Born in Nigeria but currently a resident in the United States, as a photographer, Obinna Obioma’s Nigerian experiences and heritage never eluded him. This forms the basis for his latest collaborative photo series, ŃÁÍJÀ, which hones in on the country’s youth and their fraught experiences, examining the crumbling social, economic and political presence of his home country. On some occasions, the images re-enact the happenings of what caused the historic End SARS protest [series of mass protests against police brutality in Nigeria that began in 2017] – members of the police force holding young Nigerians at gunpoint – on others, it shows Nigerian youth standing in long queues to get petrol, or at the airport, moving to a seemingly safer country in search of a new beginning. “There’s such an imbalance in the system, and it’s ridiculous,” Obioma tells us, “ŃÁÍJÀ is not just a fashion work, but is more of a conceptual art narrative which through photography and video, discusses what’s currently going on in Nigeria.”

Created in response to the incredibly important Nigerian presidential election next year, these images are an ode to the Nigerian youth making their voices heard as they continue to battle for the barest minimum: fair wage, security and an end to bombings, killings, corruption and bribery.

Elvis Kachi: Before we discuss the photo series, how would you describe your work?
Obinna Obioma: My work centres around individuality and identity, around conceptual art usually interfused with my African heritage. With my works, I didn’t want to tell stories that I could see online all the time, the western Eurocentric narrative, I wanted to tell photography from my own understanding as a Black man who’s lived in the US and England. I have a mixed background but still understand what it means to be African. So, how can that African narrative be told in the western world? I guess that’s where my style was born from.

EK: And onto the ŃÁÍJÀ series, how would you describe this body of work?
OO: ŃÁÍJÀ is a conceptual fashion and art collaboration with my friend David Ogujiuba. We used photography and video to highlight some of the socio-political and economic conditions that are affecting Nigeria. It is a reflection of the reality of Nigerians, and we used it as the vehicle to tell the narrative. We are the future of the country, but because of what’s currently happening, we’re scared there might be no future for us. There’s such an imbalance in the system, and it’s ridiculous. ŃÁÍJÀ is not just a fashion work, but is more of a conceptual art narrative told through photography and video.

EK: How did you conceive it and why was it important to create?
OO:I have a lot of friends back home, and I go back often. Every single experience and topic I talked about in this series, we’ve lived it. I have been that person at the party, dancing, and the electricity went off. I have been that person carrying jerrycans, scouring the Nigerian city, hustling for petrol. My friends and older siblings have experienced the ASUU [Academic Staff Union of Universities] strike. The strike is literally going on right now.

In fact, if you zoom into one of the photographs that depict the ASUU, you’ll find it’s an original copy of what the university body is demanding from the government. The things I talk about are literally the bare minimum. I was in the car coming from a job at 10pm, and I was stopped by SARS [Special Anti-Robbery Squad]. A gun was cocked to my face, forcing me to open my truck. I’ve seen and experienced it. Really, the conception of this story was just watching the news from here [the US] and seeing what was going on back home. I felt a moral obligation to tell the story.

“We are the future of the country, but because of what’s currently happening, we’re scared there might be no future for us.”

“I have been that person carrying jerrycans, scouring the Nigerian city, hustling for petrol.”

EK: How would you respond to criticism of this work from creatives in Nigeria who might argue that you are unable to properly tell their realities?
OO: That’s honestly a fair fight, and it’s called ‘pandering’. Each to their own when it comes to who should tell these stories, but I literally grew up in Nigeria and had these experiences. I did my NYSC [a compulsory one-year service for all Nigerian graduates] there, too. I go back every year since I moved, and I know my way around. I might live here, circumstantially, but Nigeria is home. I honestly love my country and talk about it all the time.

EK: What has the reception of this project been?
OO: It’s been received very well. I believe art should not only inspire but also offend. When art just inspires, then what is it really doing? If we’re all agreeing, then what’s the point? Overall, I think it had a good reception, especially with the youths, who I think were our truest target and audience. They were able to relate to the pictures and videos. They could see themselves in the project, which was the goal.

I wanted it to spark discourse, to make people sit and think. I just mentioned about six or seven topics within this body of work, but there’re so many more. There are a lot of things going on, but we just mentioned the really visible ones. There are the underlying archers of tribalism, nepotism, killings, bombings and so much more.

I wanted to spark a conversation among the youth. We need to decide for ourselves [which direction] we want the country to go, and we have the power to do that. I needed them to understand that we can change the narrative of what Nigeria is, and what it can be. That’s what I wanted, discourse.

CREDITS
Photography, art direction and set design by Obinna Obioma
Director of video, post-edits, special effects and sound design by Davidson Ogujiuba
Director of Photography: Lillian Djuane
Make-up by Morgan Everson
Costume and wardrobe styling by Wuraola Oladapo
Hair by Abiodun Adegawa
Models: Shannica Ewart, Elijah Calloway, Sebastian Duncan, Romel Gaddy, Gabrielle O’Connor
Digital tech by Shawn Caldeira
Photo assistants: Sebastian Duncan Romel Gaddy
Video voiceover by Wale and Onyinkansola