STYLING THE REBELLION: HOW I BUILT A FASHION CAREER IN A CITY THE STYLE WORLD IGNORES

In a city where the idea of style ends at a dress code for Sunday brunch or a political dinner, I found myself styling revolutions in back alleys, building sets in abandoned buildings, and turning sweat into stories. Abuja is beautiful, with manicured streets, towering buildings, and a strange calm, but when it comes to fashion, it’s invisible. Even when foreign brands come to “Nigeria,” they mean Lagos. Abuja barely gets a mention.

I come from a place built on government contracts and political appointments, where being creative feels like being an alien. My parents still don’t quite understand what I do. I’m a stylist, art director, filmmaker, Polaroid photographer, and spatial designer, titles I never set out to collect. I only wanted to style, but art direction led to commercials, which led to film and set design. It’s been a butterfly effect I could never have planned, but one I wouldn’t trade for anything.

The Early Hustle

I didn’t just make moodboards, I became the mood. My early projects were pure survival creativity: pulling clothes from my own wardrobe, begging for studio time, shooting without light kits. My first gig was in the summer of 2018, styling Dice Ailes for ₦15,000. It wasn’t much, but it cracked the door open.

I didn’t take art direction seriously until January 2023, when I graduated from the University of Derby with a degree in civil engineering. I had done a few shoots in England, but moving back to Nigeria meant starting from scratch, and in Abuja, that’s double the work. I leaned on friends who believed in me, collaborating for free, creating out of nothing. Within six months, I had a campaign win, an exhibition slot, a magazine cover placement, and by July 2024, I shot my first commercial. In August, I landed my first spatial design gig for a Lagos streetwear event.

Everything was self-taught, self-funded, and self-directed. It still is.

Isolation + Identity

Some days, it felt like screaming into a vacuum. Abuja’s creative industry has no real infrastructure, no stylists’ unions, no production houses with a budget, and no fully equipped studios. If you want something, you build it yourself.

And then there’s the culture scandal after scandal, crashout after crashout, people would rather tear you down than lift you up. Gatekeeping is the norm; the older generation would rather take gigs outside their skill set than recommend younger talents. Many of them were raised on outdated aesthetics, while we grew up absorbing a spectrum of global art online.

In May 2025, the pressure broke me. A string of personal losses and relentless industry toxicity left me bitter, paranoid, and hallucinating. I was hospitalized, diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and put on medication. I almost walked away for good, but well-wishers convinced me to take time off, heal, and return. This industry can indeed drive you insane, but it can also pull you back from the edge.

Evolution + Breakthroughs

There’s something divine about seeing your vision materialize, even if you built it from scraps. I’ve worked with artists like PsychoYP, Rich the Kid, Dice Ailes, and Bella Shmurda, and with womenswear brands like Aminda and Nifa Studio. I’ve directed commercials, designed immersive spaces, and produced campaigns that looked exactly how I imagined them in my head.

One of my biggest career highs came in April 2024, when Erykah Badu co-signed me, reposting eight of my projects and following me. A month later, I was flown to Kaduna as a fashion panelist. People started assuming I was from Lagos, which was flattering until May 2025, when Lagos actually called I was flown in for two music video art direction gigs. The energy there was different, unified, better paid, and deeply professional. I’ll live there briefly someday, just to fully experience the scene. But for now, I’m still building from Abuja.

I didn’t find creativity; it found me. Every part of the process, pre-production, shooting, and post-production, feels like home. I create first for myself because it’s therapy, and then for the world.

Abuja may not be a fashion capital yet, but we’re not waiting. We’re building. We’re documenting. We’re setting things on fire to see what rises. And when the world finally catches up, they’ll see my work for what it is: second to none. There aren’t many who can wear all my hats and excel in each, with a portfolio to prove it.

Until then, I’ll still be here sketching, shooting, styling, and setting the rebellion in motion. You will remember this city. You will remember me.

written by MAGA

Edited: Grix Magazine