The Voice of Bantu-Cosmic Music: Kem’Yah’s Final Trilogy Chapter Hits Deep
- Jennifer Gurton

- 3 hours ago
- 5 min read

Kem’Yah doesn’t just make music, he builds cosmologies. The Congolese-Canadian artist has spent the past several years crafting one of the most spiritually grounded, interdisciplinary, and culturally intentional bodies of work in modern Afro-fusion. His sound, a blend of Bantu-cosmic philosophy, hip-hop, R&B, trap, and ancestral rhythm, isn’t designed for passive listening. It’s meant to be absorbed, interpreted, and experienced on a cellular level.
Rooted in Kalunga cosmology and the ancestral teachings of the Bantu-Kongo, Kem’Yah approaches music as both ritual and revelation. His work lives at the intersection of memory, reincarnation, divine identity, and liberation, the kind of art that invites listeners to confront where they come from, who they are, and what their spirit is evolving toward. With a trilogy that spans music, short films, and a graphic novel, Kem’Yah has created a universe rather than a catalog, each release expanding the narrative and deepening the metaphysical journey.
2025 marked the completion of this monumental trilogy with Truth. If Kongo Nkisi was the invocation and Bantu Liberty was the awakening, then Truth is the rite of passage. It’s the final breath, the last transformation, the moment where ancestral knowledge meets modern urgency. Across seven tracks, the album channels the fire of Bantu-Kongo memory, the pulse of diasporic spirit, and the unshakable pursuit of freedom. Every song operates like a ceremony, weaving family, community, intention, and spiritual clarity into a soundscape that feels both ancient and futuristic.
This isn’t music built for charts or trends, it’s built for resonance. It’s built for listeners who crave meaning, for those who recognize the power of art to heal, confront, and liberate. Truth stands as one of Kem’Yah’s most resolute offerings: raw in message, sharp in lyricism, and deeply connected to the metaphysical world he channels through his craft.
Beyond the studio, 2025 saw Kem’Yah perform twice in Africa, including Accra’s iconic Chale Wote Festival, where he represented Congolese-diaspora futurism on a global stage. Standing on African soil added a visceral weight to the trilogy, completing a creative cycle in a way that felt spiritually aligned.
Now, heading into 2026, Kem’Yah’s focus is clear: touring, connecting, expanding the universe he’s built, and carrying the trilogy’s energy into a new chapter. His advice for fellow artists mirrors the transparency of Truth itself: be open, be vulnerable, be real, because authenticity amplifies impact.

Truth completes a trilogy rooted in Bantu-Kongo cosmology. When you entered this final chapter, what spiritual or emotional state were you in, and what did you feel needed to be said that hadn’t been said in Kongo Nkisi or Bantu Liberty?
When Eye stepped into Truth, Eye felt like Eye had reached the deepest chamber of Myself. Kongo Nkisi was the awakening, calling the spirits, remembering who Eye am. Bantu Liberty was the battle — breaking chains, reclaiming what was stripped away. But Truth… that was the mirror. Eye entered this chapter humbled, sharpened, and spiritually heavy, because Eye could hear My late Mother saying, “Now speak with no mask.” What needed to be said was the part of the journey that’s not glamorous, the spiritual exhaustion, the self-accountability, the tests, the ego deaths… and the clarity that comes after. Truth is not just about power. It’s about responsibility. It’s about becoming the center and not just a vessel.
Your music fuses ancestral philosophy with modern Afro-fusion, hip-hop, trap, and soul. How do you balance cultural preservation with cultural evolution when you create new sonic landscapes?
For me, there’s no conflict between preservation and evolution; they feed each other. Bantu-Kongo cosmology isn’t a museum piece; it’s alive. Rhythm is memory, and memory moves right? So when Eye blends Kikongo/Lingala chants with trap drums or spiritual proverbs with Afrofusion melodies, I’m not fusing “old” with “new.” I’m letting the ancestral code upgrade itself. Eye think of it like, My culture is the root and My sound is the branch. If the root is strong, the branch can grow in any direction and still remain true.
Each track on Truth feels like a ceremony. What rituals, practices, or grounding habits helped you maintain that spiritual intention throughout the recording process?
The session for Truth started as most of my sessions do: stillness first. My Wife lights a sage, cleanses the environment, we say a prayer, hold a smoke, and then begin creating. Eye avoided low vibrational environments and wrote a lot in nature as well, brought a kind of quiet that sharpened My intuition.
You performed twice in Africa in 2025, including the iconic Chale Wote Festival in Accra. How did being on the continent, within ancestral proximity, shift your understanding of your artistry or the trilogy as a whole?
Afrika gave Truth its final breath; it made the journey real.
You describe the album as channeling “Bantu-Kongo memory and modern Black liberation.” What does liberation mean to you personally, and how does that definition show up in your lyricism?
Liberation to Me is the ability to live as who you are before the world named you. It’s the freedom to raise Our children with their language, their ancestors, their symbols, their royalty intact. It shows up in My lyrics as honesty, sometimes beautiful, sometimes raw. I’m not trying to be perfect; I’m just trying to be free. And if My words can wake even one person out of a spiritual sleep, that’s liberation work.
Your trilogy blends music, short films, and a graphic novel — a multidisciplinary approach many artists don’t attempt. What inspired you to build a whole universe rather than just drop singles?
Because Our stories deserve galaxies, not playlists. Eye grew up wanting to see divine Black families, cosmic Black heroes, Bantu mythology in the mainstream, and it wasn’t there. So Eye had to build it Myself. The trilogy became more than music; it became a portal. The films, the graphic novel, the visuals, they’re not extras. They’re extensions of the same spirit. I’m giving people a world they can enter, not just a song they can hear.
Moving into 2026 with touring on the horizon, what aspects of Truth are you most excited to translate into a live setting, spiritually, visually, or sonically?
The live show is where Truth becomes physical. I’m excited to bring the ritual energy, the chants, the drums, the ancestral invocations. I’m excited for the visuals, the cosmic Bantu symbols, the divine-family imagery, the Afrofuturist aesthetic. And sonically, Eye want the crowd to feel the bass in their chest, the spirits in the melodies, the presence in the silence between notes. 2026 is about embodiment. Taking everything Eye channelled in the studio and letting audiences experience it with Me, not as fans, but as participants in the ceremony.

