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Africa

Africa: Mudi Africa At 30 – From Grass to Glory, By Dele Sobowale

todayOctober 29, 2024 1

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“Against excellence in another [person], there is no way of defending ourselves except love.” Johann Goethe, VBQ, p 51.

This is the third time I have fallen in love with an artist/philosopher long before meeting him. The first and ever abiding one was Uncle Sam; the second ever green Victor Attah. This one coming so late in the day is God’s parting gift to me, and on the way out. I have only felt so happy about meeting a person for the first time five times in my life before.

Meeting Mudiaga Enejemo, Mudi, might be the last time before curtain call. Just as well. He is absolutely unique; just as each of my heroes are in their own ways. Henceforth, I can never pass through Mudi Lane, Anthony Village, named after the fashion/artist, philosopher without having the thrill a deeply religious person experiences when gazing at the symbol of their fate. I adore great artists and philosophers.

Meeting MUDI

It was providentially pre-ordained that we should meet eventually. For years, I have been curious to know who owns the most beautiful work of art, a building, in Anthony Village, and one of the best in Nigeria, when it was built at the spot.

Of one thing I was sure; an artist who owns it. The two always well-manicured and tantalisingly green lawns in front, neatly marked off with snow white boundaries; the walkway between the two with small artworks on both sides; leading to the glass and chrome front door reveal a soul that like all great artists is fanatical about details. In my wildest imaginations, I thought it was a Museum; but there was no sign to that effect. I would have found a clever reason in my younger and more adventurous years to walk up to the door and ask questions.

Old age has its drawbacks; among which is fear of being ridiculed for suffering from dementia. Yet, deep in my heart, I wanted to enter that building; to find out more of the treasures that I instinctively knew were hidden behind those exquisite light grey walls. On Wednesday and Thursday, October 18 and 19, 2024, all my prayers were answered. I met the owner of the mysterious building and the next day, I was admitted into the building by Mudi himself. Nobody who had won the lottery could have been happier than me on that day. Everything inside the building surpassed my expectations – including my quiet prayer the night before that he would use white for the interior. It was all white inside; spotlessly white against which other artworks were set.

Even the avocado green guitar, like paintings on the wall and other works, was obviously in the right place. The visitor is challenged to find a speck of dust on the floor or a dark mark on any white wall. It was like being in a great Cathedral. You are awed by the fanatical attention to all the other details before you realise that Mudi is one of the most successful fashion designers in Africa. Our meeting was indeed providential; and later, I intend to show how the interview cast some light on the gloom which had descended on the nation since the World Bank asked Nigerians to abandon hope.

I was at Uncle Sam’s place for a meeting with Barrister Adegbite, who now spends eighty five per cent of his time attending to fish matters instead of legal briefs. Uncle Sam, who once stumbled into fish business and was bundled out of the sector, wanted to help the lawyer – who was in a fix. I was also in the fish business; until the great flood in Ibadan destroyed the fish ponds and all the fish swam away, undoubtedly into cooking pots somewhere free of charge. Olu Domingo was also there. A Nigerian-Italian, who must leave other nationals puzzled. “Italians are rascals everywhere in the world”; as we have been told. Nigerians are hardly welcome anywhere in the world; even in Ghana, South Africa, Libya or Republic of Benin. But, just as chlorine and sodium are deadly when swallowed, the combination gives us common salt – indispensable. Olu is like a rough diamond which, with the smallest brush, reveals the glitter beneath the surface dirt. A delight to meet. He was there also to join the fish rescue effort.

REMARKABLE DAYS

“I hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling drunkenness or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood.” William Shakespeare, 1564-1616, VBQ p 103.

Suddenly, two guys stormed the balcony. One was in conventional outfit; and he was carrying hampers. The other was dressed in black trousers with all the pockets out and a dark yellow designer shirt with several logos. He struck me as an artist. It was Mudi; the man I had been dying to meet. It was the 30th anniversary of his business and he had brought the gift to Uncle Sam – the man who had not only encouraged him, but who actually gave him 100 dollars on the first visit to his studio. I always fall for anybody who demonstrates gratitude to those who helped along the way to the top.

And, here was a winner coming to express appreciation to one of those who built his ladder of success in stead of kicking them in the head as we frequently observe among politicians. More than ever, I decided to know more about him. I called Uncle Sam after the fish business to request for his phone number; in order to do what the media worldwide is established to do. Among our duties is to discover and promote talented people whenever and wherever we find them for economic and social development. I called him and requested for an appointment; which he readily granted for the next day. For me, it will remain one of the most remarkable days since starting as a media person in 1987. I got more than expected. Very rare.

THE ESSENTIAL MUDI

“A well written life is almost as rare as a well-spent one.” Thomas Carlyle, 1791-1881, VBQ p 131.

I am not even pretending to be writing Mudi’s biography now. At 56, looking like 40, he would need that to be done. What follows is just a sketch of a life already well-lived at such a young age in a profession which most of us treat with disdain because there are hundreds of thousands of mediocre for each genius practising it. An hour in his place revealed to me how honourable the art going into fashion designing is compared to other aspects of art. Essentially, it is a matter of a man or woman exposing his soul through the medium in which he is gifted. Two great artists, in different areas, have helped me to write this section.

“We must grant the artist his subject, his ideas, his theme; our criticism is applied to what he makes of it.” Henry James, 1843-1916. VBQ p. 17.

To that profound statement about all artists by one of the greatest writers who ever lived, another master of the world of creative people wrote.

“Great artists have no country.” Alfred De Musset, 1810-1857.

Bob Marley, and Fela Anikulapo made music their subject; Bruce Onobrakpeya and Ben Enwonvu, 1917-1994 chose sculpture; Sa’adu Zungur, 1915-1958, Chinua Achebe, 1930-2013 opted for writing to achieve immortality; and to fly the national flag globally.

Mudi has embraced fashion designing heart and soul. And, he is already an artist without country; except perhaps continental in outlook. The light grey kaftan he had on during the interview could have been made by a gifted fashion designer in Pakistan, Azerbaijan or Mauritania. But, he created it. There was nothing conventional about it; yet it seemed absolutely appropriate for every place and occasion on earth. He brands his designs Afro-centric.