Victims of Madnes 2.0 Early Impressions by Otieno Arudo

After nearly two months of cryptic tweets, late-night Instagram Lives, and snippets shared in dingy studio corners, Wakadinali’s Victims of Madness 2.0 has finally dropped — and it lands like a concrete slap on Nairobi’s underground rap scene. The Rong Rende collective, known for transforming street slang into anthems and drill cadences into cultural phenomena, teased this project as a return to their roots while simultaneously promising sonic reinvention. Fans have been dissecting every previewed bar and guest feature, debating whether the group would double down on their hard-edged drill sound or pivot toward something more introspective. Now that it’s here, Victims of Madness 2.0 reveals a bold, trap-heavy evolution that both excites and frustrates — a project that demands to be unpacked track by track, bar by bar, and punchline by punchline.

Production

The production on Victims of Madness 2.0 is a deliberate, strategic pivot that feels like a coded message to day-one fans. By leaning heavily into trap, Wakadinali are calling back to an earlier era — the Ndani Ya Cockpit days — when the group first crafted their identity on sparse, bass-driven beats before drill fever gripped the city. Interestingly, during that foundational trap phase, Sewersydaa was not yet a core figure; he joined later and became synonymous with drill, even bagging the UnKut Hiphop Awards’ Drill Artist of the Year title.

Yet on this album, Sewersydaa doesn’t just survive the trap pivot — he thrives. His verses cut through Ares 66’s moody, atmospheric beats with surgical precision, proving that his skill set extends far beyond aggressive drill flows. The production, handled primarily by Ares 66 with contributions from HR the Messenger, embraces layered melodies, eerie organs, and floating flutes that give the project a haunting, introspective quality. Tracks like Chizi and No Money No Jobembody this duality: menacing yet reflective, lush yet raw.

By moving away from the increasingly overplayed drill sound, Wakadinali showcase a willingness to evolve, and the decision to reintroduce trap feels like both a tribute to their roots and a challenge to their own versatility. Sewersydaa’s seamless adaptation underlines just how much he has grown as an artist, solidifying his reputation not just as a drill maestro but as a fully rounded rapper capable of thriving in any sonic terrain.

Thematic Concerns

The album’s thematic intentions are laid bare right from its second track, Chizi. The chorus, performed by Kitu Sewer, repeats “chizi amerogwa upya / chizi amerogwa tena,” a bold thesis statement signaling the group’s ambition to revive the spirit of their 2020 landmark album, Victims of Madness. The original project was celebrated for its raw, authentic storytelling and sharp social commentary, capturing the pulse of Nairobi’s streets with an urgency that felt both personal and universal.

However, this sequel’s attempt to recapture that magic feels underwhelming. Rather than offering a deeper, more mature exploration of urban struggles, Victims of Madness 2.0 relies heavily on tired tropes. The lyrical content circles the same themes of casual criminality, fame-fueled hedonism, and an endless parade of women — ideas that, while part of the group’s signature bravado, don’t push their narrative forward or reveal any new angles on their worldview.

The album’s failure to engage with Kenya’s recent sociopolitical upheavals, particularly the youth-led protests of June 2024 and June 2025, is striking. Scar’s throwaway line “mayouth walisha ungana” is the lone, limp reference to these massive movements, a weak echo of their earlier, politically charged hit Kuna Siku Youth Wataungana. While it’s not the critic’s place to prescribe what an artist must address, it is surprising — and disappointing — to see a group that once embraced political consciousness sidestep such critical moments in the country’s history.

Moreover, the album’s length works against it. Around the three-quarter mark, the momentum fizzles, revealing thematic fatigue. Tracks like Anataka tu Nimpende descend into crude vulgarity without any subversive or artistic purpose, while heartbreak-themed songs such as Long Distance and Tulikosana veer dangerously close to outright misogyny. The rappers’ personas — cocky, unbothered hustlers navigating fame and betrayal — offer a snapshot of their character, but fail to evolve or deepen across the project.

Performance & Delivery

As is tradition among Wakadinali fans — or “river” discussions, as they’re affectionately called — debates are raging about who among the trio came out on top in Victims of Madness 2.0. Domani Munga steps into the spotlight with hooks and verses delivered in his signature off-beat, mumble-rap style. Notably, this mumble approach feels even more pronounced on this project, polarizing fans who either praise its hypnotic, unbothered vibe or criticize it as a sign of lyrical complacency.

Meanwhile, Sewersydaa has emerged as the unofficial show-stealer for a large section of listeners. His verses are peppered with some of the album’s most cutting punchlines, including a much-discussed subliminal diss aimed at Nyashinski that has set X ablaze. Yet his consistent, almost monochromatic cadence — unwavering across most tracks — might feel flat to those who crave dynamic shifts in delivery.Scar, the perennial star, delivers exactly what fans have come to expect: comedic, sharp, and unpredictable bars that punctuate the album with bursts of energy. His dynamic flows are especially striking, but in a twist, his performances on slower, heartbreak-themed tracks like Tulikosana expose a rare vulnerability in the form of unexpectedly lazy rhymes. Even so, when Scar shines, Sewersydaa often keeps pace, ensuring that no single voice completely dominates the project.

Domani Munga’s unveiling of his new alter ego, “Yujiro,” is another headline moment. Across No Money No Job, Vile Nawasha, and Hizi Stance, Domani references himself as “Yujiro,” a nod to the fearsome character from the anime series Baki. Kenyan hip-hop critic Saint Bervonski suggests the full name might be “Yujiro wa Mapake,” though Domani has yet to clarify its meaning. While Domani is no stranger to adopting new nicknames, this new persona hints at potential solo ambitions — a narrative thread fans will undoubtedly watch closely.

Cultural Significance

Victims of Madness 2.0 lands during a lull in Kenya’s hip-hop album calendar, arriving after major drops by Kahu$h, 4MrFrankWhite, and Khaligraph Jones. It injects a jolt of raw energy into a fan base hungry for bold, cohesive projects. Like its 2020 predecessor, this sequel includes previously released singles — Tamashani, Maproso, Hizi Stance, Za Kimotho, and Denge Dingo 2 (a remix  of an original that featured breakout stars 4MrFrankWhite and Toxic Lyrikali) — weaving familiarity into the listening experience while amplifying its underground credibility.

Beyond the big-name collaborations with Katapilla (Tamashani) and Suzanna Owiyo (Maproso), the mixtape sees Wakadinali doubling down on their Eastlands-rooted, anti-commercial rap ethos. Kitu Sewer’s intro and interlude skits — along with his central chorus on Chizi — serve as both a cultural anchor and a sly troll of mainstream expectations. This project proudly embodies the gritty, uncompromising spirit of Nairobi’s underground, a tradition Wakadinali have carried like a battle flag. By leaning back into trap while paying homage to their street narrative roots, Wakadinali reaffirm their identity as architects of a uniquely Kenyan hip-hop soundscape. Even if Victims of Madness 2.0 doesn’t hit the thematic heights of its predecessor, it remains a critical cultural document — a snapshot of a group still figuring out how to evolve without losing the rawness that put them on the map.

Written by Otieno Arudo