Tormentone, the Italians say, loosely translates to ‘earworm’ or perhaps, a catchy tune. Such a word is the only thing to describe the antics that Sien Essien has used to market his latest project, Sien Street Jamz, a cross-cultural exchange party… in Ikotun.
Sien Essien, known colloquially as Sien, is a recently turned 22-year-old videographer, most notable for his work with the young adult publication, Native Magazine. Born and raised in Ikotun, Lagos, Sien’s persona defies everything the ‘nepo babies’ of Lagos are taught about Ikotun. He’s whimsical, charismatic, well-spoken, well-read, and well-aware of the stereotypes.
“Everyone says, you’re different. I know what they mean, but I’m not. I always insist I’m not, I was born and raised in Ikotun, I could show you my Ikotun side,” he jokes. Lately, he has been leaning into this Ikotun side of his to market Sien Street Jamz. From dropping a “Lekki diss track” to making customised Lacoco drinks. Sien is making the event inescapable and, in turn, committing a Gen Z cardinal social sin… he’s trying.
Today marks the last day of being 21 for Sien. The dark skinned, six-foot-plus man sits in a dimly lit room, where the only thing you can see is his face and hair. His chin-length dreads make them hard to miss, and he laughs at the comparison of his hairstyle to his marketing tactic. “You know it’s intentional. We are shoving the Street Jamz down people’s throats via social media, aiming for virality, because we have no budget.”
That statement becomes even funnier when Sien responds that by ‘we,‘ he means himself. “It started with just me. But now, I’m trying to pull in partners, and I’ve reached out to a team.”
He is very open and welcoming to any donations and sponsors. While his dreams are big, his pockets are not. In a tweet, he suggests, “If you can sponsor tickets for people, volunteer, use me as CSR in your label, any way at all because this p is fully independent.”
For someone with a large-scale event in a week, Sien appears relaxed as he pokes fun at himself. “My mantra has always been ‘Do it against all odds’. There’s such a large fear of failure. But it is really nothing, don’t get me wrong, it hurts, but let’s go again.”
He provides anecdotes to solidify his mantra, citing examples from his childhood. “I did a fashion show in SS2. It was for a church member whom I had convinced that I had a fashion line ready and would like to showcase it. I talked a big game, and they said okay. But I didn’t have a collection ready. I had no sponsor either, but in two weeks, I created one.”
On the example of failed projects, he notes a 2019 Ikotun hangout that he organised. It flopped, expeditiously. “Barely anyone came, and those who did left when they didn’t see anyone there.”
His attempts to cement his mantra show more passion than they do surety. If you’ve lived on Nigerian Twitter long enough, you’ve probably run into some of his previous viral tweets. One in particular is his application for Native Magazine.
Was Native even looking for a videographer? Unimportant. Traditional routes have never really been Sien’s thing. He simply subjected them to an animated video explaining why they need not just any videographer, but him.
This ties a lot into his psychology, and eventually, it answers the question everyone on Sien’s timeline wants to ask, “Why Ikotun?”
ADDRESSING THE IKOTUN IN THE ROOM:
A fascinating lore about Ikotun is that it is a highly sought-after location for thousands of Africans in the Eastern and Southern Hemispheres of Africa. While Nigerians often regurgitate phrases like,” I will not die in Ikotun.” Kenyans, Tanzanians, and South Africans save up to visit the region. Of course, they are not coming for the tourism that the Alimosho local government offers. But for the miracles that The Synagogue, Church of All Nations promises.
However, this constant foreign exposure doesn’t spill over into the streets of Ikotun. For the average person, life in Ikotun is linear, with the ultimate dream goal being escape.
“I’ve seen the memes. To be honest, I’ve used the memes. I don’t want to die in Ikotun is a classic. I don’t want to die in Ikotun either, but this is my life right now. I could have left Ikotun years ago, but I want to make an impact. I don’t want to live despite my surroundings. I want to live, I want to make a fantasy out of it.”
Sien’s often out of Ikotun. He, to an extent, enjoys his youth. I should know, I’ve only met him at raves and festivals. However, this constant transportation to the bourgeois capitals comes at a heavy financial cost. He recounts, “Every day, I pay 17,000 Naira for an Uber to the island. People find it strange, but every non Islander can relate. Everything seems to be on the island these days. I’d like the Islanders to meet us halfway.”
There’s a bite in the last sentence. “You know, I began this journey to Sien’s Street Jamz out of anger. Why? Why always the island? But over time, it has become a matter of why not? Come see the hood, my hood. What’s so bad about my Ikotun? It takes a lot to come to the island and back, and the kids in Ikotun have a lot to benefit from seeing the outside kids.”
He explains that there’s a vast cultural divide between the bourgeois society of Lagos. “I remember the first time I went to the island alone. It was in 2021. I was invited by a friend, Emmy The Creator. It is very different. I decided early in life that I wasn’t going to do the typical lawyer, doctor, or engineer path, but I saw a community of kids who did the same. They were passionate about art, fashion, photography, and many other pursuits. They were held in high regard as well. I want that for Ikotun.”
For him, growing up in Ikotun, outside the traditional path, often meant fraud. It’s the path you subliminally see everywhere. In time, you give in and begin to think it’s the only way out.
Out of what? Well, it is the obvious, poverty. Sien doesn’t disillusion himself about the realities of Ikotun. He simply wants the kids of Ikotun to be able to see and connect to their dreams. “They can be everything they want to be, too; they just have to be able to think it. I’ve always seen myself as a servant in the way that I want to change people’s lives. I’ve seen people get wasted in the trenches. I want to spark a light in the kids.”
He displaces my biggest concern, the security, saying, “The venue is in an enclosed space and I have hired an experienced security team. There will be surveillance throughout.
In some ways, Sien’s a kid himself; he has been working since he was 14, so his demeanour makes it hard to believe. But he’d like to remind everyone that inside the icon, there’s still a young boy from Ikotun.