“I learned that I have to sing in my language to get to my people.” - Wiyaala (Ghana) 2/4

We are in conversation with Wiyaala, the Lionness of Africa and global music icon from Funsi in the Upper West Region of Ghana. In the first part, she shared memories from her childhood, as well as the people and spaces that inspired her journey.

In this second part, she tells us about launching her career, making bold choices about language and appearance, and the challenges she faced as she carved out a place for herself in Ghana and globally.

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You are described as the only woman in the world singing in Sissala. What inspired this decision, and is this tied to the concept of home that you talked about earlier?

The concept of home, yes. It was an intentional decision, and I think I was inspired by Madonna, but not really influenced by her real life, the way she dressed, or the way she talked. I don't think I've ever really been that influenced to copy somebody so much that I became them. She inspired me through her music and her dancing, but when I started singing, I was nothing like her. My voice was different. And I was singing in my language.

I already spoke English and I could write in English. So when I wrote these songs from Madonna, I had to sing them in English. I later started singing only English songs because unfortunately, I didn’t have access to the videos of any African musician that sang in their own language. I didn't even know the likes of Angélique Kidjo and Brenda Fassie. I had never heard of them. I never saw them. All I saw was African Americans or white Americans singing. So it took me a long time before I saw African women also singing with more power. There was no internet available at the time, and so I could not access any videos. The only time I heard African women singing was with the Shaka Bundu Girls. Those were the tunes that we danced to in the village.

So I started singing in English, and it was good. There were really some nice people who encouraged me, but they only started with giving me compliments. They would say, “Wow! You have something good. Keep going. You can sing in English but you sound so much like Celine Dion and the pop singers around the world. I don't think anybody can help you in this part of our world. If only you were born in America, you would be like Celine Dion.” That’s what I was always hearing. I think they meant well when they said that, but part of me was like “no, I don't have to go to America to make it. You guys must also appreciate what I'm doing.”

Was that when you made the decision to sing in Sissala?

At some point, I decided to go to the studio and record my songs. I didn't have any money, so I told the sound engineer that I would sing if they needed a backup singer. In return, they would record my songs. He and a producer that was there told me that my voice was really good. He also said the same thing about being in America. But then, he also asked me to sing in my language so that they could get a feel of that, too. I listened to his advice and I sounded even better. And that was it!

I learned that I have to sing in my language to get to my people. If I don't sing in the language that they understand, they'll probably not even realize the talent that I have. So when I started singing in my language, people from the villages and towns around were so happy. And they would talk about the message in my music, too. That was when the magic happened within my community, and I just blew up locally. Of course not with money, but I was popular. And everybody was like, “Wiyaala, you can sing!”

What were the messages in your song at the time? It seems there was a strong connection there.

For some reason, I just chose to sing about good things… education. I even did some songs about when I was asked to take my education seriously. So I ended up becoming the “goody-goody singer”. The first time I tried to sing about sexy songs, I got a bit of backlash, but gradually people just got used to me and said “she's an entertainer.”

So, some of the decisions were deliberate. It got to a point where I just knew that I had to sing in my language if I really wanted to let my people feel my talent and support me. Then when I got the chance, I started adding the English which I was already doing. And then they knew, “she's not going anywhere. She's here with us”.

What was it like moving from becoming popular in your community and having your people appreciate your music, to becoming the global icon you are now?

Well, it became the opposite. When I left my community and I kept singing in my language, the sounds and rhythms were amazing. I was lucky to meet my manager John, who decided to invest in the sound because it was great. But after we played for a while, the production needed to step up. And he said, “your voice is as good as any other artists around the world. You need some investment in the sound. If it's a local production that you are doing, we will follow that same production and rhythms from your country, but we'll bring it up to international standards.”

With that, I got to the bigger cities, even within Ghana. However, a new problem came up. People told me, “we don't understand you. The songs are nice, but we don't have a clue what you're talking about, so we can’t play them for you.” Now when you go abroad, they don't care if they don't understand the language. They can just feel the beauty of the art through my voice, the emotion, and the instrumentation. And to top it off, I just came out as an African woman who wasn't even trying to be anybody. I was not imitating anybody. I'm just here to be happy and make music, make friends. I'm just a simple Sissala girl who is following her dreams and I'm hoping I'll meet nice people like me. So, the people abroad got it quickly.

And that wasn’t the same in Ghana?

In some parts of my country, people said no unless I sang in their languages as well, not just English. I realized that it’s the usual “okay, you're not from this area or from the same ethnic group”. And this is something they do amongst each other… We all do it in Ghana. It’s only recently that people are giving up the idea, and thinking “if we are all saying let's stop the tribalism, it starts now. We have to stop and just enjoy the music.” So it wasn't really a problem on the international platform. In my region, I was also very popular. But it was not the same in the bigger city of my country.

And then gradually, the people realised that I was out there singing, and perhaps started feeling embarrassed that people from outside Ghana were singing and dancing to the rhythms of our own country when they weren’t. I think that helped to change the perception of many people in Ghana. At the end of the day, everybody just accepted me for who I am. And thanks to the education I was encouraged to take seriously, I was able to communicate these songs on the stage and explain them to the crowd in English, which is widely spoken around the world.

This helped me and today, I can choose to sing in English or sing in my language. I can still express myself. This is why I always tell every young girl: no matter the talent you have, get as much information and education as you can. It may not only come from the classroom, but get it and add it to your craft. It will take you far.

You talk about the initial reception in the bigger city in Ghana, and how this may have been because of where you come from: Northern Ghana. Do you think that the shift in relation to your music has also influenced a change in perceptions? Would you say that your music is helping to bridge the divide?

Northern Ghana has always been seen to be the poorest among all the regions of the country. In fact, it was - and is still - considered the youngest region. So it's like the youngest always gets the last of everything. Unless you are the parents’ favorite, which means somebody who is part of making the decisions is from your region, so you’re prioritized. Unfortunately, the North always seems to get the last of everything that has to do with development.

Things have changed quite a lot now, but during the time I came out as an artist, that really affected me. Unfortunately, for the few northerners that started singing, many of them didn't go to school and could not speak English very well to express themselves. It was very obvious during the interviews, especially on TV, when they would speak and you could immediately tell that they did not have a good formal education. But when they express themselves in their own languages, the messages in their music are full of wisdom. You know that they are intelligent, but they didn't get the chance to go to school. And there was a lot of poverty.

So when I was coming out, people expected me to be the same. Unfortunately, I was not the northerner that they had in mind. When I started talking, everybody was quiet. So, I used the opportunity to also educate people about the North. It will shock you that there were people in Ghana who didn't think I was a Ghanaian. People in the entertainment industry thought I was born in Nigeria, South Africa, Togo, or Burkina Faso because they didn't even know there was a place called Funsi in the first place. All they know is the North, and when they say “North” it means one town or one region; that’s Tamale and we all spoke Dagbani. They had no clue that we have four northern regions, and we all speak different languages. The cultures are similar, but so different. But they almost boxed me into one: “You’re a northerner, so you must speak indigenous Hausa.” I realized that this was my opportunity to educate many Ghanaians who don't know anything about where I'm from.

And have you seen any changes?

I started projecting the North a lot. We are getting better. And I also realized that every time I went back home, I should let people know where I came from. There's nothing embarrassing about it. Let everybody know your roots so that at the end of the day, we know that we are all the same and we all start from somewhere. I'm just an ordinary girl that decided to go for it.

Initially, I took it for granted. I'd go home and just live my life, and when it was time to go out and perform, I would do it. Then one day I got back home and I showed my house; everybody was shocked. It was my opportunity to show the rest of the world and Ghana that this is Wa, it's not Tamale. Tamale is different; the Upper East is different. But I always want to show it in a good light. Because if I'm preaching peace and I'm not peaceful myself, what am I doing?

In the third part of our conversation, Wiyaala shares her experience as a female artist shining in a male-dominated industry, her ideas for the growth and development of women in music, and her definitions of her feminism. Click here to continue reading.

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