Everything Good Will Come

Fodder questions the notion encapsulated in the Yoruba adage “Ko ma dabi ejo to koja lori apata ti ko nipa” which often sees children as long-term investments expected to yield profit in one way or the other; Fodder highlights how this innocent belief can also lead to dehumanising and harmful outcomes.

Back from School is a series that captures the moments of children returning home after school hours. It serves as a nostalgic reflection on the carefree nature of adolescence. This collection evokes memories of childhood, reminding us of the freedom we once enjoyed, devoid of responsibilities. Through these images, we journey back to our past, envisioning the innocence of our teenage years and contemplating the freedom that lies ahead in our lives and futures.

Do We Eat the Fruit without Thanking the Tree? exists solely as I do – in a continuous bid to pay homage to and revere my ancestors. In a brief where the focus is childhood, how does one speak of being a child without mention of the mother who birthed them? The photographs used to create this piece are the childhood photos of my mother and her siblings. To me, existence occurs somewhere in between a circle and a spiral. To speak of myself, I must speak of my mother, who must speak of her mother (my grandmother), my great grandmother, and so it goes on to the first matriarch. This piece, like all my work, highlights themes of Rememory (the process of returning to memories again and again, in such a way that they affect a person's processing of their present), rebirth and reincarnation.

Colourism (Still Black) is an exploration of the cultural hypocrisy, secrecy and nuance of colourism as a dark skinned girl growing up in Nigeria. What do you do when you are taught to hate your skin by people who look like you? Colourism is an identity crisis that this piece investigates.

Growing up I loved our month-long visits to my maternal grandparent’s house in Port Harcourt. We didn’t call it a family reunion but the six children and twenty-plus grandchildren that sprouted from this family tree lived together, ate together, fell asleep together, and played together, dancing in bellied laughter out in the compound till sundown. When I look at these photographs, I remember the taste of childlike wonder, the sweetness, the made-up games and stories we exchanged. The sounds of our feet running on dusty roads and the warmth of hugs and hands held. This joy, even when pain was around the corner, kept me afloat. These days I find ways to play, in solitude and among friends that feel like family, especially when things feel hard. As I satiate the needs of my younger self, tend to her desires, and preserve her spirit, I continue to heal.