O-jae’s “Oma” Is Built to Last

Some producers chase moments; others build memories. On Oma, O-jae aligns herself with the latter instinct, offering a record that feels carefully assembled, quietly assured, and unconcerned with urgency. It is not a song that begs for attention. It trusts that attention will come with time. Produced for Dewusi, Oma reflects a producer increasingly confident in restraint, one who understands that longevity is often a function of clarity.

The song sits comfortably within the Afrobeats continuum, yet its internal logic gestures outward. Subtle R&B phrasing and hip-hop sensibilities move through the arrangement without friction, never overwhelming the song’s core. The most striking choice arrives in the form of Afrobeat horns, introduced not as flourish but as a compass. They ride the record with purpose, steering its emotional arc, grounding it in lineage, and giving it a sense of authority that feels earned, not imposed.

Rhythm plays a similarly disciplined role. O-jae’s drum programming is exacting, guided by patience rather than excess. Clean fills punctuate the record at just the right moments, leaving generous pockets of space for the song to inhale and exhale. Nothing feels hurried. 

That same emotional intelligence carries through the layering. Instrumental elements stack gently, coexisting without competition, allowing feeling to surface naturally. Oma moves fluidly between introspection and motion, offering something you can sit with or move to depending on where you meet it. It resists being flattened into disposable party music, choosing instead to linger in a quieter, more durable emotional register.

The decision to release a sped-up version of the song speaks to foresight rather than reaction. At a higher tempo, Oma retains its balance, its architecture holding firm. The sped-up rendition feels anticipated, embedded in the song’s DNA, suggesting a producer thinking beyond a single listening context and toward the varied ways music now lives and travels.

Beyond the record itself, Oma reinforces the creative rapport between O-jae and Dewusi. Their collaboration feels settled, marked by shared language and trust. With industry murmurs pointing toward another joint release later in the year, the partnership reads as one built for continuity, not convenience.

With Oma, O-jae continues to carve out a distinct lane for herself. Her production favors emotional weight, cultural awareness, and replay value, quietly separating her from those chasing immediacy. As her catalogue grows, it becomes increasingly clear that she is interested in building records that age, records that stay — music designed for memory, not just the moment.