- Words Millie Dunn-Christensen
As he unveils his expansive sixth album ‘New Road & Guava Trees’, M.anifest reflects on blending heritage with innovation, collaborating across continents, and why resilience and reinvention sit at the heart of his storytelling.
At a time when many artists are chasing trends, M.anifest is digging deeper. With New Road & Guava Trees, his sixth studio album, the Ghanaian rap icon delivers a career-defining work rooted in introspection, resilience, and cultural storytelling. Shaped across Accra, Seattle, and Los Angeles, the album captures M.anifest at his most expansive yet personal, weaving together hip-hop, Afrobeats, highlife, and jazz into a lush sonic tapestry. Featuring collaborations with the likes of Flea from Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Bien of Sauti Sol, A-Reece, and King Promise, New Road & Guava Trees balances big ideas – systemic failures, spiritual reflection, the pursuit of love – with the quiet details of a life lived between worlds. It’s a project that not only honours his Ghanaian roots but redefines the possibilities of African rap on a global scale.
At its core, New Road & Guava Trees is about the climb – the hard-won journey toward growth and self-definition. Across 14 tracks, M.anifest confronts personal memories, societal contradictions, and existential questions with an honesty and finesse that few can match. Whether it’s the genre-bending soul of ‘Puff Puff,’ the resilient introspection of ‘Highlands,’ or the tender commitment of ‘Hang My Boots,’ M.anifest crafts music that feels both timeless and urgent. As he opens up about the emotional and creative process behind the album, the influence of his childhood in Madina, and his vision for the future of African hip-hop, we caught up with M.anifest to dig into a project that isn’t just a new chapter—it’s a bold new blueprint.


The album title ‘New Road & Guava Trees’ is both personal and symbolic. What made now the right time to revisit that part of your childhood and turn it into an album?
There is a prevalent belief system where I’m from that teaches us the merits of looking back to the past to move forward into the future. Sankofa, they call it. My past neither leaves me nor dominates me. Anytime I need to make a leap personally and professionally, the past finds me and informs me. My intention with this album was to make a giant leap, so it’s only right that my childhood found me at a point during the process.
Across the album, you explore everything from love and resilience to systemic failures and spiritual reflection. How did you strike the balance between personal storytelling and broader social commentary?
I spend a lot of time by myself so introspection and self-reflection comes rather naturally to me. There is no version of me talking about what I observe in society without speaking about my own mistakes, triumphs, vulnerabilities, and life encounters. I bob and weave through the personal and the societal with relative ease cause I regularly concern myself with both.
You’ve collaborated with artists from across Africa and beyond: Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Bien from Sauti Sol, A-Reece and King Promise. How did these diverse features shape the sound and spirit of the album?
My collaborators brought much needed color and perspective to the album. The features are diverse because the music is as well. My good fortune is being able to commune with a myriad of inspiring musicians globally. As I traversed Accra, Seattle, Los Angeles and New York, a lot of these collaborations happened organically.


On ‘Puff Puff’ you blend highlife, jazz, and hip-hop with soulful instrumentation. How do you approach genre fusion while still keeping your Ghanaian identity at the forefront?
I credit that to an unlikely couple: my family upbringing and my love for hip-hop. There are many formidable people in my family who, no matter how significant they have been for other lands and in many disciplines, have never masked nor diluted the foundations they were raised on. Not their accent, not their customs, nor their pan-African preoccupations.
Hip-hop also taught me there is value in being unapologetic about where you’re from and bringing that into the music. It is what made Atliens, The Chronic, Illmatic, and Pae Mu Ka great. Excellence and innovation that could be easily traced to a place. So I suppose you could say I’m carrying on the tradition.
Tracks like ‘Highlands’ and ‘Second Hand’ dive into existential themes—resilience, legacy, and cycles. Were these reflections influenced by personal experiences or the world around you?
I always begin from a personal lens. I’m often triggered by my own experiences or observations that are uniquely mine. Mine not in the sense of possession, but how my own personal interactions with the world and my quiet ruminations form my thoughts and emotions. A stone is not lifeless because everyone says it is, it is because I mistakenly kicked one very hard, I screamed, and it sat there still staring silently at me with no eyes for that matter.
The album was made across three continents—Accra, Seattle, and LA. How did each city and its energy contribute to the soundscape or creative process?
Recording in different cities allowed me to find physical freedom in different forms while not being trapped by the over-familiarity of my usual work environment. I recorded ‘HIGHLANDS’ for instance, in New York City at a 37th-floor apartment with large windows that overlooked the skyscrapers on one side and the water on the other side. It couldn’t have been a more fitting environment to inspire the hook vocals.


Working with producers like Budo, GuiltyBeatz, and MikeMillzOn’Em, how did you create a sonic environment that still left space for vulnerability and experimentation?
Budo was my co-captain through the process, and that did a lot for me in terms of having someone else also be constantly looking at things from an aerial view and creating a fertile environment to experiment in. I spent a lot of recording time as well with MikeMillzOn’Em who I’m grateful for as well for being very supportive of my process and starting some of the wildest ideas on the album with me.
‘Hang My Boots’ featuring King Promise feels like a turning point emotionally. What were you trying to communicate through that track’s mix of commitment and closure?
New Road & Guava Trees subtly has an in search of newness thread somewhere in it. ‘HANG MY BOOTS’ feels like a point of resolve. Discovering what works amidst the struggle and chaos of it is. It’s at that point where I’m finally married to what I’m seeking. So it’s fitting to ‘HANG MY BOOTS’ at that point.
Being the grandson of Professor J.H. Nketia, how do you carry forward your family’s musical and cultural legacy while forging your own path as an innovator?
It’s a unique honour to be related to such a giant. I haven’t fully figured out how to marry the pushing forward of the legacy bit with the inspiration I take from him, and his work in my practice. I suppose that in itself is part of the legacy. But I hope to spend some more time in the future doing some very specific and intentional projects that really raise the ubiquity and utility of his incredible life’s work.
You’ve always pushed boundaries within African hip-hop. With New Road & Guava Trees, how do you hope to challenge or expand perceptions of what African rap can be on a global stage?
Hip-hop is vast! Hip-hop from a modern African context can be more than one thing. It can capture African music and hip-hop culture together in an innovative matrimony that defies trends while still feeling and sounding familiar. African music in these times is not a monolith. ‘New Road & Guava Trees’ is a testament to what a beauty it is to explore the diversity of rich culture and sound both come with and how explosive it is to put them together seamlessly.