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Some fundamental vitality was released among Nigerian practitioners in the years before independence. The hundred-year dominance of colonialism was coming to a close and the population of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were positioned for a new future in which they would shape the framework of their lives.

Those who best expressed that complex situation, that contradiction of contemporary life and heritage, were creators in all their varieties. Practitioners across the country, in constant exchange with one another, created works that evoked their traditions but in a contemporary 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 influence of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that congregated in Lagos and showcased all over the world, was deep. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its historical ways, but adapted to modern times. It was a new art, both introspective and festive. Often it was an art that suggested the many dimensions of Nigerian mythology; often it referenced daily realities.

Deities, ancestral presences, ceremonies, traditional displays featured prominently, alongside popular subjects of dancing figures, likenesses and vistas, but rendered in a distinctive light, with a palette that was completely different from anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Exchanges

It is essential to stress that these were not artists working in isolation. They were in touch 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 retrieval, a retrieval, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other domain in which this Nigerian modernism 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 portray a nation bubbling with energy and cultural tensions. 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.

Current Impact

Two important contemporary events bear this out. The much-awaited 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 well-known burning of African works of art by the British in that same city, in 1897.

The other is the forthcoming 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 essential part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who sojourned here during the Nigerian civil war and sculpted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, figures such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have molded the artistic and cultural life of these isles.

The heritage continues with artists such as El Anatsui, who has expanded the potential of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who alchemised Nigerian craft and modern design. They have prolonged the story of Nigerian modernism into the present day, bringing about a revitalization not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Creative Perspectives

Regarding Musical Originality

For me, Sade Adu is a excellent example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. She combined jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not imitating anyone, but creating a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it produces something fresh 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, inspiring 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 significant Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of specially produced work: colored glass, engravings, monumental installations. 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 impacted 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 seminal moment for me – it expressed a history that had influenced my life but was never spoken about.

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

Musical Political Expression

I loved finding Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in colorful costumes, and challenged authority. 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 soundtrack and a inspiration for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be boldly vocal and creative, something that feels even more important 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 coming home. Her concentration on family, domestic life and memory gave me the confidence to know that my own experiences were enough, and that I could build a career making work that is boldly personal.

I make representational art that investigate identity, memory and family, often referencing 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 methods to blend these experiences with my British identity, and that fusion became the language I use as an artist today.

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

Cultural Heritage

Nigerians are, essentially, driven individuals. I think that is why the diaspora is so productive in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a dedicated approach and a group that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our drive is based 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 influential in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to shared experiences 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 dual nature of my heritage influences what I find most important in my work, managing the different elements 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 realm where these effects and perspectives melt together.