Once, Nigeria’s identity was tied to oil — barrels, pipelines, and tank farms. It was the metric, it was the story. But oil, no matter how powerful, has nothing on the audacity of a people who live loudly. Today, what the world consumes from Nigeria isn’t crude, but culture: beats that shake stadiums, fabrics that shimmer across runways, films that crash Netflix servers, flavours that linger on foreign tongues, slang that slips into global playlists and timelines. Culture is the new crude. And unlike oil, you can’t drill it, bottle it, or store it in a depot. It announces itself everywhere.
There was a time when it felt like we were mostly looking outward for culture — for music, fashion, and the stories that shaped our imaginations. But those days are behind us. Today, the world is looking back at us. Nigerian culture has become impossible to ignore — not because anyone gave us permission, but because we insisted on being seen and heard in our own way. That confidence is what inspired this week’s cover story, “Loud, Bold, Unapologetic: How Culture Became Nigeria’s Biggest Export.” It’s a reflection of the spirit that defines us: restless, inventive, flamboyant, resilient. Culture is no longer background to the Nigerian story; it is the story. And what’s even more exciting is that this isn’t a passing wave. It’s not a trend the world will move on from when the playlist changes or when the headlines shift. Culture here doesn’t fade; it evolves. It grows louder, sharper, bolder. It’s a future being built right in front of us. And that’s why we must all get involved, because if there’s anything culture teaches us, it’s that we are part of something bigger than ourselves. Each of us contributes to this energy in our own ways, whether by what we create, how we live, or even how we carry our identities into the world. And that’s worth celebrating.
“I
Speaking of celebration, can you believe it’s September already? The months feel like they’re racing by. September has always been a special month for me, and I hope this one is for you, too. How are you doing? Have you had a chance to breathe, reflect, and find joy in small things before the year sweeps past again? If not, take this as your reminder. We all need it.
As we close this month and step into another, I hope you find your own rhythm. I hope you live loudly, in whatever way that means for you. And I hope you carry some of that same Nigerian boldness into the weeks ahead.
Love,
4th October 1969 - 24th August 2025
EXECUTIVE EDITOR
Senior Lit 2025: When Lagos Met London in Style
SENIOR LIT 2025: WHEN LAGOS MET LONDON IN STYLE
By Funke Babs-Kufeji
London got a taste of Lagos flair over the weekend as Senior Lit 2025 lit up the Osiris Club in Stanmore. Hosted by the dynamic duo, Chico and Schullzz, the night was a seamless blend of fashion, music, and that unmistakable Nigerian party spirit.
Guests showed up and showed out in the themed white top and blue denim dress code, with prizes going to the most stylish male and female looks of the night. The red carpet kicked off at 8:30 pm, and from the moment Chico and Schullzz took the mic, the vibe was set for a night of nonstop energy.
From the buzzing dance floor to standout fashion moments, Senior Lit 2025 embodied exactly what #LagosMeetsLondon stands for—culture, connection, and a night no one will forget.
BULU,BIMS
LADI ADENEKAN, SANTINO AND AKIN ARIYO
EBIAHO
LITTLE FASHION CHOICES THAT MAKE A BIG DIFFERENCE
It’s not always the sequined gown or the designer “It” bag that seals the deal. Sometimes, the secret to great style lies in the tiniest choices—the quiet, almost invisible rituals that make people pause and think: she’s got it together. Call them little fashion habits, but trust me, they add up to something major.
Fit Is Everything
You could spend half your salary on a dress, but if it doesn’t sit right, it won’t serve you. That’s why the world’s bestdressed women swear by their tailors. A tiny nip at the waist, sleeves that end exactly at the wrist, trousers that graze just the right length—these are tweaks that don’t shout, but they speak volumes. Clothes don’t need to be expensive to look expensive; they need to fit like they were made for you.
Shoes Never Lie
Here’s the thing about shoes: they tell on you. Always. You could be wearing a high-street outfit, but polished, well-kept shoes instantly elevate your look. On the flip side, scuffed, tired shoes undo everything. It’s not about having dozens of pairs—it’s about caring for the few that you love. Re-sole, polish, and store them properly. Your shoes, more than you think, narrate your story.
Press, Don’t Stress
Wrinkled clothes are the silent killer of style. A gorgeous silk blouse means nothing if it’s creased to death. Pressing or steaming may feel old-fashioned, but the payoff is worth it. Crisp clothes carry authority. They whisper that you’re intentional, even when you’re just running errands. A little steam goes a long way.
Accessories: The Quiet GameChangers
It’s incredible how something as simple as a pair of earrings or a belt can change your entire mood. Accessories are the magic wand of fashion: a scarf turns a plain outfit into Parisian chic, sunglasses create instant mystery, and a bangle or two can bring life to your simplest black dress. The trick
SKIN TINTS VS. FOUNDATIONS — WHO WINS?
is restraint—you don’t need much, just the right touch.
Don’t Forget the Invisible Outfit: Fragrance
Technically, it’s not fabric, but fragrance is part of your style arsenal. People may forget your dress, but they won’t forget how you smelled when you walked past them. A spritz before leaving the house finishes the look. Clothes drape the body, but perfume cloaks the aura.
Build a Wardrobe
That Works Hard
Here’s a truth no one tells you: the best wardrobes aren’t packed. They’re curated. A crisp white shirt, jeans that love you back, a blazer that sharpens every look—when your basics are solid, your styling feels effortless. Trends will come and go, but a well-built foundation gives you the freedom to play without ever looking lost.
Grooming is Style Too
You can’t separate grooming from fashion. Polished nails, neat hair, moisturised skin—these little rituals complete the picture. Even in the most casual outfit, good grooming adds a touch of polish. Think of it as the frame that makes the painting pop.
The Magic of Consistency
Anyone can look amazing once. True style is about consistency. The woman who always looks put together isn’t necessarily the one wearing the most expensive clothes— she’s the one with reliable habits. She hems her trousers. She shines her shoes. She takes two minutes to steam her blouse. Over time, those little habits become her signature.
Not too long ago, the word “makeup base” meant one thing and one thing only: foundation. It was the unshakable staple in every woman’s makeup bag, the product you leaned on for weddings, owambes, office presentations, and everything in between. But somewhere along the line — maybe with the rise of TikTok tutorials or the global obsession with “clean girl” beauty — a new player slid onto the scene: the skin tint. Lightweight, dewy, and promising that “I-justhad-a-facial” glow, it’s become the go-to for women who want to look put together without looking done up.
In Nigeria, you can almost map the mood by what’s on a woman’s face. There’s the foundation loyalist, gliding through an event with not a pore in sight — picture-perfect under flash, untouched by humidity. Then there’s her friend, sipping chapman at the same table, skin tint on, radiating that effortless “soft life” glow that looks like she spent the morning at a spa instead of in traffic. Both faces are beautiful, both tell different stories. Foundation is the old faithful. It’s the friend who shows up at every party, reliable and always ready to deliver. For decades, it has been the product you reach for when the stakes are high — when you need your look to last from the church service to the afterparty without sliding off your face. And Nigerian brands have caught up
fast. From Zaron to Nuban Beauty, formulas are getting lighter, more skin-like, built to withstand heat and dance floors. Foundation still has that aura of “serious makeup” — the stuff of red carpets, photo shoots, and carefully tied geles. But skin tints… they’re a whole mood. They’re the five-minute face before a quick flight to Abuja, the makeup you smear on with your fingers while scrolling through Instagram. They don’t want to cover up — they want to enhance. They let your skin, with all its freckles, scars, or texture, peek through, but in a way that feels deliberate. They’re breezy, aspirational, the kind of product that makes you believe in minimalism even if your makeup bag is overflowing. And with many infused with SPF or hyaluronic acid, they feel more like skincare than makeup — perfect for women who want to glow without trying too hard. These two products don’t cancel each other out; they coexist side by side. Some days call for the polish of foundation, other days for the ease of a tint. Nigerian women are learning to switch between the two depending on their mood, their outfit, and their calendar. It’s less a battle and more a spectrum, one that mirrors the way beauty itself is evolving: from full glam to paredback, from perfectly sculpted to softly undone. At the heart of it, whether you’re team foundation or team skin tint, the real shift is in the freedom to choose. No pressure to commit, no single definition of “done.” Just skin — sometimes flawless, sometimes glowy, always yours.
ELIZABETH ANTHONY
ELIZABETH ELOHOR
SKIN GLOW SECRETS THAT COME FROM THE KITCHEN
The beauty industry loves to convince us that radiant skin lives in a jar with a three-digit price tag and a glossy celebrity campaign. But the truth?
Sometimes the real glow doesn’t come from Sephora’s shelves — it comes from your spice rack, fruit bowl, and pantry staples. For centuries, women across the world — from Mediterranean grandmothers to Nigerian mums with their jars of shea butter — have been reaching into the kitchen for skincare that works. Now, as clean beauty and holistic living are trending again, those ageold secrets are finding their way back into our routines. Here’s what to look for the next time you’re rummaging in the fridge.
Honey: The Golden Glow Giver
Cleopatra knew what she was doing. Honey is naturally antibacterial and rich in antioxidants.
A thin layer left on your face for 15 minutes hydrates, soothes, and leaves skin supple. Taken with warm water and lemon in the morning, it also gives an internal detox that shows up as a clearer glow.
Turmeric: Nature’s Brightening Powder
Long before turmeric lattes, this golden spice was smoothing complexions in Indian households. Its anti-inflammatory properties calm redness while brightening dull skin. Mix with yoghurt or honey for a mask but always dilute unless you want to explain why you’re glowing yellow.
Avocado: The Glow-Boosting Butter
Half an avocado mashed into a creamy paste works as an instant hydration mask. Rich in fatty acids and vitamins C and E, it’s like brunch for your face. And when eaten, it helps boost collagen, keeping skin plump.
Green Tea: Calm in a Cup
Chilled green tea bags on tired eyes can shrink puffiness in minutes. Brewed and cooled, it doubles as a face mist packed with antioxidants. For a refreshing twist, mix with aloe vera juice and spritz on throughout the day.
THE OUTFIT FORMULA: 5 PIECES THAT WILL SAVE YOU EVERY MORNING
Oats: Breakfast for Your Face
When your skin feels irritated, oats are the comfort food it craves. Blended into a powder and mixed with milk or honey, oats calm redness and soften skin. It’s essentially a spa mask disguised as porridge.
Olive Oil: Liquid Gold
Mediterranean women have used olive oil for centuries to lock in moisture. Just a drop or two massaged in at night will leave you dewy by morning. Just don’t go overboard — the goal is glow, not plantain fryer.
Papaya & Shea Butter: The Local Legends
Closer to home, pawpaw has been a quiet glow secret in Nigerian kitchens for decades. Its natural enzymes exfoliate and brighten gently. And let’s not forget shea butter — “ori” — the original moisturiser before body lotions became a thing. Nothing keeps the skin soft, smooth, and luminous quite like it.
The Simplest Secret: Water
It may sound cliché, but glowing skin is thirsty skin. No matter what you apply, if you’re not hydrated from within, your skin will snitch on you. Keep a jug nearby, drop in cucumber slices if plain water bores you, and sip your way to a natural radiance.
Some mornings, your closet feels like a comedy sketch: rails full of clothes but somehow, nothing to wear. That’s where the outfit formula steps in—five reliable pieces that act like your personal style safety net. These aren’t about chasing trends or stressing over dress codes; they’re about getting you out the door quickly while still looking like you put in the effort. And the real magic? These pieces flex with your lifestyle. Whether you’re running school drop-off, presenting at a pitch meeting, jetting off on a flight, heading to date night, or even indulging in a slow weekend brunch, they adapt seamlessly
2. The White Shirt (But Make It Yours)
Think of this as the wardrobe chameleon. An oversized, half-tucked version gives you that effortless “I woke up like this” vibe. A cropped and sharp cut can easily moonlight as night-out glam. Throw it open over a bikini and suddenly, it’s holiday resort wear. It’s less about owning a white shirt and more about styling it to suit your energy that day. Roll up the sleeves, tie it at the waist, layer with gold chains—it’s the canvas that lets you paint your mood. image 03285
When in doubt, they’ll always make your outfit look intentional—even on mornings you’re barely awake.
image 8451
5. The Statement That Feels Like You
1. Trousers That Do the Heavy Lifting Forget the stiff corporate kind that reminds you of mandatory HR meetings. Instead, look for trousers with personality: fluid wide-legs that float as you walk, perfectly cropped tailoring that shows off your shoes, or relaxed khakis that balance polish with ease. The right pair doesn’t just cover your legs—they set the tone. They go from sneakers at a casual lunch to strappy heels at dinner without skipping a beat. And the bonus? They make “I had no time this morning” look like “I planned this.”
3. The Blazer That Solves Problems Every wardrobe deserves a “fixer.” Enter the blazer— the great equaliser of fashion. Jeans feel too basic? Add a blazer. Slip dress feels too bare? Blazer. Even your gym leggings suddenly bow to its authority when paired with one. Go oversized and boxy for that streetstyle cool, or opt for a clean, fitted cut if power dressing is more your lane. Either way, it’s the fastest shortcut to looking polished, even if you’re still half-replying to texts in bed.
4. Shoes You Can Trust
This isn’t about owning dozens of pairs—it’s about finding the one. That faithful pair of shoes that works with almost everything in your closet. Maybe it’s pristine white trainers that instantly freshen up any look. Maybe it’s sleek loafers that say, “I mean business, but make it chic.” Or ankle boots that carry you across seasons with zero fuss. The golden rule: they should pair with at least 80% of your wardrobe.
This is where your personality enters the chat. A neon bag, vintage sunglasses, chunky gold hoops, or a silk scarf you knot twelve different ways. These pieces add the spice—the little twist that makes “clothes” turn into “your look.” Without them, even a perfect shirtand-trouser combo risks looking forgettable. With them, you’re unmistakably you. It doesn’t need to scream; it just needs to say, “This is my signature.” image - Laila Johnson
2013. That was the first time Bucci Franklin came into my consciousness — AY’s Crib. He played KC, the goofy, charming one with the short dreads and the baby face. The pecs weren’t pec’ing yet, and you could tell he was still climbing. But there was a spark — that thing that made you say, “This guy go blow.”
Fast forward to 2025, and Bucci’s name is everywhere. His performance as Oboz in the Netflix series To Kill a Monkey has solidified what many of us have always known: this guy is not just one to watch — he’s one to remember. I sat with Bucci to talk about the moment, the manifestation, the madness, and the man beneath the muscle.
By Ayo Lawal
Bucci, you’re the man of the moment — everyone’s talking about To Kill a Monkey. What’s this moment feeling like for you?
Ayo, I feel very good. Very, very blessed. I’m thankful to God — and to everyone, honestly. Because it’s one thing to give a solid performance and another thing entirely for the world to actually “receive” it. And not just receive it, but acknowledge it in all its glory.
That part has been humbling. But I’m also aware that it’s a very sensitive period for me. Whatever I do next — or don’t do — matters. This kind of moment can either open the next chapter or close a door if you’re not intentional. So while I’m grateful, I’m also grounded. I know the work continues.
When you first got the script and saw the role of Oboz, what was your gut reaction?
(Laughs) Man, won’t lie to you. The way the script came to me was a bit wild. It was Remi Adetiba, who sent it over — he’s one of the co-producers on the project. He hit me up and said, “I’ve got something for you.” At that point, didn’t even know it was a lead role— nothing like that.
Next thing, he gives me an hour — just one hour — to send in a self-tape. One hour! And I won’t lie, part of me was like, “Wait, first — I’ve done some pretty solid work already. What’s with this pressure?” That little ego tried to creep in. But I thank God humbled myself. Even though I wasn’t feeling my best physically — I’d just come off being sick — sat down and recorded it—no fancy setup. didn’t even stand. Just acted from my face, my eyes. And then — boom. Remi calls back and says I got it. Here’s the thing, though: manifested this role. I’d been saying for a while that wanted to work with Kemi Adetiba. I even texted her after sent in the audition, just saying, “Can’t wait to work with you.” At that point, I hadn’t gotten the part yet. But something in me just knew. It was written.
Oboz is such a gritty, layered character. What did you draw on personally to bring him to life?
Oboz is nothing like me. Absolutely nothing. I’m calm. I’m grounded. I’m spiritual. respect people. respect institutions. Oboz? Oboz is chaos. He’s emotionally broken, unpredictable, wounded – and dangerous. But once got the role, knew I had to live him. started growing my hair out. I started walking like him, talking like him. My family would look at me sideways sometimes. (Laughs) was already becoming Oboz before we even started filming. That was the only way to make it real. It was a full embodiment. Not just acting – becoming. I let him sit in me. let him speak.
He’s from Warri, and you have roots in that region too. How much of yourself — or your hometown — did you see in him?
Funny enough, a lot of people think I’m from Warri. But I’m a proper Igbo boy — from Imo State. guess it just means did the job well enough that people believed it. That, and I’ve played a bunch of roles with that South-South, Benin-Warri energy. Even in Rattlesnake: The Ahanna Story, was that kind of character. And the Pidgin — people always associate fluent Pidgin with Warri boys. So maybe that’s part of it. But no, I’m not from there. And honestly, there’s very little of me in Oboz. Maybe just the love for family – that’s the only piece of myself might say I saw in him. Everything else? Nah. I’m not that guy.
A lot of people have said this is your ‘arrival’ moment – but you’ve been doing the work for years. Did it feel different stepping onto set as the lead this time? Yeah, it indeed felt different. Look, take all my work seriously, no matter the size of the role. But when you’re the lead, you carry the weight. Your name is at the top of the call sheet. People are looking to you to set the tone. You can’t slack. So yes, I prepared extra hard. Not just for the performance, but for the responsibility. And I’m grateful that everything I’d done before — all the roles, all the setbacks, all the growth — led me here. Nothing was wasted. Nothing is ever wasted.
What was the most challenging scene to shoot — emotionally or physically? Every single scene in To Kill a Monkey came with its own weight. There wasn’t a moment when felt like, “Oh, this one will be easy.” No. The entire series demanded something from me — physically, emotionally, even spiritually. But if I had to pick
one that really stood out, it would be the restaurant altercation. That scene... whew. That one carried heat. Not just because of what Oboz was saying, but because of what everyone else in that scene brought to it. Funny enough, that was the same scene used for my audition. It stretches you. You also can’t afford to slack when you’re surrounded by people who are killing it in every take. That moment was explosive, and it felt like every piece of it — from the dialogue to the tension to the energy in the room — came alive on screen.
When did you first realise this wasn’t just a passion — it could be a career?
For me, this was never a hobby. From the moment understood what purpose meant, knew mine was in front of the camera. There was never a time thought, “Maybe I’ll be a banker,” or “Let me try something else.
“ No. Acting, storytelling — it’s always been my North Star. And I’m deeply grateful that get to do this professionally. That this thing love so much is also the thing that feeds me, clothes me, pays my bills, and gives me a sense of identity. That’s not something take lightly at all. Some people go their whole lives without finding what lights them up up. found mine early — and I’m walking in it.
“I MANIFESTED OBOZ”:
bucci
FRANKLIN ON HIS BIGGEST ROLE YET, SELFDOUBT, AND THE STORIES HE’S HUNGRY TO TELL.
You often bring such emotional depth to your roles. Where does that come from?
That’s God. can’t even front. It’s not training or technique — not really. don’t know how I’m able to feel things so deeply and then channel them into a character. Sometimes watch myself back and go,
“How did I do that?” I don’t always have the words for it. don’t think any actor truly does. You just... feel. You listen. You surrender. And somehow, that surrender translates into something the audience connects with. Something that lands. That’s grace. That’s divine.
Have you ever felt boxed into a certain kind of role? Did To Kill a Monkey break that?
get it — when people see you do a certain kind of role really well, they start to associate you with that lane. And yes, I’ve done a few action-heavy projects — Rattlesnake, Far From Home, even Razz Guy had that gritty edge.
But what people don’t always see is the variety within those characters. They might all move with a certain kind of toughness, but their intentions? Their emotional maps?
Completely different. Plus, I’ve done comedy. I’ve done drama. I’ve played the lover boy, the broken man, the villain, the clown. don’t feel boxed in. Not at all. And if anything, To Kill a Monkey just reminded people that can do depth. can do subtlety. can endure pain, silence, and power; can do all of it.
Do you feel like you’ve earned this moment — or does it still feel surreal?
I’ve earned every tweet, every DM, every shout-out, every bit of love.
say that not from a place of arrogance, but truth. This didn’t happen overnight. I’ve been doing this for a very, very long time. You also said that since 2013, you have known me. That’s over a decade of grinding. Of waiting. Of praying. But even with all that work, still give all the glory to God. Because there are people who’ve worked just as hard, and they’re still waiting for their moment. So yes — I earned it. But it’s
grace that brought it home. Grace that amplified it. Grace that let the world finally see what I’ve been carrying.
What do you hope audiences walk away with after watching To Kill a Monkey —especially Oboz’s story?
For me, Oboz represents consequence. You can’t go through life doing people dirty — lying, cheating, stealing, killing — and think the universe won’t respond. Maybe not today. Maybe not even in this lifetime. But trust me, it comes back around.
What want people to see in Oboz’s journey is that choices matter.
Power doesn’t protect you forever. When you cross lines, especially the ones written in blood and betrayal, there’s always a reckoning. It might be spiritual. It might be political. It might even be personal. But it comes.
Now that the spotlight’s even brighter — what kind of stories are you hungry to tell?
I want to tell stories that centre women. That amplifies them. That gives them the space to be complex, powerful, broken, magical — everything they are in real life. We don’t do enough of that in our climate — celebrating women, that is. That has to change.
And I want to be part of that change. I’m already developing something right now. Shine Rosman is in it. We’ve got an amazing cast, a script that’ll blow people away, and a message that’s bigger than all of us.
So if you’re reading this and you’re an investor? Or do you love creativity? Come on board. Let’s make history. Let’s tell stories that matter — and do it with heart, beauty, and respect.
Watching Bucci Franklin’s growth over the years has been nothing short of inspiring. With each role, the spotlight grows brighter — more screen time, greater depth, and more impact. And somewhere in that journey, there’s a quiet reminder that the slow rise is just as powerful, just as valid.
Personally, I needed that reminder. It’s a lesson in patience, in trusting the process, and in staying true to your path even when the road feels uncertain. So yes, this moment — this win — feels personal. I’ve been rooting for him from the sidelines, and I’m truly grateful he took the time to share his story with me. Here’s to more power, more purpose, and more history in the making. make to express themselves, and the quiet rituals that carry meaning.
A lot of your work highlights people, traditions, and even spiritual spaces. What pulls you toward those kinds of stories? Before see myself as an artist, see myself as human, and that remains at the centre of my work. Through photography, I examine both myself and the world around me, seeking to understand how identity, memory, and heritage shape the ways we live. That perspective, deeply personal yet outward-looking, is what continually draws me to people, traditions, and spiritual spaces. They carry traces of the past while shaping how we imagine the future, offering a kind of continuity that fascinates me.
With AI now creating and altering images, do you feel photography has a new responsibility when it comes to protecting authenticity and legacy?
Yes, absolutely. The rise of AI-generated imagery has transformed the landscape of photography. Photography’s responsibility hasn’t shifted, but the stakes have. AI can now produce strikingly realistic images in seconds, blurring the line between what’s captured and what’s fabricated. But what it cannot reproduce is the human element: the emotional intent, ethical choices, and lived context that shape a photograph. That human touch — the imperfection, the intuition, the creative journey — remains irreplaceable.
Your trip to Senegal gave us such rich images of people, art, and spirituality. What moments from that trip really stayed with you?
Honestly, so many moments from Senegal stayed with me. Meeting people from all over the world who now call Senegal home, and seeing people not just living but thriving, expanded my sense of community. One place can’t forget is Saint-Louis, the former capital. The buildings, the fishermen heading out, the everyday rhythm of life — everything felt like a living archive. It was beautiful and grounding. Another striking discovery was how strong the surf culture is in Dakar. met people who had relocated there from across the world, just to be close to the waves. In a city surrounded by water, that scene built its own community. It reminded me that when culture is nurtured, it transforms places and brings people together.
When you’re photographing a community or tradition, how do you strike that balance between making it visually striking and keeping it authentic?
For me, authenticity always comes first. I begin by listening, spending time, and allowing people to guide how they want to be seen. The visual strength grows out of that trust. The balance doesn’t come from adding something “extra, “ but from paying close attention to what’s already extraordinary. That way, the photograph can strike the eye while remaining honest to
the story it holds.
You co-founded Recreate Africa. How has that platform helped you tell African cultural stories in fresh ways?
Recreate Africa was born out of a desire to challenge the single story often told about the continent and to show Africa beyond stereotypes. Founding it with likeminded peers gave us more than a platform to display work — it became a space to experiment with form, dialogue, and collaboration. Designers, artists, filmmakers, writers, researchers, and community members from across Africa all contributed their own angles. That collective mix created layered narratives with a freshness and depth that one person alone could not achieve. For me, it meant I was no longer working in isolation. I could test new modes of presentation — digital archives, exhibitions, campaigns, community conversations — ensuring stories didn’t just speak about people but returned to the spaces they came from. Most importantly, Recreate Africa has shown that African culture is not frozen in the past or limited to tradition. It is alive, inventive, and constantly in motion.
Your work is part of Iconic Women: From Everyday Life to Global Heroes at the Muhammad Ali Centre. What does it mean to see African women’s stories on such a global stage?
Seeing African women’s stories honoured on a global stage at the Muhammad Ali Centre is deeply meaningful. These photographs, chosen from over 470 submissions across 65 countries, go beyond aesthetics. They celebrate women whose everyday lives and extraordinary achievements are too often overlooked. For me, it’s a way of carrying those narratives forward with honesty and dignity. I’m grateful for the recognition, but even more encouraged that these images can travel, teach, and open space for more voices to be heard.
The exhibition runs until 2026 — what do you hope people walk away thinking or feeling after seeing your images there?
When people step out of the exhibition, hope they leave with more than an image lingering in their minds. want them to carry a quiet recognition, the kind that reshapes how we see. Too often, the stories of African women are reduced to headlines of struggle or silence. Instead, want visitors to remember them as I encounter them: bearing traditions with grace, imagining change with courage, and sustaining communities in ways both visible and unseen. If they walk away with the fuller truth — that African women are not defined by absence but by presence, resilience, and vision — then these images will have done their work. Your recent solo exhibition, In Her Hands, focused on rural Nigerian women and the land.
How do you see the link between environmental stories and cultural preservation?
Environmental stories and cultural preservation are inseparable, especially in rural African contexts where land, women, and tradition converge. The environment is not only a resource but a living archive: farming practices, harvest rituals, and the knowledge women pass down preserve culture as much as they sustain life. These narratives keep memory alive, practised daily, carried in stories, and felt across generations. When landscapes change, those practices
— and the wisdom they hold — are at risk. In Her Hands documents this fragile link, showing how the care women extend to the land is also the care they give to heritage, safeguarding both what is lived and what must be remembered.
In a world overflowing with images, what makes a photo feel timeless — something future generations might look at and feel?
A photograph that feels timeless often reflects the photographer’s mindful presence — that stillness or quiet reflection before clicking the shutter. Such images capture honesty, emotion, and universal human experience. Nothing in them feels trendy or accidental; every detail belongs. Even if future generations don’t know the place or context, they’ll recognise the truth in it, they’ll feel something that lasts.
For photographers who want to move past “pretty pictures” and really tell stories that honour heritage, what’s your best advice?
Put the camera down first. Heritage isn’t only in monuments or archives; it lives in daily rituals, gestures, and stories. Begin with research and patience. Talk, listen, and ask, “What matters to you?” not “What looks good?” Slow down and build trust. When you finally raise the camera, let dignity and authenticity guide the frame. That’s when images move beyond “pretty pictures” to become records of lived truth, carrying meaning that endures long after the moment has passed.
What cultural or artistic stories are still on your bucket list, and where do you see your journey going next?
I don’t want to give too much away just yet, but you can expect more stories from Africa and beyond — stories rooted in real people and real places, told with the intimacy of lived experience.
LOUD, BOLD, UNAPOLOGETIC
HOW CULTURE
BECAME NIGERIA’S BIGGEST EXPORT
Once, Nigeria’s identity was tied to oil — barrels, pipelines, and tank farms. It was the metric, it was the story. But oil, no matter how powerful, has nothing on the audacity of a people who live loudly. Today, what the world consumes from Nigeria isn’t crude, but culture: beats that shake stadiums, fabrics that shimmer across runways, films that crash Netflix servers, flavours that linger on foreign tongues, slang that slips into global playlists and timelines.
Culture is the new crude. And unlike oil, you can’t drill it, bottle it, or store it in a depot. It announces itself everywhere.
It’s the roar of 80,000 voices in London when Burna Boy steps on stage. It’s Tems, wrapped in elegance, lending her voice to an Oscar-winning soundtrack. It’s aso-ebi fabrics shimmering across Instagram before a bride even says “I do.” It’s a Surulere dance challenge escaping its street corner to reappear in Seoul. And it’s a young woman named Hilda Baci, apron tied tight, stirring her pots for 100 hours straight, turning egusi and puff-puff into global headlines. What the world calls “trend” or “entertainment” is, at its core, something more profound: the Nigerian spirit. A mix of resilience, flamboyance, humour, and ambition, lived so loudly that the world has no choice but to listen.
BY KONYE CHELSEA NWABOGOR
THE BEAT HEARD AROUND THE WORLD
If culture is the engine, music is the loudest horn. Afrobeats didn’t politely cross borders — it stormed through them like a Lagos danfo driver weaving through traffic.
From Burna Boy and Wizkid, who turn international concerts into carnivals, to Rema’s “Calm Down,” which clocks billions of streams, and Tems, whose voice found its way to the Grammys and Oscars, we don’t just make music; we export lifestyle. And that’s the truth. Afrobeats is more than a beat; it’s choreography, swagger, slang, drip. It’s the sound of Nigeria insisting on its place in the world. And music, by nature, leaks. It bleeds into TikTok dances, into Instagram slang, into the way kids in Paris or Toronto now say
“No wahala.” Afrobeats is the Trojan horse; inside it rides identity.
CINEMA WITHOUT PERMISSION
The screen is another massive frontier. Nollywood, once dismissed for shaky cameras and chaotic storylines, has become impossible to ignore. What critics called flaws, Nigerians called persistence. They filmed, hustled, and distributed on DVDs and now global streaming platforms. Today, Nollywood is no longer background noise; it has become global soft power. Funke Akindele, with her mix of humour and hustle, has built an empire that stretches way beyond the cinema. Kunle Afolayan brings prestige productions that can stand anywhere. For the first time, Nigerian films have become global conversation starters, reframing how Africa is seen and insisting that our stories belong in the world’s living rooms.
FACES THAT REFUSE TO HIDE
FASHION THAT SPEAKS
Walk into a Nigerian wedding and you’ll see it instantly: fashion isn’t just clothing here; it’s vocabulary. Aso-ebi shouts allegiance. Lace whispers heritage. Ankara boasts of its roots. Even the cut of a sleeve can say, “I’ve arrived.”
Now, the world is fluent. Designers like Lisa Folawiyo, Tubo, Banke Kuku, Emmy Kasbit, and Hertunba aren’t serving “African exotica.” They’re commanding luxury, unapologetically. Fashion weeks, such as Arise, GTCO, and Lagos Fashion Week, are permanent calendar fixtures. Buyers who once rolled their eyes now book flights.. Nigerian fashion thrives because it never asked for permission. It showed up dazzling, and the world had to lean closer.
THE TASTE OF SPECTACLE
CULTURE AS CAPITAL
Culture-driven tourism doesn’t end with December. There’s Art X Lagos, now a global art fair. Ojude Oba in Ijebu Ode, where horse riders in aso-oke parade for royalty. The Osun-Osogbo Festival, a spiritual carnival by the river. Design Week Lagos, a playground for architects and dreamers.
Digital creators beam it all further.
From Enioluwa’s charm to Taaooma’s skits, to Kiekie’s humour, Nigerian influencers have hacked global attention with nothing more than WiFi, wit, and ring lights.
BEYOND THE GLAMOUR
But culture isn’t only sequins and spotlight. It’s resilience, dressed up and exported. The Super Falcons remain Africa’s most decorated women’s football team. Asisat Oshoala, with her five Ballon d’Or nominations, is rewriting football history in Barcelona. Rena Wakama made history as the first woman to coach Nigeria’s basketball team — and promptly delivered AfroBasket gold. Victor Osimhen’s boots carried Napoli to Serie A glory. Then there’s Tunde Onakoya, turning a chess marathon in Times Square into activism, raising voices for children back home. Or Silas Adekunle, whose robots made global tech firms look twice. Or Lagos’s fintech start-ups, exporting apps, memes, and slang all at once.
DETTY
DECEMBER
And then there’s December. Once just a holiday season, now a phenomenon. Detty December has grown into a global pilgrimage. Flights booked months ahead. Lagos becomes one endless runway of sound, sequins, and sweat.
December isn’t just about nightlife anymore; it’s about the industry. It rivals Rio’s carnival, Ibiza’s summer, and Coachella’s desert glamour. Except this is Lagos — chaotic, dazzling, unfiltered. December is Nigeria’s cultural calling card, stamped with fireworks and basslines.
THE DIASPORA EFFECT
Of course, the diaspora amplifies it all. From Peckham to Houston, Nigerians abroad act as cultural megaphones. They open restaurants, throw watch parties, wear aso-ebi in Atlanta, and turn house parties into global movements. They don’t just consume Nigerian culture; they broadcast it. Diaspora communities are both audience and amplifier, ensuring that Nigeria’s cultural voice is never silenced.
Perhaps the most powerful export is the one that is not staged. Everyday life. The flamboyance of an owambe. The banter of Twitter NG. The reckless joy of a Lagos nightclub.
What happens on a Surulere street tonight could be tomorrow’s TikTok trend in New York.
A slang dropped on Twitter can find its way into London schoolyards. Nigerians don’t live culture quietly. They live it in surround sound.
WHAT THE FUTURE DEMANDS
But abundance doesn’t guarantee security. Nollywood stars are underpaid. Designers can’t scale without power supply. Musicians battle piracy. Beauty entrepreneurs struggle to finance growth. If this wave is to last, culture must be treated as industry. That means robust copyright laws, manufacturing hubs for fashion, financing for films, and culinary institutes to train the next generation of Hildas. And it means the
government, finally, recognising culture as the capital it is. Because, unlike oil, culture never runs out.
IN THE FUTURE
The world is learning what Nigerians have always known: culture here doesn’t ask, it declares. It doesn’t fade; it mutates. It doesn’t end; it expands. It keeps spilling, reshaping, and refusing to be contained. This is not a wave to ride until the next thing comes along. It is the thing. The current. The pulse. A living, breathing export that grows louder the more it travels.
OJUDE-OBA-FESTIVAL
MARIE CLAIRE
OSIMHEN
RENA WAKAMA ASISAT OSHOALA
SILAS ADEKUNLE TUNDE ONAKOYA
NIGERIAN FOOTBALL FANS
Nigerian weddings are not ceremonies; they are blockbusters. Think of them as a mix of Broadway theatre, red carpet fashion, and carnival energy—all rolled into one unforgettable day. Being a guest is not simply about showing up with a gift; it’s about playing your part in a cultural spectacle. From the aso-ebi hustle to the after-party, every moment carries its own drama, humour, and joy. To make it through—and actually enjoy yourself—you’ll need a good dose of skill, stamina, and strategy. Consider this your ultimate survival guide.
The Aso-Ebi Hustle
First comes the inevitable asoebi call. Once that WhatsApp broadcast drops, you need to make up your mind—quickly. Either commit to buying or politely decline and plan an alternative. Delay is dangerous because the best tailors in town are booked out months ahead. Miss the timing and you might find yourself in that dreaded “what ordered vs what got” scenario. The trick? Decide quickly, pay promptly, and secure your tailor early.
The Outfit Showdown
Forget subtlety—Nigerian weddings are runways. Sequins, lace, beads, and dramatic gele reign supreme, and everyone is out to impress. Guests treat their outfits with the same seriousness as the couple treats their vows. This is your chance to step up. If you can, book a professional makeup artist to get your look flawless. If not, YouTube tutorials will teach you how to tie a gele and beat your face like a pro. Remember, presentation is survival—the camera will find you.
The Arrival Time Illusion
If the invitation says 12 noon, resist the urge to leave your house at 11:30. Nigerian time is its own phenomenon. Programmes rarely begin as advertised, and showing up too early only means you’ll spend hours fanning yourself before the action even starts. A clever guest knows that arriving fashionably late isn’t about vanity—it’s about survival.
The Battle for Food
We all know the truth: food is half the reason anyone attends. Jollof rice, pounded yams, grilled fish, and the ever-elusive small chops are hot commodities. Be prepared to queue, hustle, or send a strategic “delegate” to the serving point on your behalf. Pro tip: make friends with a waiter or discreetly tip one. A little appreciation guarantees
your table gets served without unnecessary waving or stress. Nothing kills wedding joy faster than watching plates of food pass you by.
The Spray and Shine Moment
When the music hits and the couple dances in, the spraying begins. Naira notes rain down in a glittering spectacle of
love, wealth, and celebration. Even if you’re not joining in, get your phone ready—this is the Instagram moment. Spraying is not just tradition; it’s performance art, and everyone wants to be part of the scene.
The After-Party Shift
Just when you think you’ve survived the day, the afterparty kicks in. The aunties and
uncles bow out, gele is swapped for sneakers, and cocktails flow freely. The DJ takes the night from gospel to Afrobeats, and suddenly you’re on your third round of shaku-shaku. Remember: Nigerian weddings are marathons, not sprints. Pace yourself, hydrate, and know when to call it a night—because tomorrow, there might just be another one waiting.
Love, the most celebrated of human emotions, has always lived in tension with money. But in Nigeria today, where survival often feels like an Olympic sport and social media serves as a constant reminder of who is winning or losing at life, romance increasingly resembles a negotiation table. The question of whether love can exist without transaction has become one of the most uncomfortable and most revealing conversations of our time.
You only need to eavesdrop at a Lagos bar to hear it. A young banker, half-joking but wholly serious, declares: “Dating in this city is like a business pitch. If you don’t come correct, someone else will.” Across town, in a bridal shower game, someone repeats the now familiar mantra: “Love doesn’t pay bills.” The laughter that follows is edged with truth.
With inflation biting, jobs scarce, and ‘soft life’ now both an aspiration and a marker of self-worth, romance rarely floats free of financial undertones.
Of course, relationships in Nigeria have never been completely detached from economics. From bride price to courtship gifts, love has long carried elements of exchange. What feels different today is how explicit and how transactional it has all become. Social media amplifies it, turning private desires into public scorecards. A viral tweet that insisted any man serious about love should give his partner a ₦500,000 monthly allowance triggered outrage, but also struck a chord. Beneath the noise was an unspoken recognition: affection must now be materially rewarding to count as real.
CAN
walking away feels like losing economic stability.” For men, this translates into pressure and resentment. Romance begins to feel like a subscription service. For women, it is often a survival strategy that is also layered with social expectations. As one fashion entrepreneur in Abuja admitted, “Sometimes you want to believe in pure love. But if a man isn’t investing in you, you risk being taken for granted. Nigerian men respect what they spend on.”
The irony is that both sides are speaking to the same wound: a society where economics dictates everything, even intimacy. Yet to pretend money doesn’t matter in love is dishonest. Support, generosity, and shared financial planning are cornerstones of any committed relationship. The problem arises when affection is reduced to transactions, when romance is indistinguishable from sponsorship, when the value of a partner is measured solely by their ability to deliver lifestyle upgrades.
However, there are counter-narratives. They may not trend on Instagram, but they exist.
LOVE SURVIVE IN A HYPER-CAPITALIST WORLD?
This shift speaks less to greed than to the realities of a hyper-capitalist world. Nigerian romance operates within a landscape shaped by hustling, side gigs, and relentless display culture. Instagram timelines drip with curated couple holidays, dinners at new restaurants, and matching luxury cars, all under hashtags like #CoupleGoals. The subtle message is clear: if your love does not look like this, it may not be love at all. Psychologists warn that when financial worth becomes synonymous with emotional worth, the result is corrosive. “We’ve reached a dangerous point where money is equated with value in relationships,” says a Lagos-based psychologist. “Many people now stay in toxic partnerships not because of love, but because
Couples building from scratch, weathering storms together, and choosing each other even when the naira notes don’t stretch far enough. These stories remind us that love can survive, but it needs to be measured in a wider currency: time, attention, affirmation, and presence. Poet Titilope Sonuga captures it succinctly: “Romance will always involve giving, but giving should not be reduced to material things.”
For Nigerian lovers navigating this landscape, honesty becomes the ultimate survival tool. Clear conversations about expectations—financial or otherwise—help avoid resentment. Pretending to be indifferent to money is unrealistic, but surrendering entirely to its dominance risks hollowing love out until nothing remains. What works is balance: the recognition that a partner’s ability to provide can coexist with their capacity for kindness, laughter, and loyalty.
It is easy to dismiss all this as the triumph of materialism, but perhaps it is more accurate to see it as evidence of how deeply capitalism has reshaped our sense of self. Almost everything now carries a price tag, making romance the last arena where rebellion feels possible. Choosing someone not for what they can give, but for who they are, feels almost radical. Maybe that is what will save love in the end.
As one grandmother once put it with the kind of wisdom only years can sharpen: “Money will buy you bed sheets, but not sleep. It will buy you food, but not appetite. If you want lasting love, look beyond money.” And in a hyper-capitalist world, that reminder may be the only way love can truly endure.
INSTAWORTHY MUSEUMS WE’D TRAVEL FOR
Once upon a time, museums were hushed corridors and “no photography” signs. Now, they’re playgrounds for culture, design, and digital wonder — spaces where art, architecture, and spectacle meet. They’re not just places to learn; they’re places to live inside the art, even if only for the length of a photo. Whether it’s the Louvre in Paris or the JK Randle Centre in Lagos, these museums remind us that culture is alive, dynamic, and yes — extremely photogenic.
TeamLab Borderless, Tokyo
Imagine
Zeitz MOCAA, Cape Town
Africa’s most famous contemporary art museum is housed in a converted grain silo on Cape Town’s V&A Waterfront. Its honeycomb-carved atrium soars with drama, creating photo opportunities at every level. Pair that with world-class exhibitions of contemporary African art, and you have a space that is as visionary as it is Instagrammable.
Museum of Ice Cream, New York & Singapore
Call it candy for the camera. The Museum of Ice Cream is built for play, not silence — a pastel dreamland where you can swim in a pool of sprinkles, pose with oversized popsicles, and wander through bubblegumpink corridors. It’s sugar rush meets dopamine hit, and your followers will be begging to know where you found it.
National Museum of Qatar, Doha
Designed by Jean Nouvel, this museum resembles a desert rose crystal, with interlocking discs that jut dramatically into the skyline. By day, it casts sharp shadows against the sand; by night, it glows like a lantern. Inside, Qatar’s history is told through hightech installations, but the building itself is the star. It’s one of those places you circle again and again, hunting for that one angle no one else has captured.
The Great Egyptian Museum, Giza
Sitting in the shadow of the pyramids, the Great Egyptian Museum is where ancient meets ultramodern. Its vast glass walls and minimalist design frame treasures like the full Tutankhamun collection. Every photo here feels iconic — you’re not just documenting a visit, you’re brushing against thousands of years of history.
Nubuke Foundation, Accra
Minimalist, earthy, and intimate, Accra’s Nubuke Foundation is a favourite of Ghana’s creative scene. It’s not about grandeur; it’s about textures, murals, and installations that invite your camera to linger. The building itself, sleek against Ghana’s bright skies, is as striking as the rotating exhibitions inside.
JK Randle Centre for Yoruba Culture & History, Lagos
Paris or Doha. Its modern architecture, infused with Yoruba motifs, makes it a visual landmark. Inside, interactive exhibits celebrate Yoruba spirituality, music, and art in a way that’s both educational and stylish. For Nigerians, it’s not just Insta-worthy — it’s ours, a reminder that our heritage is as global as it is local.
Museum of Black Civilisations, Dakar Bold, bronze, and unapologetically African, Dakar’s Museum of Black Civilisations is one of the continent’s architectural showpieces. Its curved façade makes a statement before you even enter. Inside, exhibitions trace Africa’s cultural legacy across centuries and continents. This is a museum that’s both photogenic and powerful in its message.
The Louvre, Paris Paris without the Louvre is like
Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao Frank Gehry’s titanium masterpiece in Spain’s Basque country looks like it could take flight. Its shimmering panels catch the light differently with
