10 Signature Songs and Dances That Defined Nigerian Pop Culture
In West Africa’s pop ecosystem, dance has always accompanied songs like a pulse before a beat drop. Every dance era has carried a story that were cultural scaffolds that shaped how we moved, dressed, and documented joy. Each dance came with the pulse of its time, mirroring social life, tech evolution, and creative audacity. These dance routines served as unspoken signals that a song wasn’t solely for listening, but for movement, imitation, and mass participation. From open-air street corners to televised countdowns, every era of Nigerian music has had its defining move that choreographed joy, rebellion, or both. These were the dances that built a culture around songs, turning regular hits into national anthems, and fleeting trends into full-blown eras.
Below we’ve curated a list of 10 signatures songs and dances that defined Nigerian pop culture from Skelewu to Shoki.
Alanta – Raymond King Gbaji (2009)
Before there was social media virality, there was the chaotic ‘Alanta’; a dance so comically expressive it looked like physical satire. “Alanta” is an early example of a home-grown Lagos street step that lives in party archives. The dance move which accompanied Raymond King Gbaji’s 2009 smash hit ‘Alanta’ thrived not only because of the song’s groove but because it was easy to copy, funny to film and perfect for small-screen loop culture, the pre-Instagram viral era. The move was built around limp limbs, sharp arm swings, and a deliberate lack of coordination that somehow synced with almost any upbeat song from that era, persisting as a street staple and influence for later novelty dance tracks.
Till date, the “Alanta” dance routine remains a street invention immortalized by noise, humour, and swagger, a chaotic dance move that walked so other chaotic steps could run.
Skelewu – Davido (2013)
Davido’s “Skelewu” is one of the textbook Afrobeats examples of artist-led choreography becoming a countrywide phenomenon. Following the release of the song in 2013 and the creeping advent of social media, ‘Skelewu‘ became the first Afrobeats dance raised in the algorithm, with a deliberate mission to turn rhythm and groove into dance ritual. As a quick follow up of the song’s success Davido ran a nationwide dance contest and an instructional choreography video, effectively gamifying Nigerian pop before it became a marketing playbook. The Skelewu dance routine involved a casual shoulder pop, chest roll, and wrist wave that spread fast like a pandemic. The official tutorial also came with a cash prize competition that turned Skelewu into a YouTube and street festival staple picked up by footballers and influencers and even remixed by international producers. Two months after the release of the instructional dance video, Davido released the official music video which intensified the momentum of the song and dance move, inducting Skelewu into Afrobeats dance hall of fame.
Kukere – Iyanya (Etigi, 2013)
‘Kukere‘ was released as Iyanya’s breakout lead single, tied to his 2013 ‘Desire’ album cycle first circulated from 2011 into 2012 before blowing up. Iyanya’s Kukere is a sterling example of how regional dances in this case from the South-South, can be packaged for national consumption. Rooted in Efik street-party movement, Kukere champions exaggerated waist/hip rolls and a swaggering stomp — the Etighi variant emphasizes shoulder and arm phrasing over the hips.
Kukere saw Iyanya’s reframe a local carnival energy into pop star choreography, from clubs to concerts and wedding parties, he mainstreamed the Etighi dance from Calabar into the national spotlight. The success of the song came with a wide adoption of the dance style, and the dance helped Iyanya cross from an industry insider to mainstream headliner. The song’s breezy tempo and Tekno’s production gave Etighi’s waist-driven motion the sonic freedom it needed to flourish, with Iyanya’s polished delivery wrapping a local movement in pop gloss, and listeners responded with their hips first.
Azonto – Fuse ODG (2013)
No dance carried West Africa’s soft power quite like Azonto. Born in Ghana, Fuse ODG’s 2013 global hit came with a dance style that soon turned the into a pan-African export. It wasn’t one step but a sort of vocabulary — quick, narrational hand gestures and nimble footwork that can mime everyday life. Azonto was super-versatile and endlessly customisable by dancers. While the dance itself is believed to have originated in Ghana earlier, Fuse’s single feat. Itz Tiffany which was globally released and promoted in 2013 brought Azonto to UK/African party circuits.
Azonto stands as a continental case study of how a dance can become a global export. From Accra to London, Azonto was freedom of expression disguised as a dance craze that permeated weddings, university parties, diaspora circuits, and Fuse’s song became its anthem
Alingo – P-Square (2013)
P-Square’s ‘Alingo‘ felt like a choreographer’s fever dream with its fast, complex, and synchronised steps that only the Okoye twins could pull off without dislocating something. Released in 2013, Alingo built on their showmanship and took cues from the Azonto wave, sparking debates on dance originality across Ghana and Nigeria. The Alingo moment showed how a major pop act can package a new step as a brandable dance. The Alingo dance moves were choreographed, televised and then scrutinised for similarity to other dances, particularly “Azonto” which originated from Ghana. However, there was no denying that Alingo rapid, tightly synchronized leg patterns combined with fast upper-body accents was designed for spectacle, and belonged on big stages, in award performances, in every moment that made Nigerian pop feel cinematic.
Shoki – Lil Kesh (2014)
At a pivotal era in Lil Kesh’s music career which saw him dominating the streets’ nooks and crannies with several hits came a pop dance style Shoki that swept across the country like wildfire, with both young and old embracing and participating in the chaotic dance routine. Shoki an aggressive foot-stomp and lean with a quirky arm flick became shorthand for the new Lagos street energy. It was streetwise and deliberately adolescent; made to be performed individually and in groups spurring dance challenge, submissions and viral video clips. Shoki particularly connected with the youths, exploding in schools, clubs and on the internet. YBNL’s youth marketing utilized remixes, high-energy visuals and celebrity shout-outs) made the dance a generational cue with a whole street grammar form around it. The remix culture featuring bigger artists amplified the move across playlists and live sets. When Lil Kesh dropped Shoki in 2014 under YBNL, he gave Nigerian teens their first viral identity. And everyone from colleagues like Davido and Wizkid had their own Shoki moment, and for a brief time, it seemed every party was a Shoki Olympics. Rightly so, Shoki was youth culture at its most electric.
Bobo (Shakiti) – Olamide (2015)
Olamide has always been a bridge between street rap and pop, and Bobo was his most graceful merger yet. The “Shakiti Bobo” move, a half-jump/half-kick step with sharp hand snaps immediately became not only a Lagos mainstay but more than half the country’s. Released 2015, during the ‘Eyan Mayweather’ era; the phrase “Shakiti Bobo” tagged the dance in press and street conversation, re-anchoring rap-led dance moves into mainstream party culture. “Bobo” was a street anthem that carried dance crews and became shorthand for YBNL’s brand of Lagos energy equal parts hype, studio craft and visual swagger. The dance move reinforced how rappers (not only pop stars) could engineer viral steps. Shakiti was easy enough to mimic, yet kinetic and designed to read well on camera.
With Olamide’s bars carrying his usual street lingo, the dance gave it life, ultimately making a soundtrack for self-assured cool, one that captured the swaggering optimism of mid-2010s Afropop.
Sekem – Mc Galaxy (2016)
Few songs have been as unserious and effective as Sekem. Released around 2014 but finding full cultural bloom by 2016, Mc Galaxy’s Sekem was goofy, catchy, and magnetic. The dance itself looked like freestyle gymnastics, complete with shoulder rolls and jumpy footwork accompanied with a comic chant turned popular hook. But beneath the humour was precision and a deliberate play on how unseriousness can become a brand and Mc Galaxy built a short-lived but powerful empire off it. Sekem — an acrobatic-lean and leg flick with a catchy arm signature visual shorthand soon became a popular staple, that eventually gave birth to a remix and collaborations.
Gaga Shuffle – Larry Gaga ft. 2Baba (2017)
Gaga Shuffle , hybrid of smooth shuffle footwork and coastal Galala / party steps designed to be danced in slow-to-mid tempo settings was popularised in 2017 via 2Baba’s single that credited Larry Gaga’s party routine, amplifying the move in the official music video. Gaga Shuffle shows the older-generation artist folding a newer street step into mainstream pop. By naming and centring the move in a 2Baba single, Larry Gaga’s party choreography reached a wider demographic of club dancers, celebrities, and cross-generation dance floors. Gaga Shuffle is an example of a cultural handoff that involved a laidback half-shuffle, half-sway made for champagne lounges, and mature dancefloors reminded everyone that grown folks still had groove.
Zanku (Legwork) – Zlatan (2018)
Then came Zanku, the dance that turned stamina into art. Short for “Zlatan Abeg No Kill Us,” it was part workout, part warfare, legs kicking, arms swinging, feet stamping like they had something to prove. Zlatan’s 2018 breakout not only gave Afrobeats its most kinetic era since “Shoki” but redefined Lagos street identity. Zanku became a subculture, birthing sound packs, and slang. Zlatan’s brand and the shorthand “Zanku” — “Zlatan Abeg No Kill Us” quickly attached to both the song and the dance. The dance was a movement of sweat, pride, and full-throttle energy that announced the streets were now the main stage.
Zanku, the signature “legwork” shuffle that ends with a quick leg kick and poses; energetic, aggressive and readily personalised by each dancer became one of the most durable Nigerian dance exports of the late 2010s. With it arrived Zlatan’s larger-than-life ad-libs and a DIY street aesthetic, and the move quickly became an entire wave: producers borrowed the rhythm, club DJs looped the legwork, and Zlatan turned the brand into a record label name and album title. Zanku is the kind of dance that birthed subcultures (local crews, branded challenges) and reinforced the Lagos mainland sound as pop culture fuel.
