When he was young, Burna Boy would sit, watch the Grammy Awards and dream. He still carries fleeting memories of iconic past performances. He remembers being at home and staring into his box television screen and seeing famed artists of an era gone, crooning velvet vocals to crowded auditoriums, inspiration stirring.
For as long as he can remember, for as long as he has released songs, the Grammys have floated somewhere in his periphery, a milestone he was sure he would one day reach.
That day finally arrived in March this year at the 63rd iteration of the awards show. The world watched as he won Best Global Music Album. It being a year unlike any other, the awards were accepted over video link. When his name was called, the feed cut to a jubilant Burna Boy. The artist was sat in a pearl-white suit, diamond grills glistening in his mouth, twisted dreads softly falling by his earlobes, both hands on his head, reeling back and forth in his seat, the magnitude of the moment nibbling at his surface. âAfrica is in the house, man,â he said proudly, staring down into the screen. âAfrica, weâre in the house.â