Artist, mother and activist of women’s rights, Fattú Djakité not only sings: he raises his voice as an echo of resistance and a celebration of identity .. Born in Guinea-Bisáu, Djakité moved with his family AA mid-nineties, a few years before the war broke out in his native country. He grew up in the city of Mindelo, between echoes of music and history, but without erasing his link with his country of origin. Sing and composes in Portuguese, Creole of Cabo Verde and Creole of Guinea-Bisáu. “I feel privileged to sing in Guinean Creole, to keep my tongue alive, not to lose connection with my inheritance,” he explains.
In his last single, (“beautiful girl”, in Creole of Bisáu), raises self -care to the category of revolutionary act. Together with its launch, he proposed a challenge: 21 days for women to establish a routine dedicated to themselves. Where cases of child marriage still persist or, taking their own time is more than a pause: it is a declaration of independence. His fight is not limited to music. Its is a claim of African beauty that
In recent years, her art has led her to stages from all over the world, including the past, the European temple of the world music, where part of this interview was conducted, completed by telephone in March 2025.
Ask. How would you define your style? What are your influences?
Answer. I would say that my music is world musicbecause I don’t limit myself to genres when I compose. My purpose is simple: create for people, to connect. But, despite this freedom, it is impossible to give off my roots. The music of Guinea-Bisáu, the Caboverdianos rhythms and the culture that has formed me are a constant presence in what I do. My mother, a cook ex officio, filled the house with the vibrations of the Guinean parties: food, music, the Creole we were talking about.
P. How did the fact of having grown up as a refugee influence in his music?
R. I arrived green two years before the conflict. I did not live the war, but marked me. It was just a girl, but I understood suffering. I saw my mother cry, I listened to the news, I felt the weight of the word “refugee.” In childhood that made me blank of teasing. They called me “refugee” as if I had no right to speak, to exist. It took me to understand that a refugee is not someone inferior, but a survivor, someone fleeing the war because he wants to live. That’s why I included the song [cantada con el artista brasileño Emicida] In my album Bissau Beach. Not only speaks of my story, but about today’s reality. The world is still at war, and we cannot ignore it. We must speak, awaken consciences.
My hair, my skin, my presence does not need translation or permission. They are the living test of history and the African inheritance that I carry inside
P. I have seen their audience cry, especially women, during their song Beautiful Badjuda. Why do you think it’s so inside?
R. It is essential to understand that our well -being is a form of resistance, of revolution. Beautiful Flatty It is an invitation to reflect on the importance of connecting with the same, of caring for the body and mind, of listening to our emotions and healing. It is not just about taking a day for you, but about incorporating that space for reflection in your daily life. As women, we have the tendency to prioritize everything and all above us. This must change. And it is not selfish, it is taking care of us, being well first to be well with others.
Self -care is deeply linked to identity. Sometimes, we live so disconnected from our roots that we don’t know how to face the future. I never forget where I come. My story, my struggles, my joys and my pains have been the ones that have forged me as an artist.
P. Its aesthetics is a statement in itself. What does it mean for you?
R. Exactly that. A cry of affirmation. Because if I don’t say it, who will say it for me? In Cabo Verde, European aesthetics has dominated for too long. But this is not just a matter of fashion or passing trends; It is a silent battle on how we see each other and how we allow ourselves to exist in the world. My hair, my skin, my presence does not need translation or permission. They are the living test of history and the African inheritance that I carry inside. To say “I am African and I am beautiful” is an act of resistance, of self -love and claim. I don’t hope that nobody is worth it, because I know what I am worth.
P. In Cabo Verde’s music scene, there is a lot of male presence. But who are women who should be heard?
R. Beyond consolidated figures such as O, there is a new generation of artists who are leaving their mark. It is one of them, with a recent job that is pure beauty. , although he has already crossed borders, he is still surprising with his scenic force and his impact on international festivals.
In the, a genre that does not stop expanding, stand out, with their enveloping voice, or, which is gaining more and more recognition. Or, the latter originally from the island of Fogo, are two emerging talents with an impressive musical sensitivity. I leave many in the inkwell because Cabo Verde is full of creativity and talent, what we really need are more opportunities for these voices to shine.
P. Could he affirm that his profile as an artist is inseparable from his activism, his motherhood and his identity as a woman?
R. Absolutely. When I recorded my first album, I took my first child in my belly. Since then, my children are the root of my music, the reason why my voice not only sings, but also affirms, denounces, celebrates.
At home I try to convey love for Africa from the deepest. Music, food, tongue … everything is a bridge with its identity. Although they have never stepped on Guinea-Bisáu, they recognize their songs, they feel their call. They speak of Africa with love and respect, because they know that they come from there, that their history is powerful.
