By Taiwo Olabode
Twinhood has always carried its own mythology in Nigerian music. From the Lijadu Sisters’ spiritual harmonies to P-Square’s era-defining dominance, down to DNA and Boybreed’s contemporary runs, duos born from the same womb have a way of bending sound into something only blood can create.
The Kazez fit neatly — and yet completely differently — into that lineage.
Growing up as twins gave them a shorthand, a shared intuition that doesn’t need words. “Our kind of twins is that, if Taiwo was doing something, then Kehinde is doing it as well… If I fall sick today, my brother will fall sick in the next few days. It’s always been that,” they say. That synchronicity is now the invisible architecture of their music. “It’s always been, ‘we’re going to do whatever we’re going to do together’ as a unit.”
In the last 18 months, that unit has quietly become one of the engines of Afrobeats’ evolving rhythm.
The Kazez’s fingerprints are everywhere; the twin brothers have racked up a slew of major songwriting and production credits.
They helped carve the soul of Kummie’s Arike, a record born from a moment of pure creative intuition. “As soon as we heard his voice, we were like, this guy is absolutely amazing… He reminded us of ourselves right before we did Jericho.”
On Lojay’s XOXO, they shaped one of the project’s standout records, Jericho, with their magic pen. Working with Lojay, they say, requires a kind of emotional endurance. “We did like six or seven sessions where we literally did not come out with any song… but Jericho came to me. It was effortless. As soon as I heard the beat, I just sang, ‘Jericho, Jericho…’” That moment of ease became the record that carried their imprint into the heart of the project.
Then came Adekunle Gold’s Fuji — where they contributed not just Lailo, but also Many People, one of the biggest songs of the last quarter of the year. The two records expanded the album’s texture and emotional palette, cementing them not as background collaborators, but as sonic architects shaping the direction of entire projects.
And before this current run, there was Intoxycated — Oxlade and Dave’s global breakout from 2023. Its success didn’t shock them; it simply affirmed a belief they’d held quietly. Still, giving songs like that away often comes with emotional heaviness. “There are a lot of songs that I’ve given out right now that I wish I had put out by myself… but realistically, I knew I didn’t have the resources to give those songs what they deserved.”
They are honest about what the journey requires, but even that honesty bends toward optimism: “What’s ours will be ours… even the songs we give out, they’re still our songs because we’re making money from them.”
What makes their rise even more compelling is the ecosystem around them.
They aren’t lone geniuses. They are part of a micro-community built in shared childhoods — P.Prime, Oladapo, Semzi, Fortune — boys who unknowingly engineered Afrobeats’ next movement from bedrooms and backyards. “We all grew up in the estate… all these people you mentioned, we literally grew up together. It’s destiny.”
So when Myles Lewis Skelly — Arsenal FC player, England International, and global star — posted their song, Go Harder, it felt like the world was simply catching up. “I didn’t understand until they tagged me… My guys called me and were screaming.” Another quiet nod, another ripple affirming a journey built on precision rather than noise. “Our career is like a slow-burning movie… towards the end, the reward is going to be crazy.”
The Kazez’s run isn’t flashy.
But it is intentional and rooted in survival.
“We shoot our own videos, edit our own pictures… the reason we learned production was that we couldn’t afford producers. It was survival. Either we do it, or we die.” And beneath the craftsmanship lies something simple and human: “Honestly, our unique point is that we don’t ever want to be broke again… the fight against Sapa is real.”
Now, they’re preparing their next chapter — stepping out from behind the boards. “We have two projects ready for 2026… We’re going to bombard you people with music.” The songwriting will continue, the collaborations will expand, but the world will hear them — their voices, their stories, their sound.
Because their contribution already stretches beyond credits or placements. The Kazez are part of Afrobeats’ invisible scaffolding — shaping rhythms artists trust, textures that cross borders, and melodies that feel both new and instinctively familiar.
Their journey is still unfolding, but they already know exactly where they stand.
“Can’t leave Afrobeats alone, the game needs us.” — their words, their mission, their declaration.
And the truth is, it does.
