Walk Away: Libianca's Quiet Mastery

By Wandji Wilfred · 10 January 2024 · 23 reader comments
Personal Growth & ReflectionCameroon lens: Local Heroes & Figurescelebratory

This piece celebrates Libianca's EP *In A Way* as a watershed moment for Cameroonian representation in global urban pop, while arguing that her true strength lies not in nationalist triumphalism but in intimate, unflinching songwriting about vulnerability, trauma, and human complexity.

She's been about making music for persons than for a people.Libianca's artistic focus versus national expectations
The piece

Not since Franko's "Coller La Petite" had a single from a Cameroonian artist made such wide ripples in the large pond that is the world, in the way Libianca's "People" has. For Cameroonians who had once felt dizzy with the lack of a notable representation as they teetered on the edge of the long dive into the bubbling waters of urban pop music from Africa, People was a medication counter-current to the lack of sobriety in its text, relieving them of that dizziness.

Libianca was, and is for them more than just an artist with a great song which took over the world. She is a porte-étendard of the dreams of many who feel that Cameroon hasn't been quite able to move its musical chess pieces across the wide sonic board of Africa's urban pop music. Salatiel's collaboration with Beyonce', as great as it was, didn't seem to be enough. Something greater was needed, especially to rub it in the faces of our neighbours to the west whom they've felt dwarved by.

And People was the salvatory climax to the itch that had been swimming in their loins. And they made known their little victory with screenshots showing stats from streaming platform. Alas! Cameroon was finally put on the map.

It didn't matter where Libianca honed her skill, nor what colour of passport she carries. She's said she is from Bamenda ( intrinsically a second victory in itself for Anglophone Cameroonians), and that was enough for everyone.

Through it all, Libianca has remained unfazed. Either she is completely oblivious to the expectations her countrymen have of her or she is the coolest cucumber there is, with only the focus on her artistic pathway to fret her heartstrings.

Because Libianca hasn't changed. And what change there is to judge her by in the first place, save from a cornucopia of musical covers on her social media, plus a few singles? But these were enough for any any A&R to see where she could be headed and what kind of music she would make. She's been about making music for persons than for a people. And her baby project, an EP of 6 songs is a canvas of personal expressions full of music for persons.

Titled "In A Way," this EP is a trip into the deep armpits of Libianca's vulnerabilities. There is a gossamer touch to how Libianca's feathery voice flutters from one track to the next in smooth, soft bursts, yet with words penetrating deep in intravenous drills.

Libianca CAN sing - a fact as clear as day. After all, you don't get to The Voice and have two judges turn for you if you have nothing to offer. But it is really in the songwriting that this project is put in it's own rack on the digital storefront of contemporary African urban pop sounds.

Every song breaks down a feeling, a state of being; sometimes redemptive, sometimes trapped, sometimes very aware, sometimes exculpatory, and other times liberated.

Libianca's penmanship brings all these alive in a clear, succinct manner, whilst using her voice as an emotional crutch to evoke every single shred of tingle it is meant to raise.

The title track, In A Way, is of the redemptive fabric. That of a healed disappointment from love, which has learned its lessons and can quickly forget for its own sake. Resting on light percussions running parallel to an unobtrusive bass guitar, Libianca's soft voice are heightened by an acoustic guitar with tinges of melancholy. It is the perfect musical libation for the songs theme which oscillates between the triumph of overcoming deception and the mental esculpation of not giving in into the dark forces it is capable of unleashing.

And it only helps that the music layered under this accentuates this perfectly with the more pensive portions of her lyrics having the instruments playing more stringently and the triumphant parts having all the instruments coming together - with the guitar's melancholy miraculously sounding soothing.

Angeldemon isn't no less a song of note. It's ominous theme of abuse and contrasts with the music and Libianca's delivery which translates a hopeful desperation. The writing, with its superb use of metaphors brings out the multiple dualities; angel and demon, light and darkness, night and day, life and death, a charming smile and a darkness in the eyes.

"Dissociation and Fenty is how I keep my sanity...I don't want to face the truth...(and so) I tell myself these lies." Piercing words that portray the many realities of persons trapped in such a cycle of violence.

W.O.M.S is no doubt the lightest song on the EP. A sort of love triangle situation between Libianca, (a stellar featuring from) Blaqbonez and Moliy. A song about mind games and commitment issues in relationships which is a fan favourite.

Jah and People, two previously released singles can be said to have dictated the emotional wavelength of the EP. Respectively liberated and dark in their themes, they both set the pace with their themes of alcoholism, depression and mental health, and finding peace in a higher power when one doesn't find peace and reciprocity in a hitherto lover.

Mistaken, the most hybrid song in the EP both on its composition and vocal delivery perhaps could have passed on its Oxlade feature specifically due to the part Libianca played in making it such a dual piece - by bringing a very refreshing RnB vibe to the undercutting Afrobeats composition. While Libianca steps in out furtively into RnB zone and back into an Afrobeats one, Chlöe Bailey's is more overt and present. Hers is purer and really gives the song a much-needed punch to its theme dealing with strife and uncertainty.

Walk Away is a body of that strips down layers of emotions, feelings and vulnerabilities. It is music with universal awareness cutting across our collective human experiences whether viewed from more monolithic macrocosmic lens or from more personal microcosmic ones.

Libianca takes us through a journey where these experiences whether they lean on a higher power, alcohol, self awareness, personal triumphs or uncertainty are laid bare and shows that as far deep-seated emotions go, we are more alike than apart.

Music for persons than for a people. And her compatriots are going to have to adjust to that fact because the future as uncertain as it is, shows that we will get more of that music for certain.

Wandji Wilfred

There is a gossamer touch to how Libianca's feathery voice flutters from one track to the next in smooth, soft bursts, yet with words penetrating deep in intravenous drills.Libianca's vocal and lyrical style on her EP
It didn't matter where Libianca honed her skill, nor what colour of passport she carries.Cameroonians claiming Libianca regardless of her background
Context

The post captures a moment of national pride around a Cameroonian artist achieving international recognition—a reckoning with long-felt cultural underrepresentation in African pop music on the global stage, set against regional competition and the weight of diaspora identity.

Why it matters

Then, it offered solace to a listening public hungry for proof of Cameroon's creative reach; now, it reads as a clear-eyed rebuttal to the notion that such pride must rest on chart metrics rather than artistic depth. The writer's insistence that Libianca's gift is her songcraft and emotional honesty—not her passport or origin—remains a bracing corrective to celebrity nationalism.

How the audience responded
The comment thread reflects overwhelmingly affirmational sentiment, with readers consistently praising the article's quality and the recognizable voice of its writer—likely a contributor known as 'WW'—rather than engaging substantively with Libianca's music or the piece's themes. A light interpretive thread emerged around the distinction between WW and another writer called Tino, with readers playfully debating their respective merits, though this functioned more as fan banter than critical analysis. The sparse, emoji-laden responses—mostly single-line approvals—suggest the engagement was social and celebratory rather than intellectually generative; readers came to affirm their affection for the publication and its voice, not to contest or deeply examine the article's arguments about the artist. What this reaction reveals is an audience primarily invested in the PoiseSocial brand and its recognizable contributors as personalities, more so than in substantive discussion of the musical or cultural claims being made.
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