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Some primal energy was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years before independence. The hundred-year dominance of colonialism was coming to a close and the people of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and ebullient energy, were poised for a different era in which they would decide the framework of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that dual stance, that contradiction of contemporary life and heritage, were creators in all their varieties. Creatives across the country, in constant conversation with one another, developed works that referenced their cultural practices but in a current context. 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 reimagining the dream of art in a rigorously Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that congregated in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was profound. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its traditional ways, but adapted to the present day. It was a innovative creative form, both introspective and joyous. Often it was an art that suggested the many facets of Nigerian folklore; often it referenced common experiences.

Spirits, ancestral presences, ceremonies, cultural performances featured significantly, alongside popular subjects of rhythmic shapes, portraits and vistas, but rendered in a unique light, with a color scheme that was completely distinct from anything in the European art heritage.

Global Exchanges

It is important to emphasize that these were not artists producing in solitude. They were in contact with the movements 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 retrieval, a recovery, of what cubism borrowed from Africa.

The other area 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 show a nation bubbling 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 contrary is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Modern Significance

Two notable contemporary events confirm this. The eagerly expected opening of the art museum in the historic center of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the single most important event in African art since the well-known burning of African works of art by the British in that same city, in 1897.

The other is the approaching exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to highlight Nigeria's input to the larger 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 lived here during the Nigerian civil war and crafted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, artists such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have shaped the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The tradition endures with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the potential of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who reimagined Nigerian craft and modern design. They have prolonged the story of Nigerian modernism into modern era, bringing about a renewal not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Creative Insights

Regarding Musical Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a perfect example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. She fused jazz, soul and pop into something that was entirely her own, not copying anyone, but creating a new sound. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it produces something new out of history.

I came of age between Lagos and London, and used to pay frequent visits to Lagos's National Museum, which is where I first saw Ben Enwonwu's sculpture Anyanwu. It was powerful, elevating and intimately tied to Nigerian identity, and left a enduring impact on me, even as a child. In 1977, when I was a teenager, Nigeria hosted the landmark Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of newly commissioned work: art glass, engravings, impressive creations. It was a developmental experience, showing me that art could tell the story of a nation.

Literary Significance

If I had to choose one piece of Nigerian art which has affected 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 exposure 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 Political Expression

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed bare-chested, in colorful costumes, and spoke truth to power. I'd grown up with the idea that we always had to be very cautious of not wanting to say too much when it came to politics. His music – a blend 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 boldly outspoken and creative, something that feels even more urgent for my generation.

Modern Manifestations

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 confidently personal.

I make human form works that explore identity, memory and family, often using my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with looking backwards – at family photographs, Nigerian parties, rich fabrics – and transforming those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the skills to blend 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 discovering 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.

Artistic Legacy

Nigerians are, basically, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so productive in the creative space: a innate motivation, a committed attitude and a network that encourages one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our ambition is grounded in culture.

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

The duality of my heritage influences what I find most pressing 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 priorities and interests into my poetry, which becomes a space where these impacts and perspectives melt together.