The bar was Lagos, 1984. Smoke curled in the air, neon lights flickered weakly, and the jukebox croaked before surrendering to the rhythm that silenced the room—Osondi Owendi. The guitar came first, sly and unhurried. The horns followed, brassy and bold, before Osadebe’s voice cut through like velvet wrapped around steel. Traders paused mid-sentence,
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