🥤The problem with culture's big 3

👋 Good afternoon! Nigerian Twitter is still running—literally. Lagos Life, the simulation game inspired by the chaos and charm of Lagos, has reportedly hit a $10 million valuation just three days after incorporation, following a $500,000 angel round. And I’ve been screaming since I heard the news. WHAT?!

Think about it: a game its creator came up with on a whim after watching Danfo Run has attracted this kind of attention in less than a week. A WHIM! Sometimes, an idea really is all it takes to get the ball rolling.

Let’s get into it.

In this edition: This week in culture, Olorunjowo is exploring Lagos one dispatch ride at a time, and the Big 3s in culture. New Music Friday and more.

If you’re enjoying this, don’t forget to subscribe and join The Juice community. We’re building this together ♡.

🗞️ THIS WEEK IN CULTURE

🎵 MUSIC

This week, Ayra Starr finally dropped the visuals for Heaven Baby, bringing ZAYN into the picture for the highly anticipated collaboration. The video quickly gained views, though we were hoping for a more developed storyline to match the song’s message.

Either way, we loved watching Ayra Starr and ZAYN on our screens. We’re just happy to be here! 

📽️ FILM

Nigeria is heading to the Oscars again! Damilola Orimogunje’s Dear Ajayi has been selected as Nigeria’s official submission for Best International Feature Film at the 99th Academy Awards on March 14, 2027.

Set in 1990s southwestern Nigeria, the Nigeria-Germany production follows two estranged sisters forced to live together and care for their paralysed mother. The cast includes Bimbo Akintola, Tosin Adeyemi, Lanre Hassan and Uzoamaka Power.

Following a strong festival run, including the Enrico Fulchignoni Prize and Bisato d’Oro at Venice, Dear Ajayi puts Nigeria back in the race after missing the 98th Oscars.

📚 LITERATURE

Zimbabwean writer Simbarashe Steyn Kundizeza has won the 2026 Caine Prize for African Writing, taking home the £10,000 prize for The Blue Fighter.

The short story explores parenthood, ambition, and the tough financial choices struggling families face. Kundizeza’s win adds another Zimbabwean voice to the list of writers recognized by one of Africa’s biggest literary platforms.

✨SPOTLIGHT

Shalom Rayhumen’s simulation game Lagos Life is no longer just an overnight sensation. Vatar Inc., the company behind the game, has raised $500,000 in pre-seed funding at a $10 million valuation.

Investors include Flutterwave CEO Olugbenga Agboola, Terra CEO Nathan Nwachukwu, Mono CEO Abdulhamid Hassan, and angel investor O.O. Nwoye. The deal closed in a single day. 

With over 4 million players and 30.5 million recorded visits, it shows what can happen when Nigerian creators build what the people want, and the people turn up in return. Have you checked it out?

⚡TRENDING

The Federal Government has announced a 30-day petrol discount at NNPC filling stations, with public transport operators receiving priority. Under the arrangement, NNPC Retail will forgo its retail profit margin and sell petrol at cost, reportedly at ₦1,350 per liter.

But with fuel prices affecting transport fares and the cost of living, Nigerians might need more than a temporary breather.

MAIN SQUEEZE

Olorunjowo is exploring Lagos one dispatch ride at a time

Fehintola “Olorunjowo” Caleb never imagined he would become a dispatch rider. But after finding himself in the job, he began documenting his daily rides and the routes, places, and experiences he encounters along the way. 

In this conversation, he tells The Juice about finding a new routine, seeing Lagos differently from the back of a bike, and what dispatch riding has taught him about class and communication.

You’ve completed almost 250 deliveries, with more than 200 five-star ratings and a 4.99 overall rating on Uber. When did you start dispatch riding, and why?

I got into dispatch riding in May 2026, two months after I returned from Ghana. I never imagined I would become a dispatch rider. I used to be full of life.

I started out as a graphic designer, designing annual reports and infographics, with NGOs as my clients. Then President Trump came in and stopped funding a lot of them, so they started downsizing.

I moved into the business of sourcing capital, mostly RMB and USDT deals, which was doing very, very well until a business partner ran away with my capital. The case is still with the EFCC. 

You started documenting your daily rides and sharing them online. What made you think your everyday experience as a dispatch rider was something people would want to see?

This is not my first time doing something like this. As far back as 2016, I ran social media meme pages and grew one to three million followers before Facebook suspended the account.

I strongly believe that if you are doing anything organic and you are able to document it and tell a story, it will blow up sooner or later. Even if it is washing plates every day.

I’ve tried to sell this idea to friends who do routine jobs, but they didn’t get it. Now that I’ve picked up a routine job, I thought, why not? Even though I’m still scared of putting my face out there, I’ll still do what I preach..

In your posts, you map out details of your routes and deliveries. Why was it important to document the journey this way, rather than simply sharing videos of your day?

It took me months to figure out a pattern. I watched other creators film their days and rant about them online.

During my research, I checked out the UK delivery community and found this guy, Tommy Logistics, who creates and posts similar content. He inspired me, and with my computer know-how, I was able to figure out how to do it.

What has dispatch riding taught you about Lagos and the people you encounter that you probably wouldn’t have learnt from simply moving around the city normally?

I’ve done over 1,000 deliveries in total now, and I’ve discovered that classism is deep-rooted in the average Nigerian’s blood, soul, and mind. I’ve also begun to repent of some behaviors I once had myself. 

I also confirmed that LAGOS IS NOT BIG. I used to think some places were very far because I grew up in Ikorodu. Whenever I heard Mile 2 or Oworonshonki, I had that “I’m travelling” vibe in mind. See me now chopping 30km delivery like robo-robo chew gum.

You can literally pass through every local government in Lagos at 60km/h in less than 12hours on a bike. Starting from Badagry, to Lekki, to Epe, to Ikorodu, and stop at Constain. I use an electric bicycle, and I’ve gone from Ogolonto, Ikorodu, to Mile 2 and back in five hours at a maximum speed of 25km/h.

Your rating suggests that customers consistently have a good experience with you. What do you think you do differently that keeps people coming back or leaving those ratings?

Communication. Most Nigerians communicate poorly. I have a background in communication, so just from talking with you on the phone, I can guess your point of view and act accordingly.

What has been the hardest part of doing this work, whether on the road, with customers, or simply keeping up with the demands of the job?

Customers delay you at either pickup or drop-off, and I think because they don’t get sanctioned for delays, they assume it’s normal. Let me put it into context. A ₦2,000 delivery takes about 15 to 30 minutes. So if I’m picking up, it’s expected that you are already prepared for me. In less than five minutes, I should be on the move, and vice versa.

But that’s not always the case, and I end up making less money when I get delayed. This puts pressure on the rider, and I get angrier because I made less money. It makes me understand why dispatch riders are labelled as being angry 24/7.

It’s funny, but each time I pick up from or deliver to a foreigner or Nigerians who have lived abroad for a good number of years. They hardly delay you. Hardly. For these reasons, I’ve stopped picking up from and delivering to certain estates. It doesn’t worth it.

What is your dream?

Sugar Daddy Life. And I'll get there.

🔪 THE PEEL

The problem with culture’s big 3

The discourse

Stella Damasus recently found herself at the center of a debate she didn't start. Speaking on the Pulse Old Vs New podcast, she recalled a time when she, Omotola Jalade-Ekeinde and Genevieve Nnaji were known as the “Big 3” actresses of old Nollywood, and how criticism and fan preferences meant they had to work twice as hard.

Nothing in that was boastful. She was describing a label the public gave her and what it meant to live under it. Yet the conversation quickly became about whether Damasus was ever part of the trio in the first place.

But what stands out isn't whether Damasus belongs on the list or not, but why we create these lists in the first place, and why being left off one can sometimes feel like a verdict on an entire career.

Peeling it back

We do this across cultures, from music and film to sports and fashion. We turn entire generations of creatives into narratives, then spend even more time deciding who deserves a place at the top of them.

Football has spent years turning Messi and Ronaldo into a two-man conversation about greatness, even when exceptional players existed outside it. Nigerian music fans have made an art of this too.

Wizkid, Davido and Burna Boy have long been packaged as Afrobeats' “Big 3”, and the argument over who belongs, who is number one and who should be added never really ends. More recently, fans have stretched the conversation to accommodate artists like Rema and Asake, and jokingly seek to expand into a Big 4.

There is some value in this, as these class rankings give audiences an easy way to understand a generation, celebrate achievements, and monumental moments. A quick question of the Big 3 gives people context for an era.

Tiwa Savage has pushed back on this directly. She argued that reducing Afrobeats to three names ignores the many artists contributing to the continent's music, pointing to names including Tems, Rema, Asake, Yemi Alade, and Flavour. She also suggested that the narrative persists partly because the artists usually mentioned have particularly active fan bases.

Also, what do these lists measure? Performances, influence, longevity, popularity, or simply who has the loudest supporters?

Another layer

Greatness does not always arrive with an immediate title, and recognition does not always come at the same time as the work.

18th century artist Vincent van Gogh is an extreme example. He received little recognition during his lifetime and sold only one painting, although he had begun attracting some critical attention by the time he died. His reputation grew dramatically after his death. If greatness were only determined by who was recognized at the right time, history would have looked very different.

And perhaps the clearest example of what recognition can do to everyone outside the spotlight came from a Nigerian model who recently shared a vulnerable post on Twitter.

She wrote about the pang she feels whenever she sees another Nigerian model leave the country to walk in Paris, Milan or London, wondering if she is doing enough and whether her own dreams will ever happen. She has been modelling for years, she said, putting in the work and taking care of her body, yet still feels she has to work twice as hard to get where she wants to be.

When a small group is constantly presented as the people at the top, everyone else can begin to measure their own progress against them. The ranking may be intended as a celebration, but it can quietly become a measure of worth.

And that is where the “Big 3” becomes more complicated, because not being included on the list does not mean the work is insignificant. But when the same names are repeatedly presented as the definitive best, it becomes easy to mistake visibility as such.

The core

People don't need to stop making their lists. They can be fun, and arguing about who is the greatest is part of how culture works. The problem is treating those rankings as definitive.

Stella Damasus does not become less significant to Nollywood because audiences have a different Big 3. Tiwa Savage does not become less influential because she rejects the idea of reducing Afrobeats to three names.

A Big 3 can be a useful shorthand to celebrate the pacesetters and dominators at a particular moment, but it cannot serve as the complete history of a field.

🎵 PRESSED BY THE JUICE

Fresh sounds from our playlist to you! This week, we’ve got tracks from FOLA’s new album titled 9, plus new music from NO11, WAVE$TAR, and Zaylevelten. Turn up your speakers and get into it.

Save your favorites, as New Music Box💿 is updated every Friday! 

Do you have a song you’d like us to include? Put us on; reply here.