Women Academics From Nigeria

"I’m so happy it did what it did. And I’m happy Lifebox is getting on fine."

"I have also been privileged to serve as Chair, International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions (IFLA) Africa Section and IFLA Division V (Africa, Oceania, Latin America, and the Caribbean); Member, IFLA Governing Board; Member, Governing Board, National Library of Nigeria and Adviser, Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation Global Libraries Programme, to name a few. I am currently one of the fourteen individuals appointed globally as a member of the International Advisory Committee of UNESCO Memory of the World from 2015 to date. I am also a Fellow of the US State Department, International Visitor Leadership Program; Fellow, UNESCO Institute of Lifelong Learning and Associate, IFLA International Leaders Programme. I have published over 30 peer-reviewed papers, attended over 200 conferences and received over 15 awards."

"I won’t say I’m surprised at how the work has developed, because of the drivers behind it. Because I know that it’s not about making money: there’s passion, there’s interest in making things better globally. It was one of the best teams I’ve worked with."

"We anesthetize people, and once they wake up we’re happy; we may never see them again. But then months, years down the line there may be things they suffer. And that’s when my son came to mind. It was spontaneous."

"I sat there quietly in Geneva, listening, and thought – do these people really know what they’re talking about? I worked in a hospital all my life, and in return I got a son who suffered oxygen deprivation. And now I’m looking after him, and living with it. That’s what prompted me to speak."

"I was a young doctor, and I was having my first baby at the hospital where I worked. In those days there was hardly any monitoring, just an earpiece to hear the baby’s heart. So the C-section came too late, and my son was severely asphyxiated. They resuscitated aggressively – it would have been unheard of, for a young house officer to lose her baby."

"Transparency and commitment: that’s what yielded dividends, and this work is life-saving. It’s not just restricted to surgery and anaesthesia – a pulse oximeter can help anyone in critical condition, fighting for life."

"I just told them that oxygen deprivation can be devastating. Not just immediately, but even worse in the long term. I don’t have a support system in my country. So I have to bear everything about my son’s care within my family."

"Palliative care was just as crucial component of healthcare delivery as preventive, curative and rehabilitation aspects of medical care and advocated for greater its inclusion in health policies and guidelines"

"No, no – it certainly wasn’t planned. I was so surprised that I even came out with it, because I don’t normally talk about my son in public, in large groups. But we had earlier on been talking informally about family before the meeting, and you know how it goes – oh you look younger than your age, do you have kids, how many girls, how many boys, and where are they now."

"At the meeting, I listened to the way people were arguing, talking about the importance of water, electricity, infrastructure – because they had worked in Africa or other low-resource countries. And they were trying to show that there are issues more important than monitoring."

"I'm curious what she would make of the world now. I mean, considering the British Empire's history and whatnot. Also, I just find her interesting as an individual. So it would be two for the price of one."

"It’s true that water and electricity are problematic areas – but we’ve always had to manage resources in surgery. That’s for your management of the hospital to sort out. But when it comes to anaesthesia, that’s a one-to-one problem. Once you accept to anesthetize a patient, you’ve taken the responsibility."

"Do they have to be artists? I’d have a very random selection of people so I could watch the sparks fly. I'm here for it. A bit of chaos never hurt anyone!"

"I got passionate about it because I remember the way we were practicing in my country. Because it was the most advanced tertiary institution, we were handling all the major cases, and it used to be a nightmare. There was no monitoring equipment, and it was just too stressful. When the patient is under anaesthesia your own heart rate is constantly going up; it’s like working in a dark tunnel. Stress is violent on your own body. Your brain is suffering, your heart is suffering, you can feel it – your whole body, after a major procedure. You find that you can’t sleep for days because you are worrying about that patient."

"A bit. This new body of work is very personal and therapeutic. It's like the next stage for me after two years of therapy so far. It's like a positive pain. Llike exercising your body. It hurts, but you know, it's also making things better. I think that's how I’d describe it."

"When lockdown hit I just moved everything into my old flat because I didn't know how long lockdown was going to be, so it just made sense to have everything close by. I loved it. I loved having my work where I live and just being able to work anytime I wanted. There's an intimacy to living with your work. It’s one of the first and last things you see every single day and I love that. It also like reminded me of the early days of my practice when I literally just worked out of my bedroom. I think for now I'm gonna keep working out of my flat. I will probably go back to a more traditional studio situation at some point but for now, I think I'm gonna stick with this."

"Yeah, yeah. I mean, I am a little healthier now in the sense that I keep the work out of my bedroom. This is something I just started like literally like two months ago. It was a matter of, I love you but I need some space."

"My sister has this theory that I'm making a self-portrait over and over again. But I've told her she's not a critic or historian, so I don’t have to listen to her to her. If she gets her theory publishes, then I'll take her seriously."

"They’re alive! Yeah, I mean, I know when the work is complete. Before I even start, I know the end. I think if I if my process was more open ended, I'd still be making my first piece. I'd never finished. I'm not gonna set myself up like that. I know who I am."

"It's a box frame, like glass or perspex. It’s really important to keep people's fingers away from the pieces. That’s a downside to the what am I looking at reaction. The instinctive reaction is to touch what you’re trying to understand."

"I have no loyalty in music a bop is a bop. So my general shuffle play is quite varied. Sometimes I'd rather like listen to a series or movie I've already seen so I just watch it in my head. From time to time, I’ll listen to stand-up comedy."

"Maybe they're a combination of all the women I've known and all the women I wish I knew. Except for newest body of work where I'm drawing on my family's history. Those pieces feel far more personal."

"The key is being intentional about actively recognising what you are getting back otherwise you're gonna learn to turn bitter and not allow yourself to be vulnerable. You will compromise something and I think one of my biggest fears is breaking what makes my practice my practice, because I still don't know what it is. And as much as I don't mind, the occasional gamble, the soul of my practice isn’t something I'm willing to fuck with."

"I think the glint is the physical activation of the rest of the intuition that went into the work. An expression of my inability to explain why I’ve made certain choices, while knowing they were the right choices to make."

"I'm perfectly fine with never figuring out what it is. Because, it’s a matter of what ifs. What if understanding those intangible qualities or variables that make my work what it is gives the power to actively shape my practice? But what if knowing the tangibility of the intangible compromises the spirit of the work? It's a bit a bit of a Pandora's box type thing. Like, it could be hella cool. But it could also not."

"Also, I mean, at the risk of psychoanalysing that's also a way to protect yourself, and your ability to make more work. At the risk of sounding cliché, there’s a price to pay for creating. It is a give and take, but I think its human nature and dwell on what you've lost. But I do think the work definitely gives back to you, at least it does to me."

"The last thing I do for every piece is that little glint in the eye. And it always changes everything. Like clockwork. I always do it last, because that’s the moment the piece becomes. They move from existence as a thing to a new plane where they are beings. It feels cruel to complete the animation process any earlier than I have to. It's like it's always magical for me and I still don't know what it is about that little glint that changes everything. And quite frankly, I think at this point I've made my peace with not knowing. Besides, so much of my work is so structured, you know, and process driven. It makes the intuitive bits very special. It's fine. I don't have to know everything."

"I don't revisit it. Not with the original intention anyway. If I go back to it, it's because it's moved to like the experimentation corner of my studio and I test things out on it. But I don't revisit it with the original intention of making that piece. It's either it just wasn't ready to be or just didn't want to exist in that form. Yeah. So yeah, when the skeleton is done, and I'm happy with it, I move on to what I call the meditative bit, which is basically just finishing the work. It's like the difference between like, a new relationship and marrying someone. At that point, I know you. I know your dodgy habits. I can predict what you would do if a squirrel wandered into the bathroom. You know, I know you. It's that process of just existing together and finishing the piece. I love you, but there are little to no surprises left at that point. So it's a different kind of love. It's like more steady and tolerant. It sounds really weird. Like I'm talking about a person, but it really is what it feels like."

"I dream about them. And I just wonder if they're fine. And if they're happy and well. There's always a sadness when you let work go. But it's something I also had to make peace with early on, because I knew I wanted to have certain conversations with my work. It's counterproductive to only talk to yourself about certain things, the conversation has to go beyond me. You can't engage people if you're not going to talk to them. You have to let the work go because, at some point, it's kind of cruel. When the work is done, they become beings in their own right. And I don't think I would want to be trapped with my maker for my entire life."

"I get very attached to my tools. They've come with me every time I've moved. So whatever tools I start project with, I will usually stick with them. Throughout. I also get superstitious about cleaning parts of my studio when I work. I will usually avoid cleaning in the middle of stage. It just messes with the energy otherwise. I don't know how else to explain it. When I'm really struggling to work, I take la few days off. And I reread two favourite books. It can’t be a new book has to be something I've read before and loved. I read two books. And then I watch Beyoncé’s “I Am” world tour. It works every time."

"There's also the use of material, which confuses people at first. What on earth is it? Because you're not quite sure what you're looking at, and that curiosity compels you to dig a little deeper, and just try to make sense of what you're seeing. It forces you to reconsider what you think you know, about the material, because, I mean, it's just, it's like the blandest materials, you know. It's just there, you know. You don't really think about it, and you don't really think about what it could do. And so when you see it used in such an unusual way, it does kind of trigger reconsiderations of what you think you know, and how you think you know, it. This feeds into everything."

"It's a bait and switch. Yes. I think it's a bit like going to therapy. And when you have your aha moments, it’s followed by Oh my God! What else? What else have I been missing? It’s kind of like that. I think from time to time, everyone should be encouraged to reconsider what they think they know. We are trained, especially in the world we live in now, we are trained to come to swift conclusions without being very critical of how we got there."

"The process tends to be pretty similar. For different pieces, it starts with like resolving the idea, and how the idea kind of translates to a physical piece. Sometimes I sketch. I find myself sketching more often these days. Sometimes you just need help figuring out how the forms will interrupt space. But I don't start to anything until the piece is clear. It has to be as clear as possible. I would say, like maybe 70 80%, clear, the remaining 20% tends to resolve itself. It's like I'm building a jigsaw puzzle, where I'm the only one who can see the end image, and then I have to translate it for everyone else. There's not a lot of room for error, so I need to know exactly where I'm going. Otherwise, I can't take anyone else with me."

"What unifies them? I think it's subverting expectation, you know, it's that bait and switch, The physicality, the visual nature or visual identity of my work. It's like a bit of a trick. Because you see the work in one way; they are pretty bright, colourful, it's just a pretty picture. It's just something fun to look at. And the more you engage with it. That is when you start to realise I'm not necessarily saying anything happy, or pleasant, or fun, you know."

"It’s a weird one. It's work, but it's not. I really had to separate parts of myself to deal with different parts of my practice. Because while my work is quite literally my life, and whether or not that is healthy, that's a different conversation entirely. I suppose, if a lawyer told me their work was their life, I feel sorry for them. So whether or not that's healthy is a different conversation. But my work is my life. Every decision I have made in my personal life, since 2014, has been in service of the practice. I've had to learn to separate a side of myself that understands it's not just an expression of my being, it is quite literally my career. It's my job."

"So I think the issue starts to come up when you’re not honest with yourself about those distinctions and how you are willing to engage with them. What your limitations are, as well. And you know, how you can correct for them. It's a weird business. It's a weird business, but even at my most bogged down, miserable, you know, even when I'm stretched thin, and I've scheduled one too many things, I have one too many deadlines. I can't, I cannot literally think of anything else I'd rather be doing. Like I literally cannot picture myself doing anything. What on earth would I be doing?"

"Sometimes I think about pieces for months or years before I actually do anything about them. But once the idea is resolved, then I get to my favourite part, which is the planning. And that's basically where I decide everything about the physicality of the work. Colours, what papers to use, grammage fabrics, texture, what details need to come in, what tools, what materials. And then I start building what I call the skeleton, which is the initial outline. The first layer of colours, outlines for figures, that sort of thing. And if I am not excited about the skeleton, I don't continue. It's not gonna go well. Fortunately, that doesn't happen very often, because it's kind of sad when it does. But I've also learned the hard way there's no point forcing the work. It’s a waste of time, and it does a disservice to me and the work really. It's unkind to try to force something to be."

"Yes. Your degrees are printed on it. Money is printed on it. It’s what you’d distract a toddler with or wedge a table with. You know, it's so universal it’s a great Trojan horse quite frankly. Because everyone is familiar with it in some form, or the other. But it's boring and universal enough that you never actually give it a second thought."

"Oh I know! If it’s gonna be like an admin day then I'm updating my mailing list, updating my archive, working on proposals, searching for new opportunities, updating my artist statement, figuring out if I'm ready to tweak my website again, doing my books… all the things that come up basically running a business really."

"I did not! When I watch stuff, I'm so not a critic. Like for me to say a movie is bad, it was horrendously bad. I don't watch movies tv to critique them to death. I just I want to be somewhere else. I'm not looking for like, plot holes or implausible things. I actively shut down my brain from looking for twists and stuff. I rarely see what's coming. And I love it that way."

"In the evenings, I tend to read. I enjoy doing random research, like really random research. The last thing I searched last night was if you could take your multivitamins at night! I take walks. I walk every evening. And my new life's mission is to befriend all my neighbours’ cat. It's going pretty well. I have four favourites so far and I’ve named them all, Louise, Toothless, Void and Chonky. I also watch movies, series, you know, normal deactivate your brain type stuff."

"There is. There's always a chance I might never see them again. And I do have quite a few pieces that I haven’t seen since they left. And I do think about them, like are they happy?"

"I've noticed; it tends to be like a particular pool of books. If that doesn't work, it means I need something more like grounding. So I will restart a yearly ritual earlier than I had planned. For example, I reread all the Harry Potter's every year."

"When I was younger, my dream was always to live a life where I would wake up, and do whatever I wanted. And for the most part, I'm already living that life. I think that's a big part of what keeps my life going. It's a big part of what drives my practice. I'm doing exactly what I wanted to do, how I want to do it. I'm saying exactly what I want to say how I want to say it without compromising my vision or intention. It's something to be grateful for. I would say that freedom, that sense of freedom, is my fuel. Freedom to explore the world on my own terms."

"The highest praise my Mum’s ever giving anything is “this is nice”. But she was just so taken by this new work! And I think I think that was what signalled to me that maybe this really was something special. I knew I had found something very interesting that I enjoyed and I was curious about but I think the reaction my parents had made it externally real, you know, as opposed to just internally."

"Before that my work was purely design. It was purely, you know, marketing and advertising 100%. Being a studio artist was never something that had been on my radar. My plan had been to finish school, start working in an ad agency, take over the world. But everything completely shifted when I finished the first piece."

"I don't know what would have happened if I had never gotten that flyer. I don't know what would have happened if I had folded instead of rolling it. You know, it was a really, really really random discovery!"

"And so I started experimenting. I didn't know what I was doing with that first piece, I just knew it was gonna go really well or really badly. And so I started it in school, then we went on holiday and got kicked out of student housing. I had to go home and take the piece home because I wasn't done with it. And my parents were just obsessed! I would like walk into my little makeshift studio in some corner of the living room, and my dad would be there or my mum would be there just looking at it. You know? And the question was always the same. How? How did you start? How did you know?"

"Like, it’s not an easy career. I could have been an accountant. It would have sucked and I’d be bored and miserable! It would probably be easier. But here I am."