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“What does the title Symbol of Hope mean to you personally?” Lase, Zlatan’s 5-year-old son asks him. They’re seated on a long brown bench in a tastefully decorated white room furnished with indoor plants and elegant wooden furniture. “When I was growing up, I used to have people I looked up to,” Zlatan replies, “I […]
“What does the title Symbol of Hope mean to you personally?” Lase, Zlatan’s 5-year-old son asks him. They’re seated on a long brown bench in a tastefully decorated white room furnished with indoor plants and elegant wooden furniture. “When I was growing up, I used to have people I looked up to,” Zlatan replies, “I saw people that made it from nothing to something. They are the symbols that I saw that gave me hope. Right now, a lot of people look up to me as well. So, I’m like a symbol of hope.” If Zlatan’s words in this interview, released on his social channels in the lead up to the release of his third studio album, Symbol of Hope, feel particularly poignant, it’s because they embody his lived experience.
As a child, he lived with his parents and three siblings in a single “face me I face you” room. Later down the line their fortunes would improve slightly. They moved from the single room to a room and parlor in Ikorodu but that came with its own set of challenges. “there was no electricity back then. When we arrived in the area, there were thick bushes everywhere,” Zlatan tells me during a Google Meet call. With its sprawling bushes, which teemed with a range of animals, most prominently monkeys, and its austere power supply issues, Ikorodu felt to Zlatan like the end of the earth, a world disconnected from the thrum of activities that define modern living.
The internet however became something of a portal for him, mediating his remote area and the rest of the world. “We would connect to the internet with our Nokias and Blackberrys and we’d be able to see things that would be otherwise inaccessible. Even if we were secluded from the world, seeing a young kid like Wizkid come in and change the narrative, really motivated us,” he says excitedly. Surfing the internet filled his teenage mind with dreams. Dreams of playing professional football, of making music professionally, of swapping out his cloistered living experience in the belly of Ikorodu for a more comfortable life.
The winds of change started to churn in 2014, when Zlatan, aged 19, won the Airtel-sponsored 2014 edition of “One Mic Campus Tour” music competition, which was held in Abeokuta, Ogun State. In the space of a gavel strike, he went from unknown to relatively famous. In school, he became something of a folk hero. His music career also received a burst of momentum. “The fact that I was a winner made every artist want to associate with me.” But even this seemingly fairytale situation came with its own challenges.
Winning the competition imbued Zlatan with confidence, but it also became a burden to him. “It was like a stepping stone as well, but at the same time, I didn’t have the money to match up the energy of being the winner that everybody knew me to be on campus.” After his graduation, he began gaining momentum, linking up with ID Cabasa and Reminisce—both of whom were judges on the competition—and blazing his path until “I eventually got that wonderful call from Olamide that changed my life.”
Zlatan has since ascended to cultural icon status, with his influence stretching between music and fashion. These days, he splits his time between recording music and attending to the other demands of a music career, and his fashion brand Zlatan To The World (ZTTW). Since his latest album, Symbol of Hope, his itinerary has however changed somewhat: recording music has been replaced with promoting the album.
In our conversation, transcribed below, we peel back the layers of his latest studio album Symbol of Hope and talk about an array of other ancillary topics, including his fashion brand Zlatan To The World (ZTTW) and his changing relationship with stardom.
This conversation has been edited lightly for clarity
Nigerian artists tend to christen projects with grand titles that rarely relate to the content or narrative of the project. The title of your new album Symbol of Hope is grand, but it also rings true to your story, which feels like the plot of a well-written grass-to-grace film. You’ve however, been a symbol of hope to many since your come-up days. Why did you only decide to use it as an album title now?
I can’t say for sure, but I’ve always wanted to be a symbol of hope to myself and others. I’ve always wanted to be that person people can look up to, tap into their grace, and say “if they can do it then I can do it as well. I want to be the reason for people not to give up and stay true to their grind.
Let’s talk about the album, Symbol of Hope. When did you start making it?
I started making the album in 2023. My last project dropped in 2021, so by 2023, I started preparing my mind for the project. I scaled through 2023 without an album, but I dropped a body of work, an EP. In 2024, I started putting it all together. I never stop recording. Album or no album, music is my safe place. I make music every day. The way people do 9-to-5 is the way I see music. I wake up to go to the studio almost every morning and return in the evening. So, when I was finally ready to drop the project, it was really just a matter of selecting the songs that fit the theme.
How do you feel about how people are responding and engaging with the album?
I’m so happy. I’m so excited that after 8 years since my breakout moment, people are still paying attention, they are excited, and even anxious to listen to the songs. We have a number one song from the album—Get Better—that has over 30 million streams already on Spotify alone. It feels so good to be able to do that in an industry that is saturated right now. A lot of songs are released every New Music Friday, but there’s so little space for people to consume songs.
Your last sentence really caught my ear. A staggering number of songs get released every New Music Friday. Given your success—in music, you’ve become something of a cultural icon, you’ve also found success with your fashion brand Zanku To The World, ZTTW. Have you ever considered hanging up your boots and focusing on something outside of being an artist, say your fashion brand or management?
I don’t think I’ll ever stop making music. I just want to keep reinventing myself. Music is what has given me the platform to diversify into the other things I do, so I see no reason why I should quit. I might no longer release back-to-back albums, it could be smaller bodies of work, say a 4-track EP, or singles, but I’ll keep making music.
Earlier I referred to you as a cultural icon—someone who is indispensable to the culture. One way we see this in effect is through your ability to vault emerging artists, teetering at the edge of a breakthrough, to stardom. The examples are endless: Odumodublvck with the remix of Picanto, Buju with Spiritual, Shallipopi with Elon Musk remix, and more recently, Mavo with the remix of Escaladizzy. I’m curious to know how you decide whether or not to give an emerging artist a verse.
It depends on the energy and the artists themselves. I wouldn’t want a verse from me to be a burden on the artist. Rather, I want it to take them to the next level or wherever they want to be. I feel like giving a verse to an artist without a solid plan is like putting them in another set of problems. So I really like it when an emerging artist has done something for themself and then all that’s left is to just add my own icing on the cake and then it becomes something nice. You understand? That way it is easier for both of us.
Speaking about emerging artists, talk to me about Demons, the second track on the album which features Qing Madi. It’s one of my favorites from the album. You’re both incredibly versatile artists—which is why the record works so well. But it’s also not a predictable collaboration, talk to me about how it all happened.
We didn’t sit down together to create that record. She had made the song when her spirit was down—she told me this. Later down the line I was trying to make a song with her. I spoke to my producer about it and he told me they had recorded a song already. Interestingly, at that time I was fighting a demon as well. It was as simple as sending my verse to her. She was like, “Oh, this is really amazing.” I told her I was having it on my project and that was how we made this song. Just a little context into the song: we artists face some things that we can’t even come online to disclose. Sadly, some people act like we’re not human beings. Some people go around bashing artists or their craft, just making people I’ve never met feel bad about their craft without consideration for their mental health. I used the song, Demons, as an avenue to explore all of that.
Very illuminating. Hearing you speak with this level of openness has provided more context into the song for me. Another standout from the album is Oyoyo. On the surface, it presents as a simple, playful song. But once one hunkers down and listens closely, one discovers that you’re saying a lot of profound things.
Yeah. I love the song so much, man.
I like it too.
You know what it reminds me of?
You tell me
J Martins’ Oyoyo.
Yeah, that’s true. I kept thinking the song sounded nostalgic.
The song reminds me of my childhood. You know I had to buy a Lamborghini because of that song?
For real? (Laughs)
Yeah. Because in the song I sing “Lambo truck inside traffic o! Dem see me shout oyoyo!” Whenever I want something I just prophesy through my music. Now, on several songs on the album, I’m just talking about how my money is long, that’s me saying a prayer. I’m indirectly saying I want my money to be long.
Now I’m curious to hear the story behind the song.
I was having a recording camp somewhere in Lekki. I just knew I wanted to work with Telz. I already had a picture of the sound in my head and it was exactly what he gave me. We recorded Oyoyo the same day I recorded Odeshi, the same day I recorded Paypal. I recorded three songs that day and the three songs made the album. The energy in the studio that day was so good. I wrote all three songs by myself. That was the day I knew that O shi wa lara (I’m still capable.)
What do you think heightened the energy in the room that day? Was it the producer you worked with? Or the particular setup you used?
It was probably just the mood. But if I’m going to track it, I probably received good news that day or something.
How involved are you in your fashion brand ZTTW? Do you actually make sketches and creative direct aspects of the brand or do you have people you outsource and all of that to?
I’m fully involved. When I’m not doing anything during the day, I’m with a team like in the creative room trying to sort out new designs for the brand.
Anyone who remotely knows you knows that you love fashion. You have a great sense of style. You also happen to own one of the most culturally relevant streetwear brands in this part of the world. How does your love for fashion compare to music?
I love them both, fashion and music, but I would say my music comes first.
For my final question: you’ve come so far from where you started. Do you sometimes look back and say ‘Wow I can’t believe I made it’?
Of course. That’s why I make music that makes people feel uplifted in their spirits. I’m so grateful to God, sometimes I ask myself how all of this happened.
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