To Have and to Hold: Ezinwanne Umerah

The Kaduna Fashion and Art Festival (KAFART) is back this year for its 6th overall edition and 1st edition as a biennial. The theme is “To Have and to Hold.” We had earlier spoken to the festival director, Ganiyat Sani, about what this edition promises. We spotlight some of the exhibiting artists and designers, asking them questions about their creative origins, their distinct interpretations of the theme, and how their heritage and local communities shape the narratives they choose to preserve against the threat of erasure.

Take us back to where your relationship with art began. What are your earliest memories of making, and who or what first made you feel that creating was something you could do, and perhaps needed to do?

My relationship with art began in Primary I loved to draw and I loved colour. I remember my gel pens, my crayons, and how much I looked forward to using them. My mum is the reason I believed it was something I could do. When I was 10, she enrolled me at a signage shop close to our house, where I would draw and learn to understand colour. She supported me every step of the way. As I got older, I moved on to drawing comics, and I read them too, from Marvel to Supa Strikas to the Archie comics a friend used to lend me. 

This year’s theme, “To Have and to Hold,” asks what we choose to hold, what we let go, and the cost of holding on. When you first sat with those words, what did they stir in you, and how do they show up in the work you’re bringing to KAFART?

The words took me straight back to my childhood. After church at St. Mary’s Parish, my mum would pick flowers, from hibiscus to bougainvillea, and put them in our hair. Sundays were what I looked forward to most, and she never forgot to pluck some for me and my sisters. 

That memory inspired the work I’m bringing to KAFART, a series of three pieces titled Joy Passed Through Her. 

My mum and my sisters have looked out for me in everything, from skincare to the bigger issues of life. We are bonded by taking care of one another. The work is built around the idea of holding on, and what I choose to hold on to is that bond: the love and care we share as sisters, as women and as human beings. 

Tell us about the piece, or body of work, you’re exhibiting. What is the story behind it, and what do you hope someone feels or understands when they stand in front of it?

I am exhibiting a series titled “Joy Passed Through Her”, an exploration of care, memory, intimacy, and the understated ways love is passed from one generation to another. 

In the first piece, a woman sits on an antique wooden chair while her mother stands behind her, gently placing a hibiscus flower in her hair. The scene is nostalgic and deeply symbolic to me. The hands adorning her hair are the same hands that cared for me as a child and continue to nurture me today. Through this work, I reflect on the tenderness of maternal care and the ways it lives on through familiar gestures, shared rituals, and inherited forms of love. I hope that when viewers stand before the piece, they are reminded of the hands that once held them, cared for them, and helped shape who they are.

The second piece explores the intimacy between two women lying against a nude-toned background, their hair intertwined and their eyes closed. Their closeness evokes a sense of familiarity, trust, and belonging. Jute, a significant material in this work takes on a floral quality, becoming a symbol of growth, strength, and interconnectedness. Its texture and form speak to the ways relationships take root, deepen, and hold us together. This symbolism is deeply personal to me, reflecting my own understanding of connection as something that is both tender and enduring. 

Both works are created using discarded fabrics sourced from fashion houses, alongside pages from old magazines and novels. By bringing these overlooked materials into new compositions, I consider how fragments of the past can be transformed into vessels for memory, meaning, and renewed life. The materials themselves carry a sense of history, echoing the central concerns of the works: what we inherit, what we hold onto, and what continues to grow through us. 

Together, these pieces reflect on the enduring nature of care and connection, and on how love, much like the materials we reclaim, can be carried forward, reshaped, and passed on. 

Take us through how your work comes to life, from the first spark of an idea to the moment you know it’s finished. Which materials, rituals or habits are essential to you, and is there anything about your process that would surprise people? 

Most of my process happens internally before I touch a canvas. I spend a lot of time thinking and imagining, and sometimes an idea follows me into my dreams. Once it settles, I research, journal, gather my references and sketch. 

My materials are discarded magazine paper and leftover ankara fabric from fashion shops where clothes are sewn. I like that they are things other people have finished with. I sort through them, then build the piece on canvas, adjusting and reworking until it comes out right. 

Mixed media collage makes every piece a puzzle. I rarely know for certain that it will turn out as planned, and that uncertainty can be scary, but I keep going until the pieces come together. That is probably what surprises people most: the work is far less certain while I’m making it than it looks when it’s finished. 

KAFART asks what endures in the face of erasure and forgetting. Is there a story, tradition, skill or memory from your culture, family or community that you feel is at risk of being lost, and how does your work help you hold onto it?

The art of appreciating little moments. We tend to focus on the big things and forget the small ones, like a mother putting flowers in her daughters’ hair on a Sunday afternoon. My work is how I hold on to those moments and give them the attention they deserve.

What does it mean to you to show your work at KAFART, and how has your community, your city and the way you grew up shaped the way you see and make?

I’m elated to be sharing my work at KAFART. It is my first time reaching a northern Nigerian audience, and with KAFART now international, my work will travel beyond Nigeria and beyond the community I know. 

I grew up in Lagos, and the city showed me that nothing is out of reach. Lagos people are dogged and consistent, and the hustle can be intense, sometimes to the extreme. The hustle spirit is strong here, and it taught me resilience. 

What is the work you haven’t made yet that excites you most, and what do you hope people carry with them after experiencing your work at KAFART?

I plan to go deeper into my childhood and capture more of its small, private moments. I can’t wait to start, and I want to bring that feeling of déjà vu to the canvas. 

Ultimately, I hope people leave the exhibition with a sense of joy and warmth in their hearts. I want the work to remind them of the beauty of the bonds they share with their families and communities, encouraging them to cherish the people who care for them and celebrate the connections that make them feel loved, seen, and held. Above all, I hope the work leaves them with a renewed appreciation for the simple, tender moments through which love is expressed and passed on.