The Artist’s Way: Chika, Rapper

In this special feature, T photographed and interviewed 34 artists from various disciplines about 24 hours in their creative lives.

Article by Marley Marius

ChikaJane Chika Oranika, aka Chika, in a Balmain coat, Nike top and Khiry earrings. Photographed in her Los Angeles home studio on Jan 13, 2022. Photography by Clifford Prince King.

I get the most work done at night. I like when it’s light out and the world’s up, but when it’s quiet or when everybody’s asleep, I can go without being uninterrupted. The years that my peers were in college, making friends and forming bonds, I was working toward a dream.

In lockdown, when everyone experienced what it was like to basically do everything by yourself, from the internet, at home — I’ve been doing that since I was a kid. My EPs “Industry Games” (2020) and “Once Upon a Time” (2021) were the culmination of all my dreams coming true. When I put “Industry Games” out, my team and I were popping bottles and celebrating. Three days later, the world shut down. So I’ve gotten to experience success but also feel as though I’ve lost it.

I always say that since I chose my actual name as my artist name, there’s a very fine line between my work life and my personal life. I took a step back last year to redefine myself as a person outside of my work, and to make sure I understood that not being happy in one facet of my life doesn’t have to mean the end of everything. That break was really about reconnecting with myself and celebrating how far I’d come. But while my job is my art, art isn’t work. Being separated from my job doesn’t mean that I stop being a creative person. I still have the urge to get up in the middle of the night, go into my home studio and record a melody that I heard and want to expand upon. I never stopped doing that. If I ever did, I wouldn’t be here.

I’ve had no opportunity to tour, so I’m really excited to finally get to see the people who support me in person. I’ve created a relationship with my fans where I think they understand me. Even on bad days, they reach out and let me know that they’re there for me and care about me. That’s the overall tone of social media for me right now: it’s a support system when I don’t feel like I have one. Sometimes, you get on the internet and someone will be like, “Actually, you suck,” but I try to dwell on the good.

It’s been a long time — of breaks, of dealing with mental health, of all kinds of different things. At a certain point, I’ll be able to actually say thank you in a tangible way, by performing these songs and hearing them come back to me. That’s been my dream since I was a kid. Until I get to do that, I won’t say that I’ve made it.

This is an extract from an article that appears in print in our seventh edition, Page 76 of T Australia with the headline: “The Artist’s Way”