Directed by Ryan Coogler and nominated for a record-breaking 16 Oscars, Sinners follows Sammy, the son of a preacher, as he experiences a vampire invasion of his life as a successful modern American musician, guided by his transcendent voice and dobro guitar.
The film begins with a voiceover mentioning “griots.” Griots are centuries-old West African storytellers who convey oral history through the medium of poetry and song. In Tennessee, rumbling in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, modern griots are emerging.
Born in war-torn Liberia and raised in the United States, singer-songwriter Mon Lovia, real name Janjay Law, seeks to channel the spirit of a mythic storyteller.
“This is why this movie was so powerful. You see the magic in this boy singing in the voices of his ancestors,” he told CNN. “They gave him this energy and gift to help his people along the way.
“It’s interesting because griots specifically come from West Africa, which is where I’m from. Maybe it’s my role now to tell those stories, whether it’s American history or my own history.”
Rowe’s story, which takes his stage name from Liberia’s capital, has some overlap with the story of Sammy, the main character in Sinners, although it features a ukulele instead of a guitar and no bloodthirsty monsters afraid of garlic.
Born during the first of Liberia’s two civil wars that claimed more than 200,000 lives between 1989 and 2003, Lowe was adopted by American Christian missionaries at the age of seven around the turn of the millennium.
After moving with his family to various states from Florida to Montana, it wasn’t until he settled in the mountainous city of Chattanooga, where he now lives, that he picked up the instrument that now seems like an extension of his arm.
In fact, and to his team’s great curiosity, Lowe listened to little music other than church hymns as a child. That eventually changed, filling his eardrums with the folk-influenced sounds of Mumford & Sons, Bon Iver, Adrianne Lenker, and more, but even though he wasn’t particularly religious himself, vestiges of that spirituality are intertwined in his “Afro-Appalachian” music.
“This struggle to understand the larger forces at play in the human experience and the search for identity and belonging is so important,” Lowe said.
“I think spirituality can help guide you along the path of finding your place and purpose in life.”
In the words of his most streamed song, the road to finding that purpose was crooked.
Lowe never hesitated to reconcile the struggles that have shaped her, such as her near-death experience with child soldiers in Liberia (“A Day on the Soccer Field”), her depression (“Cleopatra”), her grief (“The Damned Army”), or the life away from her biological family that “torn” her sense of self (“Whose Face Am I?”).
“I didn’t think I could claim my Liberian heritage and culture…It took a while,” Lowe said. Lowe hasn’t returned to her hometown since traveling with her father when she was around 11 years old.
“In the music, there is also a sense of the struggle to claim lost identities, and the hope that they can be reclaimed.”
While Appalachian folk music is commonly associated with white artists such as the Carter Family, the “Mother of Folk” Jean Ritchie, and Dolly Parton, African Americans have made significant contributions to the sound of southern Appalachia and are “often ignored” in local histories of the genre, according to the National Park Service, which writes about the Great Smoky Mountains.
As early as the 16th century, when West Africans arrived as slaves across the North Atlantic, they used gourds (hard-shelled fruit) as musical instruments, paving the way for the emergence of the banjo, which eventually became a staple of Appalachian folklore.
By showing off her vulnerability, Mon Robia has endeared herself to an ever-expanding online fanbase, with the number of TikTok followers approaching 1 million, many of whom are Liberian.
His most talked-about post, which has been viewed more than 4.8 million times, has viewers hooked to “a song that feels like an adult lullaby.” It hints at the ukulele’s understated power to lull the listener into a trance, like the griots of old.
Lowe wants the state to become a sanctuary where people can feel safe no matter what their troubles are.
“It gives people a place where they don’t feel the noise. It’s a safe space where all your emotions are not clouded by the noise, no matter what the times or what’s going on in the world,” he explains.
“It’s them, their thoughts, a safe space for them to feel them and be seen in them as well. That’s probably what I mean by Lullaby.”
What’s happening in the world is of paramount importance to Lowe, who uses his platform to discuss global issues such as the recent protests in Iran.
In his 2025 single “Heavy Foot” (some call it a demo anthem), he sings, “Love me now, hold me down, and the government remains heavy-footed, trying to hold us all down.”
“People tag it. Actually, it’s just a song about the truth. I think it becomes a protest when the truth goes against something you don’t want people to know,” he says.
“What’s effective about that song is the feeling of togetherness… it pulls everyone together.”
Unity is a top consideration for Lowe moving forward, and he hopes to return to Liberia in 2027 to perform a free “reconciliation” concert, repaying the love he felt from fans there and writing a new chapter in his story.
“That’s the biggest source for me right now…I derive a lot of deep nourishment from that acceptance,” he said.
“I could never have imagined that I would be able to go back to my people as someone they could rely on. It’s a phrase you sometimes hear in stories and books: going home.”
“It’s a smile I want to keep forever.”
