Muniba Ahmad Maiwada’s Contemporary Vision of the Durbar

Sometimes, the most compelling artistic discoveries are made not by looking far and wide, but by looking more closely at what has always been there.

The vibrant colours of a festival. The intricate folds of a flowing gown. The careful wrapping of a turban. The richly adorned horses moving through the streets. When you grow up surrounded by these things, it becomes easy to overlook them. Familiarity has a way of making beauty invisible.

For artist Muniba Ahmad Maiwada, however, paying closer attention to the familiar has transformed not only her artistic practice but also the way she understands her own culture.

Through her contemporary textured paintings inspired by the Durbar, Muniba has found a language that bridges tradition and modernity. Her work reimagines one of Northern Nigeria’s most iconic cultural celebrations while inviting audiences far beyond its borders to engage with it. In the process, she discovered something unexpected that the stories closest to home often have the greatest power to travel.

Can you introduce yourself and tell us a little about your journey into art?

My name is Muniba Ahmad Maiwada, and art has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. I grew up drawing and painting, and I believe I inherited that passion from my mother, who has always been an artist herself. I can’t point to a specific moment when I started making art because it’s something I’ve always done. But I began taking it seriously as a career in 2020 during the lockdown, and that was when my artistic journey truly began.

Today, your work combines abstraction, texture, and contemporary painting. How did you arrive at this style?

In the beginning, I experimented with everything. I painted whatever came to mind or whatever inspired me online. When I started considering art as a career, I focused on creating work that I thought people would enjoy or be willing to buy. That was how I found my way into textured and abstract art.

Over time, though, I realised I wanted to create something that also felt personal, something that belonged to me. That desire eventually led me to develop my contemporary style and find my own artistic voice.

Your Durbar Reimagined series introduced many people to your work. What inspired it?

I discovered my current artistic style last year, and I began asking myself how I could merge it with my culture. I wanted to translate something deeply rooted in my identity into my own visual language.

The Durbar Reimagined series became that opportunity. I started it as an experiment to see whether my style could successfully tell these cultural stories, and it resonated more than I expected. It brought a new audience to my work and introduced many people to what I was creating.

Growing up in Northern Nigeria, the Durbar is almost impossible to miss. Whether during Eid celebrations, weddings, or other important occasions, it’s something you’re bound to encounter.

Although I’m actually afraid of horses, I’ve always been captivated by everything surrounding the Durbar, the performances, the elaborate decorations, the clothing, and especially the incredible colours. To me, it’s one of the most powerful expressions of Hausa culture.

As someone who is Hausa, why is it important for you to tell these stories through your own perspective?

I feel a responsibility to tell these stories because they’re part of who I am. I’ve seen many artists depict Hausa culture, and while I appreciate their work, I sometimes feel there’s a different level of understanding that comes from living the culture yourself. For some, it’s something they’ve admired or experienced briefly.

For me, it’s something I’ve grown up with. That personal connection allows me to approach it differently. Using my own artistic style is also intentional. I want the Durbar to reach audiences beyond Nigeria. Even if it’s not widely recognised internationally today, I believe it’s my responsibility as an artist to help introduce it to the world.

Butterflies appear throughout your paintings. What do they represent?

For me, butterflies represent freedom. They symbolise the freedom to embrace your culture, celebrate it, and express it openly. Not everyone has the opportunity to experience or practise their culture freely, so that idea is important in my work. I often paint them in contrasting colours because they reflect the vibrant energy of the Durbar itself. It’s impossible to ignore. Even from a distance, if you see someone dressed in full Durbar attire, you’re naturally drawn towards them.

When you’re at the Durbar, what do you notice as an artist?

Colour is always the first thing that captures my attention. I’m fascinated by the contrast between colours, the flowing forms of the gowns, and the many different styles of turbans. Each group wears its turbans differently, and each design carries its own identity. I became so interested in these details that I began researching the colours commonly associated with the Durbar.

While there are many colours, certain ones appear repeatedly in rich, vibrant shades of purple, pink, red, green, blue and yellow. Those colours have become an important part of my visual language.

What would you like to explore further within the context of the Durbar?

I’m especially interested in learning more about the traditional titles and what they represent. One of the reasons each painting in the series features different colours is because I want every piece to represent a different group within the Durbar procession. Each royal household and title such as the Makama or the Hakimi has its own colours, symbols and identity.

If you pay close attention during the Durbar, every group arrives together carrying placards with their family names, dressed in coordinated colours and designs. I want to continue researching those histories so my work can become even richer and more accurate.

What do you hope your work contributes to the way Northern Nigeria is seen?

I want people to discover a side of Northern Nigeria they may never have encountered before. I know I can only contribute in my own small way, but I hope my work encourages people to appreciate our culture, understand it more deeply, and perhaps even want to experience it for themselves someday.

Has creating the Durbar Reimagined series changed your own relationship with your culture?

Absolutely. There was a time when I didn’t think I wanted to create culturally inspired work at all. But once I started this series and saw how people responded to it, I realised that our stories genuinely resonate with audiences around the world. People are interested in what we have here in Africa.

Internationally, conversations about Nigerian culture often focus on Yoruba and Igbo traditions. Northern artists are still relatively underrepresented. That made me realise we have a responsibility to tell our own stories and ensure they’re part of the global conversation.

There can sometimes be a feeling that putting yourself online means you’re being “too out there,” particularly within our cultural context. As a Muslim woman, how have you navigated that?

For a long time, I preferred to stay behind my work. I only used my profile picture so people would know there was a real person behind the page. Earlier this year, I asked myself a simple question: What has staying hidden actually done for me? The answer was nothing. So I decided to put myself out there and see what would happen.

The difference was immediate. Before then, most of the people engaging with my work were those who already knew me. But after I shared the first painting from the Durbar series and showed more of myself alongside my work, I reached thousands of new people. It made me realise that people don’t only connect with the artwork; they also want to connect with the artist behind it. Building that trust has been an important part of my journey.

Finally, what do you hope fellow Northerners feel when they see your work?

I hope they feel inspired to embrace their culture with pride and to share it confidently with the world.

Sometimes, because of stereotypes, some Hausa people hesitate to identify strongly with their culture or even say they’re Hausa. I hope my work encourages people to reconnect with their roots and see the beauty in where they come from.

I’ve had so many people reach out to me because of this series, and if my work can inspire even more people to tell their own cultural stories, then I feel I’ve accomplished something meaningful.