Inserting new narratives into amnesiac gaps created by colonial forces, adept at erasing our past, new mythologies are devised. This is the core of Afrofuturism: a conversation with the past projected into the future… The Warrior Saints dips into a melting pot of West African folklore, oral traditions, and aesthetics to fabricate new modalities. It is also a riposte to the disneyficaton of ...
The series African Jetset is a response to the violence and trauma that has marked the bulk of African migratory patterns, from slavery to economic or conflict driven displacement: “I wanted to create a corrective space, an alternate timeline where there was never any interruption: no slave-trade, no colonialization, no external war or plunder. Instead the continent developed along ...
Preview from the first volume of my graphic novel series “Hotel Legba” in which the Yoruba gods of the diaspora converge at the crossroads.
Poetic meditations involving vinyl records and right turning conch shells
Afropunk Festival, Ikorodu, Lagos, Nigera 1982. The kids came dressed as cats, we don’t know why…
Sketches for Untitled Kingdom Volume IV: “Literary & Debating Society”, an episode in which the girls at the orphanage fortuitously receive the wrong uniforms, instead of the ones ordered for them at the behest of the First Lady. The backstory: the orphan schoolgirls have now figured out how to wield certain forest magic elements in their favour, and set about to end their isolation and ...
This is pure vicarious projection. Despite my aspirations, my NYE was fairly tame, spent in the Alps amongst friends. I did sort of get stoned by the altitude and forest trees on a hike earlier in the day. Rendered me unable to drink.
It’s always Fashion Week in the Realm of the Spirits. The entire spectrum of animal existence blends together and synthesizes: this is true meaning of couture.
As kids, back in Nigeria, sometimes we’d go strolling with my aunt in the evenings to get nocturnal treats, roadside cornucopia of roast corn, plantains, akara, suya from food vendors lining the night streets with large vats of oil, burning coal pits, aromas intoxicating and magical… My aunt sternly warned us not to stare at people because not everyone at the Night Market was ...