Recent Posts
Culture

THE MUSEUM OF THE AFRICAN MARKET: WHAT AFRICAN MARKETS REVEAL ABOUT INDIGENOUS CULTURE

Written by Dumebi Favour Ezekeke Modern V Traditional Definitions of the African Marke A market by modern standards, is simply a place where people gather to exchange goods and services. Or, that’s what the textbooks say. But long before economic theories gave it a narrow definition, Africans were already gathering in such places in ways that went far beyond trade. To many communities across the continent, a marketplace was not just a space, it was a living archive that told stories. A place where storytelling, bargaining and culture balanced on a single rhythm. The Igbos, in their bonfire stories, captured the essence of the African Market by describing it as a  place where the living and the dead crossed paths. But this spiritual and symbolic idea of the market wasn’t unique to the Igbo. Across indigenous African traditions, markets came with myths, taboos, rituals; stories that often-defied logic and linear time. Some of these markets have not only survived colonization and modern capitalism, they’ve expanded for generations. Like museums without walls. This article traces the paths of four of Africa’s most symbolic marketplaces and the stories they tell about the people who gather there. Jemaa el-Fnaa Market of Marrakesh Loosely translated to mean the ‘assembly of the dead’, the Jemma el-Fnaa market of Marakesh has existed since the 11th Century. Although, it has, over the centuries, taken on many forms. At the time of its establishment, it was regarded as a public execution ground, where rulers made an example of those who defied them. This initial form also gave the market its cryptic name. Over time, however, it shifted roles; from a site of justice to a mosque construction zone (which was never completed) and eventually the bustling marketplace that it is today. Or, as UNESCO describes it, a ‘Masterpiece of Oral Tradition and Intangible Heritage of Humanity’. As its form has changed over the centuries, so too have the indigenous cultures that trade and gather there. Today, Jemaa el-Fnaa sits at the crossroads of traditional heritage and urban life. During the day, it behaves like any open-air market; a vivid sprawl of food stalls, snake charmers, and vendors showcasing a rather large array of unique goods. You’ll find copperware stacked in shimmering towers, rows of spices arranged in earthen bowls, intricately designed ceramics, and metal plates that catch the sunlight. But when the night falls, the market changes its rhythm. It becomes a performance ground where storytelling, music, and food take the center stage. There’s also a raw kind of poetry in how the market glows under all the music, lantern lights and chatter of people from different tribes and walks of life. A large number of the vendors and performers who gather in the square have done so for generations. Chief among them are the Amazigh, or Berber, communities from the High Atlas Mountains and the Sous region. These tribes have a long history of trade in Marrakesh and they bring with them handcrafted rugs, silver jewelry, medicinal herbs, and oral stories passed down through languages like Tamazight and Tashelhit. You would also find the Gnawa people here. Historically regarded as descendants of enslaved West Africans brought into Morocco through the trans-Saharan trade, the Gnawa are known for their hypnotic musical traditions. Their performances, often held in circles, combine elements of Sufi spiritual practice and ancestral memory. They play the guembri; a three-stringed skin-covered lute. Alongside krakebs, which are metal castanets that produce sharp, rhythmic clanging sounds that echo deep into the square. Their ceremonies are less like concerts and more like spiritual awakenings; open, vibrant, and immersive. The market also hosts traders and craftsmen from rural Saharan communities like the Rahamna, who once served as horsemen and warriors. Today, their descendants continue to contribute to the vibrance of the market with woven goods, regional spices, dyed fabrics, and age-old oral traditions. Though quieter in presence, they remain keepers of cultural memory. Tourists from across Africa and the wider world are drawn to its chaos, colour, and character. But for the locals and indigenous cultures that show up every day, it is simply a regular day at a market square that has been with them for centuries. Djenné Market of Mali What we all know today as Mali is an ancient kingdom once known for many things, including its Djenne Market; a trade hub with a long memory. The market is not only recognised for its rich history, but also for the fact that it has opened, and continues to open, only on Mondays since the Middle Ages. The marketplace itself wraps around the city’s mosque and regularly receives traders, buyers and visitors from different indigenous groups including the Fulani herders, Bozo fishermen, Dogon farmers and Bambara herbalists who are known to mix herbs with spiritual elements to create remedies for different ailments. While the market today might appear like a regular one that simply happens on Mondays, the ground on which it stands carries a deeper history. Oral traditions say the original Djenne settlement, Djenne-Jeno, was abandoned around the year 1000 AD. The site was believed to be cursed — a place of flooding, tse tse flies, and restless spirits. When the new Djenne was founded nearby, it began with an animist ritual. A Bozo virgin was buried alive to appease the spirits and secure peace for the new town. Her tomb, known as Pama Kayamtao, is still believed to carry spiritual significance. Despite its long history, and the fact that it has been rebuilt, abandoned and rebuilt again, Monday still leads people back to the market. The space is arranged in sections. In one, you might find dried catfish and smoked eels from the Bozo piled high in woven baskets. On another end, Fulani farmers sell livestock and shea butter while Bambara herbalists lay out their roots, powders and leaves said to cure all kinds of ailments. Many believe these herbs are mixed with spiritual properties to make them more effective. If you look closely,

September 15, 2025
Culture

Senegalese Handicraft is Deeply Personal

The Soulful Art of Senegalese Handicrafts At the edge of Kaolack, where the midday sun sits heavy and unflinching, a circle of women hunch quietly beneath the shade of a neem tree. Their hands move with unthinking precision, coiling blades of dry grass, threading in stripes of plastic, shaping baskets that will travel far beyond this dusty square. A toddler toddles between them, weaving her own invisible path. A woman laughs, correcting her neighbor’s weave. It is a scene that could have played out years ago. But look closer, and you’ll see signs of change—mobile phones nestled beside bundles of ndiorokh, price negotiations happening over WhatsApp, plastic strips cut from imported rice sacks. This is Senegal’s craft. Craft as Culture and Crisis To understand Senegal is to understand its artisans. In this West African country bordered by ocean and desert, craftsmanship is more than a decoration. It is more cultural and personal. From the clay-rich villages of Casamance to the coastal ateliers of Saint-Louis, the entire nation hums with the rhythm of craft. Markets pulse like arteries, alive with motion and color. You don’t just shop in Senegal, you wander through living galleries, each stall a curated corner of someone’s world. When the wind blows through the open plains of Kaolack or the coastal alleys of Saint-Louis, it does more than stir the dust. It lifts the scent of dyed cotton, the hush of straw brushing straw, the low hum of chisels on wood and carries with it the stories of a people who have always shaped beauty from what their land offers. But these traditions now face questions that requires answers: How do you preserve what the world wants to commodify? How do you innovate without erasing? Who gets to decide what remains authentic? The Basket That Sings in Color Perhaps nowhere are these questions more visible than in the Afrikaanse wasmand, the tall, sculptural basket now sold in boutiques. In Senegal’s interior regions, it is still made the old way: coiled grass, co-operative women sitting in a loose circle, hours upon hours of labor. But the introduction of colored plastic, once a practical response to material scarcity, has become a visual signature. That plastic now makes the basket sell. But it also raises new tensions. Purists scoff, export buyers applaud, and rural weavers? They adapt. For many, the plastic strips are more than aesthetic. They are survival, allowing older women to compete with cheaper, factory-made imitations and support their families in a shifting economy. What gets lost in debates about design is what the basket means: not just income, but independence. For some women, it is the first time their work is being paid for in euros. For others, it is a way to stay on ancestral land rather than migrating to the city. The Loom as a Storyteller If the basket is Senegal’s most recognizable export, then tissus Thiès is perhaps its most sacred. In workshops around the city of Thiès, the steady click and pull of looms form a quiet symphony. These handwoven textiles are thick with cultural symbolism, often used in ceremonial garments, home décor, or gifted during important life moments. The process is rigorous. Cotton threads are dyed once with natural pigments from bark and soil, now sometimes with brighter synthetic colors, and strung onto looms in measured order. Weavers, often men with decades of experience, create geometric patterns with astonishing precision. Lines, squares, chevrons, each motif carries meaning. Some reflect ancestral lineage, others speak to community values or spiritual beliefs. In many Senegalese families, these patterns are known by name and associated with heritage. And yet, new life pulses here. Some young designers are incorporating tissus Thiès into streetwear or upcycled fashion. Diaspora Senegalese seek out these cloths for weddings and naming ceremonies. Woodwork and the Carvers of Saint-Louis Walk through the colonial city of Saint-Louis, and the scent of mahogany hangs in the air. In small workshops, away from the bustle of traffic, artisans lean over slabs of wood, chiseling, sanding, whispering into form. A carver’s workshop is a room with no roof with customers being split between local weddings and Instagram orders. And their fear? Children who won’t want to inherit their blades. In Saint-Louis, meanwhile, the scent of mahogany fills the air. Artisans here carve masks, stools, and walking sticks, some for rituals, some for tourists. The line between sacred and souvenir is thin. Many woodworkers walk it carefully to suit international tastes without betraying spiritual meaning. Some artisans blend Islamic motifs into their carvings—stars, arabesques, calligraphy—echoing Senegal’s religious plurality. Others say it’s like carving your own culture for someone else’s living room. Gourds Turned into Canvas The calabash, a dried gourd, is one of the oldest vessels known to African households. But in the hands of Senegalese women, it becomes an emblem. After harvesting and drying, the gourds are scraped smooth. The surface is then etched using knives or fine blades. Designs are not pre-drawn. They emerge concentric circles, waves, fish, birds, fertility symbols. Some are dyed with natural pigments or smoked to deepen their hue. Used as bowls, instruments, or ceremonial vessels, calabashes are passed from generation to generation. Beadwork and Metal Jewelry Jewelry is worn not simply to adorn but to express, protect, proclaim. Among the Fulani, large gold earrings curl like crescent moons, a sign of wealth and prestige. The Serer people craft beaded necklaces believed to hold spiritual power. Markets in Touba and Ziguinchor are dotted with brass-smiths hammering bangles over open flames, or silversmiths etching symbols into rings with practiced grace. Glass beads, some recycled from old trade stock, are strung into waist chains and layered necklaces each color carrying emotional weight. Jewelry is talisman. Craft Villages as Living Archives Across Senegal, villages artisanaux, craft villages, have been developed not only to support artisan livelihoods but to keep these traditions alive in an increasingly digital, fast-paced world. These villages are more than production sites. They are classrooms. Archives. Breathing museums where knowledge is

June 10, 2025
Culture

African Creative Stories ft. Badara Preira, a Photojournalist

AFRICAN CREATIVE SERIES What is your name and in which country do you live? My name is Badara Preira and I am a Senegalese photographer based between Senegal and France. 2-How did you start photography and how long have you been doing it? I’ve always loved photography, but it was a gift that changed everything. My Senegalese-Swedish cousin, on vacation in Dakar, noticed my enthusiasm for his camera and gave it to me. From then on, I began teaching myself, out of curiosity and a desire to understand. In 2015, after my Master’s degree, I decided to fully embrace photography. I’ve been living this professional adventure for ten years now, fueled by the same passion I had on the first day. 3-You document a lot of moments around Africans, especially in the religious domain — what influences your choice? What deeply motivates me to document African life, particularly that of Senegal, is the desire to show things as they are. My approach is resolutely documentary: I seek to capture what everyone sees, but few truly take the time to observe. These are often everyday scenes, seemingly ordinary, but imbued with meaning and beauty. My interest in religious moments stems from my personal history. I come from a practicing Muslim family, and these spaces of faith are places where I feel both spiritually and artistically connected. I find an energy, a sincerity, a humanity there that I need to translate into images. These are moments where the visible and the invisible intersect, and where photography takes on its full meaning, in my eyes. 4-What has been your best moment since the beginning of your career? I’ve experienced many beautiful moments in my career, but there is one that I cherish in my memory. It was during my exhibition in Morocco, during the 1-54 Art Fair. I was presenting some of my photographs there, and during the visits, an elderly woman stopped for a long time in front of one of my works. She remained there, silent, contemplating it for a good ten minutes. Intrigued, I approached to tell her the story behind this image. She then looked at me very gently and said: “You know, I’m almost 70 years old, I’ve traveled a lot, seen so many things… but I think I just experienced one of the most beautiful moments of my life, here, in front of you and your work.” It’s the kind of moment that gives meaning to what I do. 5-What is your favorite project so far, and why do you like it? As a freelance photographer, I choose to work on projects that speak deeply to me. One of the most memorable projects is my collaboration with the 2022 Olympic Games. Working with the Olympics had been a long-time dream, and this project exceeded all my expectations. The team trusted me by giving me carte blanche, which is rare and precious—they were already familiar with my work and wanted me to be able to express myself freely. This creative freedom, in such a prestigious setting, remains an unforgettable experience. Another project that is particularly close to my heart is an artistic series I titled Singularity. It’s a very personal project, in which I fully identify. It addresses the question of difference—our own, that of others—and invites reflection on self-acceptance and individuality. Through this series, I seek to raise awareness of how we view things that deviate from the norm, and to celebrate the uniqueness of each individual. 6-What are you looking forward to doing as a photojournalist? As a photojournalist, what drives me above all is the curiosity that each subject can arouse. I would love to experience being the personal photographer of the president or the presidency, to offer a different perspective—my own—on the corridors of power. 7-Who would you like to collaborate or work with one day? I would like to collaborate one day with renowned media outlets like Getty Images, The New York Times, or Reuters to take my photographic vision beyond borders and tell the world through a personal and engaged prism. 8-What advice would you give to someone who wants to get into photography but doesn’t know how to go about it? To someone who wants to get into photography but doesn’t know where to start, I would first say: put aside any doubts. If you have the means, a school can give you a good foundation, but you can also learn a lot through online tutorials. Finding a mentor is a real plus, but the most important thing is to start. Take your camera, explore, make mistakes, start again. Don’t be afraid to fail, and above all, avoid comparing yourself to others: everyone progresses at their own pace, on their own path. 9-Describe your journey so far in three words. Reconversion – Passion – Freedom

June 10, 2025
Beauty/Fashion

My Father’s Shadow: A New Dawn for African Cinema at Cannes

Cannes is the heartbeat of world cinema. For decades, it has been the place where stories are immortalized. Films that cross borders, challenge perceptions, and speak to the core of human experience have walked its red carpet, leaving their mark on global storytelling. This year, a new scene was written in the annals of cinema. My Father’s Shadow, directed by Akinola Davies Jr. and produced by Funmbi Ogunbanwo, became the first Nigerian film to be part of the Official Selection at Cannes, screening in the prestigious Un Certain Regard category. It’s not just a milestone, it’s a turning point for African cinema. The Prestige of Cannes The Cannes Film Festival is the world’s most prestigious gathering of filmmakers and dreamers. It’s where legends are born, where films like Pulp Fiction, Blue is the Warmest Color, and Parasite found their way to global recognition. It is about storytelling that matters. For African filmmakers, the road to Cannes has often been distant; glimpses of our stories flickering at the edges but rarely taking center stage. My Father’s Shadow changes the narrative. Funmbi Ogunbanwo: Telling Stories with Intention At the heart of this moment is Funmbi Ogunbanwo, who enjoys the process of something bigger than her. She has always been intentional about people and the stories she tells, choosing narratives that reflect the strength and complexity of Nigerian identity.  In her interview with Afrique Noire Magazine, she spoke passionately about the importance of storytelling from home. “Home is where impact is,” she said, calling on the African diaspora to remember that their voices matter, that their stories belong not just abroad but at home where change is rooted. Ogunbanwo’s vision goes beyond just making films. For too long, African stories have been boxed into tales of struggle and survival. She wants the world to see the richness, the ambition, the memory, and the resilience that define African life. With My Father’s Shadow, she proves that our stories can be global without losing their soul. The Story of My Father’s Shadow My Father’s Shadow is a poignant exploration of memory, identity, and the longing for connection. Inspired by the real-life experiences of Wale Davies and his brother, who lost their father at a young age, the film dives into the ache of growing up with questions that are never answered. Who was he? What did he believe in? What kind of man was he? These unspoken questions became the soul of the story. Davies imagined what it would be like to spend just one more day with their father, a single moment to bridge the distance that time and loss had created. The film is set against the backdrop of the 1993 Nigerian elections, a time marked by political tension and hope for change. This historical context is woven delicately into the narrative, reflecting how family-saga and political upheaval often walk hand in hand. Lagos, with its chaos and charm, is a living, breathing character that shapes the story. https://youtu.be/WoiVcFxcpak?si=W9g6LzEEcBrrZcOh A Landmark for African Cinema The significance of My Father’s Shadow at Cannes is monumental. It signals to the world that African stories are not only valid but necessary. It is a testament that Nigerian cinema has truly come of age—a sentiment echoed by Prince Baba Agba, cultural advisor to President Tinubu. It is a pivotal moment for African film. It signals to the world that African stories are necessary. For the African film landscape, this is validation. It is a moment that tells filmmakers across the continent that their stories are powerful enough to stand on the world’s most prestigious stage. It breaks barriers and sets a precedent, opening the path for more African voices to be heard. My Father’s Shadow is a beacon of possibility, a whisper to every storyteller on the continent that the world is ready to listen and that our stories are worthy of the brightest lights. Enjoy the full conversation here on YouTube & you can now listen here on Spotify YouTube Link  https://youtu.be/wFqHAZZJKqQ?si=RMJYxTxC40nJVkEh Spotify https://open.spotify.com/episode/7MLrtowHEXN9UU2k6ULI5h?si=745Fwd8tR0aBogHbrzBC8g Producer & Directors  https://www.instagram.com/akinoladaviesjr?igsh=azI5bXY4aWo2bzBj Akinola Davies Jr https://www.instagram.com/kingxdavies?igsh=NzRwMmgxMnU0bHBr Wale  Davies  https://www.instagram.com/funmbi_o?igsh=YzBqNDZpOWVmYm1p Funmbi Ogunbanwo For https://www.instagram.com/wearefatherland?igsh=MXZnOTBhaDJwbHB1cQ== Father Land 

May 19, 2025
Beauty/Fashion

The Red Crown: Himba Women’s Hair

What does it mean to wear your history in your hair? For the Himba women of northern Namibia, beauty is a language spoken in red ochre, passed from mother to daughter, and sculpted into every braid. In the dusty, sunburnt lands of northern Namibia, between rocky hills and winding rivers, live the Himba people, a semi-nomadic community known for their resilience, grace, and striking appearance. Among them, the Himba women stand out not just for their beauty, but for their proud display of tradition, carried on their skin, in their dress, and most famously, in their hair. The red-plated hair of the Himba women is a living symbol. A message written in earth, time, and memory. It tells a story of identity, pride, survival, and womanhood passed down from one generation to the next. Who Are the Himba? The Himba are an indigenous people of Namibia, mainly found in the Kunene region, near the Angolan border. They are pastoralists, which means they live closely with their livestock, especially cattle and goats. Their days are shaped by the rhythm of nature. They live in huts made from mud and dung, sleep under wide skies, and follow traditions that have stayed largely untouched for hundreds of years. But beyond geography and history, it is their visual expression, especially their hair that has come to symbolize their enduring strength. A Signature of Himba Womanhood What captures most people’s attention when they see the Himba women for the first time is their hair. Thick, red, sculpted locks that look like they’ve been shaped by fire and earth. These are not wigs or braids from a salon. These are carefully built hairstyles, coated in a rich red paste called otjize—a mixture of butterfat, red ochre (iron-rich stone ground into powder), and sometimes fragrant herbs or tree resins. The women apply otjize every day. It covers their hair and their entire bodies, giving their skin a warm, reddish glow. It protects them from the harsh sun, acts as a moisturizer in the dry desert climate, and keeps insects away. But its meaning goes far beyond physical use. The red color represents the earth, blood, and life itself. It is sacred. It is spiritual. Hair is not just hair to the Himba. It’s a marker of identity and a sign of where a woman is in her life. Himba hairstyles follow clear rules: 1.Young girls wear two plaits hanging forward over their faces, called ozondato. 2.Teenage girls start adding more braids and often begin applying otjize. 3.Married women wear thick, long, red-plated locks that fall over their shoulders, sometimes covering the face slightly. These are called ozondato as well, but in a more elaborate form. 4.Mothers wear a headpiece made of sheepskin called an erembe, which is attached to their braided hair. It’s a symbol of fertility and motherhood. 5.Elder women or widows may cover their heads or leave their hair natural, often signaling a different stage of life. Even the shape and number of braids have meaning. They show your social role, your family’s wealth, your marital status, and more. In Himba society, you can “read” a woman’s life story through her hairstyle. The Art of Maintenance: A Daily Ritual Keeping the hair beautiful and healthy is a daily ritual. Himba women don’t bathe with water in the Western sense, especially because water is scarce in their environment. Instead, they perform a kind of smoke bath. They burn special wood, often from aromatic trees, inside a clay pot, and once it produces enough smoke, they sit over it and let the smoke cleanse their skin and body. This is how they “bathe.” When it comes to their hair, the women take their time. They mix fresh otjize paste and gently coat their braids. Sometimes, other women help. It is an intimate, bonding experience; mother to daughter, sister to sister, elder to younger. It is a shared practice that keeps their traditions alive. Some of the braids are made using hair extensions from other women in the tribe, animal hair, or even woven wool. But the otjize paste always covers it all, binding it into a single, sculpted form. The Meaning Behind the Red To outsiders, the red hair might seem like just a bold fashion choice. But to the Himba, it means much more. The red ochre is tied to the idea of kaoko, a connection to the earth, to ancestors, and to the spirit of the land. The Himba believe in a spiritual life force that flows through everything: the cattle, the trees, the soil, and the human body. Covering themselves in red ochre is a way of aligning with this force. It’s a way of honoring life. Symbols of Cultural Resistance Today, Himba women are seen as symbols of cultural resistance. While much of the world pushes for modernization, assimilation, and change, they hold fast to their roots. They walk through dusty villages and open markets dressed in leather skirts, beaded necklaces, and bare chests unapologetically themselves. As the world rushes forward, the Himba women boldly remind us that our traditions are enough. That our way of being our skin, our hair, our rituals hold deep meaning. They remind us that African beauty is not borrowed, not bought. It is built, strand by strand, from memory, meaning, and the dust of home. This balance between tradition and modern life is difficult. It raises questions about choice, identity, and the future. But one thing remains: the red hair continues to speak.

May 16, 2025
Culture

They Took Our Art, But Not Our Genius: The African Artists Redefining the Global Stage

For centuries, Africa has been the world’s favorite muse. Its sculptures adorn European museums, its fabrics inspire haute couture, and its rhythms set the pulse of global music. Yet, for far too long, the world consumed African art without acknowledging African artists. They looted the masks but ignored the makers. They auctioned the bronze but erased the blacksmith. They sang our melodies but silenced our voices. Not anymore. From the bustling streets of Lagos to the art houses of Paris, from Accra’s design studios to Hollywood’s sound stages, a new wave of African artists is reclaiming the narrative. They are not just participating in the global cultural conversation; they are leading it. This is not about playing catch-up—it’s about setting the pace. The Renaissance is Black and Bold Walk into any contemporary art fair, and you’ll see it—works by African artists commanding center stage, not tucked away as an “ethnic” afterthought. Names like Amoako Boafo, Toyin Ojih Odutola, and Laetitia Ky are making the world take notice. Their art isn’t a postcard version of Africa wrapped in safari aesthetics. It’s bold, modern, unapologetic. It speaks of identity, resilience, and the complexities of being African in a world that once tried to define us without us. Take the rise of Afrobeats—no longer just a niche genre but a global cultural force. Artists like Burna Boy, Tems, and Rema aren’t merely exporting African sounds; they are dictating the sound of global pop. And it’s not just music—Nollywood is rewriting the rules of storytelling, with films like Aníkúlápó and The Black Book gaining international acclaim. These aren’t just success stories; they are statements: Africa is here, and Africa is thriving. Let’s talk about restitution—not just of stolen artifacts, but of respect. While Europe debates whether or not to return Africa’s looted art, African creatives have moved on to a bigger question: What happens after the return? The real power lies not in reclaiming what was taken, but in proving that African creativity never stopped. Institutions like the Zeitz MOCAA in Cape Town and the Museum of Black Civilizations in Dakar are ensuring that Africa curates its genius, rather than waiting for external validation. Meanwhile, digital art platforms and NFT marketplaces are empowering African artists to bypass traditional gatekeepers and sell their work directly to a global audience. Beyond Borders, Beyond Labels African artists today refuse to be boxed in. They are African, yes, but they are also universal. They are avant-garde, experimental, futuristic. Kenyan fashion designer Thebe Magugu doesn’t just make African clothes; he makes high fashion that happens to be African. The Sudanese model Adut Akech isn’t just a “black model”; she is a supermodel, period. This shift is not about asking for a seat at the table—it’s about building a new table altogether. Platforms like AfriNolly, Afrochella, and the Lagos Biennial are creating spaces where African art, music, and storytelling thrive on their own terms. And with social media as the new global gallery, African creatives no longer need permission to be seen. They show up, and the world watches. For decades, the global narrative framed Africa as “emerging.” But let’s be clear: Africa has emerged. It has always been here, creating, innovating, inspiring. The only thing that has changed is that the world is finally paying attention. So let them take the artifacts if they must. Let them debate over restitution. But they can never take the genius. Because Africa is not just the past—it is the present, and more importantly, it is the future. The world isn’t ready? Too bad. Africa isn’t waiting.

April 25, 2025
Beauty/Fashion

African Ancestors – The Fashion Trendsetters

Written by: Khadijah Yusuf Ali  For centuries, African ancestors have shaped global fashion. From jewelry to hairstyles and textiles, their influence is everywhere—even if the world doesn’t always recognize it.   Today, our ancestors’ styles continue to inspire modern fashion. Their attire, hairstyles, body marks, and jewelry inspire both the old and young across different continents, including Asia and Europe. We see how people try to recreate the way our emperors, elders, and indigenous people dressed. The world has adopted African culture and even turned it into trends. Non-Africans wear cornrows, tie-dye clothes have made their way into high fashion and streetwear, and knitted garments have become a staple among fashion enthusiasts. The stacking of jewelry—whether maximalist or minimalist—is now a global styling technique embraced across various fashion aesthetics, from boho and streetwear to old money and high fashion Celebrities and influencers like Tems, Bonang Matheba, and Aminata Mboup are heavily influenced by their African roots and are recognized for their bold and unique fashion styles. Cleopatra of Egypt Cleopatra, often described as stunning, wore exquisite garments of Egyptian heritage, including the kalasiris—a close-fitting sheath dress made of linen that left the chest bare. She often paired it with a gorgerine, a metal disc worn on the chest, among other embroidered robes. Cleopatra was also known for her elaborate accessorizing. She adorned herself with anklets, massive snake-shaped armbands, and bold bangles. Her beauty regimen included bright green paste under her eyes, blue on her eyelids, and black kohl eyeliner—techniques that continue to influence beauty trends today, with many dressing as Cleopatra for Halloween and other celebrations. The Kingdom of Kush The Kingdom of Kush has also played a significant role in modern fashion. Between 1780-1580 BC, Kushite women adorned themselves with beautiful beaded jewelry and used bronze mirrors. Wearing gold jewelry was a common practice. Princess Armenil Dis, who lived in the 8th century, wore exquisite gold rings, bracelets, and colorful beaded jewelry, some of which were made from ostrich eggshells. Queen Amanishakheto, always covered in gold jewelry, was an inspiration to women in her culture—queens, nobles, and commoners alike—who wore varying degrees of adornment. The contrast of gold against their deep brown skin enhanced its beauty. Kushite kings and men were also fashion-forward, wearing tight-fitting crowns—skullcaps made of leather or metal with the sacred serpent symbol. They accessorized with cord necklaces that draped over their shoulders and backs, while their leather sandals, sometimes dyed in green, red, or yellow, were stamped with snake-like patterns. West Africa’s Gold Adornments In West Africa, Adinkra symbols are used to craft gold jewelry among the Akan people of Ghana. These bold gold pieces take various shapes, like the mudfish, symbolizing nourishment and protection, often crafted into rings or necklaces. These traditional adornments have inspired both local and international fashion brands. Schiaparelli, known for its bold gold accessories, incorporates African influences into its designs, from bags to jewelry and even dresses. African designers, such as Adebisi Adedjouma, founder of ILE-IFE, continue to celebrate African heritage through jewelry. VANLELES-DIAMONDS ethically sources 75% of its precious stones and metals from Africa, further showcasing the continent’s influence in high-end jewelry. As demand for bolder fashion statements grows, Benin bronzed sculptures, historically used in art, have become statement jewelry pieces, with brands like TrufacebyGrace incorporating these influences into their collections. North African Beauty Practices In North Africa, the Berber people of Morocco wear a blue veil called the litham, dyed with the nila plant, which also treats skin conditions. Women rub the fabric on their faces when going out, leaving behind a blue residue that protects the skin from the sun—an early form of sun protection that has evolved into modern sunscreen. The nila plant was not the only one used in beauty. Henna, derived from its tree, was applied to hair and hands, a practice still widely embraced today. Kohl, used as black eyeliner, remains a staple in the beauty industry, influencing the popularity of smokey eyes and bold eye makeup trends. Henna remains integral to African culture, particularly among the Hausa of Northern Nigeria and Kushite women, where intricate designs are applied for celebrations such as Eid. Today, non-Africans have adopted it as temporary tattoos. Textiles and Patterns African textiles continue to influence fashion worldwide. Adire (tie-dye), originating from Ogun State, Nigeria, was first produced in Abeokuta by the Yoruba people in the early 20th century. It is crafted using hot wax to create patterns before being dyed with extracts from the elu plant. This traditional art has inspired designers globally. Nigerian-owned brand Dye Lab creates contemporary clothing and accessories, such as bags, using adire. Ade Bakare Couture in London also incorporates adire into eccentric designs. The widely popular ‘bubu’ outfit, indigenous to West Africa, Sudan, and other African regions, has evolved into the ‘rich auntie gown,’ a modern reinterpretation of a traditional style. Africa has always been a land of color, with its textiles, art, and culture embracing bold hues. While many societies favor muted tones like grey and black, African cultures celebrate vibrant colors like red, yellow, and green, made from natural sources such as henna (orange), mint (green), and saffron (yellow). Africa’s love for bold colors has undeniably influenced global fashion trends. Adinkra symbols are also prominent in textile designs, used to create cultural pieces that are transformed into clothing, bags, and more. Two-Piece Outfits and Skirt Styles The Yoruba women traditionally wore the Iro and Buba—a two-piece outfit consisting of a loose-fitting top and a wrapped skirt. Similarly, ancient Egyptians of the upper class wore the schenti, a knee-length kilt wrapped around the waist. These traditional garments can be seen as inspirations for modern two-piece outfits, including skirts that sit perfectly on the hips, often paired with crop tops. The Power of African Hairstyles Hairstyles in Africa are more than just beauty—they are a form of art, representation, and communication. Different tribes have distinct styles, each carrying deep cultural significance. From intricate braiding techniques to elaborate hair adornments, African hair has

March 5, 2025
Culture

The Journey of an Art Director & Creative Producer

On this month’s episode of African Creative Stories, we had an inspiring conversation with Piiiirre, a talented art director based in Canada. Enjoy! Kindly introduce yourself My name is piiiirre, I am originally from Senegal and I am currently based in Montreal, Canada What characteristic about yourself do you love the most? I love the way my mind clicks—how I see the world in new angles every time, and how I channel that into art to answer the big questions society throws at us. For those unfamiliar with art direction, how would you describe it? Creative direction is the thought process behind an idea, with the goal of bringing it to life in a creative way. It’s about envisioning what the idea should be, why it matters, and how to express it across different mediums. Creative direction spans across all fields, from business to music to sports and is the foundation for every project. Art direction, on the other hand, is the actual visual representation of that idea. The art director takes the concept imagined by the creative director and works to bring it to life—coordinating the production, from visuals to details. In my case, that means overseeing photoshoots, commercials, and events to make the vision a reality. Though they’re distinct roles, these two roles are intertwined, with the creative direction setting the vision and the art direction turning it into something people can see and experience. Walk us briefly through your journey—when did you start, what inspired you to pursue this path, and how did you know it was the right career for you? When I was 10, I started designing clothes and dancing. By 16, I created my first piece for a school show, despite not really knowing how to properly sew with a machine or create patterns. I was always the one coming up with ideas for events or parties I was planning, driven by a deep, natural creativity. Growing up, I’d take walks in Brussels, snapping pictures with my father’s camera, or style myself in unique ways. I’d perform in dance and theater shows in front of large crowds in Egypt, always feeding off that creative energy. When I moved to Montreal for my studies, I realized I wanted to try modeling for fun. I had been offered gigs before but always hesitated. Eventually, modeling turned more serious, and I started doing content creation, collaborating with brands to create visual content. As I gained more experience, I decided to produce my first photoshoot with myself as the model. That’s when I discovered my love for creative and art direction. It became clear that I was building my portfolio by working on projects for local brands and my own personal ventures, often leading a team in the process. I had no idea what I was doing had a name until I researched it. That’s when I realized I was an art director and creative producer. Everything inspires me—whether it’s people, quotes from my relatives, movies, books, fashion, or nature. But what really drives me is using creativity to explore and answer the societal questions that have always been on my mind. I think I knew I was on the right path when I wrapped up a 12-hour shoot. Instead of feeling drained, I was full of energy, motivated, and inspired to do more. I could have easily done another shoot the next day. I think it’s important to recognize whether your work drains you or pushes you to the next level. And that’s when I knew this was the career for me. Can you tell us about your favorite project? Why is it your favorite? The Teranga Yearbook is by far my favorite project. It’s a celebration of my country, Senegal, and an exploration of its rich cultures and diverse ethnicities. What I love most is using my art to teach people about cultures they might not have known about, and celebrating African excellence. This project takes a profound journey into the diversity of Senegalese ethnicities, showcasing their essence through the language of accessories, the eloquence of clothing, the artistry of makeup, and the powerful energy they radiate. It’s a personal and collective voyage—a reconnection to cultural roots. The project echoes the empowering anthem, “our roots, our land, never yielding,” a mantra of resilience and pride. The significance of the yearbook goes beyond its physical pages. It stands as a symbol of enlightenment, a vessel for wisdom that has the power to transform. True empowerment comes through understanding, and this project aims to shine a light on the beauty and strength of black African identity, offering a narrative of unity and resilience. Do you have any words of advice or encouragement for aspiring art directors and visual storytellers? Something I realized is to not wait for someone to come to you and give you a chance, you need to create your own chances and you need to be bold. And along the way, it’s crucial to understand your true intention behind your art. Is it about money? Fame? Recognition? Collaboration? Or is it the love of the craft, the passion, or even the desire to educate? Knowing your why will guide your journey and keep you grounded when things get tough. Thank you for joining us on this month’s episode of African Creative Stories Stay connected with Afrique Noire Magazine here on Instagram and join our fast growing community here on TikTok You can follow Piiiirre here and here on Instagram Watch out for March’s Edition.

February 17, 2025
Culture

​Holiday Traditions: A Regional Showcase Around the African Continent

Holiday traditions around central, west, eastern, and southern African take many diverse and unique forms. In Benin, the Igue Festival, is cited as having been celebrated for more than 1,000 years. This festival, begun by Oba Ewuare I, is celebrate by the Edo people of Benin. The symbolism of the celebration represents thanksgiving for blessings at the close of a favorable year, with participants giving thanks to the Creator. Igue is celebrated in the last weeks of December and is unique in that it is celebrated as a set of multiple ceremonies for 11 days. These ceremonies are Otue-Ugierhoba, Ugie-Erhoba, Iron, Otue-Iguoba, Igue-Inene, Emobo, Iguivioba, Igue-Edohia, and Ugieewere. The Igue Festival is celebrated with many artistic elements, such as dance, music and song, incantations, magic, recitals, and chants. Each day of celebration, the festival is foreshadowed by the presence of the royal jester, the Akharowan. This historical figure is often seen wearing a white cap with a handbag. The Igue Festival is a powerful statement of culture and tradition, not only due to the many years it has been celebrated, but also its historical significance. In previous historical periods, the festival was originally celebrated by the Oba and his subjects in the Benin Kingdom and continues in our contemporary moment. In South Africa, families come together to exchange gifts and hang stockings. At first glance, this Christmas tradition has much in common Christmas traditions in the U.S. What is unique, however, is the name given to Santa Claus, and the delicious foods eaten on Christmas day. Santa Clause is known as Sinterklaas or Kersvader in Afrikaans, and the foods prepared on Christmas Day may consist of roasted turkey, duck, beef with yellow rice and raisins, or vegetables. These foods are eaten along with savory desserts such as Malva pudding. If you celebrate Christmas, you can check out the different and interesting ways to say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year in Zulu, Xhosa, and Sotho! Zulu ‘UKhisimusi omuhle, uJabulela unyaka omusha’ Xhosa ‘Krismesi emnandi, Nyak’omtsha’ Sotho ‘Le be le keresemese e monate, Mahlohonolo a selemo se secha’ Similar to Christmas celebrations in South Africa, families in Namibia celebrate the holiday by preparing large feasts. These dinners contain meats such as beef, lamb, and game that is often cooked on the braai or barbecue. Desserts that can be found at Namibian Christmas dinners consist of melktert (milk tart), and koeksisters (syrupy twisted doughnuts). On Christmas day, many Namibian people attend church services, marking the spiritual significance of the holiday. It is also common for families to gather on this day for a special meal, often featuring the braai meat mentioned above. In the capital of Windhoek, the city is said to sparkle with sparkling lights and vibrant Christmas decorations. Uganda, like South Africa, has another word you can add to your Christmas vocabulary. In Uganda, Christmas is termed Sekukkulu, and is about people returning home to their families and communities. Returnees eat food, spend quality time together, enjoy music, and play games. Sekukkulu is celebrated on December 25th and is a large event. During Christmas, city authorities arrange for large trees to be like, and Christian choirs sing carols. If you happen to be visiting Uganda in December you can hear the carolers and people wishing each other Sekukkulu Enugi, which has a similar meaning to Merry Christmas. For our last country, we will showcase Ethiopia, which is distinct in its cultural traditions. Ledet or Genna, as Christmas is referred to in the county, is celebrated on January 7th on the Gregorian calendar. The holiday may also be celebrated on the 29th of Tahsas, on the Ethiopian calendar. Before Christmas Day, practitioners participate a 43-day fast known as Tsome Nebiyat, or the Fast of the Prophets. During Christmas festivities, a traditional thin, white cotton garment with brightly colored stripes, called a Netela, is worn. On Christmas Eve, or the gahad of Christmas, Ethiopian people may attend overnight mass, beginning around 6pm and ending at 3am. Together, the above countries illustrate diversity on the continent. Additionally, these traditions represent the diversity of holidays, and how they are celebrated. Written by Jasmine Hoeffner Research & Editorial Intern

January 2, 2025