My ears are still ringing, and honestly, I am not even mad about it. There is a specific kind of exhaustion that only comes after forty-eight hours of pure, unadulterated musical chaos, and right now, I am wearing it like a badge of honor.
If you were not at the Detty Dec Fest this year, how do I even describe the energy to you? It was more than just a concert. It felt like a family reunion where everyone actually likes each other, mixed with the intensity of a spiritual awakening. Day one, curated by Juma, was electrifying. It set the bar so high I thought there was no way day two could top it. Juma has this knack for picking artists who know how to build a vibe, layer by layer, until the crowd is humming. But man, I was wrong. Day two did not just top it; day two was the climax that left us all wondering how we are supposed to go back to our regular, quiet lives..
The transition from day one to day two felt like moving from a warm-up to a sprint. By the time the sun went down on the second night, the air in the venue felt thick with expectation.
Then came Uzikwendu. The Fastest Rapper In Nigeria and Maybe Africa?
Now, if you know Uzi, you know the man does not just rap; he attacks the microphone. Watching him perform is like watching a masterclass in breath control. I found myself holding my own breath just trying to keep up with his cadence. He is the fastest in the game for a reason, but it is not just about the speed. It is the precision. He opened up the floor with a ferocity that woke up anyone who was still lagging from the night before. By the time he finished his set, the crowd was primed. We were sweaty, we were loud, and we were ready for more.
And then, the atmosphere shifted. You could feel it before you saw him.
MI Abaga stepped onto that stage, and suddenly, the festival felt… important. I have seen MI perform a dozen times over the last decade, but there is something about his presence that never gets old. He is the “Guy” for a reason. He did not just come out and reel off hits; he talked to us. He reminded us why we love this culture. When he performed some of those classics from the Talk About It era, I looked around and saw grown men with their eyes closed, rapping every single syllable like their lives depended on it. It was nostalgic, but it also felt incredibly current. MI has this way of making a massive festival feel like an intimate lounge session, and then, with one beat drop, turning it back into a riot.
But if MI provided the soul, Tiwa Savage provided the fire.
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Can we talk about the Queen for a second? I’m pretty sure she is not human. She walked out, and the entire energy of the fest pivoted. It became glamorous, sultry, and unapologetically bold. Tiwa does not just sing; she commands. Every movement was intentional. When she performed “Koroba,” I am fairly certain the ground actually shook. There is a specific power in seeing a woman dominate a stage like that, especially in a lineup filled with heavy hitters. She brought out the “soft” side of Detty December, but make no mistake, she was as hard-hitting as any rapper there. She is the bridge between the streets and the high life, and she walked that bridge with so much grace it was almost unfair.
Then, the moment every fan bought tickets for arrived. Busta Rhymes. Yes, the man who for me controls the term ‘Music’ the ‘Fans’, and ‘Microphone.’
I have to be honest; I was a little nervous. Sometimes you see legends from that era and they are a shell of themselves. But Busta? Busta is a force of nature. From the second he stepped out, it was clear he was not there to collect a paycheck; he was there to remind us why he is a deity in this hip-hop thing. The man’s energy is terrifying in the best way possible. He was pacing the stage like a caged tiger, and when he went into that verse from “Look At Me Now,” I think I forgot how to speak English.
It was a beautiful, chaotic collision of worlds. To see a global icon like Busta sharing the same oxygen as our local giants, respecting the stage, and giving 110 percent was something I will be telling my grandkids about. He stayed on stage way longer than I expected, pouring into the crowd, feeding off our energy until it felt like the roof was going to blow off.
Looking back, day one was the foundation. Juma did an incredible job of setting the stage and giving us a reason to show up. But day two? Day two was the payoff. It was the moment the festival stopped being a series of performances and became a core memory.
We left the venue as the night was thinking about coming to an end, my voice gone and my legs heavy. My shirt was ruined, I had lost my favorite hat somewhere near the front row during Busta’s set, and I could not have been happier. We spend so much of our lives being “sensible” and “productive.” Sometimes, you just need to stand in a field with thousands of strangers and lose your mind to a drum beat.
Detty Dec Fest did that for me. It reminded me that music is the only thing that can make a crowd of strangers feel like they have known each other forever. If that is not magic, I do not know what is.
