Written by Oluwakemi Adedoyin There is a rhythm to the way we create.   The steady tap of a tailor’s shears slicing through Ankara. The hum of a loom as Malian indigo-dyed cotton is pulled tight, the weaver’s fingers moving like a prayer. The quiet breath of a sculptor in Ghana, coaxing form from wood, whispering to it as he carves. Across Africa, creation is not just about making things—it is about making meaning. It is a lineage, a way of saying, we were here, we are here, we will always be here. Afrique Noire Magazine is an archive of this rhythm, this knowing. It does not seek to convince the world that Africa belongs in the global creative conversation. It simply shows the truth: we have always been the foundation of it. We Carry What Came Before Turn the pages, and you will see that our past is not behind us. It moves with us. It threads itself through Hertunba’s upcycled garments, stitched from fabric that once belonged to another life. It dances in the beadwork of Mairachamp, where every color choice is a coded message. It echoes in the bold architecture of Jomo Furniture’s designs, which draw from centuries of African form and philosophy.   For too long, African creativity has been framed as something new, as if we are just now stepping into innovation. But this issue reminds us that we are not reinventing; we are continuing. We are taking the work of our grandmothers and great-grandmothers—the weavers, the beadmakers, the poets who wrapped warnings inside verse—and remaking it in our own way. Even as we move forward, we carry them with us. The Future is Woven by Women If there is a pulse running through this issue, it is the work of African women.   Women like Margret Chola, Zambia’s Legendary Glamma, who turns age into an aesthetic, proving that beauty does not retire. Or like Tina Bakudisa Maliku, whose work on the runway is not just about wearing clothes—it is about wearing defiance, wearing home. And then there is hair.   For centuries, our hair has been a site of rebellion and remembrance, a place where culture was braided and coiled into something too intricate to be erased. Yet, for generations, African hair was told to be smaller, to be straighter, to take up less space.   Now, across the continent, hair is reclaiming its voice. It is being stacked into architectural shapes that tell stories. It is being adorned with cowries and beads that whisper of ancestry. It is becoming the centerpiece of fashion campaigns, no longer treated as an afterthought. Hair is not just hair. It is art. The Hands That Shape Tomorrow It is easy to talk about Africa in abstractions—potential, possibility, promise. But the creatives in this issue refuse to exist as an idea of what Africa could be.   Right now, Ethiopian girls are skating through the streets of Addis Ababa, rewriting the rules of belonging. Right now, Senegalese photographers are capturing portraits that exist at the intersection of past and prophecy. Right now, Moroccan designers are blending ancient embroidery techniques with avant-garde silhouettes, proving that fashion is not just what we wear; it is what we remember.   And right now, in the quiet of a workshop, somewhere between fabric and needle, an artisan is making something that will be worn and passed down.   Something shaped by the hands that came before. Something waiting for the hands that will come after. What We Build is Ours African creativity has spent too long being extracted, repackaged, and sold back to us as a trend. Our prints, our textiles, our hairstyles have traveled the world, stripped of their origins, with no credit given to the hands that made them.   But here, in these pages, there is no extraction. No dilution.   This is an issue of full credit. Of full ownership. Of full agency.   It is not about asking for a seat at someone else’s table. It is about reminding the world that the table itself was carved from our wood, built by our hands, polished by our labor. And if it no longer serves us? We will make a new one. Because that is what we do. We make. We shape. We create.  And we always have. Launching This Sunday, April 13. Join the waitlist here for early access

Fashion in Africa is experiencing a remarkable evolution, led by visionaries who are not only redefining style but also celebrating cultural roots. Among these trailblazers is Florentina Agu, the dynamic founder of Hertunba. Her journey blends deep respect for indigenous craftsmanship with a fresh, modern approach, creating a unique narrative that captivates audiences both locally and globally. During a sit-down conversation with our CEO and founder, Isha Gaye, Florentina shared her unwavering commitment to sustainability, the crucial role local artisans play in her work, and her ambitious vision for a future where fashion honors both tradition and innovation. Her insights reflect a deep understanding of the impact of fashion on culture and the environment, highlighting the importance of preserving heritage while embracing modernity. About Florentina’s Journey Florentina’s journey into the world of fashion was not an accident; it was a calling. Growing up in a Nigerian household, she was deeply influenced by the artistic expressions surrounding her. She fondly recalls, “As a child, I would watch my grandmother weave intricate designs, and that memory is still alive in my mind.” Her grandmother’s artistry laid the foundation for Florentina’s appreciation of traditional craftsmanship, which she later aimed to elevate through her own work. While pursuing her education at the University of Lagos, Florentina was struck by the stark contrast of beauty and struggle in her surroundings. “There were moments when I would see gas flares in the distance, and it would remind me of the duality of our existence—beauty intertwined with hardship,” she reflects. This juxtaposition fueled her desire to create a fashion brand that not only celebrated the aesthetic beauty of Nigeria but also addressed the social issues facing her community. Sustainability: More than just a trend In recent years, sustainability has become a prominent buzzword in the fashion industry, often used without genuine commitment, but for Florentina, it is a necessity driven by her cultural context. “We are often left with a surplus of textiles dumped in our communities. It’s a question of what to do with it—do we contribute to pollution, or do we upcycle?” This dilemma led to her commitment to upcycling, a practice ingrained in many African households where resourcefulness is key. “Wearing a dress in my family means passing it down,” she explains. “I have three younger sisters and ten younger cousins who are all waiting for my clothes.” This spirit of upcycling, she believes, is not just about aesthetics; it’s about preserving the environment and creating a sustainable cycle of fashion. While exploring natural fibers remains important, Florentina insists, “We cannot be elitist about the fabrics that have been dumped on us. We have to make something beautiful out of what we have.” A cornerstone of Hertunba’s philosophy is the empowerment of local artisans. Florentina emphasizes, “Creativity in Africa is not a choice; it’s a matter of survival. People need to eat.” Ensuring fair compensation for artisans is paramount to her mission. “If an artisan charges me $100 to create a piece, I pay them that amount without negotiation.” Florentina’s commitment to fair wages extends to her in-house tailors, who receive a commission based on the outfits they create. “Last month, one of my tailors bought land,” she shares, a proud testament to how fair pay can have a profound impact on lives. For Florentina, the goal is to bring prestige back to craftsmanship, making the profession attractive to the younger generation. “I want people to say, ‘I want to be a tailor,’” she asserts. Tale as old as time As Hertunba flourishes, Florentina envisions a future where indigenous Nigerian weaving techniques are respected and celebrated on the global stage. “We are on the same level as renowned textile makers from around the world,” she asserts confidently. With a keen eye for talent, she aims to elevate the narrative around Nigerian craftsmanship, paving the way for its recognition beyond borders. The success of Hertunba has sparked inspiration in others, with competitors drawing from her designs and storytelling. While imitation can be painful, Florentina views it as an indication of impact. “We are making waves, and people are beginning to pay attention,” she observes. Hertunba’s designs are a reflection of Florentina’s journey, where tradition meets modernity. “I constantly look to the women before me—my aunties and grandmothers—who wore their culture with pride,” she explains. By marrying historical influences with contemporary fashion, Florentina creates pieces that are both wearable and meaningful. “It’s important that our pieces resonate with today’s woman, whether she’s attending a board meeting or a social gathering.” New Project Her latest collection, “The Women Before Us,” pays homage to the regal aesthetic of past generations while making it accessible for the modern wardrobe. Florentina’s designs are about celebrating beauty in all forms, aiming to combat body dysmorphia and promote inclusivity. “I want every woman to know she is strikingly stunning in her own way,” she affirms. Florentina also believes in the importance of storytelling in fashion. “Every piece we create has a story behind it—whether it’s inspired by my grandmother’s weaving techniques or a specific cultural motif,” she notes. This narrative-driven approach not only adds depth to her collections but also fosters a connection with her customers. Florentina emphasizes the significance of educating consumers about the cultural heritage embedded in each design, reinforcing the value of authenticity in the fashion industry. “Fashion should not just be about trends,” she insists. “It should reflect our stories, our journeys, and our identities.” By weaving these elements into her work, Florentina hopes to inspire others to embrace their roots and appreciate the artistry that defines their culture. Like any entrepreneurial journey, Florentina’s path has been fraught with challenges. From managing a burgeoning business from her home to finding the right talent to build her team, the road has not always been easy. “There were days I cried, questioning if I should take an easier path,” she admits. Yet, her resilience, rooted in her Benin upbringing, kept her moving forward. She also acknowledges the need to

Colonial Threads: The Interwoven Legacy of Sexuality and Shame in African Culture and Clothing   Time and time again, harmful representations of African clothing and customs are used to sully African culture, and by relation, African peoples.    Even children’s books,  representation used to largely come in the form of very dehumanizing caricatures, emphasizing the ‘savagery’ that was tied to the grass-skirted, loin-clothed, or even bare indigenous peoples.   The issue colonists had with the unclothed natives was the ‘savagery’ and ‘primitiveness’ of their lack of clothing. However, after taking a quick look at the way that classical art of ancient Greece simultaneously was heralded as the intellectual foundation of high art of the time, it becomes increasingly clear that the issue is not the nakedness of the natives, but the existence of the natives themselves.    On top of the shame  from the racist connotations that the west attached to the way natives presented bare, natives were also faced with the added burden of danger in the sexualization of their bare bodies. Clothing with the purpose of covering up was introduced into African culture through the suffering of Aboriginal women who partly took it up to reduce their sexual vulnerability under colonial rule.   Even in pictures of colonized women posed by European photographers, women were posed to make eye contact with the lens, as if directly looking at the viewer. This pose was reminiscent of emerging pornographic photography at the time. While the women were unaware of these connotations in their naked state that was otherwise commonplace to them, the groundwork to further sexualize the mere existence of African women was already deceitfully laid.   The colonial lens has lent to the corruption of the image of the naked African body– to see it as ‘unclean,’ ‘unnatural,’ and ‘unwell,’ further legitimizing and necessitating its colonization. Clothing has been used to denote proximity to ‘civilization’ and widen the contrast between unclothed Africa vs clothed Europe.   Clothing that conformed to European standards was not only taken up for protection from prying eyes, but began to reflect standards of ‘morality’ and ‘normalcy’. The pervasive demonization of bare African bodies is a larger symptom of the still-invasive colonial project to ‘reform’ Africans.   This has been ingrained so deeply into the culture of African society today as seen through the proposal and consideration for a Nigerian bill for an act to prohibit and punish public nudity, sexual intimidation, and other related offenses. The Public Nudity Bill went through two senate readings in 2007 and 2008, respectively, with it finally being dropped because of its discriminatory nature towards women which failed to honor and consider the cultural diversity of Nigeria. The way in which the bill used the terms ‘nudity’ and ‘indecent dressing’ interchangeably only serves to prove how still-permeating the colonial mindsets and traumas bleed into African society.   In Lagos, Nigeria, women accused of crime have their own autonomy taken from them, are dehumanized, and are forcibly stripped as a sanctioned punishment from ad hoc groups. Sexual and gender-based violence that disproportionately incites violence against women and girls and continue to use clothing as a weapon to further harm and rob women of their autonomy, recreating and reinforcing the colonial custom of gendered violence through clothing.   When we see and think about how clothing is weaponized against vulnerable communities today, we ought to look at the colonial pain and strife that informs these unjust cultures of violence. To truly enact change, we must utilize this knowledge to free ourselves and dismantle ideas that continue to perpetuate the demonization of African bodies and culture.     Stay connected with Afrique Noire Magazine here on Instagram.   And join our fast-growing community here on TikTok.