Continuing his engagement with national issues through miniature formats, Buhari developed the Nepa series in 2008 during his Sabbatical Leave at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka. This body of work reflects on Nigeria’s longstanding electricity crisis. In one notable piece measuring 80 x 40 cm, the paper is divided into smaller grids, visually alluding to the structure of electrical grids. While the entire composition forms a unified narrative about the politics of power (both electrical and metaphorical), each individual box within the grid explores specific challenges such as broken wires, vandalised meters, and compromised infrastructure. This series marked a conceptual bridge to his subsequent miniature works showcased in the Jápa exhibition, where themes of migration, frustration, and socio-economic disillusionment are further explored.
Japa, a term rooted in Yorùbá language, has evolved into a widely used Nigerian slang word that encapsulates the act of fleeing or escaping swiftly. While its usage predates popular culture, Japa gained significant traction among Nigerian youths. Japa’s popularisation within youth culture coincided with broader national anxieties over economic hardship, political instability, and limited opportunities, making the term a cultural shorthand for the aspiration to migrate abroad. This socio-linguistic relevance was formally recognised on 8th January 2025, when the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) officially added Japa (/ˈdʒɑːpə/) to its lexicon.
In the main gallery space, ten textile-based works from the Jápa series are displayed – the eight smaller works measuring approximately 78 x 53 cm. While compositionally consistent, the pieces exhibit distinct aesthetic variations, allowing them to be experienced either as a continuous visual sequence or as standalone narratives. Each work is designed to be read vertically, from bottom to top, reinforcing a symbolic journey through layered geographies.
The lower sections are dominated by brown clusters of circular fabric forms, representing groups of Africans in flight – anonymous yet collectively burdened. The middle sections shift into hues of blue, evoking the turbulent waters of the Mediterranean Sea, a critical and dangerous passage in the migration journey. The upper portions of the compositions transition to green, symbolising Europe and, by extension, the Americas and other imagined lands of opportunity sought by African migrants. The chromatic coding – brown, blue, green – creates a visual map of dislocation, peril, and aspiration.
Buhari’s use of round, coloured scrap fabrics speaks to the global and cyclical nature of migration, highlighting both its ubiquity and its emotional texture. Photocopied fragments of maps, including portions of North Africa, the Mediterranean Sea, and European countries, are integrated into the textile surface, grounding the abstract composition in geographic specificity. Black ink marks made with the artist’s index finger punctuate the fabric – personalised symbols of passage that reference border crossings, biometric surveillance, and the physical act of movement across territories.
In the two larger works Jápa as explorers (2025) measuring 150 x 80cm and We are all Jápa (2025), 150 x 200cm, Buhari introduced more defined coastlines and islands repositioning the migrant not as a victim, but as an explorer, drawing a parallel with historic European voyages of exploration. The lines in the painting represent the complex pathways of the migrants. These pathways were also included inside water as well to give it a sense of restlessness. Black and white copies of the Map of the migration route were produced and collaged on the fabric. The artist then proceeded to cut pieces of places like Libya, Malta, Italy, Spain – frontline countries on the migration route, and place them on the canvas. After this, he proceeded to use the brown, blue and green colour scheme that represents North Africa, Mediterranean Sea and Europe. The upper picture planes in green hues are imbued with stones to represent light, and enhance the dreams and desires of the migrant. On another level, the artist seeks to engage each of us into this conversation that is our common human experience. We are all Jápa citizens. Each one of us as individuals, family, and friends are “Jápa-ing” constantly physically, mentally, emotionally and even spiritually seeking for meaning in life, seeking for more comfortable and safe places.
Maintaining the brown, blue and green palette used throughout the Jápa series, Buhari symbolises North Africa, the Mediterranean Sea, and Europe and by extension other places that hold promise for better living, respectively. This layered composition functions as a visual narrative – part map, part fabric, and part text – transforming the canvas into a journal-like portrait of migration. Unlike the more intimate miniature series, this larger format employs a bird’s-eye perspective, referencing both surveillance technologies and the depersonalisation of migrant identities. Figures appear small and fragile – like ants or worms – underscoring the vast, data-driven scope of modern migration and its global resonance.
The fourteen miniature works featured in the Jápa exhibition (Gallery 2) represent another dimension to the exhibition. Conceived to be experienced within an intimate, reflective setting – such as a study – they encourage viewers to closely engage with them on a personal level. These pieces represent the artist’s meditative exploration of Jápa not merely as a cultural phenomenon, but as an internal, lived experience. Viewers are invited to interpret the recurring motifs, symbols, and imagery that evoke the migrant experience. These include figures bearing luggage, overcrowded boats and canoes, footprints signifying movement, and imprints of palms – symbols of human presence and identity. Elements that construct a quiet yet poignant commentary on the psychological and physical dimensions of migration.
The sub-series titled Personal landscape I–VI (2024) reflects the artist’s internal struggles with the potential emigration of his own children from Nigeria. In In the valley of decision I–III (2024), the Mediterranean Sea becomes the setting for a haunting portrayal of the migrant experience. These works are rendered with bluish backgrounds, where grotesque figures appear to float in a dreamlike or trance-like state – evoking a sense of disembodiment, suspended movement and a collective sense of fear, vulnerability, and isolation. While the space appears crowded, each figure seems emotionally alone, highlighting the paradox of migration as both a shared and solitary journey.
The concluding sub-series, Migrant’s dream of green lands I–V (2024), shifts toward a more romanticised vision of migration. Here, Buhari captures the moment when the migrant embarks on their journey – whether at the edge of the sea or the Sahara Desert. This is the point at which the dream of a better life begins. In these works, Europe is rendered in shades of green, symbolising hope and prosperity, while the departure zones are painted in brown, representing hardship, desolation, and the emotional toll of leaving one’s homeland.
Just as Jacob Lawrence drew inspiration from West African oral traditions – where storytelling serves as a conduit between past, present, and future, Jerry Buhari assumes the role of the contemporary West African storyteller. As both a visual artist and educator at Ahmadu Bello University in Zaria, Buhari continues this oral tradition, whether within formal academic settings, or in more communal, informal spaces such as beneath the Baobab trees of Zaria. Whereas Lawrence’s oeuvre engaged with historical themes of struggle, Buhari addresses present-day challenges, particularly those surrounding migration, in the West African context.
The International Organisation for Migration (IOM) has reported that over 30,513 people have died attempting to cross the Mediterranean Sea since 2013. The Sea has become both hope and a graveyard. This staggering figure accounts for more than 50% of all migrant deaths globally. In Panel 60 of The Migration Series (1940-1941), the American artist Jacob Lawrence poignantly writes, “And the migrants kept coming.” Reflecting on Jerry Buhari’s Jápa series (2025), one might equally assert: “And the migrants kept drowning.”
