Ilkacase Qays and the new language of Somali love

Somali love songs are among the most radiant expressions of our culture — tributes that capture love and the reverence for women in ways rarely voiced elsewhere in our society. Yet, the women in these melodies often exist within a single frame: beautiful, graceful, obedient. I cherish these songs and the softness they invoke, but I’ve always wondered — where is the room for women to be complicated, confident, or gloriously loud?

Ilkacase Qays — the longest-standing Somali-speaking rapper — distinguishes himself not merely by romanticizing women, but by celebrating their complexity and agency. Through his music, he offers a more expansive and contemporary vision of Somali womanhood.

Though Ilkacase has given us countless waddani (nationalist) songs, one cannot overlook the distinctive way his work reimagines Somali women within modern Somali music scene. Even his name evokes the legendary tale of Layla and Qays, the Arab precursor to Romeo and Juliet, where love teeters on the edge of madness.

Qays burst on the Somali music scene in 2005 with “Maryaneey” — a fully Somali rap song he delivered in long white t-shirts and baseball caps, echoing the urban American fashion of the time. Yet despite the look, his lyrics and subject matter were quintessentially Somali. The chorus is an open confession of love — raw, poetic, and deeply local:

Nin jaceyl haya ayaan ahay, calaf wa halkiisee

Maryaneey, aniga way qaaday, qalbigiyo wadnaha way qaaday

Inaan nolosha la qaybsado dooni

Maryaneey huunooy hay dhaafin

I’m a man in love, for destiny has its way
Maryan, she has taken me
she has taken my heart and soul
I want to share my life with her
Maryan, my dear, please don’t leave me

He asserts that, although he raps in a modern cadence, he remains a Somali poet — one who has simply adopted rap as the vessel for his wordplay. In “Maryaneey,” his melodic phrasing and poetic rhythm create a sound that feels both vulnerable and inviting. He lays bare his emotions without restraint, expressing a raw and wholehearted longing that feels at once deeply personal and culturally resonant. This, at its core, defines Ilkacase’s artistry: his themes are firmly rooted in Somali cultural identity, yet his delivery possesses an unfiltered, evocative power that feels both refreshing and bold.

What makes Ilkacase stand out from other artists is his range. He can deliver a fierce diss track with the same conviction that he brings to his sweetest love songs

Throughout his twenty year long career, he draws upon that gritty “bad boy” image — his sound, swagger, and stage presence commanding attention. Most of his rap songs are commanding the listener to remember who he is — the king and pioneer of modern-day Somali rap.

With his stage presence he fully embodies every song he’s performing — jumping up and down, screaming into the mic passionately and truly losing himself in each beat. But what makes Ilkacase stand out from other artists is his range. He can deliver a fierce diss track with the same conviction that he brings to his sweetest love songs. No matter the tone, his performance is passionate, unfiltered, and deeply raw.

He also reflects his audience in real time. With over fifty songs on his YouTube channel responding to current Somali affairs, his music feels immediate, digestible, and always relevant. Whether he’s amplifying community issues or celebrating women, there’s always a context for an Ilkacase track. Between the beat and the explicit lyrics praising his subject matter — he has given us all anthems.

One standout is “Queen Huda,” a women’s empowerment anthem. The beat alone on this song will keep the listener hooked, but it’s this particular verse that lingers, a part that is frequently sampled and reimagined across social media:

Kaligeed naag weeye, kun ka roon dumar weeye

Kaska garashada karti lagu kabay weeye

Kalsoonida weey u dhalatay wana kaafiya

Kaligeed taliso wana lamataabtaan

Qurux waa kow, koonkan oo idil,

Kartina waa ruux kun u dhiganto

She stands alone as one, yet better than a thousand women 
A woman endowed with wisdom and wherewithal
Born with confidence, perfected in virtue
A sovereign of her own, untouchable in her reign

Beauty itself begins with her, the crown of the universe

And her strength is worth a thousand soul

After such a bold, unapologetic flex, we shift to a slower song — “Geenyadi Maalin Guur.” Here, tenderness takes center stage. The vulnerability he reveals is striking, especially in the way he articulates his admiration for the woman at the heart of the song. It stands in sharp contrast to the artist we know on stage — defiant, untamed, middle finger raised. The slower rhythm cradles his words, melding melody and emotion into a softer, more intimate listening experience:

Jacayl marna waa macaan, marna waa qadhaadh

Ninku soo maraa micnihiisa garan

Lowlaa anigu helay, midi aan rabay

Millionneer Raxmaay dhiigaygiyeey

Midan dhalasha iyo Abtir wadaagnay

Qofaan kugu matalo aadmi kumaan arag

Maankiyo qalbiga adiga mulkiyay, macaanbadan raxmaay adiga mulkiyay

Marwadeeydiyeey muhiimki naftaay

Muxubaan dartaa meermeerayaa

Anoo iil kujiro adaa ii maciinay

Noloshu waxey tahay macaankeed itusay

Raxmooy soo ma ogid kama maarmi karo

Hadda minute ku waayo aduunkaan nacaa

Love is sometimes sweet, and sometimes bitter
Only the one who’s lived it knows its meaning
By grace, I found the one my heart desire
Millionaire, Raxmaay, my blood
You share my roots, my lineage, my soul
I’ve never seen another who could compare to you
My mind and heart, you have conquered them both
Sweet Raxma, you own them entirely
My lady, the essence of my life
For your love I wander restlessly
Even in my grave, you’d still be my refuge
Life, you’ve shown me its sweetness
Oh Raxma, don’t you know, I can never be without you?
If I lose you for even a minute
I’d grow to hate this world

Nearly twenty years since “Maryaaneey” his artistic growth is evident. In this song, he sings not only of love, but of a devotion that runs deep, rooted in blood and bound to destiny — to Raxma, the woman who mirrors both his lineage and his longing. I’ve never witnessed him perform it live, yet the first time I heard it, I couldn’t let it go. Unlike his fleeting viral refrains, this track unfolds with a quiet intimacy — a confession more than a performance — revealing a vulnerability long eclipsed by the bravado that so often defines Ilkacase.

Where love songs once serenaded couples at weddings, they now amplify the bride herself — celebrating her beauty, and individuality.

This summer, he released “Yartu wa Gob” and “State of Abdi Kumade,” and evading the Ilkavon — a tiktok trend — effect was impossible. “State of Abdi Kumade” may have been intended as a subclan song, but the ladies have claimed it entirely. On TikTok, the track has become unavoidable. A clip of the hook, added with East — a well-known Somali TikToker based in the U.S. — screaming “kacaa, kacaa” (rise, rise) has turned into the ultimate hype anthem. Every woman, regardless of age, seems to have used it to soundtrack her own moment of confidence. The beat and Ilkacase’s vocals drive home a prideful, celebratory energy that now echoes through weddings across the diaspora. It’s the song of Summer 2025 — the soundtrack to self-assurance and style, pure flex energy in musical form.

The translation of these songs from the internet to real life has transformed the way Somali music is made, remade and experienced. Decades ago, songs were crafted as timeless musical compositions; now they’re designed for the moment — to trend, to be remixed, to go viral. Where love songs once serenaded couples at weddings, they now amplify the bride herself — celebrating her beauty, and individuality.

Two of Ilkacase’s tracks are permanent fixtures at weddings, his 2019 remix of “Ayaan Dhalad,” written for the namesake’s wedding, and “Lamataabtaan,” dedicated to his wife, Naima Jookar. Both are frequently remixed with the bride’s name, extending their relevance and giving each performance a personal touch. What’s most striking, though, is how he speaks about the women in these songs — with reverence, intimacy, and pride.

In “Ayaan Dhalad” he, poetically, sings:

Aragaa muuqa ii deeqay, asluubta dookhaa ku raacay

Asalka sinjiga i shidayo, aayaha inantaan la yaabay

Adduunka haweenka jooga, amaan kaligeed tilmaamay

Agjoog wehelkeed doonay, abaabul jacayl ah dareemay

Ayaan nin helay nasib leh, aqal u dhiga ayan leh

Aroos uu tuma aflaxaayo, awlaad uu dhasha amaan mudan

Ayaan Dhaladay abayo, Caqli badan oorideyda

Abaal baad mudanatahayee axdigii iloobi maayo

Her beauty captivated my eyes, her graceful manners drew my heart
Her noble lineage ignited my soul, in wonder I beheld this remarkable girl

Among all women in the world, she alone deserves the highest praise
I longed to be by her side, feeling the stirrings of true love

He who finds Ayaan is truly blessed, he who builds a home with her finds rest
A wedding full of joy, Children born of her will be worthy of praise to come

Ayaan, my dear, a woman of wisdom my chosen bride

You are deserving of deep gratitude, that sacred vow, I will never forget

The parts of this song that stand out to me are the compliments of her being a worthy choice as his bride and future mother of his children. In this highly global world, he roots the listener in Somali love, but one that heralds her characteristics and that he’s privileged to be the man she marries. He often emphasizes shared bloodline, or ethnicity with the women he addresses, as seen in “Geenyaadi Maalin Guur” and “Ayaan Dhalad.” This recurring theme reveals the deeply resonant aspect of his artistry — a poetic dedication to celebrating Somali identity, kinship, and cultural pride.

In a society where women are encouraged to be bashful and demure, Ilkacase’s music makes space for pride, confidence and agency

As an artist, he remains defiant, raw, and unapologetic, but his love songs remind us that being rooted in Somali tradition doesn’t mean being trapped by it. He pushes against convention while still honoring heritage, producing music that celebrates his people, his culture, and especially, Somali women.

What stands out to me about these songs is twofold; they read like a love letter to the person he’s singing for and they give women a way to unashamedly and confidently brag on themselves. In a society where women are encouraged to be bashful and demure, Ilkacase’s music makes space for pride, confidence and agency. It’s not just defiant, its revolutionizing how we depict Somali women in contemporary music scene.

I’ve seen so many young diaspora Somalis translating the lyrics to his songs to relay the verbal whiplash that he’s spitting, or appreciating the female praise, both are happening simultaneously and that puts his music in a league of its own. We haven’t seen a Somali artist this versatile in a long time, and frankly we haven’t been able to ignore the Ilkavon effect.

The cultural shift reflected through his music is undeniable. Somali music once relied on subtle metaphors to hide its passions; today, thanks to social media and a hyperconnected generation, boldness is celebrated. The new audience wants clarity, energy, and something to rally around — and Ilkacase delivers exactly that.

I remember his track “Gobtu Maxa Leydahay” being danced to in weddings in Sweden as young women threw their shalmads (head scurf) in the air once their subclan was shouted out. Now instead of claiming ownership in qabiil, women have anthems like “Lamataabtaan” where they can claim pride in themselves. In this song he says:

Taan u wacan hablaha tamashlaha qurxoon aan tilmaanmayaa lama taaban karo

Talo iyo waxgarad tacab iyo waxqabad tiigsashiyo aqoon toosniyo dadnimo, (Nimco) laga helaa

Waa lama taabtaan, looma taaliyaan.

The one who stands out among the girls with her beautiful presence

The one I describe is untouchable. Wisdom and intelligence, effort and action, ambition and knowledge, uprightness and dignity — All of that is found in her

She is untouchable, incomparable

Originally released for his wife, this is more than a tribute — it’s a statement of intent. He doesn’t just honor the changing ways we speak of Somali women — he lives them.

Ilkacase Qays may not be rewriting the Somali love song entirely, but he’s opened its door to a new dawn. In his world, women are not distant muses; they’re powerful, self-assured and gloriously loud. And maybe that’s the kind of love our culture needs to sing about.