In Ghana’s music industry, success is often measured by numbers — streams, airplay, sold-out shows, TikTok trends, and chart-topping hits. But for multiple award-winning song writer and music producer Kuami Eugene, there seems to be another metrics in the industry which keeps his works hidden behind closed doors: “What truly makes a great songwriter?”
According to the Rockstar, Telecel Ghana Music Awards may not be giving his pen the respect it deserves. During an interview on TV3, a show dubbed “The Afternoon Show”, Kuami Eugene did not hold back his disappointment. Beneath the humor in his voice sat years of frustration from an artiste who believes his songwriting brilliance has continually been overlooked by Ghana’s biggest music awards scheme, “People enjoy the songs, but they don’t give me the award for it.”
This statement alone opens a larger conversation within Ghana’s entertainment industry: Are hitmakers truly respected as songwriters, or are they simply celebrated as entertainers?
For years, Kuami Eugene has dominated Ghana’s music conversations with infectious melodies and commercially successful records. From love songs to inspirational anthems, his catalogue has consistently shaped mainstream Ghanaian sound. Yet despite the impact of songs like Nyame Yie, Victory, and Watch Me, the songwriter behind the records says recognition from TGMA has remained painfully absent.
What makes his argument even more compelling is the uncomfortable industry truth he hinted at: award schemes sometimes separate “commercial success” from “artistic depth,” almost as though popularity reduces the seriousness of songwriting craftsmanship. According to the “Angela” hitmaker, songs that become massive hits are often ignored in songwriting categories because they are viewed as “too mainstream.” In his view, quieter or less commercially visible songs appear to receive more critical appreciation from award boards-this raises an eyebrow.
Should songwriting awards only honour poetic complexity and reflective lyricism? Or should they also recognise the genius required to create songs that connect with millions of ordinary listeners?
Because writing a hit is not accidental-Crafting a song that crosses generations, enters churches, parties, weddings, taxis, campuses, and TikTok culture requires emotional intelligence, structure, rhythm, timing, relatability, and unforgettable hooks. The ability to make an entire country sing your lyrics word for word is a songwriting skill on its own.
That is where Kuami Eugene’s frustration becomes understandable. The Ghanaian music industry has historically celebrated vocal ability, stagecraft, and popularity, but conversations around songwriting are often selective. Many fans dance to songs without ever questioning who wrote them, how they were constructed, or the emotional labor behind them.
“Yet songwriting remains the backbone of music itself. Without the writer, there is no anthem, Without the pen, there is no hit, Without storytelling, there is no connection.” Kuami Eugene’s comments therefore go beyond personal disappointment. They expose a broader tension between critical recognition and public impact in Ghanaian music culture.
Interestingly, his criticism also subtly challenges the transparency of award systems. When he stated that the public would likely have voted differently if given the opportunity, he touched on a recurring concern among music fans: Who truly decides what excellence looks like? Is it the streets? The fans? The critics?
Or industry boards behind closed doors?
While TGMA continues to remain one of Ghana’s most respected entertainment institutions, moments like this remind audiences that award schemes will always face scrutiny when public opinion sharply differs from official selections. Still, beyond the frustration, Kuami Eugene’s confidence remains unshaken. And perhaps that confidence comes from understanding something deeper: awards may validate talent, but they do not create impact. The people already did that.
Long after trophies gather dust on shelves, songs remain alive in memories, heartbreaks, celebrations, worship sessions, and everyday Ghanaian life.
Maybe that is the real award. And maybe, just maybe, Ghana’s music industry must begin redefining what songwriting excellence truly means in an era where hit songs shape culture faster than ever before.

