Getting To Know Black Sherif, Ghana’s New Street Preacher

It’s hard to ignore the meteoric rise of Black Sherif when his choruses and hooks have swiftly become some of the most shared and repurposed globally. From TikTok to Shazam and Instagram reels, short snippets of his anthems have topped ‘viral sound’ lists all over the world this past year, and in this new era of music, these are milestones of musical achievement. 

With no gimmicks, Black Sherif has reached those pinnacles in record time—all the way from Ghana. His brutally honest, straight-to-the-point verses—such as, “Of course I f*cked up! Who hasn’t f*cked up? Hands in the air,” from latest hit “Kwaku the Traveller”—have become the backing track for a tonne of fittingly meme-worthy clips. One skit features a man getting caught searching for new jobs at his current workplace, with him perfectly miming the lyrics in response to getting caught. Some of this virality is, of course, powered by the strong support from the youth of West Africa through their joint love of homegrown musical talent and comic relief. But much more credit should be given to the piercing vulnerability of Black Sherif’s voice and relatability in his words, which have been felt here in the UK and over in the States. “Someone somewhere can relate to my music,” he explains to me over Zoom with calm conviction. 

Black Sherif—also known as Blacko, Kwaku Frimpong, Kwaku The Hustler—started out back in 2019, filming and uploading homemade and purposefully raw day-in-the-life freestyle videos. This was a much more mellow Sherif, but that soon changed. It’s almost as if the pressure of the streets and perfect timing of drill’s rise in Ghana were slowly cooking up his current outburst of character.

‘Asakaa’, aka Ghanaian drill, now has a certified hit-maker on its hands. Before “Kwaku the Traveller” became the monster smash that it is, Black Sherif caught the attention of the masses last July with a two-part series of freestyles smartly titled “Sermon”. Like an ordained preacher for the streets, baptised by the fires of life, he lays down the “hustle” and what goes down in the “ghettos” of his hometown. Sherif goes straight in “like a raging storm” with true life stories, back to back, all from his teens. The follow-up, “Second Sermon”, didn’t disappoint either, catching the attention of West African superstars Wizkid and Burna Boy, with the latter jumping on the remix earlier this year. Both freestyles were his attempt at “beautifying” the harsh truths of the struggles that are so common to young men and women in Ghana. Rap-fuelled Cinderell-o stories, of sorts. 

Speaking to Black Sherif, you wouldn’t believe that this humble, calm and collected, slender figure—under a durag, in an all-black, biker-inspired fit—grew up in one of the toughest areas of Ghana: the infamous Zongo settlements in Konongo, Ashanti. His laid-back demeanour and honest grin has had him mistaken many times for a stoner, something he vehemently denies being. Some are even convinced that he may be older than he claims. The rumours don’t phase the 20-year-old, though. Wise beyond his years, he’s made it clear that he won’t take time to separate the truth from his art for listeners: whatever they’re looking for, they will find. 

There’s a jumpy, rhythmic bounce to Sherif’s lyricism, taking full advantage of the seesaw-like, high-and-low pitch variations of Ghana’s dialect and expression. He then marries this with well-produced, club-friendly yet gritty drill production. Though much of his lyrics are in his native tongue of Twi, the fire and rawness of his rap technique tears down any perceived language barrier, which many have tried to do but have fallen short.

Currently studying psychology at the University of Ghana, we caught up with Black Sherif—a devout Muslim—to find out who Mohammed Ismail Sherif Kwaku Frimpong really is. 

“I do see myself as a preacher for the streets. That’s where I’m from. I don’t only talk about the struggles, I also talk about the beauty of it. It’s not always negative.”