The recent decision by the Nigerian Broadcasting Commission (NBC) to ban the airing of Eedris Abdulkareem’s politically charged song, “Tell Your Papa,” from television and radio stations across the country has sparked outrage and ignited a fresh round of debate about freedom of expression in Nigeria. This move, reminiscent of authoritarian tendencies, has not only raised eyebrows but also amplified the very message the authorities are trying to silence.
Eedris Abdulkareem, a veteran musician known for his fearless social commentary, released “Tell Your Papa” as a direct message to the political elite, particularly targeting those in power who continue to perpetuate cycles of poverty, corruption, and economic inequality. The song, which gained significant traction on social media shortly after its release, calls out government officials and challenges the legacy of failed leadership. Instead of addressing the message, the NBC has chosen to shoot the messenger, attempting to erase the song from the public space through censorship.
The irony, however, is that in the age of digital media, such bans are not only ineffective but counterproductive. By attempting to silence the song, the NBC has unwittingly given it more publicity and viral appeal. Since the ban was announced, the track has garnered hundreds of thousands of additional views on YouTube, trended on X (formerly Twitter), and has been widely shared across WhatsApp groups and TikTok. Nigerians are not fools—they know when the establishment is trying to bury the truth, and they often respond by amplifying the message even louder.
This is not the first time Eedris has locked horns with the establishment. In 2004, his hit song “Jaga Jaga” was banned by the Obasanjo administration for its candid portrayal of the dysfunction in Nigeria. Ironically, that song became one of the most iconic protest anthems in Nigerian music history. History is repeating itself with “Tell Your Papa,” as attempts to suppress its message have only added to its popularity and cultural impact.
Over the years, Nigeria has witnessed a pattern of similar overreactions from regulatory bodies. In 2019, the NBC banned Falz’s music video for “This Is Nigeria” on the grounds of vulgarity, despite the song being a bold and artistic critique of societal decay. In 2018, the song “Living Things” by 9ice was also sanctioned for allegedly glorifying Internet fraud. In each case, censorship only increased public curiosity, thereby boosting the profile of the songs and reinforcing the messages they carried.
The NBC’s justification for banning “Tell Your Papa” is rooted in vague regulatory language about content that is “unfit for public broadcast.” But what does that really mean in a democracy? A song that speaks truth to power? A song that mirrors the frustration of millions of impoverished Nigerians? This kind of censorship is not about decency or national security—it’s about protecting the powerful from accountability.
What’s more disturbing is that this comes at a time when Nigeria’s socio-economic conditions are deteriorating rapidly. Inflation has hit a 28-year high, unemployment remains rampant, and the Naira continues to plummet against the dollar. Meanwhile, political office holders continue to allocate billions in frivolous allowances and luxury lifestyles, completely disconnected from the suffering of ordinary citizens. In such an environment, music becomes more than entertainment—it becomes a lifeline, a form of resistance, and a voice for the voiceless.
According to recent data from Statista, over 60% of Nigeria’s youth are under the age of 30, and most of them consume content primarily through digital platforms. Trying to suppress a song on radio and TV does little when the message is already etched into the digital consciousness of millions. The NBC’s move shows just how outdated and ineffective traditional censorship tactics have become in the face of technological progress.
Instead of censorship, the government and its agencies should engage with the message. They should reflect on why songs like “Tell Your Papa” resonate so deeply with the masses. The ban only confirms what the song is saying—that Nigeria is ruled by an elite class more interested in silencing dissent than addressing legitimate grievances. The NBC’s directive reeks of fear, desperation, and an unwillingness to tolerate dissent in any form.
The attempt to gag Eedris Abdulkareem is not just an attack on one artist—it is an affront to the entire Nigerian public. It undermines our democratic ideals and sets a dangerous precedent for the future. Today, it’s a song. Tomorrow, it could be a book, a film, a social media post, or a citizen simply expressing an unpopular opinion.
If the authorities thought the ban would silence the storm, they grossly miscalculated. What they’ve done instead is ignite a wildfire of resistance. Nigerians are tired. Tired of being bullied into silence. Tired of recycled leadership. Tired of suffering in a land so rich. Songs like “Tell Your Papa” are not the problem—they are a reflection of the problem.
In the final analysis, history will judge this moment not by how loudly the authorities tried to silence the truth, but by how courageously Nigerians fought back with their voices, their art, and their collective will. As for Eedris Abdulkareem, his song now lives on in the hearts and playlists of a nation that knows too well what it means to be told to keep quiet. And this time, they won’t.
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Image: EA music video