This photograph captures the barrier between two famous rival hostels, Zik and Indy. At first glance, it is just a gate black iron, yellow pillars, and barbed wire separating two plots of land. But this gate is a powerful symbol of the relationship between its two neighbors. These hostels are rivals, their animosity fueled by their shared identity rather than their differences. The gate itself is the proof. It connects them, a single, shared boundary that brings them together even as it pushes them apart. Yet, it is also the very thing that keeps them divided, a permanent line fortified with barbed wire, turning their similarities into a source of division and conflict. It stands as a monument to both their connection and their fierce animosity.

The rivalry Gate

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

Framed by the gentle shadows of overhanging trees, a group of children navigate their wooden canoe across the calm waters of the lagoon. The distant bridge stands as a quiet reminder of the city beyond, while their world drifts in simplicity and silence.

CHILDREN OF THE LAGOON

A colorful allure matching the vibrance of colors with the life of spring time. 

Spring Maiden

Captured on a sunny day, between a destination of hope and the demands of necessity. This image echoes the quiet resilience of many Nigerians, finding strength in struggle, and hope in motion, as they journey toward a better future.

Hope in the Trunk of Necessity

This photograph is of a random car wash on my school campus. It’s a place I’ve passed countless times, tucked away and never in plain sight. I've often seen it empty, wondering if it ever even gets customers. It was just a part of the background, easily ignored. But on this faithful day, I saw it differently. The sunlight caught the warm yellow paint of the building, and the car was nestled in this wild, vibrant greenery that seemed to be reclaiming the space. It was no longer just an empty lot; it felt like discovering a secret.

The Hidden car wash 

Egbiameje Omole performs Pankere in Glitter, a work confronting the traumatic and emotional stakes faced by non-binary and queer people in Nigeria under hostile legal and social regimes. In Yoruba, pankere refers to the cane once used by guarantors to discipline children, a symbol of the violence and regulation imposed on queer bodies from childhood through adulthood. Omole’s performance reclaims this memory, transforming it into a spectacle of resilience. By drawing on the legacy of cross-dressing and queer icons of the past, the work resists erasure and insists on presence. Captured on a mist-covered hill, their red, glittering outfit vibrates against the muted landscape. The movement appears frantic, almost ritualistic, an act of defiance against invisibility, a demand for recognition. This image embodies the weight of law on queer lives in Nigeria while celebrating the persistence of joy, survival, and visibility against the forces that seek to constrain them.

In Glitter V 

The priest and the redlight Somewhere in Ibadan, this photograph plunges the viewer into a sanctuary,an underground rave scene saturated in a spiritual red light. This is a site of metamorphosis. Here, the PRIEST is captured in the very act of shedding his skin. He no longer hides; he is free, basking in the shimmering, baptismal glow that shields him from the prying eyes of the hunters. This is a moment of pure, unadulterated self-expression. He now performs only for himself. It is a profound act of reclaiming his identity, a powerful declaration of artistic sovereignty. He owes the society NOTHING.

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