2 hours ago
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My first thought when contacted about guest editing the culture section in today’s Saturday magazine was: this will elevate me into an intellectual bracket far beyond my wildest dreams. The first person I told was my dad. The second was my secondary school English teacher, Mr Pickering. I guess it was a subtle way of letting them know that the student is now in charge.
It’s a truly wonderful feeling. Even if this entire takeover is trash, I’m still proud to have been given this wonderful opportunity. That said, I did get an A in my GCSE English and English Lit!
To give some context: I am not a writer, nor an intellectual or a journalist. I am Femi Koleoso, a musician from north London. Born to Nigerian parents and raised in Enfield, a corner of London paved with gold, I started playing the drums at church (I know, typical). This became more than a hobby; it was a deep-set love, nurtured in the UK’s wonderful state school system and polished in powerful youth clubs. Today, I travel the world with my band, Ezra Collective, playing and producing music, DJing and broadcasting on BBC Radio 6 Music for a living. If there were a version of the “British-Nigerian dream” that didn’t involve becoming a lawyer, accountant or doctor, you could say my family and I got pretty close.
There’s power in a happy story; it brings hope. Normal school, amazing career. That’s the dream, right? That said, joy is at the centre of who I am, and every day I am filled with hope for the future.
But is there really reason to have hope for the future? Though I often only want to talk about Arsenal football club and playing the drums, I am well-informed enough to see the many reasons to lose all hope, not just for the future of the UK but the world. But while I acknowledge that, I believe there is a counter argument. I believe there is reason to have hope for the future of the UK and beyond; perhaps in this guest edit, I’m building a case for a more positive outlook on things.
The word “hope” has many definitions, but as my dear friend, the actor Letitia Wright, wonderfully phrases it via spoken-word interludes on our new album, Here Because of Hope, hope also captures the belief that on the other side of pain there can be renewal. There’s joy after mourning. Beauty from the ashes. Even when you don’t know how or when things will change, there can still be something inside you that believes your feet will eventually land on solid ground.
So on one side, you have pain; on the other, there will be joy. And hope is a marker on that spectrum that brings you from one end to the other; it makes you feel like getting to joy might be possible.
Being a musician, I see that hope most eloquently articulated in songs. Songs born out of pain bring joy. Fela Kuti wrote a song about his mother being executed by the Nigerian government – and its bassline became a club anthem. The pain and hardship of life in poverty-ridden council estates gave us grime music, which has people sweating and smiling in clubs. Calypso even emerged out of the horrors of the transatlantic slave trade.
The fuel for this wide-ranging artistic output, across continents and centuries is, for me, hope. In these features, you’ll be able to read about some people and stories that bring me out of pain and into joy; stories that bring me hope.
Collective decisions: Ezra’s cultural picks
Film: The Secret Agent
I watched The Secret Agent recently while on a long drive to a show in Italy. It’s an intense story and Wagner Moura is incredible. I love the way director Kleber Mendonça Filho so immersively takes you into 70s Brazil. TJ Koleoso
Album: Rosa Passos – Recriação
Recriação by Rosa Passos is a beautiful album, with minimal instrumentation but used in the most perfect way. Especially the drumming. It’s often just kick drum, rather than the full kit, and it works incredibly well. Also, if anybody knows what synth they used on the record, please let me know. Joe Armon-Jones
Live music: Southbank Centre
Rather than go the traditional album-film-TV-show route, I’m picking the Southbank Centre. As part of its 75th-anniversary celebrations, it chose to celebrate the steelpan, and I had the privilege of watching loads of young bands play. It was a “best of London” feeling just seeing so many different generations, cultures and people all dancing and celebrating the joy that togetherness and music can bring. Femi Koleoso
Film: My Father’s Shadow
My pick is Akinola Davies Jr’s 2025 film My Father’s Shadow, a Nigerian coming-of-age tale. I watched it recently and loved it. The storytelling was great and it felt so raw. It had so much cultural depth, which I could resonate with as a Nigerian. Ife Ogunjobi
Album: KeiyaA – Hooke’s Law
I’m really into Hooke’s Law by KeiyaA at the moment. Ife put me on to this record when we were on tour in Italy and I haven’t put it down since. I love it when artists take us on a journey through different sound worlds within one album, as I think it creates such a rich and beautiful piece of art. Throughout this album it feels as if she’s not confined to one thing, which gives it a really original energy and makes it a truly unique and captivating listen. She produced it all as well and, sonically, it’s really tasty. James Mollison
