Candlelights, camera lights: 2 celebs, one night

Ghana is a country where we revere the dead almost as passionately as we celebrate the living. And when it comes to iconic figures like the late great Daddy Lumba, our respect knows no bounds. 

So when news broke of his passing, hearts across the nation bowed in sorrow, and plans were swiftly drawn for the appropriate rites, including a candlelight night to honour his memory.

But just as Ghanaians were dusting off their black T-shirts and pulling up cherished Lumba playlists, a major disapproval, akin to fireworks — not the celebratory kind, popped up.

Actor-comedian Lil Win, known for his rib-cracking antics and unmatched ability to stir laughter from stone, had chosen that very same night to premiere his much-anticipated film, Ibrahim Traore, one that I learnt came with popcorn, red carpets, and enough energy to rival a VGMA afterparty.

It is reported the actor-producer spent around $500,000 to complete the film. Yes! You read right; half a million dollars.

Lil Win’s disappoitment

Lil Win, in his ever-dramatic fashion, took to social media to register his disappointment in the organisers of the candlelight night.

On Facebook on Monday, as reported by Graphiconline, he described the decision by the organisers as unfair and inconsiderate, especially given the widespread knowledge of his  movie’s premiere date.

He claimed the scheduling clash was an affront to the “hard work and sleepless nights” that went into his film.

After all, how could anyone possibly be expected to mourn and laugh at the same time?

But beyond the viral jabs and laughing emojis lies a deeper cultural truth: in Ghana, the dead are celebrated with solemnity, splendour, and sometimes more budget than a presidential campaign.

Especially when it is someone of Daddy Lumba’s stature — a man whose music didn’t just entertain, but shaped generations of sound, style and scandal.

To some, the clash of dates is unfortunate.

To others, it’s simply part of the chaos of living in a place where every weekend is either a festival or a funeral.

Not entirely wrong

Now, let’s be fair. Lil Win might not be entirely wrong to feel a little overlooked.

But in a land where even funerals have billboards, where weekend traffic jams often involve hearses and highlife music, and where “one-week” celebrations sometimes last longer than elections, it is no surprise that the dead occasionally double-book with the living.

It must be said, though, that in Ghanaian culture, mourning the dead is a deeply sacred affair.

From the elaborate funerals in Kumasi to the all-white thanksgiving services in Accra, the rituals are rich, symbolic, and often louder than a dancehall concert.

For someone like Daddy Lumba — a man whose music soundtracked heartbreaks and weddings — the public honour is more than deserved.

His candlelight night is less a clash with Lil Win’s premiere than a national pause button to say: “Thank you, legend.”

Opportunity

But here’s where Lil Win could do what Lil Win does best — turn a moment into a marketing masterstroke.

Rather than lament the date clash, why not ride the wave? Imagine this: “Out of respect for the legendary Daddy Lumba, I’m postponing the premiere — but doubling the drama, doubling the laughs, and making it a tribute show too!” That is an angle even Kumawood’s best screenwriters couldn’t script better.

And let’s be honest — if Lil Win announces a new premiere date with a bit of Lumba’s classic tracks woven into the soundtrack, he might just pack the cinema with both film fans and mourning fans looking for relief from the tears.

So instead of seeing the candlelight as competition, why not treat it as free PR? In Ghana, we mourn with style and celebrate with flair.

Lil Win could be the first to do both — respectfully, hilariously and strategically.

Comedy gold

Let’s face fact — only in Ghana could this happen, and only someone like Lil Win could turn it into comedy gold.

Because, at the end of the day, Lumba sang about life’s joys and sorrows.

What better way to honour him than to allow his candlelight to shine. Two stars.

One date. A respectful postponement.

And a golden opportunity to blend legacy with laughter — and then, when the smoke clears, let Lil Win’s spotlight blaze in return?

A cleverly revised campaign could go like this: "Postponed out of respect.

But when we return — we return with fire!"

Imagine a revised premiere where Lumba’s music is played before the lights dim, with Lil Win walking the carpet in black and red, surrounded by fans holding candles and popcorn.

So yes, “obi abawuo tuatua obi aso” — to the one grieving, the pain is real; to the rest, it may sound like noise.

But in this case, maybe it’s not noise. Maybe it’s the perfect background beat for a better premiere.

The writer is the Night Editor of the Daily Graphic
E-mail: samuel.bio@graphic.com.gh