Art x Adẹ

Tomorrow, the 15th of June, and on the same day each year, my community celebrates the arrival of the New Yam. It is a special day when the first harvest of the new yam is officially presented to and eaten by the traditional ruler of our community. It is a day of thanksgiving and a celebration of the harvest that comes after twelve months of hard work, dedication, and sacrifice by our farmers. The traditional name of the New Yam is “Ẹmindin.” When a tuber of the new yam arrives in a home, everyone present touches the yam with a finger and, with that same finger, touches their chest and says: “Ẹmindin mo ri wọ me tu ku.” This translates to: “New Yam, I have seen you; I will not die.” This beautiful tradition expresses gratitude, hope, and the joy of welcoming a new season of abundance. This painting is my tribute to the hardworking men and women who, despite the many challenges they face, continue to labour tirelessly to ensure that food is placed on the tables of their fami...

There was a time when fear ruled my voice. It was not the fear arising from ignorance. It was not the fear from lack of knowledge. Ironically, my greatest burden was knowing too much and saying too little. For years, I carried within me a vast body of thoughts, of experiences, of questions, and of convictions about life, about humanity, about politics, about justice, about suffering and pain, about faith, about culture, and above all, about the complicated beauty of the human race and existence. In private conversations, words flowed naturally. Ideas connected effortlessly and seamlessly. But the moment an audience appeared, something invisible tightened around my mind and imprisoned my voice. Fear is a strange kind of philosopher. It does not always scream. It sometimes  whispers asking dangerous questions such as: “What if I fail?” “What if I forget my words?” “What if they judge me?” “What if my voice trembles?” “What if I am not enough?” What makes fear powerful is ...