his award is a genuine point of pride for Nigeria.
When people attempt to ascribe Sade’s achievements to Nigeria, it diminishes the very real legacies of those like Olatunji, Burna Boy, and Tems, who have proudly carried the Nigerian flag on the international stage. Tems, for instance, made history as the first female Nigerian artiste to win a Grammy Award. Her Grammy came in 2023 for her contribution to Future’s hit track “Wait for U” featuring Drake, which won in the category of Best Melodic Rap Performance. Unlike Sade, Tems has been explicit about her Nigerian identity, her Lagos roots, and her representation of the country in her artistry. Similarly, Burna Boy, who won the Grammy for Best Global Music Album in 2021, has consistently celebrated Nigeria and Africa in his music, branding himself unapologetically as an African Giant.
It is also necessary to recall the reasons why Sade has deliberately distanced herself from Nigeria. According to well-documented accounts, she had a deeply traumatic experience when she returned to Nigeria for her father’s funeral in Ekiti. The events of that fateful day were enough to scar her and lead to a disowning of her Nigerian ties. For anyone who has gone through personal tragedy linked with a place, it is not difficult to understand why they may no longer wish to be associated with it. To some, her decision may feel harsh, but it is her personal choice and one that deserves respect. Nobody is obliged to claim a nationality or community that they no longer feel connected to, especially if painful experiences shaped that decision. As the writer of this commentary points out, na by force to be Nigerian?
Despite this, Nigerians often insist on claiming Sade as “theirs” because of her Nigerian father. But the reality is that for the majority of her 64 years on earth, 60 of them have been spent in the United Kingdom. Her mother is British, her formative years were spent in England, and her music career blossomed entirely under the British system. Every recognition she has ever received, from Grammy Awards to Billboard honors to critical acclaim, has been as a British artist. She has been honored by the British establishment as well, being appointed Officer of the Order of the British Empire (OBE) in 2002 and then elevated to Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE) in 2017. These are clear markers of how she and her country of identification view her. Now, the question to those insisting on calling her Nigerian is simple: show the equivalent national honor or recognition given to her by Nigeria. None exists. And none should be expected, because she has never sought that association.
The temptation to forcefully include Sade Adu under the umbrella of Nigerian achievements reveals something deeper about the Nigerian tendency to latch onto diasporic success stories, often in desperation to validate national pride. Nigerians are incredibly talented, and countless artists, writers, and athletes have broken global boundaries while proudly waving the Nigerian flag. Yet, there seems to be an insatiable appetite to also claim people who do not identify with the country, even when those people make it clear that they are not interested in such identification. This phenomenon has been humorously described here as the work of “tanawebis,” people who run around trying to forcibly attach Nigerian identity to global figures whether those figures want it or not.
But perhaps it is time for Nigerians to let go of that mentality. Celebrate your real heroes. Honor those who have taken the Nigerian identity with pride into international spaces. Respect the achievements of Pa Babatunde Olatunji, Tems, and Burna Boy, who have all etched Nigeria’s name into Grammy history. Applaud the countless others in literature, sports, and the arts who have proudly worn the green-white-green. Recognize Sade Adu for the phenomenal artist that she is, but do not claim her as a Nigerian icon, because she herself has made it clear that she is not.
At the same time, it is important not to vilify Sade Adu for her choice. She is one of the most private and elusive stars of her generation, rarely granting interviews or making public appearances, yet her music continues to resonate globally. She has sold over 75 million records worldwide, her voice remains iconic, and her legacy as one of Britain’s greatest female artists is secured. Nigerians can admire her, listen to her music, and even draw inspiration from her artistry, but there is no need to rewrite her identity or ignore her own expressed wishes. She is British, of Nigerian descent, but not Nigerian in her identity, career, or recognition. That is not a bad thing; it is simply the truth.
Identity is a deeply personal matter. Just as Nigerians expect respect when they assert their national identity abroad, the same respect must be extended to someone like Sade when she asserts that she is British. Attempting to force her into a Nigerian box is disrespectful, not just to her but also to the Nigerians who have genuinely carried the nation’s name with pride on the global stage. When you respect her choice, you also create space to properly celebrate those who have embraced their Nigerian heritage openly and used it as a driving force in their careers.
So, let us draw the line clearly. Sade Adu is British. All her awards, honors, and recognitions belong to Britain. She has consciously projected herself as British, and her life story backs that up. She spent only a handful of years in Nigeria, and most of her six decades on this earth have been in the UK. If Nigerians feel slighted by her lack of identification with the homeland, they should remember the tragic personal experience that pushed her further away from that identity. She has her reasons, and they deserve empathy. But what should not continue is the persistent attempt to drag her into Nigeria’s Grammy or cultural pride narratives.
Na by force to be Nigerian? The answer is no. If someone does not want to associate with you, it is not by force for you to associate with them. Nigerians should focus instead on uplifting the artists and legends who do want that association, who are proud to represent the nation, and who wear their roots with joy and honor. In doing so, they give those figures the spotlight they truly deserve and prevent confusion about who is or isn’t the first Nigerian to achieve certain milestones.
In conclusion, Sade Adu is one of the greatest British female artists in history, and her artistry deserves all the celebration it gets. But she is not a Nigerian music icon. That title belongs to others who have earned it both through their heritage and their open identification with Nigeria. Respect Sade for who she is, and respect Tems, Burna Boy, and Babatunde Olatunji for the legacies they have created in Nigeria’s name. Celebrate them, hold them up as examples, and be proud of what they have accomplished. That is where Nigeria’s focus should lie.
