TY Bello has never been easy to define by just one thing. For more than two decades, she has moved between music and photography with a rare ability to make both feel deeply personal. Behind the camera, she has photographed presidents, cultural figures and some of the most recognisable faces of our time, while also using her lens to find extraordinary stories in ordinary people. In music, faith has remained a constant thread, expressed through songs that are intimate, reflective and unmistakably hers.
Her latest project may be one of her most ambitious yet. Two years in the making, I Speak Lion, I Speak Lamb is a gospel project spanning two albums, with 20 songs on each; 40 songs in total. Beyond the sheer volume of music, it offers an interesting window into where Ty is creatively today and what she has to say after more than two decades of making art in different forms.
In this conversation with Konye Chelsea Nwabogor, TY Bello talks about the making and meaning of I Speak Lion, I Speak Lamb; how her sound has evolved; the relationship between music and photography; creating in the age of AI; and what continues to excite and challenge her at this point in her life and career.
You have spent the last two years working on I Speak Lion, I Speak Lamb, which eventually became two albums with 20 songs each. Why did this project become such an expansive body of work, and what connects those 40 songs?
Yes, two years is a long time to do a body of work. But it occurred to me that as I head toward turning 50, I’ll have been doing music professionally for 30 years. I was seeking to create a body of work that ran through my musical history, my journey with God, and the different sides to my music. It was hard to pin the journey down to one type of sound.
So I was looking for a way to tie down the journey with sounds that connect. That takes a lot of time. It also meant that I couldn’t do it in fewer songs. I had to find a way. It was almost like I was writing a book, and I needed more words to write it.
I wanted to create a coherent body of work that told my journey as a musician. And so I found out that, in the same way that I have two lives, being a musician and a
photographer, my musical journey has two very different types of sounds. I wanted the listener to be able to experience both.
The title I Speak Lion, I Speak Lamb immediately suggests two contrasting ideas: strength and surrender, power and gentleness. What does the title mean to you, and what does it tell us about the music?
You’re right about strength and surrender. I feel like, in being human and walking with God, worship music is that place where I’m able, when I need it, to find the strength that I need to conquer the things I need to conquer. But it’s also the place where I come and allow myself to be broken.
Music is how I spiritually find both types of expression. Before I even decided on the title, I found that there was a tension in finding music that spoke about both. It is in the sound that I’m able to face myself, allow myself to be vulnerable, and discuss the things that really matter to me. But it is through the sound that I also gather the strength to face the world. It’s where I find the courage to slay my giants.
This is very clearly a gospel project. At this stage of your life, what does making gospel music mean to you, and has your understanding of what you want to communicate through your music changed over the years?
I think I’ve been lucky enough to find a way to make music that’s truly authentic without pressure coming from anywhere else. Making music that is faith-based is not a strategy. It’s my reality. That is where the music comes from.
Every song that I’ve ever sung came out of a conversation with God. I find that many other people are also having those same conversations. Many people connect with the music on a very deep level. There’s something that makes you feel fulfilled. The things that make
you vulnerable actually give strength to other people. I feel like I’ve been blessed with the most fulfilling music career anyone can ask for.
The conversations that I have in the sacred place connect with other people because we all have similar struggles and questions that we sometimes ask God. To find those things in music is something that brings us all together. Worship is also a place where we can all express our heartfelt gratitude.
After two years and 40 songs, there must have been moments when the project surprised even you. Was there a particular song or moment during the process when you realised the album was becoming something bigger than you initially planned?
Music eventually will surprise you, but you have to be patient for that to happen. The music wasn’t stitching together for a very long time, but I knew not to give up on it. I knew I needed to listen and go deeper into my archive, enjoying the music that I felt God had gifted me with. It was work in itself, but I was very consistent. The pay off comes when you are able to connect the dots and it all starts making sense spiritually and sonically.
A major factor that made this particular project special was the producers I was privileged to work with. For the most part, I was working with people that were way younger than me. And to find 20-year-olds and 25-year-olds digging in and making music that is way beyond their years, while bringing the innovation of youth to a sound, brought all of us very major surprises.
I was open enough to allow the sound to be experimental. And my goodness, we were all surprised.
It’s easy to make a slow song that you can connect to spiritually, but it takes more intention to make a high energy and vibrant sound do exactly the same thing. I am glad that we were able to get there with every single song- fast or slow.
You have been making music for more than two decades. When you listen to these new albums, what do you hear in TY Bello today that perhaps wasn’t present in your earlier work?
I find that I am less afraid to make myself vulnerable. I am less afraid to share what my thoughts really are. My focus over the years has shifted more from trying to make perfect music to an eagerness to share truths that I have found, and to find frequencies of sound that break down these truths in a way that people can fully take in and have spiritual “aha ” moments.
I love that I have learned to work, collaborate with others deeper than I ever have before. It’s been a journey. I feel like that’s the biggest lesson that I’ve learned.
It’s beautiful to also know that the TY who made music in university decades ago is still very much alive. I’m glad that my inner child is still here, having fun and reminding me why I started.
Nigerian music has changed enormously since you began your career, and gospel music itself is reaching much wider audiences. Where do you see your music sitting within this new landscape, and are there artists from this generation you would particularly like to collaborate with?
Every day, I pinch myself that I’m still making music at all. That would have been enough in itself, but to constantly be surrounded by some of the smartest, most brilliant minds in music, decade after decade, year after year, can only be the hand of God. It has made the process very enjoyable and also very stretching. I have grown a lot.
Collaborating constantly with younger musicians has been God’s gift to me. My music has grown, but it definitely hasn’t aged at all. I feel younger now than I did when I started in my teens.
It’s incredible to know that my music has had an impact on the Nigerian musical space over the last 20 years. Somehow, God has made a place for me and has given me a very unique audience.
One of the most amazing things is when strangers walk up to me and tell me what the music has done for them, how it gave them the courage to do things they were afraid to do, or how it carried them through a bad time. It encourages me and reminds me that making music itself is actually service. It’s ministry. It’s not just a quest for relevance. It’s an opportunity to serve.
I feel like, as long as I stay true to myself and to the sounds that I’m discovering, and allow myself to collaborate without fear across generations, both older and younger, I can continue to grow. On this album, for instance, I have a collaboration with Chris Delvan, but I also have collaborations with Greatman Takit, Sinmidele, and Ellie Scotte.
I believe age is a privilege for all of us, both being young and being old. It’s beautiful to tap into the experience of an older musician, but also the openness and fearlessness of the young. I’m glad to know that somehow, I’ve benefited from both throughout my entire career.
My strength has always been in my collaborations. They’ve made my music very powerful and very colourful.
There was a period when many people probably thought of TY Bello first as a photographer and then as a musician. Did you ever feel photography had overshadowed the music, or were you completely comfortable allowing one part of your creativity to take the lead?
One of the prayers I say all the time is for the wisdom to understand what part of my life should take the lead in every season. Some seasons, I know to drop everything and just focus on marriage and motherhood, in other seasons, my relationship with God. My dual expression as an artist is exactly the same. When it’s time for music, then I give the music what it requires.
Having the life and the freedom to move between both careers is such a beautiful escape.
For me, music is something that I would love to do for the rest of my life. But I believe that one of the reasons I can still do it with as much passion as I do is photography. It’s an alternative escape, and it helps me take long enough breaks to refresh and fall in love again. This is true for album making because I actually get to create music every single week, with my musical director, George Alao and the beautiful community we’ve grown with in the last ten years.
Music has a way of making you feel like you have to find identity within it. I realised that my identity cannot be gotten from what I create, but from my intimacy with God and faith in Him.
You have photographed everyone from presidents and major public figures to everyday people whose stories might otherwise have gone unnoticed. After all these years, what still makes you curious about a person before you photograph them?
What makes me curious about every human being is the uniqueness of their story. Everyone has a story.
And photography is my gift to stay deeply connected to someone. I feel like by the time I’m done photographing someone, I get to know them really well. And I fall in love with the person that they are.
I see the little nuances that they take for granted, and I make it my goal to find ways to bring that out. It’s almost addictive because it’s like reading a very, very interesting book, week after week, and being introduced to new characters that God wants me to see.
Photography keeps me really human and keeps me really in touch with what makes all of us different.
Has spending so much of your life observing people through a camera changed the way you make music? Do you find that the photographer in you influences the way you write, tell stories or even imagine sound?
Absolutely. Being a visual artist makes a different type of musician out of me. I tend to see sound the way I see light. I see sound and composition the way light falls on an image. And I feel like composition is the same.
Photography makes me very aware and strengthens my ability to make something beautiful out of something that already exists and is normal.
I feel like when I take this skill to sound, I am able to play with possibilities. And I’m not afraid to experiment and see what would happen if I just tried something out that I never tried before.
I’m constantly doing this in my work. Constantly pushing in my photography. Constantly pushing for what’s possible, either on the subject or with the lighting.
With music, I’m constantly trying to see if I can put ideas that are not connected together, just out of curiosity. Art makes us curious human beings. And it’s wonderful to be able to use the same type of thinking for both sides of my work.
Technology, social media and now AI have dramatically changed both photography and music. In a time when almost anyone can create and manipulate an image or a piece of music, what do you believe still separates meaningful creative work from everything else?
The human spirit.
Technology will always be a tool. No matter how dramatic or revolutionary it is, it will never take away from the experience of the soul.
I believe that one must never be afraid to explore the tools that are available to us. But we owe it to ourselves to maintain authentic, real experiences. I can’t replace the wisdom I glean from God in music with an app. It will never be the same because it’s personalised and authentic in a way that I cannot describe.
Having these tools will always be a blessing. The radio never stopped us from singing. It’s like the transition from black-and-white to colour film. It’s a bigger experience, and the possibilities are greater. A shift in colour just adds another dimension to how an image is experienced. But this doesn’t diminish the importance of the contrast in a black-and-white image.
In the same way, technology does not take away from our joy, our pain, our sadness, or our conquests. None of those things will change. Creating music that connects with those things will always be beautiful, whether or not you choose to use the tools of the day.
You have moved between music, photography, creative direction and storytelling without ever seeming particularly interested in staying in one box. Was that something you consciously chose, or have you simply always followed whatever creatively interested you at the time?
Once, an older person was concerned about my choice to be an artist and made it clear that it wouldn’t work. It was one of the biggest gifts that I ever got. It made me realise that being an artist was a choice and I had to make it work. Freedom and the ability to do what you desire comes at a cost and so there is always a desire for wisdom. It’s the number one thing that I pray for- the wisdom to juggle it all and to understand timing.
I may have more than one thing on my plate, but it’s important not to have it on my plate all the time. I need to understand every season so that I am not overwhelmed and I give everything God has given me a chance to thrive.
You seem to be at a point in your career where there is very little left to prove. What excites you now, and has your definition of success or even a good life changed as you have grown older?
I’m glad that you used the words “Nothing left to prove.” The moment you stop trying to prove, especially to other people, is when you really start living.
I’m constantly looking to experience what is possible. Chasing after the flickers, images and the what-ifs that God places before me. And allowing myself to spontaneously try.
And it’s wonderful because the results have surprised me greatly. This has kept my life very interesting. Season after season, I’m able to engage in different creative relationships and find new expression in allowing myself to not just lean on what I know.
With I Speak Lion, I Speak Lamb introducing this new chapter, where is TY Bello right now, not just as an artist or photographer, but as a woman, and what are you looking forward to next?
As a woman, one of the most important things to me is seeing the impact my creative endeavour has on my children and my marriage. I love that it’s been a creative process for all of us, as I’ve found a way to get them involved and excited in the creative process. For instance, my children actually wrote the chorus of one of the songs and were very much contributing to the production process. I love it when I can bring them into what I do somehow.
I stopped crafting goals simply out of desires about fifteen years ago. I realised that you will always find your goal when you get to the end of your current God-given instruction.
I’ve always felt like I don’t need to know what to do next. I just need to know how to do what is placed in front of me.
I Speak Lion, I Speak Lamb was placed in front of me two years ago. I assumed that it was an instruction that would take me three months. When I saw that it would take me as long as two years, I had the choice to speed things up and only get a fragment of what it was that I was to create, or slow everything down and give the music what it demanded.
I find out that once I give what is in front of me everything that it demands, then there’s always a future, because every time I have done that, it always opens the door to the next phase.
It’s just such a delight to finally be completing an idea that has taken so long to form, and I am open to every door that it presents to me.
