The year 2020 was good to some people and rapper Mr Tobe Nwigwe is one of them. For someone whose motto is to “make purpose popular”, Mr Nwigwe found himself on the receiving end of popularity instead. First, it was when Ms Michelle Obama included the song “I’m Dope” on her workout playlist last January. A co-sign from Beyoncé followed in May, when she added the song “Jockin” to her playlist on Tidal. Then “I Need You To” happened. A 44-second song calling for the arrest of the police officers involved in the killing of Ms Breonna Taylor, it caught the attention of Madonna, Mr LeBron James, Ms Alicia Keys and many others. On Spotify’s end-of-year reveal of anthems that soundtracked the 2020 Black Lives Movement, “I Need You To” clinched the second spot.

Was it difficult to reconcile finding breakout success by way of a devastating event such as police brutality? “No, it hasn’t been difficult,” Mr Nwigwe tells MR PORTER. “Because we’ve had [these] challenges since the beginning of us doing what we’re doing. It’s just been highlighted on a global scale because of the internet.”

Mr Nwigwe, 33, is not using the royal we here. His may be the name on the track, but it is very much a collective effort. Mr Nwigwe works closely with his wife, Fat, and producer Ms LaNell “Nell” Grant, both of whom always appear in the music videos; they are also supported by a team of instrumentalists, and dancers known as the Black Angels Collective.

With their plans of touring scuppered, in September, the collective performed their only show of 2020 in September. They called it The Pandemic Experience and streamed it worldwide, live from the White Oak Music Hall in Houston. They also performed at the BET Hip-Hop Awards, appeared in a commercial for the NBA and Apple Music, played at comedian Mr Dave Chappelle’s “summer camp” event and gained an Instagram following of a million (and growing) in the process. Not bad for independent artists with no backing from a label.

Growing up in the Alief neighbourhood of Houston with immigrant Nigerian parents who wanted their son to be a doctor, lawyer or engineer, music was never the plan for Mr Nwigwe. But football was – he played for the University of North Texas and hoped to make it in the NFL before an injury ended his aspirations. It wasn’t plan B, either. It wasn’t even a plan at all; it was a calling, born of a desire to help young Houstonians discover their purpose (Mr Nwigwe founded an educational non-profit organisation called TeamGINI in 2010). The medium just happens to be music.

“I do life music,” Mr Nwigwe says. “For those who need help manoeuvring through life and for those who are already living life, I help you live it more abundantly. That’s what my music, my art, my words do.” 

After receiving encouraging feedback for a freestyle he posted on social media in the summer of 2016, Mr Nwigwe began uploading videos to YouTube on a weekly basis, known as #GetTwistedSundays. A pandemic edition sprang forth in 2020 – the “quarantine series” – featuring the weekly song drops along with Q&As and IG Live sessions.

“Try Jesus” was one of the weekly drops, and it quickly garnered more than two million views on YouTube, earning Mr Nwigwe his first appearance on the Billboard chart. Ostensibly a gospel ballad, Mr Nwigwe’s smooth singing voice belies the contentious lyrics of the song, which essentially declare that he has no problems getting into fights if necessary, unlike Jesus Christ. In the same way, “I Need You To” begins almost like a love song, before the beat drops and Mr Nwigwe’s voice deepens to demand the arrest of killers; the song seems to lure you in under false pretences.

Still, an exuberance permeates the collective’s output. From the movements of the dancers and Mr Nwigwe’s signature “ouu” heard on every track, to the visual aesthetics running through the outfits, video sets and instruments, every detail is considered and cohesive. The quarantine series was mint-green themed. Strikingly so. Every inch of the Nwigwes’ living room, where videos are filmed, is covered in the seafoam hue. Everyone on camera matches the walls in button-up shirts, sweats and tunics, with calf-high white socks punctuating the monochrome look. Mr Nwigwe shares that he’s the brains behind the branding: “I do have help executing the designs by way of my team, but I choose the colours and I design the clothes.”

Art and life are inextricable for the Nwigwes. Their music videos often enact domestic scenes such as Fat twisting Mr Nwigwe’s hair. “For me, I understand that we are partners in real life first,” he explains. “And I’m not talking to a co-worker, I’m talking to my wife.” Fat agrees, adding that, “We do life together. That’s basically what we do, we live our lives together. It just is what it is.”

The family theme goes beyond the couple, too. Mr Nwigwe frequently mentions anecdotes from his parents in his lyrics; they refer to their fans as “cousins”, and present in their visuals are their two daughters, Ivory, almost two, and 10-month-old Sage, along with Ms Grant’s two children, who often crawl in and out of frame.

They’ve been doing life together as a married couple since their wedding in 2017, after meeting at a church six years earlier. But they never decided to work together. Fat says, “Everything just evolved from us meeting. We did the back-and-forth cat-and-mouse game for a while, got together, and then he realised that he was supposed to be doing music. And I was already in for the long haul, so I just helped him.”

With all the disruption that the past year has wrought, any success carved out of the mire is pretty remarkable. But Mr Nwigwe is already thinking ahead to what the future holds. “I might do an R&B collaboration project,” he says. “I might do some acting.” But one thing, he says, is certain: “I’m gonna have some more babies. For sure, not might.”

Fat echoes him, “[We’ll] have some more babies.” After all, it is a family affair.