You’ll probably remember the effect that Nicki Minaj’s legendary verse on Kanye West’s “Monster” had on you back in 2010 when it was released, a song which to this day elicits similar sentiments as the time it was released. Her unbridled confidence and limitless audacity set her apart in a song dominated by mainly men, a momentary marker in hip-hop history that slightly mirrors the current attitudes being embodied by rap’s womxn today.
A decade gone since that world-stopping verse, hip-hop/rap has gone through several phases, shedding the skin of its past, morphing with the trends, and adapting to new climates and temperaments. Today, it benefits from a slew of female emcees ready to consistently dropping hits and amassing huge followings due to their authenticity. This is what has led to the paradigm shift we’re experiencing today, discernable in the likes of Megan Thee Stallion, Cardi B, Saweetie, and Doja Cat constantly dominating the charts and our timelines. In a decade, it went from one woman being allowed on top one at a time to a wide range of multi-faceted rappers catering to different audiences.
The main difference now is that womxn in rap are no longer waiting to be recognised and are doing it all on their own terms causing enough noise to disrupt the industry and command attention. That’s why it would be unmeritorious to disregard the strides that they have made in recent years to get to this point where all the girls are winning and uplifting each other. From Megan thee Stallion to the City Girls, Flo Milli, Tierra Whack, Chika, Saweetie, Rico Nasty, Bbymutha, and more, rap’s womxn are making a strong case for the revival of womxn in rap, and not as mere pawns or accessories to male desire but as womxn in and of their own right. Hyper-sexual and irrefutably cocky, they are showing up and doing the work whether the industry is ready for them or not.
The best part yet is that it’s not restricted to the US alone. Here in Africa, where female emcees are far and few between, more and more womxn are challenging the status quo as they weaponise misogyny through the execution of their slick-mouthed bars. Loud, unapologetic, and sometimes both at the same time, these womxn are speaking unabashedly about their experiences–black womxn’s experiences–and thanks to social media platforms, they are tapping directly into their audiences with ease. For me, a black African womxn, witnessing womxn like Deto Black, Sampa the Great, Tkay Maidza, Lioness, AT Merari, Dee Koala, Phlow, Nadia Nakai, and more, speak lewdly about autonomy, rebellion, and sex while disregarding the purity culture that has been imbibed in us from a young, I am left feeling empowered and enlightened. Hip-hop/rap has had a long history with womxn’s sexuality but rather than seeing us as autonomous human beings, we are endlessly reduced, sexualized, and rendered one-dimensional. But not anymore, as these womxn are reclaiming their autonomy, giving an opportunity for womxn like myself to finally feel welcome and represented accurately in the world of rap.
In a year shrouded with so much black death, pain and suffering, black womxn deserve to see their experiences represented by those who have lived them. The markers of what constitutes to be “real rap” are endlessly shifting and being controlled through misogynistic gatekeepers, but these womxn do not care to be pigeon-holed and policed as they draw from a range of genres and sounds giving a fun, fresh take to the genre. And given that men have used gangster rap as a tool to empower each other and as a form of therapy for their mental stress, it follows that this should be the case for womxn too.
As FEMME MAG celebrates their New Beginnings month, I began to think of a world where womxn could exist unapologetically for themselves amidst our current reality where our experiences are still debated, politicised, and belittled. Being a black female rapper presents a unique set of struggles given that they are at the intersection of racism and misogyny. However, womxn are consistently defying the odds and allowing us to see ourselves and our experiences on screen. They embody new beginnings for all womxn as their unbridled confidence is almost symbiotic. Whether it’s Ictooicy brooding about her feelings or the witty, X-rated SGaWD rapping about men’s fragile egos and her sexual prowess, or even Dua Saleh highlighting the erasure of queer artists in their music, they deserve to be seen and heard. We should seek to celebrate their inherent differences and contributions to the genre as they use their music as a backdrop to represent wider injustices that womxn still face, from inefficiencies of romantic pairings with men, to the irresistible allure of their vaginas, or even something as mundane as shitting on their haters.
Though the climate remains fraught by unrelenting misogynists seeking to derail the efforts of these womxn, their resolve to consistently shatter glass ceilings endlessly endears them to a generation of young womxn. I, myself, am unable to explicate how womxn topping their game has strengthened my fortitude to break through the mold, a sentiment shared by numerous young womxn in my circle. Their poignant lyrics see us at our most base emotions, and for me, they quickly became my go-to for whenever I needed to feel confident and powerful, which, it turns out, is a majority of the time. And surely the more female rappers that pop up in different countries around the world, the more variety we get, catering to our voracious musical diets. As more womxn find the courage to pick up the mic, the more we take control of our narrative in hip-hop, and the higher the chances of reaching more young womxn around the world looking for a safe place to just be themselves away from society’s judgemental gaze.
