“I’m not British-Nigerian,” Slawn stresses. “People always say that shit. I’m not.”
It’s a label that, to him, feels like a shortcut, glossing over his Lagos roots, just to land all-too neatly right into his life in London, where his career took off. In just a few years, Slawn’s seen a meteoric ascent, with playful pop figures, now signatures across fashion, music and art. But as he tells it over a call, that version of Slawn was always incomplete, or never completely real to begin with: “I don’t want to be Slawn to Nigerians. Slawn’s a foreign figure. A ‘British-Nigerian’ figure of imagination.”
For the first time, the artist born Olaolu Akeredolu-Ale is making a homecoming. On view through February 1, 2026 at Nahous, Lagos’ burgeoning creative hub, Bobo marks a pivotal return after half a decade of global stardom. Titled after his native name reserved for his close friends and family, the show is an attempt to reconsider, and reframe, the man and the myth the world knows as Slawn.
Curated by Nahous’ founder, Richard Vedelago, and TeeZee, a “big brother” and one of the artist’s earliest collaborators, the showcase is a full-circle moment, gathering a personal, era-spanning collection plucked from previous exhibitions. Never-before-seen clown studies, charcoal drawings and black spray paint figurations sit beside one another in a new light, each rich with tones of memory, identity and belonging.
“It’s not about forgetting where I came from. It’s that they never knew me as a Nigerian.”
Contrary to the banner year Slawn’s coming off of, Bobo looks inward rather than forward. “It’s not Slawn coming home; this is my most humble self,” he tells Hypeart. 2025 alone has seen original album artworks for 21 Savage, a Wembley Stadium takeover and a cascade of collaborations, official and otherwise, from the 25-year-old artist. Over the last few, he’s also built a family, now a father of two. Yet success has come at a cost: “It’s not about forgetting where I came from,” he adds. “It’s that they never knew me as a Nigerian.” The pressure is on.
“I can walk around abroad with my chest up, but not there. No way,” he shared. “You can’t front a Nigerian.” For all the bravado of a hometown hero, reception in Lagos weighs heavily on him, and Bobo, by design, doesn’t try to quiet that tension; rather, it carves out the space for it all to sit and savor beside one another, pride and fear, ambition and doubt.
With personal stakes high, the show peels back the spectacle to reveal the artist at, what he describes as, his most personal. He recounts a recent return to Victoria Island, his old skating ground, reckoning with the reality that Slawn the artist had eclipsed the teenager that helped lay the groundwork at WAFFLESNCREAM.
“This was my real ‘fuck it’ era.’ Whatever happens happens — this is Bobo in action.”
It may not be as the skater he once was, but with Bobo, Slawn’s still planting roots back into the city’s up-and-comers. As a part of the opening, he invited 10 Nigerian artists to join him on a single, large-scale painting, with profits split between contributors and art supplies for the community.
In with the new wave of artists, designers and cultural architects in Lagos, comes the city’s long-awaited creative boom, and in full, hard-earned swing, described curator Richard Vedelago, the mind behind Nahous.
A cross between a gallery, concept store, furniture showroom, and bar, the space launched earlier this year inside the historic Federal Palace Hotel and has already found its grounds as a steward within Lagos’ cultural ecosystem. “We’ve been fighting for this,” Vedelago added. “[Slawn's] not just coming home because he’s succeeded abroad; he’s coming home to add value to where we are today.”
Tense over the show, Slawn scrambles to book a flight while on the phone, only to find London to Lagos one-ways sold out, a first for him, another reflection of the city’s mounting creative momentum. Above the jitters and the pressure to impress, though, is an oddly fitting chaos for the artist, the same kind of serendipity, leap of faith, that admittedly fuels most of his moves. “Everything in my life is random and rushed,” he explains. “That’s when I know it’s the right time to do it; that’s when I press the gas.”
“This was my real ‘fuck it’ era,” Slawn continues. “Whatever happens happens — this is Bobo in action.”
