The piece shows the beauty of preserving the spaces we exist in, our cities. The whole concept was inspired by the increase in pollution which tends to make the spaces we inhabit less appealing and plays a role in escalating the climate change crisis.

In my concept series of pieces, Hlobisile means "She who makes spaces clean", hence in the artwork she is elegant in her recycled waste materials which she has collected around her workspace to make the garments she is seen wearing in the artwork. The message puts emphasis on the need to take lead in combating social issues or climate issues. Hlobisile is presented as a change agent in her community as well as an innovative being who is showing the beauty of using creativity to recycle and reuse waste materials.

The “Igba Boi” tradition, meaning “Apprentice,” is a cherished customary practice originating from the eastern region of Nigeria. In this tradition, a master takes on the responsibility of teaching and training a younger individual in a specific trade they have honed over the years. This arrangement typically begins with the consent of the apprentice’s direct guardian, or parents seeking to secure a promising future for their child. The master assumes full responsibility for the apprentice’s welfare, including housing, food, and comprehensive training in the chosen trade. This mentorship typically spans from 3 to 7 years, depending on the complexity of the skill being taught. At the culmination of the agreed-upon apprenticeship period, during which the apprentice has mastered the craft, the master fulfills their commitment by facilitating the establishment of a similar business for the apprentice, enabling them to become independent entrepreneurs. Additionally, the master continues to serve as a mentor, offering guidance and support whenever needed in the future. This tradition has transcended boundaries, being embraced and practiced across various ethnicities across Africa. Education is a documented leverage for every participator, but skill is the perfect reward for those who have mastered it.

The Street “Tout”, or Onye “Agboro” as it’s popularly known in Nigeria, is a troubling presence in many communities. These individuals operate outside the law, yet they seem beyond the reach of local authorities. They’re seen as rough and unpredictable, resorting to intimidation and violence to enforce their own rules. Their main hustle? Extracting “taxes” from anyone doing business in their territory. Whether you’re a bus driver, a motorcyclist, or a market trader, they’ll demand their cut. Refusal is met with aggression, sometimes resulting in damage to property or physical altercations. These touts see themselves as lords of the land, entitled to their spoils. They’re not just random troublemakers; they’re carefully chosen for their fear-inducing demeanor. They operate in a strict hierarchy, answering to a bigger boss who, in turn, has connections to regional authorities. It’s a grim reality for commuters and business owners alike, living under the constant threat of these extortionists. But there’s hope on the horizon. As our world becomes more digitized and interconnected, we can envision a future where these street touts are a relic of the past. A future where governance is transparent, and community leaders work hand in hand to enforce structures to help eradicate future generations indulging in this uncultured act. It’s incumbent upon us as individuals to foster acquisitions that help sanitize the future of life within our communities, which will, in turn, help build a better society at large. Unfortunately, survival is a call for the living.

More often than not, a beacon of hope doesn’t always look like what we think it should, or what we expect. Usually, hope is a tiny change in the wind. It starts small and is hardly visible. We are more likely to miss the subtle signs at the beginning, more likely to overlook the chance to nurture such a delicately small proof of life in a cause. Hope begins as a rumor, a piece of gossip, or a polite interaction with a stranger at the bus terminal. It’s a promise that the future is not as bleak as believed because if this one thoughtful stranger exists, then surely, thousands more exist in different places. And if you can see and appreciate that, then others can see them too and maybe, just maybe, like you, decide to pay it forward. Hope is random. Hope is unexpected. Hope starts small. Hope is soft and quiet.

In an ideal world, every voice should hold weight. In such a world, the few entrusted with collective well-being would fulfil their roles driven by a deep empathy that places the importance of life above all. What happens when we find ourselves guided to dangerous edges by the very hands that are meant to safeguard our liberties and lives? Hands that seem to overlook the natural cycles and the deep ties that bind everything. It suggests that there’s no respite for anyone, and the very things they cherish might eventually disintegrate. What can be said when vision fails them, and they overlook the flames that start to lick at their own seats of power? Amid these trials, the murmurs of dissent begin to intensify, voicing the grievances of those often overlooked. The fractures in established structures grow more apparent, exposing the unfortunate truth that self-preservation might sometimes overshadow the welfare of the community. Yet, there remains a beacon of hope. For every threatening blaze, there are individuals ready to rise, bound by a shared resolve to drive transformation. Their voices will not be stifled; instead, they gather strength, advocating for transparency and righteousness. In these challenging times, the significance of solidarity and understanding comes sharply into focus. It’s a call for everyone to stand up and make their presence known, contributing their voices to the collective striving for a world where dignity, empathy, and fairness prevail.

This artwork reflects my envisioning of how my hometown, Pietermaritzburg would look in 2050. Church Street in Pietermaritzburg is the central “heart” of the town. It is also one of the streets constantly reminisced about looking neater and better during apartheid than it does now, on the brink of slowly eroding. It is a street now often not well maintained, and during the 2021 lootings at Pietermaritzburg, old architecture faced burning and demolishment that can still be seen today. It is clear that with the current municipal rule of the town, it might continue to erode. My envisioning for 2050 is this area still contains some of the old architectural buildings, but also other structures erupted for accommodation as overpopulation occurs and more people live in the city. New structures are built on top of old buildings, some informal, and makeshift balconies through the hacking of walls become the way citizens view the scenery. Citizens often wear masks outside, as a form of filter for the pollution affecting the air, a consequence of the factory town Pietermaritzburg has often been. Street vendors line the road, while people meander, window shopping and going about their day.

This artwork reflects my envisioning of how the town where I study, Stellenbosch would look in 2050. Victoria Street is one of the main streets of Stellenbosch, mostly because of its connection to the open Stellenbosch University campus, residences and main town. This street is also known for being lined with oak trees, making it leisurely to walk in during the summer months. Stellenbosch’s main areas are quite well maintained by the ruling party of their municipality, but it is criticised that the well-maintained areas are those connected to the university, tourism and the affluent white population that mostly resides in Stellenbosch. Township areas where the population is mostly non-white, still have issues with service delivery. Being situated in the Western Cape, dubbed the province that feels like a different country within South Africa, I depict in the future, this place being one that is solely exclusive to the white, affluent population. This would be also because of Stellenbosch’s history and strong ties to white Afrikaner culture, and that there would be almost a ‘return’ and strengthening, a real bubble formed within the town, excluding those who do not fit into their bubble. The seeking of the past comes in the Cape Dutch Architecture houses lining the street. As much as the town deals with overpopulation by bringing more suburbs into the main street.

Cities rarely reflect our identity. We very often find ourselves in urban developments that move away from our cultural codes. By contemplating a conception of our urban reality, we can visualize an environment that reflects our identity.

We have a futuristic vision of our environment while preserving our identity values ​​in urban planning. We are the necessary transition, each individual is responsible on an individual scale for the state of our cities.

This piece represents my grandmother's hut that was built in mud. It has stood the test of time as compared to the increase of concrete structures that have been failing and blocking our waterways. Gogo is brewing our traditional brew made of milk called 'Mursik' as she listens to the child telling stories of how she found the fish by the stream.

Inspired by African heritage house and my visit to the ruins. Africans heritage house holds a collection of African art and heritage. This heritage goes down to local farmers who have been seed saving for years. Our government placed a ban on seed sharing. This piece shows a traditional basket from the Luhya community in Kenya behind the old man which I used to store seeds and grains. Gede ruins was abandoned because of conflict and drying out wells. Sustainable ponds and preventing rainwater surface runoff would help replenish the aquifers and this is the future that I hope for.

Desertification, water pollution, groundwater contamination, toxic waste, rubbish and wastewater, insalubrity, the proliferation of harmful species are a reality here in Mali. Plastic is the right mediator: it clarifies for us that we are not taking care of our environment. The world is our most precious asset, and we all have a duty to protect and preserve it for the benefit of all. Nature is the refuge of all species.

Through my series of 2 works, I'm launching an appeal to the public: they shouldn't wait for the public services, the hygiene services, to take saving initiatives, because they are the first to be affected by the inconvenience caused by degradation.Through these works, I want to show that this waste can be transformed through recycling.In this respect, art remains a framework for me: it's about showing a sense of patriotism with my line of wool and my needle. It's my weapon in the fight against his country's waste.

An African woman’s hair always tells a story. It contains our DNA and so it identifies us and tells the history of our forebears. How we choose to style our hair often tells a lot about our character, our status, our circumstances and our beliefs – whether we have an afro, braids, locks, weaves, or perms. In these pieces, the hair is used as the narrator of the history of my country, Sierra Leone. This country was once referred to as ‘The Athens of West Africa’ as it boasted the first and foremost university in colonial West Africa, producing the majority of West Africa’s educated elite. In the early years of independence our currency, the Leone was stronger than the US Dollar. This small country is rich in numerous minerals, diamonds, has fertile agricultural land, abundant fishing resources, stunning beaches and the finest natural harbour on the West African coast.

The hair in both images of my series shows a particular location, the Aberdeen Bridge, as seen from the verandah of my home. The first image was taken in the early 2000s. The land and the water are clean, free of debris, the colors of nature speak of tranquility, serenity and order. Young trees and shrubs are growing and the surrounding body of water was also a haven for birds and other wildlife. The second image was taken in 2024. The once tranquil coastline has been devoured by makeshift zinc structures crammed together where the poor seek shelter. The water is filled with trash and excrement. The air is filled with the smell of toxic smoke and the tense sounds of arguments, frustration and anger, the constant din of pigs wailing, chickens crowing, pots and pans clanging and children crying. This is manmade poverty at its finest. On the other side of the water, large expensive apartment buildings and a water taxi terminal have risen up. The reddish color represents the rust, danger, decay and negative emotional energy. Our country, although stillrich enough in resources to give every man, woman and child a comfortable and decent life is suffering and degenerating; its people ranked among the poorest in the world. The dollar is now at approximately 25,000 to the Leone which continues its downward descent. Alarm bells are ringing. Who is responsible? Where is our leadership? What has become of our State? Is it inherently corrupt or is it being corrupted by outside forces and interests? Is there hope for the future? It is truly every man for himself…

Today more than ever, the environment is under threat. The living environment is steadily deteriorating as a result of human selfishness, as reflected in our everyday behaviour. In African cities, the street has become a dumping ground where people are free to dispose of their daily rubbish. Anything goes: plastic bags, wrecks, all kinds of packaging, broken household appliances, old rags, newspaper, cigarette butts, tin cans… in short, anything we don’t need any more is good for the street… we don’t set ourselves any limits (red lines) that we don’t want to cross. Because unfortunately “MBEDD MI MBEDDUM BUUR LA” (The Street belongs to the king) and BUUR (the King) just doesn’t seem to be there.

One of the consequences of the rural exodus is the huge increase in the population of our towns and cities, which naturally requires them to expand and new housing to be built. But unfortunately, according to the experts, this construction goes against the rules of town planning and does not always take into account the constraints of the sites putting forward purely mercantile interests. As a result, nature is being attacked and disembowelled: forests are disappearing, coastlines are being nibbled away at from all sides, and concrete and iron silhouettes are growing arrogantly and carelessly in the very places where trees are being uprooted and felled. The paradigm of public interest is being trampled underfoot in favour of unbridled selfishness.