The Funkees were among Nigeria’s leading Afro-funk innovators, blending highlife, funk, rock, and Afrobeat into a distinctive sound that resonated across Africa and the diaspora. Formed in the late 1960s, their story reflects both Nigeria’s post-civil war cultural rebirth and the wider global appetite for Afro-inspired music in the 1970s.
Origins and Formation (Late 1960s – Early 1970s)
Emerging in the aftermath of the Nigerian Civil War (1967–1970), The Funkees began as an army band created to entertain soldiers and communities recovering from conflict. Over time, they shed their military function and became a creative force, experimenting with funk, psychedelic rock, highlife, and the Afrobeat movement led by contemporaries such as Fela Kuti.
The founding members included Harry Mosco Agada (vocals/guitar), Chyke Madu (drums), and Jake Sollo (guitar). Deeply influenced by African rhythms and Western acts like James Brown, Jimi Hendrix, and Santana, they forged a new sound that embodied post-war Nigeria’s experimental spirit.
Breakthrough and Early Success (1973–1975)
The Funkees built a reputation through electrifying live shows in cultural hubs such as Enugu and Aba. Their bilingual performances—switching between English and Igbo—gave them mass appeal across regional and social divides.
In 1974, they released their debut album, Point of No Return. With its groovy bass lines, sharp guitar riffs, and tight percussion, the album established The Funkees as bold Afro-funk innovators. Its mix of infectious rhythms and social commentary made it a landmark in Nigeria’s 1970s music scene.
Peak Years and Relocation to the UK (1976–1978)
Their second album, Now I’m a Man (1976), marked the band’s peak in Nigeria. With more polished production, it solidified their status among the top Afro-funk groups of the decade.
That same year, the band relocated to London, joining a wave of African acts—including Osibisa and Fela Kuti—who sought to connect African sounds with Western audiences. In the UK, The Funkees became a staple of the West African and Caribbean diaspora scenes, performing in clubs, festivals, and community gatherings. While they gained recognition within these circles, they never broke into the British mainstream charts like Osibisa, underscoring both the opportunities and limitations facing African musicians abroad.
Decline and Breakup (Late 1970s – Early 1980s)
Internal disagreements over direction, management, and finances began to fracture the band by the late 1970s. Members pursued separate paths:
Harry Mosco Agada launched a successful solo career with albums like Country Boy (1978) and Peace & Harmony (1979), leaning into disco and pop.
Jake Sollo became a respected guitarist and producer until his tragic death in a 1985 car accident.
By the early 1980s, The Funkees had effectively disbanded.
Musical Style and Legacy
The Funkees’ sound fused diverse elements into a uniquely Nigerian groove:
Afro-funk foundations – heavy bass lines meshed with African rhythmic complexity.
Psychedelic and rock guitars – reflecting Hendrix-inspired experimentation.
Highlife roots – grounding their music in pre-war Nigerian popular styles.
Bilingual lyrics – in English and Igbo, touching on love, resilience, and social themes.
Though their career was relatively short, their records became cult classics, later reissued to global acclaim.
Today, The Funkees are celebrated alongside BLO, Monomono, and Ofege as part of Nigeria’s 1970s experimental wave that bridged local traditions with international funk and rock.
Their music continues to inspire modern Afrobeat and Afrofunk revivalists, reaffirming their place in the lineage of African innovation.
From their post-war army-band origins to their London years, The Funkees embodied the turbulence and creativity of 1970s Nigeria. They may not have reached the global commercial heights of Osibisa or Fela Kuti, but their bold sound carved out a lasting legacy. With landmark albums like Point of No Return and Now I’m a Man, The Funkees remain one of the great innovators who helped shape how Afro-funk is remembered today—vital, experimental, and timeless.
Left to right: Jake Solo, Emma Lawson, Pat Finn, Jeff Afam and Jerry Jiagbogu
The Federal Government has announced the death of Nigeria’s ambassador-designate to Algeria, Mohammed Mahmud Lele, who died at the age of 50.
The Ministry of Foreign Affairs disclosed this in a statement issued in Abuja on Wednesday by its spokesperson, Kimiebi Ebienfa.
According to the ministry, Lele died in the early hours of April 19, 2026, in Ankara, Türkiye, after a protracted illness.
The ministry described the late diplomat as a dedicated officer who served the country with distinction.
“The late Ambassador Lele, until his death after a protracted illness, was the Director in charge of the Middle East and Gulf Division in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
“Ambassador Lele, a career diplomat, was recently appointed by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu as Ambassador-designate to the People’s Democratic Republic of Algeria, following the Nigerian Senate’s confirmation of his nomination,” the statement said.
Born in Gamawa, Bauchi State, in 1976, Lele studied Economics at Bayero University, Kano, and went on to serve in Nigerian missions in Berlin, Lomé and Riyadh.
“Ambassador Lele was known for his intellectual depth, strategic insight and commitment to the advancement of Nigeria’s foreign policy objectives,” the statement added.
The Permanent Secretary of the ministry, Dunoma Umar Ahmed, who received the remains of the late diplomat at the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, Abuja, described him as “a hardworking, humble and fine officer, who will be sorely missed by the ministry.”
The ministry added that his death “is a monumental loss not only to his immediate family but also to the entire Foreign Service community and the Federal Republic of Nigeria.”
Lele was buried on Wednesday in Kano in accordance with Islamic rites.
The ministry extended condolences to his family, associates, and the government and people of Bauchi State, praying for the peaceful repose of his soul and strength for those he left behind.
Comedian Kevin Chinedu, popularly known as Kevinblak, has revealed that officials of a political party offered him dollars to change his satirical skits criticising politicians and governance.
He made the disclosure on Monday in an interview on ARISEtv’s Arise 360 programme, where he spoke about the pressures facing content creators who hold public officials accountable through humour.
Chinedu, known for his character Governor Amuneke, said the approach came at a particularly vulnerable moment, shortly after his wife had a Caesarean section and he was under financial strain.
“They said they were going to change my life, that I’m earning crumbs, you know, give me dollars. They mentioned that my colleagues are in the game and all of that,” he said.
He declined to name the party, saying only that it was “Amuneke’s party”, a reference to the fictional political figure in his skits, and cautioned against any attempt to identify it publicly.
“Don’t mention names, trust me, don’t mention names,” he said.
Despite the financial pressure, the comedian said he turned down the offer, recalling how the officials had tried to lure him to Abuja with the promise of a life-changing sum.
“I had a lot of bills on my head and I just heard come, come to Abuja, let’s change your life. Dollars upon dollars,” he said.
He said he ultimately held firm, guided by a personal code he had maintained throughout his career.
“I looked at it, I said, no, I am who I am. I’ve been here for a long time, and I’ve never been in any illegal thing, and I’ve never been somewhere, you know, I’m doing something because I’m being influenced, because of money.
“If I want to do it, it should be something I’m doing because I want to do it. So, you know, it is what it is,” he said.
When asked whether friends had urged him to accept the money, Chinedu said his inner circle was equally principled, and had themselves been approached and refused.
“I don’t have friends that are easily overwhelmed with money. I have people who have principles because they have, you know, approached them, they themselves. So, we always have that conversation,” he said.
Nigeria’s already fragile healthcare system is facing renewed strain as no fewer than 4,691 doctors have relocated to the United Kingdom since President Bola Tinubu assumed office on May 29, 2023, fresh data from the General Medical Council shows.
The UK GMC is a public official register detailing the number of practising doctors in the UK alongside other details such as their areas of speciality, country of training, among others.
The mass migration represents not just a human resource crisis but a significant economic loss.
With the Federal Government estimating that it costs about $21,000 to train a single doctor, Nigeria has effectively lost at least $98.5m in training investments within less than two years.
The figure put the total number of Nigeria-trained doctors currently practising in the UK to about 15,692, making Nigeria one of the largest sources of foreign-trained doctors in Britain, second only to India.
As of May 28, 2025, official records showed that the number of Nigerian-trained doctors in the UK was a little over 11,000. The figure has grown significantly since then.
The exodus of doctors comes as Nigeria’s doctor-to-population ratio hovers around 3.9 per 10,000 people, far below the minimum threshold recommended by the World Health Organisation.
For many health experts, the numbers confirm what has long been visible: a system gradually losing its most critical workforce.
The Nigerian Medical Association has repeatedly warned that poor remuneration, unsafe working conditions, and inadequate infrastructure are pushing doctors out of the country.
“Our members are overworked, underpaid and exposed to unsafe environments daily. Many are simply burnt out,” the NMA said in one of its recent statements addressing workforce migration.
Similarly, the National Association of Resident Doctors has consistently highlighted the toll on younger doctors, who form the backbone of Nigeria’s tertiary healthcare system.
“Doctors are leaving because the system is failing them—irregular salaries, excessive workload, and lack of training opportunities,” NARD noted during one of its nationwide engagements.
Ironically, the doctor exodus persists even as Nigeria continues to spend heavily on healthcare abroad.
While official foreign exchange data shows only modest spending on medical tourism in recent years, broader estimates suggest Nigerians still spend hundreds of millions of dollars annually seeking treatment overseas.
For instance, a recent report by The PUNCH revealed that foreign exchange outflow for health-related travel by Nigerians surged to $549.29m in the first nine months of 2025, a 17.96 per cent increase from $465.67m in the same period of 2024, according to official data by Nigeria’s apex bank.
A public health expert, Dr David Adewole, noted that the Federal Government’s national policy on health workforce migration, aimed at curbing the growing trend of health professionals leaving the country—commonly referred to as ‘Japa’—is a good initiative, but may not do much to address the fundamental problems of the shortage of skilled healthcare professionals in Nigeria, particularly in rural and underserved areas.
According to him, many of the push factors for health professionals emigrating to greener pastures, like insecurity, emolument and lack of basic amenities like potable water, health facilities, cost of living and constant electricity, persisted.
He stated: “To make healthcare workers stay here, let the salaries be enough so that what you earn will be much more than the multiples of what you need for basic needs, like food, power supply, housing, and so forth.
“People still look at life after retirement. You might have a good policy, but its implementation is the issue. For example, you are retired, and for your retirement package, you don’t need to know anyone for it to be processed promptly.
“Then subsequently, your monthly pension, without pressing anybody, should be paid. Those things are not here.
“And when you go to the hospital abroad, if you tell them that you are in a hurry, you go to your home; they’ll bring the medicines to your doorstep.”
