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A certain fundamental vitality was unleashed among Nigerian creatives in the years leading up to independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the people of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were ready for a fresh chapter in which they would determine the framework of their lives.

Those who best expressed that complex situation, that contradiction of contemporary life and tradition, were creators in all their varieties. Creatives across the country, in ongoing exchange with one another, developed works that referenced their cultural practices but in a modern framework. Artists such as Yusuf Grillo in the north, Bruce Onobrakpeya from the midwest, Ben Enwonwu from the east and Twins Seven Seven from the west were reinventing the dream of art in a thoroughly Nigerian context.

The impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that assembled in Lagos and exhibited all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its ancient ways, but adjusted to contemporary life. It was a innovative creative form, both introspective and joyous. Often it was an art that alluded to the many dimensions of Nigerian legend; often it incorporated everyday life.

Ancestral beings, traditional entities, practices, masquerades featured centrally, alongside popular subjects of rhythmic shapes, portraits and vistas, but rendered in a unique light, with a visual language that was totally distinct from anything in the Western artistic canon.

International Influences

It is crucial to stress that these were not artists creating in solitude. They were in touch with the trends of world art, as can be seen by the reactions to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a reaction as such but a taking back, a retrieval, of what cubism borrowed from Africa.

The other domain in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement manifested itself is in the Nigerian novel. Works such as Chinua Achebe's seminal Things Fall Apart, Wole Soyinka's The Interpreters and Amos Tutuola's The Palm-Wine Drinkard are all works that portray a nation simmering with energy and societal conflicts. Christopher Okigbo wrote in Labyrinths, 1967, that "We carry in our worlds that flourish / Our worlds that have failed." But the reverse is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Contemporary Influence

Two notable contemporary events demonstrate this. The eagerly expected opening of the art museum in the ancient city of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the most significant event in African art since the infamous burning of African works of art by the British in that same city, in 1897.

The other is the upcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to focus on Nigeria's input to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and artists in Britain have been a crucial part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who lived here during the Nigerian civil war and crafted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, individuals such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have influenced the artistic and cultural life of these isles.

The heritage persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the opportunities of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who alchemised Nigerian craft and modern design. They have continued the story of Nigerian modernism into modern era, bringing about a revitalization not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Artist Perspectives

Regarding Musical Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a perfect example of the British-Nigerian artistic energy. She combined jazz, soul and pop into something that was entirely her own, not imitating anyone, but developing a new sound. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it creates something new out of history.

I was raised between Lagos and London, and used to pay regular visits to Lagos's National Museum, which is where I first saw Ben Enwonwu's sculpture Anyanwu. It was powerful, inspiring and intimately tied to Nigerian identity, and left a memorable effect on me, even as a child. In 1977, when I was a teenager, Nigeria hosted the significant Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of newly commissioned work: art glass, engravings, large-scale works. It was a developmental experience, showing me that art could narrate the history of a nation.

Literary Impact

If I had to choose one piece of Nigerian art which has impacted me the most, it would be Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. It is about the Nigerian civil war in the 60s, which separated my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a foundational moment for me – it articulated a history that had molded my life but was never spoken about.

I grew up in Newcastle in the 70s and 80s, and there was no access to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would mock the idea of Nigerian or African art. We pursued representation wherever we could.

Musical Activism

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in vibrant costumes, and spoke truth to power. I'd grown up with the idea that we always had to be very careful of not wanting to say too much when it came to politics. His music – a blend of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a accompaniment and a call to action for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be boldly vocal and creative, something that feels even more urgent for my generation.

Modern Expressions

The artist who has inspired me most is Njideka Akunyili Crosby. I saw her work for the first time at the Venice Biennale in 2013, and it felt like finding belonging. Her focus on family, domestic life and memory gave me the certainty to know that my own experiences were enough, and that I could build a career making work that is unapologetically personal.

I make human form works that explore identity, memory and family, often referencing my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with looking backwards – at family photographs, Nigerian parties, rich fabrics – and converting those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the skills to combine these experiences with my British identity, and that blending became the expression I use as an artist today.

It wasn't until my mid-20s that I began discovering Black artists – specifically Nigerian ones – because art education mostly overlooked them. In the last five years or so, Nigeria's cultural presence has grown significantly. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young international artists finding their voices.

Cultural Tradition

Nigerians are, essentially, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a natural drive, a committed attitude and a community that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our aspiration is rooted in culture.

For me, poetry has been the main bridge connecting me to Nigeria, especially as someone who doesn't speak Yoruba. Niyi Osundare's poetry has been formative in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to shared experiences while remaining firmly grounded in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how innovation within tradition can produce new forms of expression.

The twofold aspect of my heritage influences what I find most important in my work, managing the different elements of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These connected experiences bring different concerns and interests into my poetry, which becomes a realm where these effects and viewpoints melt together.