Beyond the Prize Money: Award-Winning Artists Call for Stronger Support for Nigerian Culture

LITERARY prizes and creative arts awards can do more than reward individual achievement. They can also bring overlooked stories into public debate, encourage artistic experimentation and strengthen the preservation of a nation’s cultural memory.

That message emerged from separate interviews with lawyer and poet Ogaga Ifowodo and filmmaker Feranmi Abiola following the Grand Award Night organised by Nigeria LNG Limited (NLNG) in Lagos on 9 October 2026.

Ifowodo won the 2026 Nigeria Prize for Literature for Why Does God Need a Gun?, a poetry collection that examines religious violence, persecution and the misuse of faith. Meanwhile, Abiola shared the inaugural Nigeria Prize for Creative Arts with filmmaker Peter Oghenetega Oke, whose documentary is titled Beyond Tarkwa Bay. Abiola’s winning documentary, Mara Mania, explores an emerging music and dance movement driven by young Nigerians.

Although the works approach different subjects, both address a common concern: the need to preserve stories that reveal Nigeria’s social realities, creative energy and contested history.

The value of literary recognition extends beyond money

Ifowodo received $100,000 for winning the Nigeria Prize for Literature, a substantial reward that he described as both exhilarating and professionally significant.

The poet compared the award with the T. S. Eliot Prize, which carries a £25,000 reward, noting that the Nigerian prize offers a much larger financial incentive for poetry.

“I don’t know any writer anywhere who would not be exhilarated by the prize that comes with this amount of money,” he said.

However, Ifowodo believes the award’s greatest contribution may lie in the validation it provides. In a competitive literary environment, public recognition can help a writer reach readers who might otherwise remain unaware of the work.

“The more important thing about the prize is the validation that it gives,” he explained, adding that recognition can sometimes prove more valuable than the money itself.

Winning the award, he said, had helped position his collection before the reading public as a work deserving attention. Consequently, he expressed gratitude to NLNG for supporting literature and urged the company to continue investing in Nigerian writers.

The broader significance of such prizes lies in their potential to connect artistic quality with public engagement. Financial rewards can provide immediate support, while recognition may strengthen a writer’s visibility, encourage further publication and bring difficult subjects into wider discussion.

Nevertheless, a prize represents a beginning rather than a guarantee of lasting readership. Publishers, booksellers, libraries, schools and literary institutions also have roles to play in ensuring that award-winning works reach and remain accessible to readers.

Why Ifowodo’s collection challenges religious authority

The central question in Why Does God Need a Gun? concerns the contradiction between religious ideals of love and mercy and the violence people commit while claiming divine justification.

Ifowodo said he was troubled by the use of religion to justify cruelty, oppression and persecution. For the poet, invoking God while committing atrocities represents a profound betrayal of the values associated with faith.

“We all see the degradation, the blasphemy,” he said, describing the invocation of God’s name to justify violence as a form of taking that name in vain.

The collection also examines how religious interpretations can reinforce patriarchal structures and justify the subordination of women. By questioning such beliefs, Ifowodo explores the relationship between faith, power and personal freedom.

Rather than treating religious claims as beyond criticism, the poet encourages readers to examine their consequences. In particular, he challenges the idea that an assertion of divine authority should excuse the denial of another person’s dignity or freedom of belief.

These themes give the collection a significance that extends beyond literary experimentation. They place poetry within a wider public conversation about religious persecution, human rights and the responsibilities of those who exercise authority.

Leah Sharibu’s story anchors the collection

The experience of Leah Sharibu, the Nigerian schoolgirl abducted by Boko Haram in 2018, provided a major inspiration for Ifowodo’s collection. Sharibu became widely known after reports that she refused to renounce her Christian faith while in captivity.

Ifowodo said her courage compelled him to write the book and made him determined to keep her experience in public memory. During the award ceremony, he dedicated the prize to her, describing her refusal to abandon her faith as the inspiration behind the work.

Her story also shaped a central sequence in the collection, “From the Forest of a Million Demons (Leah Sharibu Lifts the Veil)”. The sequence concludes with “Soon, Archangel Michael Will Free Us”, a poem that explores the hope of freedom through the perspective of a captive speaker.

For Ifowodo, the poem’s hope also exposes a difficult theological question: how can people reconcile belief in an all-powerful and merciful God with atrocities committed in that God’s name?

The poet’s answer places responsibility on humanity. He argued that the path towards a better future requires an unequivocal commitment to equality, dignity and freedom of thought and belief, regardless of gender, race, class, creed, colour or social identity.

Consequently, the collection treats Sharibu’s experience as more than a personal tragedy. It uses her story to examine the wider consequences of intolerance and the need to protect people from persecution.

Writers preserve memories that power may seek to erase

Ifowodo sees the poet as a witness whose work can preserve suffering and challenge attempts to impose a single way of thinking or living.

“The poet as witness seeks, through language, to keep alive the memory of the ‘impress of extremity,’” he said, describing the writer’s responsibility to resist authoritarianism, whether religious or secular.

This role becomes especially important when violence, political conflict or religious persecution threatens to push victims out of public memory. Through poetry, writers can preserve experiences, question official narratives and give readers a language with which to confront difficult truths.

Literature cannot, by itself, end persecution or resolve religious conflict. Nevertheless, it can challenge indifference, expose contradictions and encourage society to consider the human consequences of beliefs and policies.

That is part of the significance of Ifowodo’s award. Beyond honouring an individual poet, the recognition brings a difficult subject into wider public view and affirms the value of literature as a space for moral and social inquiry.

Mara Mania documents a cultural movement before its history disappears

Abiola’s Mara Mania approaches cultural preservation from another direction. Instead of examining religious violence through poetry, the documentary records the people developing Mara, an emerging music and dance movement shaped by young Nigerians.

Abiola believes Mara has the potential to become a distinctive Nigerian sound with an international audience. The filmmaker described it as a blend of soulful music and energetic street dance, drawing on diverse influences rather than simply reproducing earlier street music styles such as Galala.

“Mara is Nigeria’s EDM, and we just don’t know that yet,” Abiola said, comparing the movement’s potential with electronic dance music.

The documentary introduces audiences to the DJs, producers and dancers behind the movement. It also explores their creative methods, musical influences and personal ambitions.

By allowing participants to explain their work, Abiola challenges stereotypes that often surround street culture. The film shows that the people developing Mara possess knowledge, discipline and creative intelligence that may be overlooked when outsiders judge them solely by their environment.

Furthermore, the movement’s popularity on social media, including TikTok, has helped introduce its sound and dance culture to new audiences. Some participants have also begun to access international opportunities, suggesting that the movement could develop beyond its original communities.

However, Abiola argues that Nigerians should recognise and support Mara before international exposure becomes the principal measure of its value.

Cultural ownership begins with documentation

For Abiola, documenting Mara is an effort to preserve the movement’s origins and establish a record of the people responsible for its development.

The filmmaker warned that Nigeria could lose control of the narratives surrounding its cultural innovations if it failed to document them while the relevant evidence and participants remained accessible.

Abiola pointed to debates about the origins and ownership of Afrobeats as a reminder of the importance of establishing cultural histories early. The aim, the filmmaker explained, was to identify Mara’s creators and tell the story from the ground up.

This approach recognises that cultural movements rarely emerge from a single individual or event. They develop through communities, experimentation, shared influences and changing social conditions. Documenting those processes helps preserve a fuller account of how a sound or style takes shape.

Nevertheless, cultural ownership involves more than recording names. Researchers and filmmakers must also preserve recordings, dates, locations, interviews and other evidence that can help future audiences understand a movement’s development.

Without such records, later accounts may overlook early contributors or simplify a complex history. Therefore, Abiola’s documentary highlights the importance of recording Nigeria’s cultural experiences while their origins can still be investigated.

Archival barriers make cultural preservation harder

The production of Mara Mania also exposed the difficulties facing Nigerian documentary filmmakers who seek to preserve the country’s history.

Abiola explained that the film required sustained engagement with the Mara community. Rather than conducting a few interviews and leaving, the filmmaker spent time attending dance practices, observing participants and recording their activities before developing the documentary’s narrative.

That process helped reveal the people and experiences essential to the story. However, limited funding and difficulty accessing archival materials restricted the scope of the research.

Abiola said the production relied heavily on direct engagement with the community and available resources because the budget could not support extensive archival investigation.

The filmmaker sees this as a wider problem within Nigeria’s documentary sector. Many producers want to tell important cultural stories but lack the funding, archival access and institutional support needed to conduct comprehensive research.

“There are a lot of filmmakers out there that want to tell stories, but don’t have the resources,” Abiola said, acknowledging the backing that made Mara Mania possible.

The challenge extends beyond money. Filmmakers may also struggle to identify the institutions holding relevant footage or understand the procedures required to obtain access. As a result, useful material can remain inaccessible even when it exists.

Broadcasters & archives must support independent filmmakers

Abiola called on Nigerian television stations to play a more active role in documenting the country’s cultural experiences and opening their archival collections to independent producers.

The filmmaker argued that broadcasters should help amplify stories about the people, communities and movements shaping contemporary Nigeria. Greater access to historical footage and other records, Abiola said, would allow producers to build richer accounts of cultural change.

Moreover, television stations, archives and independent filmmakers could work together to improve the preservation and circulation of historical materials. Clearer access procedures would help researchers understand how to locate and use existing collections.

Such collaboration could also strengthen the documentary industry by reducing the time and cost required to establish basic historical facts. Rather than forcing each production to start from scratch, accessible archives could provide a foundation for more detailed investigation.

Abiola also stressed the importance of encouraging filmmakers through funding and other forms of institutional support. The experience of Mara Mania demonstrates how such backing can help bring an emerging cultural movement to a wider audience.

The documentary took approximately three months to produce, with Abiola crediting the crew, executive producers and the French Embassy in Nigeria for their support. Its first screening took place at Freedom Park in Lagos in November 2025, where the audience included members of the community represented in the film. Subsequent screenings received encouraging responses, and the documentary secured selections at several festivals while further submissions awaited decisions.

Awards can open doors, but sustained support is essential

The recognition of Ifowodo and Abiola demonstrates how prizes can bring attention to work that addresses important aspects of Nigerian society. Yet, the long-term value of such recognition depends partly on whether institutions continue to support the artists and make their work accessible.

For writers, that means opportunities for publication, distribution, reading and discussion. For documentary filmmakers, it includes funding, research support, archival access, screenings and wider distribution.

In Ifowodo’s case, the award gives renewed visibility to a collection that questions religious violence and defends freedom of belief. In Abiola’s case, the prize draws attention to a documentary preserving the people and processes behind an emerging cultural movement.

Both works also challenge the assumption that Nigeria’s stories must first attract international recognition before they receive serious attention at home.

Ultimately, the country’s cultural future depends not only on the creativity of individual artists but also on the institutions that preserve, distribute and support their work. Literary prizes can validate writers, while documentary archives can safeguard the histories of communities whose contributions might otherwise be overlooked.

By investing in both artistic production and cultural preservation, Nigeria can strengthen its ability to tell its own stories. The task is to ensure that religious violence is confronted rather than forgotten, that young creators receive recognition for their innovations, and that future generations inherit a reliable record of the people and experiences that have shaped the nation.