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A certain fundamental vitality was set free among Nigerian practitioners in the years preceding independence. The century-long dominance of colonialism was nearing its end and the people of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were ready for a different era in which they would shape the framework of their lives.

Those who most articulated that dual stance, that tension of contemporary life and tradition, were creators in all their varieties. Creatives across the country, in continuous dialogue with one another, created works that referenced their traditions but in a contemporary context. 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 remaking the concept of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that assembled in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was deep. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its traditional ways, but modified to the present day. It was a innovative creative form, both contemplative and festive. Often it was an art that alluded to the many facets of Nigerian folklore; often it incorporated everyday life.

Deities, traditional entities, rituals, traditional displays featured centrally, alongside frequent subjects of moving forms, likenesses and scenes, but executed in a distinctive light, with a color scheme that was totally distinct from anything in the western tradition.

Global Influences

It is essential to stress 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 answer as such but a reclaiming, a recovery, of what cubism borrowed from Africa.

The other domain in which this Nigerian modernism manifested itself is in the Nigerian novel. Works such as Chinua Achebe's influential 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 identity struggles. 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 long-anticipated opening of the art museum in the traditional capital 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 highlight Nigeria's role to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian writers and creatives in Britain have been a essential part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who sojourned here during the Nigerian civil war and crafted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, figures such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have shaped the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

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

Creative Insights

Regarding Artistic Originality

For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. She fused jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not replicating 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 regular visits to Lagos's National Museum, which is where I first saw Ben Enwonwu's sculpture Anyanwu. It was impactful, inspiring and strongly linked to Nigerian identity, and left a lasting impression 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, sculptures, impressive creations. It was a influential experience, showing me that art could tell the story of a nation.

Literary Impact

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 affected my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a seminal moment for me – it gave voice to 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 make fun of the idea of Nigerian or African art. We pursued representation wherever we could.

Artistic Activism

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

Current Expressions

The artist who has motivated 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 representational art that explore identity, memory and family, often using my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with exploring history – 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 combine these experiences with my British identity, and that combination 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 substantially. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young overseas artists finding their voices.

Artistic Legacy

Nigerians are, fundamentally, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a committed attitude and a community that backs one another. Being in the UK has given more access, but our drive is based 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 duality of my heritage shapes what I find most urgent in my work, negotiating the multiple aspects of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different concerns and interests into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these impacts and viewpoints melt together.