Dina Ayada is exactly as you’d imagine her: present, grounded, confident — the opposite of a try-hard. She arrives on our call with a bedazzled smile and an energy that cuts clean through the screen, despite having spent the last two years relentlessly crafting her debut album, IDENTITY, out today, January 16.
“I started making the album two years ago without thinking, ‘Oh, this is going to be an album,’” she tells me. “When I went to L.A., I linked up with Gunna, and we started going through demos. That’s when he suggested the idea of executive producing my debut.”
At just 22 years old, Ayada already had a vision. After her very first TikTok amassed over 1.5 million views, she booked a flight to Los Angeles with no concrete plan, only instinct. “It really ended up being God’s plan,” Ayada says.
What was meant to be a one-month stay turned into two; when she returned to Belgium, opportunity followed. “I was in law school at the time, and I just dropped out,” she says matter-of-factly. “I’d be sitting in class thinking, ‘Nah, what can I do to get out of here and actually do what I love?’”
Dina’s success was bound to arrive. Today, she releases a 12-track album executive-produced by Gunna, who she considers a friend and mentor.
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“This being my first album means more than the world to me because I finally get to show the world who I am. It’s more than music; it’s really just a personal story. I’m taking the listeners through a whole trip. You got the rock star Dina, the rap Dina, and the singer Dina,” she says, fittingly explaining the album title, IDENTITY, which arrived organically during the sessions.
Listening to early demos, Gunna emphasized the importance of making her identity audible in the music. At the time, Ayada admits she was still searching for it. After several sessions, that clarity arrived. She began to hear herself – the anger, the sadness, the vulnerability — emotions heightened by leaving home to work in Los Angeles, a separation that never gets easier.
That emotional depth is layered with cultural nuance. As a Moroccan artist living in Belgium, Dina’s identities coexist fluidly, but her Moroccan side remains the most audible in her music. Making IDENTITY, Ayada listened to many traditional Arabic songs, in which the flow and melodies became an inspiration. “They’re just so different with it,” she explains.
Though deeply personal, Dina describes IDENTITY as “just a warm-up” for what’s to come. She wants this album to clarify who she is, but she is adamant about being capable of more.
“I want to show people that I’m not just an underground artist anymore. I’m actually educated about music, and I’m thinking bigger. I didn’t really want to hop into the bag that I can hop into. I want to take it slow.”
As her world expands, Ayada insists her essence remains unchanged, something she believes her early fans will acknowledge. The messages she carries remain rooted in positivity and honesty, now shaped by lived experience and growth. The production may be bigger, the vision sharper, but the values remain intact.
“Now, I’ve grown into a woman, and the production grew bigger. But it’s still me. I still stand for the same values.” Ayada argues.
For a young woman navigating the industry at this level, community is essential. Gratitude flows easily from Ayada when she speaks about her collaborators. Early on, she had to enforce boundaries more strictly, unsure of how she was being perceived. Now, she moves through rooms grounded in mutual respect. But it’s not just good people, it’s how she carries herself. That sense of security is something Dina fiercely protects.
“I’m very protective of my energy, my voice, and my image. I’m selective with who I’m working with and what I’m saying. I’m selective with everything I do, basically. It’s not curated or whatever, but it’s just more so moving strategically. I know what I’m doing. I know what I want. I have the right people around me. I don’t feel like there’s competition because I’m really in my own world.”
That self-assuredness explains why IDENTITY features only one guest, Gunna, who questioned the lack of features, she recalls with a laugh. For Ayada, collaboration has to be rooted in genuine connection. If the bond isn’t real, the music won’t be either, and audiences can hear the difference. She gestures to her relationship with Gunna as an example.
“Gunna and I were in Dubai with his mom. We go bowling. We celebrated Thanksgiving together. We have regular conversations at dinner.”
In practice, Gunna was more than an executive producer; he showed up consistently with guidance, encouragement, and protection. His presence helped create a space where she felt safe to create freely without judgment.
“He’s my guy, for real. I respect the fact that he would show up every single day, even when he just got back from the airport, he would pull up,” Ayada says.
But for Dina, music making isn’t just artistic, it’s spiritual. This attitude isn’t just personal belief, but a critique of today’s music industry.
Ayada explains that she finds today’s music scene ego-driven, preferring authenticity in her own work: “Nowadays it’s hard for me to listen to new music; it has to grow on me or something. I feel like the scene is different. I don’t like when artists put up an act or pretend to be somebody that they’re not.”
Song by song, Ayada is trying to shift that energy. She speaks about music as medicine, a way to lift people during a time when so many are struggling. That outlook, she says, comes from her upbringing. Raised by parents who emphasized respect, she’s learned how to move through hurt without losing herself. Life, to her, is about feeling alive, not consumed by comparison or resentment.
“Like, why we mad at each other for? Why are you hating on me? What’s hate? Hate is really love, you’re just insecure.”
With IDENTITY, Dina Ayada isn’t just introducing herself; she’s reminding the industry, and her listeners, that authenticity still matters, so does love.
Pop Culture Editor-At-Large at Complex MENA.
