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A certain fundamental force was released among Nigerian creatives in the years leading up to independence. The hundred-year reign of colonialism was nearing its end and the citizens of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and ebullient energy, were positioned for a different era in which they would shape the nature of their lives.

Those who best expressed that complex situation, that paradox of contemporary life and heritage, were artists in all their forms. Creatives across the country, in continuous conversation with one another, created works that recalled their traditions but in a contemporary setting. 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 reinventing the concept of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that congregated in Lagos and exhibited all over the world, was deep. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its traditional ways, but adjusted to modern times. It was a fresh artistic expression, both brooding and celebratory. Often it was an art that hinted at the many aspects of Nigerian legend; often it incorporated daily realities.

Ancestral beings, ancestral presences, ceremonies, cultural performances featured prominently, alongside popular subjects of rhythmic shapes, portraits and scenes, but executed in a distinctive light, with a color scheme that was utterly different from anything in the western tradition.

Worldwide Influences

It is important to emphasize that these were not artists producing in seclusion. They were in touch with the movements of world art, as can be seen by the approaches to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a response as such but a taking back, a recovery, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian modernism revealed 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 opposite is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Contemporary Influence

Two significant 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 most crucial 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 upcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to spotlight Nigeria's contribution to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian writers and creatives in Britain have been a crucial part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who sojourned here during the Nigerian civil war and created Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, figures such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have molded the visual and intellectual life of these isles.

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

Creative Perspectives

About Musical Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a excellent example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She combined jazz, soul and pop into something that was distinctively personal, not imitating anyone, but developing a new sound. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it creates something fresh out of history.

I was raised 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 compelling, 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 important Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of specially produced work: stained glass, carvings, monumental installations. It was a influential experience, showing me that art could narrate the history of a nation.

Written 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 affected 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 molded 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 looked for representation wherever we could.

Musical Social Commentary

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed bare-chested, in dynamic 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 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 unapologetically expressive and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Modern 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 emphasis on family, domestic life and memory gave me the certainty to know that my own experiences were adequate, and that I could build a career making work that is unapologetically personal.

I make figurative paintings that investigate identity, memory and family, often drawing on my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with exploring history – at family photographs, Nigerian parties, rich fabrics – and converting those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the tools to combine these experiences with my British identity, and that blending became the expression 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 substantially. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young overseas artists finding their voices.

Cultural Heritage

Nigerians are, basically, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a strong work ethic and a network that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our ambition is grounded 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 influential in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to shared experiences while remaining strongly connected in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how exploration within tradition can produce new forms of expression.

The twofold aspect of my heritage informs 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 priorities and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these effects and viewpoints melt together.