Although Jackline Acheampong only recently started making music, she has long been a student of the craft. The 22-year-old Ghanain Afro-fusion artist, who records under the name Gyakie, was 8 when she began accompanying her father, the legendary highlife singer Nana Acheampong, to his studio. In August 2020, during her second year of college, she released her debut EP, Seed, a freewheeling project she wrote and recorded during lockdown. While its wide-ranging genre experimentation didn’t always coalesce, her talents alchemized on “Forever,” a sticky-sweet single whose simple yet vulnerable lyrics announced Gyakie as one of Ghana’s fast-rising Afrobeats talents.
My Diary, Gyakie’s second EP, is a glossier and more tightly woven improvement on its predecessor. Even though the six-song set feels like a direct thematic extension—most of her lyrics still concern love and desire—the production is stronger and her writing is significantly more self-possessed. If Seed attempted to encompass a multitude of sounds without landing on a specific identity, then these songs allow Gyakie to streamline her thought process—sometimes to a fault. As her lyrics dance between feelings of longing and fear, she occasionally finds herself in creative stasis.
The EP opens strong with the Altra Nova-produced “Audience,” a partly sultry, partly somber jazz number. Right away, you can hear the adventurous spirit from her past work, but the motives are now more concrete. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, my name is Gyakie, we’re about to have a good time,” she begins, reassuring herself and her listeners before igniting the party with the freestyle-esque riffs of “na, na, na, na” that make up the chorus. The Davido-assisted “Flames” and the clever, bittersweet Afropop track “Something” are also highlights that showcase her growth as an artist.
If Seed allowed Gyakie to exhibit a sense of freedom as an emerging act, My Diary is occasionally too careful in its approach, creating a sense of self-imposed restriction. While it’s refreshing to hear Gyakie move beyond the winning formula that made “Forever” a hit, she is still trying to find a sound that is uniquely hers. Closing song “Waka Waka,” a reggae fusion track, illustrates the ambiguity, beginning with high energy but struggling to maintain its flow. Beneath the tension in her lyrics—trusting in someone else and guarding her own heart—there is a sense that, had she allowed herself the chance to freefall a bit, she might have returned with a more daring project. At its best, My Diary feels like the precursor to a grander, more confident reinvention to come.
