For centuries, the way Africans dressed was a reflection of their environment, beliefs, and status. Kings and scholars alike were adorned in woven fabrics of gold-threaded cotton, while skilled artisans dyed clothes in pits that were renowned across the Mediterranean. Fashion was never just about covering the body—it was a statement of identity, craftsmanship, and culture.
The first time I attended the Osun Festival, I was eight years old. I had traveled to Osogbo to spend the long holidays with my Aunty Adeola, who had a way of taking me on adventures, so she was my favorite family member to spend the holidays with. She told me one morning that we had an outing to attend.
When we think about the countless women writers today, it is hard not to wonder who the first woman to boldly pick up a pen, share her stories, and become known as a writer was? Who was that woman who refused to be silenced, even when society may have tried to stifle her voice?
She was thrown off the balcony of Kalakuta. Her frail seventy-seven years old body hit the ground with a force that would ripple through history. The year was 1977, and the Nigerian military had invaded Kalakuta, the communal compound owned by her son, Fela Kuti. They were looking to silence dissent. But in that act of violence, they only amplified the story of a woman who had spent her entire life resisting oppression. Her name was Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti.
