After two years abroad, the Headies, Nigeria’s longest-surviving music awards show, was finally “Back to Base,” and the anticipation was palpable, at least among music heads.
It’s been a couple of turbulent years, and this edition, the first on home soil in three years, was another opportunity to demonstrate the significance of a project that had done so much for the music industry. We all wanted it to succeed.
And Lagos, the headquarters of entertainment on the continent, deserved to host the triumphant return. Yet, when DJ Spinall abruptly closed the show in the early hours of Monday, April 28, 2025, the feeling wasn’t celebration, but weary relief mixed with profound disappointment.
For many, but let me speak for myself, this disappointment wasn’t born on the night; it had been brewing for weeks, fueled by a series of challenges that predicted the chaos to come. The 17th Headies wasn’t just an awards show; it was a stark reflection of avoidable errors, questionable priorities, and a worrying erosion of credibility.
And we all must do everything we can to make sure what happened on the night of April 27 never happens again.
Let’s be frank: Nigerians do not expect many events to go completely smoothly; that is the toxicity of being and living as a Nigerian. I do not think this would go down as the “worst Headies” in history, but the issues weren’t subtle.
The warning signs appeared long before Zerry DL was announced as the first winner on the night. The Headies announcement had said the event would return to Eko Hotels and Suites, so the unexplained venue change to Landmark, followed by a postponement attributed to logistical challenges, already hinted at shaky foundations.
While the organisers must have made these changes to ensure a smoother event, these pre-show hiccups only set the stage for a night marred by disorganisation.
On the night of the events, attendees faced long waits outside, struggling to get wristbands for VVIP tickets already purchased. The show itself started significantly late, a common occurrence in Nigerian events, perhaps, but this one became an endurance test when we were not close to finishing the awards at 3 in the morning.
Even basic elements failed: some awardees, including the Executive Governor of Lagos State, couldn’t receive their plaques because they were reportedly “in transit.” Shallipopi, who won the Rap Single of the Year Award, receiving a handshake instead of a trophy is a travesty. It seemed disrespectful to the artistes the award purports to celebrate, and the Pluto King went online to rant about it the next day.
While the stunning Nancy Isime tried her best as the first female solo-host of the awards, her performance left much to be desired. First, she did not particularly energise the crowd or keep them motivated, perhaps because she was visibly tired as well, and it seemed like there were no proper rehearsals or preparation ahead of the big night.
The announcements of winners not in the room, and major categories like Lyricist on the roll and Artiste of the Year being relegated to website announcements hours after the show ended, paint a picture of utter disarray.
On a personal note, what was perhaps more disheartening than the logistical failures was the obvious shift in focus from musical substance to fleeting social media relevance. Seeing the great Keke Ogungbe on the Red Carpet without a mob around him while there was a huge frenzy around VeryDarkMan was jarring, but that is the reality of today’s society. But my disappointment stems from seeing these icons, including Faze, MI Abaga, Kenny Saint-Brown and other literal architects of the industry before Afrobeats became cool, overlooked while Priscilla Ojo, Shaun Okojie, and the Mbadiwe twins climbed the podium to present awards.
Seeing reality TV stars and influencers presenting awards, while legends sat unacknowledged in the audience, felt like a betrayal of the Headies’ core mission. Tems’ mother presenting an award won by her daughter (who did not show up, by the way) further blurred the lines of professionalism and objectivity. It implies that the Headies were more interested in viral moments than credible recognition.
When these things were happening on the night, a part of me just shrugged like, “This is Nigeria.” There’s a temptation to accept a degree of tardiness and disorganisation as part of the Nigerian experience. It’s an honest reflection of certain societal realities, yes.
But should our biggest music award show, the one we often (unfairly) compare to the Grammys, settle for reflecting mediocrity? When does accepting “how things are” become an excuse for failing to strive for excellence? We don’t want a Headies that mirrors the chaos; we want it to set a standard. We need it to be the standard. Afrobeats became global because of Nigeria, our awards should get the same respect.
The cumulative effect of these constant issues is undeniable: The Headies is losing credibility. The absence of superstars like Wizkid and Burna Boy has become normalised. This year, the trend continued with Asake, Rema, Tems, Seyi Vibes, Olamide, and Ayra Starr skipping the event. While Davido’s continued support is commendable and crucial for maintaining some semblance of prestige, the award’s power diminishes each time a major nominee deems it unworthy of their presence.
Shallipopi’s public declaration not to attend the next (or any other) edition after the plaque fiasco is a symptom of a larger problem. If artistes don’t respect the award, why should the audience and the rest of the world?
It’s true, comparisons to the Grammys, with its vast resources, membership funding, and lucrative broadcast deals, are often unfair. The Headies, as I suspect, has likely bootstrapped its way through two decades. Ayo Animashaun and his team deserve credit for sustaining the platform this long. All the other awards which were around when The Headies held its first edition in 2006 are not standing today.
However, acknowledging financial constraints cannot excuse fundamental failures in planning and execution. Starting on time, having plaques ready, ensuring hosts and presenters are briefed, and announcing all winners during the actual show are matters of basic competence, not multi-million dollar budgets.
Perhaps it is time to explore different funding models, more strategic partnerships, or even licensing the brand could inject necessary resources and professionalism.
But the current path feels unsustainable.
Despite the litany of failures, the Headies remains Nigeria’s most recognised music award. The producers have remained committed and consistent despite very obvious challenges. For most newcomers, it still felt like a privilege to be there on the night.
The stage performances of Odumodublvck, Blaqbonez, Juma Jux and Flavour still showcased industry talent. It was also great to see some of the artistes actually pleased to have won the categories they were nominated for. The core idea – celebrating Nigerian music – is still valid and vital. Yet, something has to change. The organisers must demand a radical shift, acknowledge feedback, prioritise professionalism, value musical legacy alongside current trends, and demonstrate a tangible commitment to excellence.
Everyone, from government bodies to media platforms, veteran musicians, trending artists, and the audience, must do absolutely all that they can to support the organisers. The next edition, slated for December, isn’t just another show; it’s a critical juncture. It’s a chance for the organisers to prove they’ve listened, learned, and are STILL capable of delivering an event worthy of the artistes and the industry.
If not, the understandable frustration might just result in a further lack of interest and the Headies will finally “throw in the towel.”
