This image is a minimalist allegory for our collective journey. The vast, turbulent sky, with its deep and moody clouds, represents the present moment—the storms of uncertainty and challenge we must all navigate. It is the beautiful, intimidating, and complex world as it is. The lone airplane is a symbol of human hope and resolve. It is small and solitary against the storm, yet its course is unwavering. It is the emissary of our ambition, a testament to our enduring need to seek what lies beyond the horizon. A new world is possible, and its promise is visible in the break in the clouds—the patch of clear sky that is the destination. This photograph is about that passage. It is a meditation on the courage it takes to fly through the storm, guided by the belief that a calmer, brighter world awaits.

Towards Clear Skies

At the Lagos State Secretariat Mosque, the morning hum pauses as worshippers gather and engines fall silent.

BLESS THIS DAY

Lagoon Front

That morning, I travelled from Ibadan to Sekona, Ede, for my friend’s newborn’s naming ceremony. On the way, I called to ask where he was, and they told me he was at the cow market, still searching for one to buy. He had just returned from Cotonou himself, tired but determined to make everything right for the day. When we finally met, we laughed, tired, honest laughter about how expensive everything has become in this country, yet how we still hold on to the small joys that keep us connected: a child’s birth, a shared meal, the sound of prayers, the rhythm of old traditions refusing to fade.  This image carries all of that, the weight and the warmth, the effort and the pause. His turned back, the attentive cow, the rough fencing. It speaks of the tenderness and burden of rural life, of people who keep going even when everything feels heavier than it used to. It’s a quiet moment that could be any morning, and every morning.

Where the Morning Ends

Reimagining the city I call home, Kano, Nigeria in noir. This is a shot of the main entry way of Emir's Palace in Kano, also known as Gidan Rumfa. Seen at the top are pinnacles known as 'Zankwaye', prolific throughout ancient Hausa architecture denoting status and prestige, without which a facade in historic times would've been described as a "bull without horns"

The Palace Gate

Behind the towering walls of an old Anglican church, a quiet graveyard rests. The stillness here feels sacred, heavy with memories and unspoken prayers. 

AFTER THE AMEN

The eye is heavy and clear when it considers this unpeopled scene in Zik Hall. The eye notices the minor filth and the desolation. The eye does not know whether to call this a natural world or a compromised world. The eye remembers it is in Nigeria and the weight has to be interpreted. So, the eye interprets. In a country hostile to its unprivileged children and peers and parents, the urge and necessity to leave this world behind is keen and growing. The eye intended for it to demonstrate a kind of apocalypse. The eye is equally aware that this place, this Nigeria is an apocalypse to many Nigerians. The eye has plenty to say. The eye has nothing more to say.

Leave This World Behind.

To the Ìṣẹ̀ṣe Devotee, ìlẹ̀kẹ̀ are powerful conduits of sacred energy and meaning. Beads like the Ide Ifa are believed to hold àṣẹ and connect wearers to ancestors (*Egungun*) and Orishas. To activate the protective and spiritual properties, Ide Ifa is often consecrated through specific rituals involving Ifa priests. Each Ọ̀rìṣà (deity) has its own colors and bead patterns. Wearing the beads of an Ọ̀rìṣà marks a devotee’s allegiance, initiation, or relationship with that force of nature. For example: white beads for Ọbàtálá (purity, clarity), red and white for Ṣàngó (fire, justice), green and red for Ògún (iron, war, technology), red and black for Esu, Blue and white for Yemoja; and yellow for Osun   Just as a compass guides a sailor through the vastness of the sea, ìlẹ̀kẹ̀ guides the believers in their spiritual journey. They serve as a constant reminder of the spiritual bond that ties them to the Ọ̀rìṣà.  It is believed that when a consecrated bead breaks it can be interpreted as a sign, indicating the need for spiritual consultation.   Today, we see people wearing beads purely for style. But for the devotees of Ifa, each strand represents faith, a piece of history, and a personal shield. Whether worn under clothes or boldly displayed on the necks of Priests, Priestess, and Orisa devotees, they’re a reminder: spirituality isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s a single bead against your skin, whispering where you come from and who walks with you

Beads And Amulets

Present-day Nigeria where there is inadequate empowerment for handwork

A Vision of a New Nigeria

On the surface this is a humanizing portrait of two teen boys fishing. The net hangs suspended in frame, not yet touching water, not yet knowing what it will catch or if it will catch anything at all. That suspension feels like Lagos itself,  always reaching, always hoping, never certain of the yield. And it feels like childhood in this city for so many: caught between what should be (play, school, protection) and what is (work, responsibility, survival).

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