What if you gave three hours to your fans?

A few weeks ago, in a meeting with a group of colleagues, I shared my experience from a recent Burna Boy concert.

I wouldn’t have considered myself a Burna Boy or Afrobeats fan. For one, I confused Burna Boy with Stormzy, and two, other than the choruses from “Ye” and “Essence,” I knew the words to zero Afrobeats songs.

I’ve been to my fair share of concerts. I’ve seen a plethora of artists that many consider the G.O.A.T. of their genres.

But this might’ve been the greatest concert I’ve ever attended.

Maybe it was the atmosphere. It felt like I was in Africa.

Maybe it was the pride I felt watching an African artist representing his heritage so powerfully, delivering song after song, hit after hit.

Maybe it was how much they incorporated African culture into the set: the music and musicians, the backup singers and dancers, and the educational elements.

Maybe it was my four trips to Africa in the last seven months.

Maybe it was a culmination of them all.

Whatever it was, it was, and it was for three hours.

Burna Boy gave everything he had for three hours.

An insane performance from an incredible performer.

His showmanship and stage presence were among the best I’ve ever seen.

I shared these sentiments with my colleagues, which led to one colleague asking the group:

What if we gave three hours to our fans?

What would it look like?

What if we gave three hours to the people who love and support us?

All out.

For three hours.

Everything we have to the people who have subscribed and enrolled on the journey with us.

Three hours for the people who have raised their hands and said, “Yes, I am a fan, show me.”

The people who want to see us, who want to hear from us.

What would we give them? How would we show up for them?

Those who are looking to us.

What if you gave three hours to your fans?