Showkey, I’ve been tagged, called upon, and urged to speak up—people consider me a promoter and guardian of Fuji’s spirit. In light of your recent interview on Agbaletu, it’s time I offered frank counsel as one who has watched, nurtured, and shaped Fuji culture.
You are the son of Late Alhaji Sikiru Ayinde Barrister, the founding architect of Fuji music—an origin story rooted in Nigeria and nurtured on home soil. You inherited not just your father’s voice, but his brand, name, and a deep audience of loyal fans. Yet, you chose to relocate to the United States. That decision signaled a distancing from both the industry and the heritage you were entrusted with.
Barry Showkey, I wish to emphasize something personal and essential. You know your true father—seek his blessing, and never deny his existence. If Barrister was not your biological father, then you should honor the man who is your real father, introduce him to the world and never feel ashamed of his role in your life. Barrister may have fronted you to gain recognition, but your biological father—Yekini—deserves acknowledgment and respect in your story.
From your base in America, you have critiqued the Fuji scene at home—labeling it stagnant, faulting active artists for failing the genre. You responded strongly to K1’s claim that the name “Fuji” predated your father, calling it a deliberate attempt to disrespect him and disrupt history. But the harsh truth is: the people working tirelessly in Nigeria aren’t your enemies—they’re the ones who stayed behind to carry the torch.
Criticism from abroad feels easier when stakes are lower. If you truly believed in Fuji music, you’d not have left the country where it was born. Fuji thrives through presence—in rehearsals, in festivals, in grassroots engagement. When you departed, a gap was created, and others stepped in—not to overshadow you, but to keep the legacy alive.
Your return single, “RoboRobo,” released in May 2025, signals intent and determination. That energy is your strongest asset now. But strength without humility can build walls instead of bridges. Instead of framing those on the frontlines as uninspired or reductive, see them as collaborators in a mission beyond any one person. Remastered tributes, combined works, shared platforms—these are the work that lifts Fuji forward.
You are the bridge between diaspora and homegrown Fuji. Your reach is global. But influence—lasting influence—demands physical presence, mutual respect, and genuine partnership. Start by embracing the elders. Approach them not as rivals, but as custodians and potential allies in a shared legacy.
Make no mistake: your choices shaped your path. No one forced your relocation. The brand was given. The fan base was legacy. What wasn’t leveraged then can still be seized now. Owning your decisions—without blame—is the first step toward rebuilding.
So here is the heart of my message: humility over pride, collaboration over conflict. The industry isn’t waiting to block you—it’s waiting for your return in unity. Choose that path. Reconnect, learn, and build together. The Fuji community is ready. This season of renewal can become your strongest legacy chapter.
With respect and belief in Fuji’s future,
Alhaji Arems
Promoter • Cultural Advocate • Fuji Strategist