For Kuda-Kwashé, music is more than entertainment—it’s a vehicle for connection, understanding, and meaningful conversation. Drawing from his experiences growing up in Zimbabwe, building a life in the UK, and working within the mental health sector, the artist has developed a distinctive creative vision that blends storytelling, cultural identity, and emotional insight. His latest single, Afua’s Kitchen, embodies that vision perfectly, using the universal language of food to explore themes of unity, belonging, and shared humanity.
Built on the belief that some of life’s most important conversations happen around a table, Afua’s Kitchen transforms everyday moments into a powerful metaphor for cultural exchange and human connection. The song reflects Kuda-Kwashé’s wider artistic philosophy—one that refuses to separate substance from accessibility, combining infectious rhythms with thoughtful storytelling and messages that resonate long after the music stops.
Influenced by artists as diverse as Burna Boy, Wizkid, Alicia Keys, and J. Cole, Kuda-Kwashé has forged his own genre-blending sound through what he calls RapFro Soul: a space where rap, soul, Afrobeats, R&B, and spoken-word traditions coexist freely. In this conversation, he discusses the inspiration behind Afua’s Kitchen, the importance of authenticity, the intersection between music and mental wellbeing, and his ambitious vision for Hybrid Heart Experience—a platform dedicated to bringing creativity, healing, and community together.
At its heart, this is a conversation about connection: how stories unite us, how music helps us feel seen, and why some of the most powerful movements begin with something as simple as sharing a meal.
“Afua’s Kitchen” is built around the idea of food bringing people together. Was there a specific personal experience that inspired the song’s concept?
Absolutely. Growing up in Zimbabwe and later building a life in the UK, I experienced firsthand how food has a way of breaking down barriers. Some of my most meaningful conversations happened around dinner tables, family gatherings, community events, and shared meals with people from completely different backgrounds. I realized that when people eat together, they often stop focusing on what separates them and start discovering what they have in common. Afua’s Kitchen was born from that observation. The kitchen became a metaphor for the world—a place where different ingredients, cultures, and stories can come together to create something beautiful.
The track celebrates cultural unity without losing its personal touch. How do you strike that balance as a songwriter?
I always start with something personal. If I can’t feel it, nobody else will. Once I find the personal truth in a song, I look for the universal lesson inside it. We all come from different places, but we share many of the same emotions—love, hope, belonging, loneliness, joy. Afua’s Kitchen is rooted in my own experiences, but the message belongs to everyone. That’s the balance: start with honesty and expand toward humanity.
You have cited artists ranging from Burna Boy and Wizkid to Alicia Keys and J. Cole as influences. Which elements of their artistry have shaped your own creative approach?
Burna Boy taught me the importance of cultural pride and creating music that feels globally relevant without losing its roots. Wizkid showed me the power of simplicity and groove. Alicia Keys inspires me through vulnerability and emotional honesty. J. Cole reminds me that storytelling and substance can coexist with commercial appeal. Then there are artists like Nelly, Justin Timberlake, Timbaland, and The Neptunes, who influenced my sense of melody, rhythm, and experimentation. I think RapFro Soul is really the result of all those influences meeting my own life experiences.
The song feels cinematic in both its production and storytelling. When writing, do you visualize scenes or narratives in your mind?
Very much so. I often see songs before I finish writing them. I imagine settings, people, conversations, emotions, and camera angles. With Afua’s Kitchen, I could see families sitting together, people from different nations sharing meals, children laughing, music playing, and cultures blending. The song almost unfolded like a movie in my head. That’s probably why many of my songs feel visual—they begin as scenes before they become lyrics.
What challenges and opportunities come with creating music that sits between multiple genres rather than fitting neatly into one category?
The challenge is that the industry often prefers simple labels. Playlists, algorithms, and marketing strategies tend to work best when artists fit into a specific box. But the opportunity is freedom. I don’t have to choose between rap, soul, Afrobeats, R&B, or spoken-word influences. I can create something that reflects who I am as a whole person. That’s what RapFro Soul represents to me—a space where genres collaborate instead of compete.
How important is storytelling to you compared to melody, rhythm, and production?
Storytelling is the foundation. Melody, rhythm, and production are incredibly important, but they serve the story. A great beat can grab attention, but a meaningful story stays with people long after the song ends. My goal is always to create music that people can enjoy immediately but continue discovering new layers in years later.
You often speak about authenticity. What does being an authentic artist mean to you in today’s music industry?
Authenticity means having the courage to be yourself even when trends suggest otherwise. It means creating from a place of truth rather than chasing whatever is popular at the moment. As artists, we all evolve, but authenticity means that evolution remains connected to who we genuinely are. For me, authenticity is being able to stand behind every song and say, “This reflects something real about my journey.”
As someone working in mental health, you’ve seen the power of human connection firsthand. How has that perspective influenced your understanding of music’s role in people’s lives?
Working in mental health has reinforced something I already believed: people need connection. Often, people aren’t looking for someone to fix them—they want to feel understood. Music can do that in a unique way. A song can tell someone, “You’re not alone.” I’ve seen how powerful validation can be, and I believe music has the ability to provide that on a global scale. That’s one reason I take songwriting so seriously.
Many artists create songs to entertain. Do you consciously set out to create songs that also heal, inspire, or encourage reflection?
Yes, although I never want the music to feel like a lecture. Entertainment opens the door, but meaning gives people a reason to stay. Whether it’s In Those Eyes, which supports survivors of unhealthy relationships, or Afua’s Kitchen, which promotes unity, I hope my music creates space for both enjoyment and reflection. If a listener dances today and discovers a deeper message tomorrow, that’s a beautiful outcome.
Receiving recognition from a global artist like Ne-Yo can be a defining moment. How has that experience impacted your confidence and outlook moving forward?
Having Ne-Yo involved with Afua’s Kitchen was incredibly affirming. Beyond the excitement itself, it reminded me that world-class artists recognize authenticity when they see it. It didn’t make me feel like I’d arrived—it made me feel like I should keep going. The experience reinforced my belief that staying true to my vision can open doors I never imagined.
Your catalogue includes songs that explore love, identity, vulnerability, and healing. Are there recurring themes you find yourself returning to as a writer?
Definitely. Human connection is probably the thread that runs through everything I create. Whether I’m writing about romantic love, personal growth, resilience, mental health, cultural identity, or community, I’m usually exploring how people connect with themselves and each other. I think that’s why many of my songs feel interconnected despite covering different subjects.
Can you tell us more about Hybrid Heart Experience and how it expands beyond the traditional idea of a music brand?
Hybrid Heart Experience is my vision for combining music, mental wellbeing, storytelling, and community impact. It’s based on the idea that creativity and healing can work together. Beyond music releases, the platform aims to offer therapeutic conversations, music-based support experiences, personal development resources, live events, and opportunities for meaningful connection. The goal is to build an ecosystem where art doesn’t just entertain—it contributes to people’s wellbeing.
What has been the most surprising response you’ve received from listeners about your music so far?
The most surprising feedback is often when people tell me they felt understood. Sometimes listeners connect with lyrics in ways I never anticipated. They’ll tell me a song arrived at exactly the right moment in their lives. Those moments remind me that music doesn’t belong solely to the artist once it’s released—it becomes part of other people’s stories too.
If RapFro Soul continues to grow as a movement, what do you hope it represents to audiences around the world?
I hope RapFro Soul becomes a symbol of connection without compromise. I want it to represent cultural pride, emotional intelligence, authenticity, and creative freedom. I want people to feel they don’t have to choose between strength and vulnerability, between local identity and global ambition, between entertainment and substance. RapFro Soul is about bringing those worlds together.
Five years from now, what would success look like for Kuda-Kwashé—not just as an artist, but as a storyteller, community builder, and visionary?
Five years from now, success would mean knowing that the music created real impact. Of course I’d love to see sold-out shows, global audiences, chart success, and industry recognition. But beyond that, I want to see communities formed through the music, lives positively influenced through Hybrid Heart Experience, and conversations sparked around healing, connection, and culture. If people can point to my work and say, “That helped me feel seen, inspired, or connected,” then I would consider that a meaningful definition of success.
