Every artist has an origin story. For Txmmyily, it began not under spotlights, but beneath the hum of a barber’s clippers; on a small TV, Wizkid moved with the kind of ease that could bend a room’s energy. It wasn’t just a performance; it was a blueprint. “Something about that energy made me believe I could be that one day,” he says. From that moment, the dream grew quietly, waiting for its time to blaze.

Music was always in the background of his life, DStv Channel 325, which is the home of Trace Naija, spilling melodies into Txmmyily’s home, his siblings harmonising without effort. “It wasn’t something I was forced into; it was just always there. And slowly, I found myself in it,” he says. The soundtrack of his childhood became the foundation of his artistry. 

For Txmmyily, the real shift came from seeing people who looked like him, with the same hunger, make it. “That lit a fire in me,” he says. “It made me realise that if I stayed true and consistent, this could be more than just a dream.” That conviction carried him to one of his proudest milestones, hitting one million plays. “I paused and felt it,” he remembers. “That moment told me I wasn’t crazy for believing in myself.”

Describing his sound, he grins: “Sexy. Fun. Eccentric. Something to make you feel alive.” His lyrics, often tinged with grit and ambition, “life too large, can’t handle that space” or “married to the hustle, I have no shame”, echo his reality. It's chasing something bigger than himself, even when the weight is heavy.

What does he want people to feel when they press play? “ Freedom. Joy. Release,” he says. “I want them to know it’s okay to feel good again, to dance, to smile, even if life’s been heavy.” His songs aren’t an escape; they’re an invitation back into the light.

When creative blocks hit, Txmmyily doesn’t force it. “I give it space. I walk away, live a little. Inspiration finds you when you’re living with your eyes open.” It’s the same philosophy he carried into his Culture Documentary shoot, where his quiet confidence did all the talking. “The kind that doesn’t have to shout, but you still feel it,” he says.

Looking ahead, Txmmyily’s vision is as much about self-mastery as it is about music. “I want to grow into the best version of myself mentally, spiritually, and creatively,” he says. “If they see me rising, maybe they’ll believe they can too.”

From a boy in a barber’s shop to an artist with a million streams, Txmmyily is proof that sometimes the loudest dreams are born in the quietest rooms.