By Etienne Mainimo Mengnjo
In the misty hills of Mbiame, a small village in Cameroon’s Northwest Region, Macson Nsoyuka was born with no outward sign of the fire he would later unleash.
His roots remained deep in Mbiame’s soil, but it was in the neighbouring village of Nseh—amid dusty streets, flickering kerosene lamps, and late-night cyphers where rhymes were traded like precious coins—that a shy teenager first seized a borrowed microphone, whispered the name “Dragon,” and let something fierce slip from his throat.
The village had no idea it was witnessing the birth of a voice that would soon echo far beyond the hills. For years, music simmered quietly inside him. Then came the visions—vivid, insistent—and the ache of growing up.
Those private storms finally pushed him through the door of a recording studio while he was still young. “My visions, the pain I carried growing up, and even what I’m going through now—all of it created an urgent need to make music,” Dragon says, his voice steady with conviction.
What emerges from the speakers is unmistakable: a molten blend of Afropop’s bright rhythms, Rap’s sharp lyricism, and the home-grown pulse of Mboko. He wields this mix deliberately, turning every beat into a plea for love, peace, and unity in a region that needs those words more than most.
He name-checks his influences with gratitude—Richard Kings, Tina Vernyuy, Mic Monster, and global heavyweights Future and Lil Durk—artists whose philosophies mirror his own hunger to say something that lasts.
Life, however, has not been gentle. Just as his career was gaining momentum in Kumbo, the ongoing crisis in the Northwest and Southwest Regions forced him to uproot everything and start over in a new place. The reset has been brutal, but Dragon refuses to let it silence him.
After nearly 12 years grinding in the industry—releasing singles, honing his craft—he is now deep into recording his debut album. Step inside the studio with him and you’ll feel the shift: tension melts, eyes light up.
“I see myself living my dream,” he says. “Life is finally becoming real.” He pauses, then adds with quiet certainty: “My soul is happy because God laid a message on me to deliver to His people. Every time I obey that call, I’m at peace.”
The album is coming—soon, he promises—and with it, the full arrival of the artist the villages of Mbiame and Nseh first met as a nervous boy with a borrowed mic.
Outside the booth, Macson Nsoyuka is just as resourceful. By day he’s a skilled shoemaker, stitching soles and dreams with equal care, proof that a man from the hills can build more than one kind of future with his own two hands.
From red earth to rhythm, from borrowed microphones to a voice the nation is starting to recognise—Dragon is no longer waiting in the shadows.
He has begun to roar.
