Storytelling :

This project is deeply rooted in research, with storytelling as its core focus. Growing up in a culturally rich yet dynamically evolving Nigerian family, I see my own story as one marked by depth and layers, with a unique blend of culture and traditions. I am particularly interested in exploring my childhood memories: the fears I had growing up and my evolving sense of connection to my heritage. The primary aim of this project is to create a cohesive body of work that captures and communicates aspects of my identity and personal story, emphasising the nuances of spiritual displacement and growth. Through both primary and secondary visual research, I examine how other art forms integrate storytelling, identity, and personal history, often with figurative and symbolic expressions that resonate with their cultural heritage. This exploration not only shapes my creative decisions but also pushes me to consider new ways to approach ceramics as a powerful medium for storytelling. Having not returned to Nigeria since I was twelve, I found that many of my early memories felt frozen in time, hazy and vague, shaped by the perspective of a child. This fragmented recollection pushed me to confront what I remembered and to deepen my understanding through archives. This process brought a sense of urgency and curiosity to my work, ultimately leading me to make the significant decision to return home to Nigeria. There, I hoped to immerse myself further in the cultural and spiritual traditions that inspire my work.

In this project, I am exploring fear and how the lessons we absorb in childhood shape our mental and emotional growth. Many of these fears linger, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. My upbringing was heavily shaped by religion, particularly Christianity, as I grew up with my mother and maternal grandmother a devout Evangelist. Sundays were dedicated to church, where I was taught about God, sin, heaven, hell, and the devil. I was taught that other belief systems particularly traditional African practices were sinful, which created an internal conflict that I still grapple with today.

These teachings instilled a mix of reverence and fear in me as a child. I believed every mistake could condemn me to hell. As I grew older and we moved to the UK, our church attendance waned, which left me questioning the role of religion in our lives. Though I still considered myself a Christian at the start of third year, I found myself increasingly sceptical of institutionalised religion and the fear-based rhetoric often used to instil belief. One memory that stands out is a visit to a family friend’s house when I was a child. The moment she saw a cat, she erupted into frantic prayers, desperately casting it away in the name of Jesus. That experience left a lasting imprint on me, despite knowing rationally that cats pose no threat, I can’t shake the fear that was so intensely projected onto me. It spread through me like an infection, taking hold in ways I couldn’t control. Even now, I find myself instinctively unsettled by their presence, a reminder of how deeply ingrained fears can shape our perceptions and reactions.

My understanding of spirituality also began to expand as I became more aware of how Christianity was introduced to West Africa through colonialism, often as a tool of control. My paternal grandmother, a spiritual woman who practised traditional African spirituality, had a shrine in her home filled with symbolic objects for prayers and rituals. Growing up, I was afraid of these practices due to Christian teachings that framed them as sinful, but as I learned more about the demonisation of African spiritual traditions, I started to see the richness and complexity of these rituals.