She steps out of the haze, silhouetted by candlelight and class. Her soft, British-Nigerian accent floats in like a saxophone on a rainy evening. Her gaze is calm, knowing. She speaks softly — not because she’s weak, but because she doesn’t need to raise her voice.

Good evening. I’m Sade. I don’t say much… I let the music speak for me.

She sits gracefully, a glass of wine in hand, legs crossed, elegance in every breath.

Interviews are rare… conversations even more so.