When a single interview snowballs into global controversy, it is never just about the words spoken. It is about the history behind them, the politics beneath them, and the power of who gets to define themselves. The recent storm around Tyla’s identification as “coloured”, and Tiwa Savage’s attempt to apologise on her behalf, reveals precisely this. And in this moment, I stand with Tyla, because her voice reflects the complicated racial reality of South Africa, not a misunderstanding that needs smoothing over.
The drama began during Tyla’s appearance on The Breakfast Club, where she was asked to explain why she identifies as “coloured.” In the United States, the word is a racial slur tied to segregation. In South Africa, however, it is a distinct, though contested, identity. Tyla answered clearly: “In South Africa, I would be classified as a coloured woman. In other places, I would be classified as a black woman. I’m both coloured in South Africa and a black woman.” That statement, posted again on her social media, was not a stumble. It was a deliberate effort to explain the unique context South Africans live with.
But then Tiwa Savage, Nigeria’s Afrobeats superstar, stepped in. In the same interview, she said: “On behalf of her, we apologise. We did not mean it, forgive us.” What was likely meant as a gesture of protection triggered a different reaction: a backlash from South Africans who felt their identities were being spoken over and sanitised for foreign audiences. Social media lit up with people saying Tiwa had no right to apologise for Tyla, especially on a subject as sensitive and historically loaded as race in South Africa.
Why the anger? Because “coloured” is not just a label. It is a legacy of apartheid’s brutal classification system, which carved South Africans into racial categories as a means of control. The “Coloured” group was deliberately placed in an in-between position — excluded from whiteness, but also excluded from full inclusion in Black liberation narratives. This community developed its own cultures, languages, and politics, while also enduring marginalisation and systemic disadvantage. To call oneself “coloured” in South Africa is not to chase proximity to whiteness; it is to name a history and a lived community.
When Tiwa apologised on Tyla’s behalf, it felt like erasure. Tyla had already explained herself, directly and carefully. She had not asked for her words to be softened or excused. By stepping in, Tiwa unintentionally implied that Tyla’s truth was a mistake that needed correcting. But identity is not a misstep it is a claim. And claims cannot be apologised away by others, no matter how well-intentioned.
Critics outside South Africa often fall into the trap of forcing American or West African frameworks onto our reality. In the U.S., the binary of Black and White makes the word “coloured” deeply offensive. In Nigeria, the conversation is shaped by a different history of colonialism and independence. But here, in South Africa, the story is not so easily translated. To flatten our categories into someone else’s vocabulary is to silence the complexity we live with daily. Tyla’s statement, that she is both coloured at home and black abroad, acknowledges that identity shifts with context. That is not confusion; that is honesty.
This is why many South Africans sided with Tyla and rejected Tiwa’s apology. It was not about disrespecting Tiwa Savage or dismissing Afrobeats’ influence. It was about defending the right of a young South African artist to name herself without being corrected or spoken for. In a world where Blackness is constantly policed, diluted, or appropriated, the least we can do is respect when someone articulates their truth with clarity.
What this controversy teaches us is that identity is never one-size-fits-all. The global stage often demands simplicity, but South Africa’s racial history refuses neat categories. Tyla’s rise is proof that even within complexity, brilliance thrives. She is not less African for calling herself coloured in South Africa. She is not more successful because of it either. She is simply asserting who she is, and insisting that the world meet her on her own terms.
The lesson here is simple: don’t apologise for someone else’s identity. Listen. Respect. And let South Africans carry their own truths into the global conversation. Tyla has already spoken. The rest of us should hear her,
