Naija Poetry Fest 2.0, held on March 21, 2025, at the Alliance Francaise/Mike Adenuga Centre in Ikoyi, was a memorable occasion, commemorating World Poetry Day. Convened by Godson Osarenren, the event celebrated the art of poetry, with several poets receiving awards for their remarkable contributions. In this feature, Newsdirect shines a spotlight on the unique poetic styles and inspiring performances of some of the standout poets, including Lanre Sonde and Ovie Mac Solomon, whose flows captivated audiences and left a lasting impression

By Amarachukwu Chimeka

In today’s fast-moving age, dominated by digital excess and fleeting visual trends, slowing down to notice the ordinary has almost become an out-of-place occurrence. We move from trend to trend, such that those who bother to be aware of themselves and their environment can almost be termed “rebels”. This would be why Silent Witnesses and Sonder with Sonde stand out. They emerge as layered explorations of human connection, memory, and collective resilience, especially for Nigerians in Nigeria. Both works assert themselves to be both artistic statements and social meditation.

The word, “Sonder” is a neologism that refers to the feeling of realising that everyone, including strangers, has a complex life as one’s own. It is the awareness that each person is the central character in their own story, with others playing secondary roles. The word has its origins in both French and German. It was coined in 2012 by US writer, John Koenig, in his blog The Dictionary of Obscure. This complexity of life and humanness is reflected in all the poems in Sonder with Sonde as well as in the album Silent Witnesses. 

The opening lines of “Like a Butterfly” in Sonder with Sonde aptly puts this into perspective.

“We can’t lose ourselves

Our world may be torn apart”

Calmly, the poems all deliver on the collection’s promise, which is to be “A poetic exploration of the human condition.” The collection does not merely illustrate that concept; it embodies it. In the same breath, Ovie Mac Solomon’s Silent Witnesses becomes the philosophical mirror to this project — or perhaps, its spiritual predecessor. The album takes us into the lived experience of Shangisha, Lagos, Nigeria. Not with spectacle, but with quiet reverence, the artist photographs spaces that were once bustling, now crumbling, allowing their very decay to speak of the people, time, and the textures they once held. These spaces are more than remnants of architecture. They are, as the photographer notes, “silent witnesses to its past”. They are beyond physical expressions of architecture in Lagos, they speak to the shared experiences of living in Lagos. Hence, silent witness becomes a motif, the subtle observer of life’s unfolding, an embodiment of the unwritten nuances of life in Lagos.

Both Silent Witnesses and Sonder with Sonde thrive in a territory that is intimate, introspective, and liminal. Solomon’s photographs pair perfectly with Sonde’s poems of “complex” people caught in moments of stillness, half-shadowed, leaning into or away from one another, often facing the camera with a vulnerability that is both unsettling and affirming. Collectively, both paint pictures that are far from being performative images. They are not trying to sell you fantasy. They are asking you to stop and see, deeply and slowly.

Memory, Decay, and the Architecture of the Soul

Solomon’s approach to memory and decay is rooted in texture, the physical texture (of crumbling cement, peeling paint, sun-faded signs) and emotional texture (loss, resilience, nostalgia). He writes, “Once lively, these structures have been overtaken by nature or left to the slow march of time.” And yet, what emerges is not a sense of abandonment, but continuity. The buildings remain. They endure. They watch.

“Hidden Colours” mirrors this act of witnessing. In this poem, the human portraits, who are the subjects, “find protection from the walls we have built/ in graffiti, in murals and mosaics,” like the decaying buildings in Silent Witnesses. Hence, these buildings carry visible histories. Their bodies – their postures, expressions, and silences – are then archives. The idea of being “overtaken” by time does not denote defeat, but transformation. The body, like the building, remains standing, even if cracked. There is dignity in erosion, a power in what survives.

One of the most poignant dimensions of Sonder with Sonde is how it documents not grand narratives, but fragmented moments – glances, gestures, bodily nearness. These fragments echo the idea that memory itself is often incomplete, composed of flashes and sensations. So, in “Like a Butterfly”, the poet insists that “We are an extension of our race/ Our people, our culture/ We are what is left of home.”  Like Solomon’s crumbling structures, the people in these photographs carry with them the layered sediment of experience – what has been built, what has fallen, and what remains!

Stillness as Resistance

In both collections, stillness is not passivity. It is resistance. It is the refusal to be hurried into forgetting, into ignoring. Solomon’s abandoned structures force the viewer to consider history’s long shadow. In Sonder with Sonde, “We Found Paradise” invites viewers to reckon with the emotions of others, as according to “in unity, we share our strength.” There is an ethic to this work, an insistence that looking is not neutral and that to see is to participate in another’s interiority.

In an era defined by speed, these works decelerate our pace. They re-teach us how to look. In Sonder with Sonde, this looking often centres on the communal –  figures huddled close, heads resting on shoulders, backs turned together in quiet solidarity. The composition resists isolation, even when figures appear alone. There is always an implied presence, a sense that the viewer is not looking at an individual but into the fabric of a shared emotional reality. Thus, “We don’t crave a Utopia or Elysium/ or become discovered artefacts/ on a museum’s glass case/ To live freely is our realised dream/ We find paradise on the ground.”

Solomon’s philosophy as stated in his exhibition text echoes this: “I aim to provoke reflection and reveal the beauty hidden in the everyday.” That mission resonates throughout Sonder with Sonde. The images do not demand spectacle. They invite meditation. They ask you to find beauty not in perfection, but in consistency, like the texture of a wrinkled shirt, a cracked wall, or a glance caught mid-turn.

Text and Image: The Poetic Turn

The integration of poetry in Sonder with Sonde, especially the anchoring poem, “We Found Paradise”, amplifies the visual experience. It is not merely decorative. It is declarative. The poem redefines paradise not as a far-off utopia, but as something rooted in the now. “The notion of broken pieces coming together to form a whole,” the poem says, is a metaphor not only for healing but for the curatorial vision itself. Paradise is not distant. It is a process. It is present; it is built – together.

This is where Sonder with Sonde becomes more than an exhibition. It becomes a manifesto. A gentle one, yes –but a manifesto, nonetheless. It speaks up for the value of ordinary lives. It declares that community, memory, and vulnerability are not only subjects of art; they are their soul.

Solomon’s exploration of “culture, identity, and human connection” through “textures and conceptual imagery” is mirrored here not just in technique but in spirit. Both collections reflect a deep commitment to representation, not in the tokenistic sense, but in the philosophical one. To represent someone – a face, a memory, a decayed building – is to honour its existence.

The Political in the Poetic

Though neither Solomon nor Sonde make overtly political statements, the work is deeply political in its quietness. In a world saturated with noise, amplification, and conflict, this turn inward – toward tenderness, memory, and shared pain – is a subtle and ordinary but radical gesture.

Silent Witnesses’ depiction of Shangisha is not wrapped in pity or romanticism. It is truthful. It shows what is, what was, and what might still be. Likewise, Sonder with Sonde resists exoticizing its subjects. It does not aestheticize suffering or offer trauma as currency. Instead, it offers presence. It offers a shared breath.

And in this way, both bodies of work reclaim narratives that are often misrepresented, underrepresented, or ignored entirely. They remind us that beauty exists, not despite brokenness but often because of it. 

Closing Reflections: Art as Witness

Ultimately, Sonder with Sonde and Silent Witnesses offer us profound gifts, like the opportunity to witness, to see with clarity, to feel with nuance, and to slow down long enough to remember that everyone – every building, everybody, every silence – has a story.

In Solomon’s words, “Through these elements, I aim to provoke reflection.” And that is precisely what both collections achieve. They provoke reflection not through grandeur but through intimacy, not through drama but through depth.

Our world today often demands polished narratives, filtered realities, and digestible truths. These works of art push back against that pressure. They offer complexity, contradiction, and truth. This may be why Sonder with Sonde is so fascinating. It is more than a mere series of photographs; it is a living archive, a breathing body, a collective memory. It is best described as a communal whisper that says, “We are here. We have been here. We are worthy of being seen.”

Solomon’s quiet stewardship of time and texture continues to shine light on the overlooked, the abandoned, the quietly enduring. His visions of memory housed in ruin and of stories told through stillness serves as a guiding light for projects like Sonder with Sonde, reminding us that the most powerful witnesses are often the ones who remain silent but never invisible.