In a stunning revelation that has sent shockwaves through Nigeria’s entertainment industry, Afro-Juju icon Sir Shina Peters has disclosed the extraordinary lengths his management team went to rehabilitate his public image following his acrimonious departure from Prince Adekunle’s band decades ago.
Speaking candidly on The Honest Bunch Podcast, the 67-year-old “Ace” hitmaker pulled back the curtain on what he described as a meticulously choreographed campaign that involved him masquerading as a mentally unstable person in some of Lagos’s busiest public spaces.
The veteran musician’s exit from Prince Adekunle’s band in the mid-1980s proved to be a watershed moment that nearly derailed his burgeoning career. Peters faced a fierce public backlash, with fans and industry stakeholders accusing him of abandoning his mentor and father figure for financial gain.
“People protested against me when I left Prince Adekunle’s band because they believed I left my father figure for money,” Peters recalled during the podcast appearance, his voice reflecting the weight of that turbulent period.
Faced with mounting public hostility that threatened to destroy his solo career before it began, Peters’ record label executives and allied media strategists devised an unorthodox solution that would be considered controversial by today’s standards.
According to Peters, the plan involved deliberately making him appear mentally unstable to shift public perception from anger to sympathy. “The owner of my record label and some media heads came up with an idea,” he explained. “They asked me to braid my hair for three days without loosening it, and then I wore some torn-up clothes.”
The elaborate ruse continued with Peters being taken to Oyingbo Market, one of Lagos’s bustling commercial centers, where he was filmed purchasing ewedu (jute leaves) while dressed in tattered clothing and with a disheveled appearance. “I didn’t even know what they were up to,” Peters admitted, suggesting he was largely unaware of the full extent of the staged performance.
The orchestrated campaign escalated when Peters’ handlers transported him to Badagry, a coastal town in Lagos State, where the deception reached its apex at a Julius Berger construction site—the German construction giant known for handling major Nigerian infrastructure projects.
“They told me to act like a madman and eat in public,” Peters disclosed. “All of that was done to change people’s narratives and earn empathy from fans.”
The coordinated effort, filmed and presumably disseminated through media channels available at the time, successfully transformed the narrative surrounding the controversial musician from one of betrayal to one of sympathy.
Peters confirmed that the carefully planned drama achieved its intended purpose. “The carefully planned drama ultimately helped me win back public sympathy and rebuild my image as a solo artist,” he stated.
The strategy, however manipulative by modern public relations standards, appears to have worked. Sir Shina Peters went on to become one of Nigeria’s most celebrated musicians, with his 1989 album “Ace” becoming a massive commercial success and establishing him as a household name. The album’s fusion of juju, Afrobeat, and funk created the Afro-Juju genre that would define his legacy.
Peters’ revelation raises important questions about the ethics of image management in the entertainment industry and the lengths to which artists and their handlers will go to manipulate public perception. The admission also highlights the power of carefully constructed narratives in shaping celebrity personas—a practice that has intensified even further in the social media age.
While the stunt may have saved Peters’ career, it involved deceiving the public and potentially exploiting stigmas surrounding mental health issues that would likely generate significant controversy if attempted today.
Despite these revelations, Sir Shina Peters remains a revered figure in Nigerian music, with a career spanning over four decades. His honesty about this chapter, however uncomfortable, offers a rare glimpse into the often-murky world of celebrity image-making in Nigeria’s golden age of juju and Afrobeat music.
The veteran performer’s willingness to speak openly about this episode demonstrates either remarkable candor or a confidence that his established legacy can withstand such admissions—or perhaps both.
WHAT YOU SHOULD KNOW
Sir Shina Peters has revealed that his career comeback after leaving Prince Adekunle’s band was built on an elaborate PR deception. When public backlash threatened to destroy his solo career, his handlers staged him as mentally unstable—dressing him in torn clothes, braiding his hair for days, and filming him acting erratically in Lagos markets and construction sites.
The manufactured spectacle successfully shifted public perception from anger to sympathy, salvaging his reputation and enabling him to become the Afro-Juju legend he is today.
