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Some primal force was set free among Nigerian artists in the years leading up to independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was nearing its end and the people of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were poised for a new future in which they would shape the nature of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that double position, that tension of contemporary life and tradition, were artists in all their varieties. Practitioners across the country, in continuous conversation with one another, created works that recalled their traditions but in a current setting. Figures 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 remaking the vision of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that assembled in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was profound. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its traditional ways, but adjusted to contemporary life. It was a innovative creative form, both introspective and festive. Often it was an art that suggested the many aspects of Nigerian folklore; often it incorporated common experiences.

Ancestral beings, ancestral presences, rituals, masquerades featured significantly, alongside popular subjects of dancing figures, likenesses and scenes, but presented in a distinctive light, with a visual language that was totally distinct from anything in the Western artistic canon.

Global Influences

It is important to emphasize that these were not artists working in seclusion. 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 response as such but a taking back, a retrieval, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other area in which this Nigerian modernism expressed 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 depict 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 important contemporary events bear this out. The long-anticipated opening of the art museum in the ancient city of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the single most important 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 writers and creatives in Britain have been a vital part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who resided here during the Nigerian civil war and created Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, individuals such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have shaped the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The tradition continues with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the possibilities of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who transformed 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.

Creative Viewpoints

Regarding Artistic Originality

For me, Sade Adu is a perfect example of the British-Nigerian artistic energy. She combined jazz, soul and pop into something that was distinctively personal, not imitating anyone, but producing a fresh approach. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something new out of history.

I was raised between Lagos and London, and used to pay repeated visits to Lagos's National Museum, which is where I first saw Ben Enwonwu's sculpture Anyanwu. It was compelling, elevating and deeply connected to Nigerian identity, and left a lasting impression on me, even as a child. In 1977, when I was a teenager, Nigeria hosted the important Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of recently created work: art glass, sculptures, monumental installations. It was a developmental experience, showing me that art could tell the story of a nation.

Written Impact

If I had to choose one piece of Nigerian art which has influenced 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 affected my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a pivotal moment for me – it expressed a history that had shaped my life but was never spoken about.

I grew up in Newcastle in the 70s and 80s, and there was no familiarity 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.

Artistic Social Commentary

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in colorful costumes, and confronted establishment. 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 combination of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a musical backdrop and a call to action for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be confidently vocal and creative, something that feels even more pressing for my generation.

Current Expressions

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

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

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

Cultural Legacy

Nigerians are, fundamentally, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a natural drive, a dedicated approach and a network that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our aspiration is grounded in culture.

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

The twofold aspect of my heritage influences what I find most urgent in my work, navigating the different elements of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different urgencies and interests into my poetry, which becomes a space where these impacts and viewpoints melt together.