If there’s one thing Folarin “Falz” Falana will never be accused of, it’s blending in. A trained lawyer who ditched the courtroom for the stage, the screen, and the streets. Falz has carved out a niche that’s equal parts fearless entertainer, social commentator, and creative disruptor. Whether he’s rapping in pidgin about police brutality, delivering satirical comedy on national dysfunction, or wearing lace like it’s leather, Falz is always making a statement and the country is always watching.
Born into a household steeped in law and activism, Falz could have comfortably followed in his parents’ iconic legal footsteps. Instead, he chose to remix the script entirely, turning his sharp mind and sharper tongue to music and film. From Wazup Guy to The Feast, his discography traces not just the evolution of a musician, but of a man grappling with power, politics, and purpose. His 2018 viral anthem This is Nigeria didn’t just ruffle feathers, it yanked the entire henhouse into global headlines and sparked conversations far beyond the entertainment sphere.
Today, he’s not only the CEO of B.A.H.D Guys Entertainment and House 21 Media, but also a voice that speaks truth to power, often with a smirk, a punchline, and occasionally, a suit jacket over Ankara shorts.
In this exclusive sit-down, Falz gets candid with Azuka Ogujiuba about his new album The Feast, the weight of influence, navigating fame, fatherhood rumours, and why money will never change him—even if the world does.
You were already a practising lawyer in 2012. What was the moment you realised the creative path was not just a passion but your actual calling?
I think I realised it was my calling even before that—maybe while I was in university, around 2008 or 2009. Yeah, that was when it clicked. But I crossed over fully in 2012, though I was still practising law. Of course, I hadn’t gotten my big break yet. I was living a double life. Lawyer by day, musician by night. I was trying to balance both until things started picking up on the entertainment side around 2014. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it felt inevitable. The law was something I respected, but music—it just pulled at something deeper. It became less about what I could do and more about what I had to do.
Coming from a family of well-known human rights activists, how has your upbringing shaped your voice as both an artist and a citizen?
Definitely in a big way. Growing up with that kind of influence was very direct. I’d say it played a huge role in shaping who I’ve become—not just as a person, but as an artist. Advocacy was part of our dinner table conversations. Watching my parents champion justice and fairness gave me a strong moral compass and taught me early on that silence in the face of oppression is complicity. That fire shows up in my music, in my decisions, and even in the projects I take on.
‘This is Nigeria’ wasn’t just a song it was a national wake-up call. When you were making it, did you anticipate the scale of its impact and controversy?
I didn’t anticipate the full reaction. I knew it was controversial, but to me, I was just speaking the truth. Nothing but the truth. I expected it to ruffle feathers, but I didn’t realise how far it would go until it started happening. But as they say, if the shoe fits… And fit, it did. I think the fact that so many people felt personally attacked by a piece of art says a lot about the state of our conscience as a society.
With your visibility and cultural relevance, do you ever feel pressure to always speak up? How do you navigate the tension between artistry and activism?
I try not to feel pressure in any way, including this. I know people expect me to react to certain situations based on what I’ve done before, but I only speak up when I genuinely feel the need to. That’s important to me, no pressure. It’s easy to get caught up in being everyone’s voice, but I’ve learned that advocacy must come from authenticity. Otherwise, you’re just adding noise.
Whether it’s a music album or a film project, storytelling seems to be at the core of your work. What draws you to certain stories, and how do you know when it’s time to tell them?
I’ve always been a lover of stories even from a young age. So, with my music and film work, I’m always deeply involved in the storytelling. I know it’s time when I feel moved, when my artistic mind tells me so. On my latest album, The Feast, the track “Storytime” is about my life, a big chunk of it, at least. I was pushed by a producer friend to go deeper, and that’s how that track came to be. For me, storytelling is how I process the world. It’s how I give voice to the voiceless and hold a mirror to society.
From Wazup Guy to The Feast, your sound and message have evolved significantly. What parts of you have stayed the same, and what has changed the most?
At my core, I’m still the same person. Who I was in 2014 is who I am now. But I’ve grown. Growth is constant. I’ve matured, and I understand a lot more about life now. That growth is my biggest asset, and it shows in the music. The sound may evolve, the themes may shift, but the intent—to speak truth, to entertain, to provoke thought—that’s never changed.
What inspired you to build not just a career, but entire platforms like B.A.H.D Guys Entertainment and House 21 Media? What have you created or changed through them?
I wanted to create a platform for continuity and evolution. Eventually, I want to mentor others, develop talent, and build something lasting. With House 21, I’m not just acting, I’m making my own films. That’s the next level for me. These platforms are about ownership and legacy. It’s bigger than me now—it’s about building structures that outlive trends and continue to empower the next generation of creatives.
Quam’s Money was a bold project. What inspired it?
It was our first cinema production under House 21. We were still learning, but it was a great experience with a strong message about fast money and living beyond your means. We wanted to tell a story that mirrors real-life pressures faced by young Nigerians and explore what happens when greed outpaces wisdom.
You’re a musician, actor, filmmaker, activist and you’re running two companies. How do you stay grounded and manage your energy?
Discipline. That’s key. Also, time management, knowing what to prioritise and when. And of course, hard work. It’s a lot, but I try to stay focused and just keep going. I also make time for introspection. I protect my peace and try not to stretch myself too thin. Burnout is real, so balance is essential.
You’ve been in the game for over a decade. What excites you most about where Nigerian music and cinema are headed—and what still needs to change?
What’s most exciting is the global attention. The world is paying attention to Nigerian creativity. But we still need more unity, more collaboration across all the arts. Music, fashion, film, visual arts—we all need to work together more. Imagine what we could do if we pooled our resources and truly saw ourselves as one ecosystem instead of silos.
You’ve become known not just for your sound, but your style. Playful, bold, and distinct. How would you describe your fashion aesthetic, and what role does style play in your self-expression?
Fashion for me is exactly that—playful, bold, distinct. I like being different. How many men wear lace? It’s about breaking boundaries. Fashion is a powerful form of expression, it says a lot about culture, personality, character. And yes, I might explore it more in the future. I see it as an extension of my art—another way to communicate who I am without saying a word.
Do you have plans for your own fashion label?
Possibly. I wouldn’t rule it out. It’s an avenue I’m definitely keeping an eye on. If I’m going to do it, it has to be authentic and true to my vibe.
When you’re not creating or performing, who is Folarin? What brings you peace?
Solitude. I enjoy being alone with my thoughts. I also love sports. Playing football, watching Arsenal, gaming, chilling with friends and family. That’s peace for me. Simplicity, laughter, and the comfort of people who know me beyond the spotlight.
Do you see yourself more as someone who reflects culture or someone who shapes it?
Both. But I think I shape it more and I take that seriously. It’s about being conscious of your influence and guiding the next generation in the right direction. I don’t just want to ride the wave—I want to influence where it’s going.
What’s next for you that we haven’t seen coming? Any new creative ventures—or are you revisiting law?
Fashion is the new territory I want to explore. Law will always be there, I might revisit it someday. But for now, fashion is what’s next. And trust me, when I step into something, I do it with full intention.
Your album is called The Feast, which sounds almost biblical. What’s the meaning behind the title?
The title is about community—coming together, sharing, achieving. That’s why the artwork has that “Last Supper” vibe. It’s about unity. About creating a space where everyone brings something to the table.
During #EndSARS, you played a visible role. Did you ever feel threatened?
No threats. I just felt motivated by a cause and followed through. Sometimes conviction drowns out fear.
What’s your take on the victims of #EndSARS, especially since justice hasn’t been served?
If given another opportunity, would you do it again?
Definitely. I’ll always speak up when I feel the need to. Silence, in some cases, is a betrayal.
Does money influence your values? A lot of people are compromising for it these days.
Money has never been a motivation for me. It’s just a tool. It doesn’t define me or my decisions. Money doesn’t change people—it reveals them. If you’re solid, it amplifies your essence. If you’re not, it exposes your flaws.
When all is said and done, how do you want to be remembered?
I want my legacy to be one of impact, influence, truth, and resilience. That’s what I’m striving for. Someone who stood for something, gave his all, and helped others do the same.
Let’s talk about Funke Akindele. People speculate about your relationship—friends, lovers, or just colleagues?
She’s a great friend and colleague. Super inspiring. One of the hardest-working creatives I know. We’ve built strong chemistry on and off screen, so I’m not surprised by the rumours. But honestly, our relationship is rooted in mutual respect and admiration.
But does she have the kind of qualities you’d want in a partner?
That’s an interesting question, but I’d rather not answer. She’s a great woman, but I’ve never looked at her in that light.
What would you say to young creatives torn between expectations and expression?
Focus on expression. People will always have expectations, but your talent, your uniqueness, that’s what matters. Express yourself. That’s what’s real and that’s what makes you, YOU. If you chase validation, you’ll always be lost. But if you chase purpose, you’ll find your voice.
CREDITS
PHOTOS: ENIOLA JORDAN FOR ROC IMAGES STUDIO
