Before she ever stepped onto international stages draped in regal beadwork and buffalo horn braids, Wiyaala was a little girl drumming in a northern Ghanaian church and dancing under the moonlight with her community. Today, she is one of Africa’s most distinctive voices – a fearless performer, cultural preservationist, and gender equality advocate.
Her songs are stitched from many tongues – Sissala, Waala, English – and her costumes speak before she sings, echoing both ancestry and revolution. In her world, fashion is a flag, rhythm is resistance, and joy is a tool sharper than anger.
Ahead of her performance in Sofia on May 17th – part of this year’s Africa Day celebration, presented by Afrikaia, Club PAVE, and Alarma Punk Jazz – Wiyaala speaks with us about ancestral joy, sonic memories, legacy, and the energy to create.
What visual or sonic memory from your childhood still guides your artistry today – something you return to when you need grounding or inspiration?
My earliest memories are from Funsi, where I grew up. Sometimes the community would gather under the moonlight – singing, drumming, dancing, telling stories. It was so fun and carefree. My song Siiko tells of this – how that simple kind of fun is something communities should not forget. We didn’t have access to TV or the internet in those days, and we didn’t miss it at all.
My second memory was when I was four years old in church with my mother, who was a chorister; at any opportunity, I’d be beating a drum, apparently with such energy and enthusiasm that people would laugh at me. I didn’t mind at all!
We have a saying: “You don’t know who you are unless you know where you came from.” These simple things underpin my outlook.
Your music flows seamlessly between Sissala, Waala, and English. Do you think in one language when composing, or do the languages come to you with different emotional textures?
This is a very interesting question! I’m not conscious of any process I use to choose a particular language. Sometimes it’s an obvious choice – the song is an adaptation of a traditional song in one of the languages. For example, Village Sex is based on a traditional Sissala song sung at bachelorette parties. I put Pidgin English into the middle part to introduce West African humour so that Western ears would have a clue what the song was about.
A song like Leno, which has three languages, is different. I think in English for the melody, and in my native languages for the emotion. There is not much privacy for young lovers in an African village, so the song was born out of that feeling when people want to be romantically alone with someone they love.
You design your own costumes. How do your fashion choices visually “speak” the same language as your music?
I do it because I enjoy the creativity and because they are unique and consistently themed with the traditions of my culture. But more than that, they also give out the message that “This is Africa now, not just yesterday.”
Just as my music blends folk and Afro-pop, my dresses signify both the village and the global stage. My hairstyles are also designed to make a statement. When I wear my hair shaped like buffalo horns, it’s not just style – it’s power. Owning plenty of cattle traditionally symbolises wealth and resilience. It’s where I come from, and I’m proud of it.
If a photographer had to capture “Wiyaala, the spirit,” what elements must be in that frame – emotionally, culturally, and visually?
Above all, it’s about energy. Wiyaala means “the doer” in Sissala. Without energy, there is nothing that can be done, started, or accomplished. Emotionally, my favourite photos depict happiness and positivity.
Culturally, it’s best if I am dressed in a way that gives context to my African roots.
The best images should pulse with energy – like you can feel my persona through the image. Africa is alive and happening!
Art often comes from tension. How do you reconcile being a voice of resistance and an ambassador of joy in the same body of work?
It’s not a contradiction. I have sung against child marriage and abuse because I’ve seen those things in my community. I’m happy to say things are getting better – not because of me, but because of many men and women who want better things for the community.
As for joy – that’s a weapon! My song Siiko mourns lost traditions but also celebrates the moonlight gatherings of my childhood.
Resistance without joy may be just anger; joy without resistance ignores the battle. I do both because we all do – we laugh through pain and adversity, and dance through hardship.
When you return to your hometown or travel through rural Ghana, what stories or reactions remind you that your music is doing more than entertaining – it’s empowering?
I never set out to be a role model. As a young person, I never realised that having a public face would mean becoming influential. But it’s the “doing” that makes the difference.
I won a national TV reality show in 2012. I think it was the first time someone from our region did something like that. Then people from my community saw me on TV and traveling internationally. And then I went back home and built “The Lioness Kingdom” in Funsi – an arts centre including a community radio station, a guest house, and a restaurant. They saw that a “small girl” from their community had broken the cycle of restricted horizons. It gave them hope that they, too, could do something to better their lives.
The girls also saw that I had not married early in the traditional way and had babies. I believe it’s made some of them (and their parents) think more independently. It’s made them realise that there are choices. They don’t have to get pregnant in their teens. They can continue to get educated and follow their own dreams.
Having worked with artists across continents, what’s one sound or visual motif from outside Africa that surprised you by how well it combined with your own?
Some people think I’ve abandoned my roots by mixing traditional Africa with modern Western music. Are they not the same people who have upgraded their talking drums to the latest smartphones, or happily buy a Toyota in preference to a donkey? I laugh at such nonsense.
It’s not a problem for me, because I have performed in front of different races in different countries, and what I see is a mutual understanding that I am there to entertain, and they are there to be entertained. No problems so far!
As for combining – everything combines and influences. Not just music. So it’s a natural process.
Would you ever consider releasing a photo book or short film that visually narrates the journey of your albums? What would that look like?
No, I don’t think so. It’s not the right time to look back. I still have to look forward. Maybe one day in the future it might be the right time.
What do you want a future African girl to feel when she sees an image of you on stage in full regalia – power, pride, freedom, or something else entirely?
As a small girl I used to dream. I would imagine myself on stage, giving interviews and so on. But it’s not all that. It’s been said many times that it’s better to travel than to arrive.
Ultimately, my goal is to successfully grow “The Lioness Kingdom”. That said, I want that African girl to enjoy the performance – and later, to think in a quiet moment: If someone like Wiyaala can do it, I can also do it.
Be a midwife, a submarine designer, a good wife and mother – or whatever crazy thing they want. And then to have the self-belief and confidence to go and do it.
Words like “power,” “pride,” and “freedom” have a bit of a political connotation. Most of us have to concern ourselves with little everyday events, good and bad. Just keep going at what you can do. As my song When The Lord Get Us Ready says: Do your thing. When the time is right, the Lord will get you ready to succeed.
And one last question, do you prefer watermelon or melon?
Watermelon. They are prolific in Ghana. And they are so big, bold, and with all those black seeds inside – a potent symbol of fertility! (laughing)
Catch Wiyaala & The Yaga Yagas live in Sofia on May 17, 2025, at Club PAVE as part of the Africa Day celebration. The night promises an electrifying journey through Afro-folk, pop, and dance rhythms – followed by an Afro party with DJs Dark Jay and Tsetun Tsentanaua. Doors open at 8:30 PM, with Wiyaala taking the stage at 9:30.
Text: Sofia Hussein for Dinya
All photos: courtesy of Wiyaala
