MONROVIA — In a country where the average Liberian child is expected to quietly recite multiplication tables, mop the floor, and keep a respectful hush in the presence of elders, a pint-sized lyrical tornado named Heaven Sent has kicked tradition straight in the kolo-nut basket—with rhythm.
This young Liberian sensation has taken social media by storm, not with ABC songs or nursery rhymes, but with a sizzling viral track that’s got more bars than a Central Monrovia power outage update.
In his now-famous verse, Heaven Sent raps with all the innocence of a child and the audacity of a seasoned philosopher:
“Not all old people we must give ear to — Remember stupid people too can grow old.
Not every grey hair must hear your secret. Some of the grey hairs are wicked,
They see you shining and they are ready to rumble…”
And just like that, the Liberian internet broke into three factions: Team ‘Grey Hair Deserves Respect’, Team ‘He’s Just a Kid’, and Team ‘Drop the Album Already!’
But just when the buzz couldn’t get any louder, it did. A post went viral claiming young Heaven Sent had tragically passed away. Liberians wept. Candles were lit. Aunties wailed louder than a power cut during Champions League.
Until Heaven Sent posted a live video eating jollof rice and telling everyone to “relax small, yaah.”
Turns out, he was just asleep—probably dreaming up his next verse.
A Message With Bite
While his message might seem disrespectful to some, it’s not without wisdom. In a country still healing from generational scars, where young talent is often dismissed as “too small,” and suspicious and mysterious deaths are attributed to witchcraft caused by old people, Heaven Sent’s lyrics are a call for discernment—not disrespect.
Yes, respect your elders—but don’t assume age equals wisdom. As one listener put it, “Da boy na lie! Some of these old pa dem wicked sef. Soon as they see you small successful, they start to call you proud.”
Talent in the Trenches
Heaven Sent is not just a fluke. He represents a quiet but rising wave of Liberian youth bursting with talent—unrefined, untrained, but unshakably bold.
But here’s the problem:
They rap in back alleys, not studios.
They draw on cardboard boxes, not canvases.
They act in street corners, not stages.
And often, they are silenced by poverty long before they find their voice.
Time to Build the Future—One Heaven Sent at a Time
If Liberia is serious about nurturing the next generation of artists, here are a few suggestions (Heaven Sent-approved):
1. Build Talent Hubs in each county where young people can access music equipment, creative coaching, and safe spaces to express themselves.
2. Create a National Talent Registry—no, not the voter roll—where gifted kids are documented and tracked for mentorship, scholarships, and exposure.
3. Give Moral Support: Share their content, celebrate their wins, protect their spirits. Not every child wants a football—some want a microphone.
4. Form Youth Panels that influence art and cultural funding. Who better to decide what’s fresh than the ones who understand it?
5. Don’t Wait for International Validation. If we don’t clap for Heaven Sent today, we’ll be calling him “our own” after CNN discovers him tomorrow.
Final Word
Heaven Sent may still be small in size, but his voice is giant—and very much alive. And to the wicked grey hairs who feel triggered? Don’t worry. If you’re not part of the problem, you’re not part of the verse.
So let’s stop waiting for Liberia’s young talents to die before we celebrate them. Heaven Sent is here. Let’s send him—and all young stars—up, not out. And l hope energetic Cultural Ambassador Kekura Malawala Kamara is listening.
