Lagos in the early 1970s was restless and loud, filled with musicians, journalists, political thinkers, and artists searching for new ways to speak openly. It was within this charged cultural environment that Lemi Ghariokwu, a young artist known for his bold portrait work and symbolic imagination, crossed paths with Fela Aníkúlápó Kuti.
Their connection grew through shared creative circles rather than formal introductions. Ghariokwu’s artwork stood out in a city already crowded with talent. When Fela encountered it, he saw more than illustration. He saw an artist capable of translating Afrobeat’s confrontational energy into images that could speak before a single note was heard.
That recognition marked the beginning of a collaboration that would redefine how African music presented itself to the world.
Kalakuta Republic and the Making of a Visual Language
As Ghariokwu became a regular presence around Fela’s world, he spent time at the Kalakuta Republic, the communal compound that served as home, rehearsal space, ideological hub, and symbol of defiance. Kalakuta was not just a physical location. It was a living statement against authority, colonial mentality, and social conformity.
Inside this environment, music was inseparable from politics. Conversations about African identity, state violence, corruption, and cultural freedom shaped daily life. For Ghariokwu, witnessing this atmosphere firsthand sharpened his visual approach. His art absorbed the tension, urgency, and resistance that defined Afrobeat during its most politically charged years.
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Album Covers That Spoke Before the Music
Ghariokwu’s most enduring contribution came through album covers that refused to be decorative. Over the course of his collaboration with Fela, he designed more than two dozen album sleeves, each one functioning like a political poster.
These covers were dense with meaning. Figures were exaggerated, symbols layered, and text integrated directly into the artwork. Soldiers became caricatures. Politicians appeared as grotesque figures of excess. Ordinary people were shown crushed, resisting, or rising. The imagery mirrored the accusations Fela made in his lyrics, turning albums into visual manifestos.
Works such as Zombie, Coffin for Head of State, and No Bread became instantly recognisable, not only for their sound but for the images that framed them. For listeners encountering Afrobeat for the first time, especially outside Nigeria, these covers offered an immediate understanding of what the music stood for.
Art, Ideology, and Independence
Fela was known for his strong convictions and for expecting those around him to engage seriously with the ideas driving his music. Politics, African history, resistance, and personal discipline were constant topics within his circle. Ghariokwu operated within this intense environment while maintaining his own artistic independence.
Their collaboration worked because both men believed art should confront power. Ghariokwu’s designs did not simply echo lyrics. They expanded them, offering visual narratives that challenged viewers to think, question, and react.
Over time, however, the intensity that fueled Afrobeat also created pressure. The pace of production was relentless, expectations were high, and creative boundaries were constantly tested.
The 1977 Raid and a Changed World
In February 1977, the Kalakuta Republic was attacked by soldiers, an event that sent shockwaves through Nigeria’s cultural and political landscape. The compound was destroyed, residents were assaulted, and Fela’s mother, the prominent activist Funmilayo Ransome Kuti, was injured and later died from complications related to the attack.
The raid changed everything. It hardened Fela’s resolve and intensified his confrontation with the state. It also altered the atmosphere around him. Fear, grief, and exhaustion settled over the community, affecting relationships, creativity, and daily life.
A Partnership That Slowly Unraveled
The end of Ghariokwu’s collaboration with Fela did not come through a single dramatic break. Instead, it unfolded gradually. Creative tension, differing expectations around artistic control, and the emotional weight of the post raid period all played a role.
By the late 1970s, Ghariokwu began focusing more on independent work. He went on to design thousands of album covers for musicians across Africa, helping shape the visual identity of African popular music far beyond Afrobeat.
Years later, the two men reconnected, their mutual respect intact. Their shared history had already left a permanent mark.
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Why the Images Still Matter
Afrobeat’s power is often described through sound, the horns, the rhythms, the relentless repetition. But its memory is also visual. Ghariokwu’s artwork helped ensure that Afrobeat was seen as much as it was heard.
Those images continue to circulate decades later, appearing in exhibitions, books, and digital archives. They remind audiences that Afrobeat was never just entertainment. It was confrontation, education, and resistance.
Through ink, colour, and symbolism, Lemi Ghariokwu helped turn music into a movement that could be recognised at a glance.
Author’s Note
This story shows how movements are built through collaboration. Fela Kuti’s music challenged power with sound, while Lemi Ghariokwu challenged it with images that refused to look away. Together, they created a language that made resistance visible, proving that art and music can stand side by side in the struggle to define identity, freedom, and memory.
References
Carlos Moore, Fela, This Bitch of a Life
Michael Veal, Fela Kuti and the Politics of Afrobeat
Tejumola Olaniyan, Arrest the Music
British Library Sound Archive, Nigerian popular music and Afrobeat collections
Long form interviews with Lemi Ghariokwu in international music and culture publications
