He started out making parody songs at school. Now, whenever something happens online, Twitter waits for the Papz skit. Our cover star and guest editor talks satire, Nigerian stand-up and knowing where the line is, and explains why he’d happily play Spider-Man’s web-shooter cleaner.
There’s a certain kind of British internet moment that only feels finished once Papz has made a skit about it. A politician says something daft, or a stranger tweets about a baby shower that turns out to be his own, and the replies fill up with the same request: where’s the Papz video? He trained his audience into that habit the old-fashioned way, writing every sketch himself and posting for years before any of it paid. For our fifth issue, Content Creators Shaping Culture, he’s on the cover and in the editor’s chair, picking the names he thinks deserve your attention next.
He’s also, by his own cheerful admission, the best in the country at what he does. We sat down with him at the studio to find out where that confidence comes from.
You make content, you act and now you write. What came first?
Content creation and music, both at the same time. At school I used to make parody music, YNW Melly parodies, that kind of thing. The writing is newer.
When did the writing start?
In 2021. I was in a meeting with my old management, and Michael Dapaah’s management came in and gave me some advice. He said, look at what Michael’s doing, he writes now, and you should too. So I went to uni and studied screenwriting, and I put the work in at home too, learning how scripts work. I’m still learning as I go.
People describe your work as satire: it makes you laugh, but there’s truth in it. Was that always the aim?
I’ve always wanted my content to mean something. It can still be funny, but I want people to think. I’ve done Sadiq Khan, I’ve done the housing crisis. I use it to shine a light on things society doesn’t talk about, either because people are scared to or because it never comes up in conversation. In that space I look up to Munya. Nobody does social commentary on politicians like him, so in that lane I give it to Munya.
How does being Nigerian feed into your comedy?
Growing up I watched Nigerian stand-ups like Basketmouth and AY, and I still watch their sets. I think Nigerian comedians are the funniest in the world. The delivery, the way they land a joke, it’s proper funny, and nobody gives them the accolades. That’s the comedy I leaned towards because it’s what I grew up on. So big up AY, big up Basketmouth, and the Nigerian skit makers too.
Where’s your biggest audience outside the UK?
America and Australia, mostly New York, LA and Sydney. I’m still shocked by it. When I was younger I used to make videos on Omegle, and I’d meet loads of Australians who’d say, “Oh my God, it’s that British guy from TikTok.” For my videos to reach the other side of the world, and for people there to know who I am, is a mad feeling. I went to America for the first time last year and got clocked twice. Two times is like a million times to me.
Do you think about fame?
The work comes first. Fame and money are a bonus. I only started making real money a couple of years ago. Before that it was free work, posting for the love of the game. I do it to make people happy.
This issue is called Content Creators Shaping Culture. Is that you?
That’s a real question. I see myself as a content creator shaping British culture, especially Black British culture. I’ve stapled myself into it. Every time something happens, people on Twitter are asking, “Where’s the Papz skit? Papz is definitely making a skit about this.” They come straight to me, like I’m the super entertainer.
Rappers get ranked in tiers. Where do you sit?
S-tier. In my age group, I’m the best in the UK. I haven’t met anyone who thinks like me yet. There’s a clip of Michael Jackson in front of the mirror before a performance, telling himself, “I’m the greatest, I’m the greatest.” I watched it every day for a while and did the same thing. That mindset hasn’t left me.
Who writes the skits?
All me. I can be talking to you right now and think, that could be a skit. Twitter is my best source because Twitter is free comedy. Someone in America tweets that the guy she’s talking to said he was going to a baby shower, and it turns out it’s his baby shower. That’s a skit. People hand you comedy for free now. All you’ve got to do is write it, make it better and give it back to the audience.
As guest editor, you picked the creators to watch. How did you choose?
They’re people I’ve watched, worked with or am a big fan of. One guy came up on my For You page recently, Muni Mercs, who does poetry about footballers. He’s new, he’s funny, and I see a bright future for him. Then there’s Gold, who I’ve known and watched for years, and Miss Sandy Baby. These are my most talented friends, and they have no ceiling. What links them is hard work and resilience, and they don’t care how they look or what people think. They’re authentically themselves, and hardly anyone is anymore.
How do you decide where the line is?
I make Christian skits sometimes, and I’m Christian myself, so some of them knock on the door of blasphemy. I send those to my Christian friends first: “Bruv, is this blasphemy? Let me know, I ain’t trying to go to hell.” I’ve made fewer of them lately because sometimes I take the piss. The recent one was “When Your Pastor Takes His Authority Too Far”: “Shame on you. You ain’t leaving this Bible study until next week. You ain’t seeing your mum.” People laughed, but in my head I was thinking I shouldn’t be doing this.
Before I got big I didn’t care. I’d punch up, punch down, whatever. Then Munya reached out and told me to delete some videos. He said brands audit your page before they work with you, and if you’ve punched down or said something really bad, they’ll walk away. I had one video that was very dark, and he said, “Delete that right now.” I did, and since then I watch what I post.
What’s next?
Getting my show commissioned, writing more projects and telling stories that haven’t been told yet. Music too. I’m taking it seriously this year, and I’m in the studio every other day. In five years I want to be closer to God, writing on TV shows, commissioning my own and working with the people I grew up watching. Most importantly, I want to be happy.
Films?
When I say TV I mean everything, so films too. Marvel would be a dream. I’m not even asking to be Spider-Man. Make me Spider-Man’s personal web-shooter cleaner, I don’t mind. Make me the light bulb. Just give me a role.
A message for readers?
Chase your dreams, and don’t let your African parents stop you. It’s your life, so do what makes you happy. If you’re not where you want to be yet, there’s light at the end of the tunnel. Keep pushing, stay prayed up, stay blessed.