I first discovered Oroma Elewa back in 2010, while living in New York City, desperately trying to carve out my place in the editorial world. The competition was fierce, and while the art of blogging was providing some relief from the strain of invisibility, there was still the overwhelming desolation stemming from paralysis of wasted years and talent, that needed to be recalibrated.
That’s probably why the images of Elewa in her purest splendor, as the prominent face of a growing movement of African creators, who were gorgeously laying down the foundation for the future era of indulgence from the Diaspora in all canals of artistic expression — both inspired and increased my self-awareness as a Nigerian-American — who was still exploring elements of raw interpretation.
As the years accumulated, Elewa’s voice experienced the ebb and flow of exposure that was heightened by the introduction of her cultural bible Pop’Africana, which garnered immense praise from industry insiders — both at home and abroad.
But there’s no question that the homage to Africanism with fusion of individualism that was meant to enlighten globetrotters was light years ahead of its time, when you consider how a similarly cohesive manual of Black African intellectuality is sorely missing from the present landscape.
