When Two Worlds Collide

Hey, Sheriff here 👋 

This week, like every other one, I’m here to ask you a question.

Why does an “artwork” of a banana taped to the wall sell for $6.2 million, when a masterpiece sitting in mainland Lagos sells for $30?

In today’s edition of Tech Safari, we’ll explore the world of African art and how tech is taking it to new heights.

Let’s get into it…

What makes a piece of art worth anything?

A painting can sit in a gallery for 100 years, barely noticed.

Then one story—one moment—can make it priceless.

Take the Mona Lisa.

It wasn’t always the most famous painting in the world.

For centuries, it hung quietly in the Louvre, like just another portrait.

Then in 1911, it got stolen. The media frenzy was instant.

By the time it returned, it had become world-famous.

Time and storytelling helped the Mona Lisa explode in value.

But what happens when great art doesn’t get the spotlight?

What happens when it’s not the talent that’s missing, but the access?

Let’s talk about stolen artwork. This time, from Africa.

The 10,000 stolen heads

In 2015, a 200-year-old bronze sculpture from the Benin Kingdom sold for £10 million in the UK.

Sounds great, right? Except that’s not the most interesting thing about it.

The sculpture was stolen in a bloody raid in colonial Nigeria back in 1897. 

And it’s just one of 10,000 other stolen sculptures, collectively worth tens of millions of dollars today.

Some of the other sculptures have also been sold to private collectors for millions.

Now here’s the twist.

Stolen African sculptures from centuries ago can make bank, but today, African artists struggle to make a living.

And it’s not for lack of quality, because…

The Benin Bronzes aren’t a fluke

You might think the Benin Bronzes are just a one-off in African history. 

But you’d be wrong.

Africa’s history is filled with rich, fascinating artworks, mostly done on a societal scale.

And they go way back.

There are Yoruba bronze heads from Ife that date back 1,000 years.

There are memory boards from the Luba Kingdom (in ancient Congo) that encode ancient stories in bumps on a board that look like Braille.

And we have breathtaking Terra Cotta sculptures that predate Christ.

But while Africa’s past is filled with great art, so is its present.

African artists like Kehinde Wiley make presidential portraits that steal the world’s heart.

And he’s won many awards for it, from a Medal of Arts by the US Department of State to an art knighthood in France.

Here’s the thing, though: Kehinde’s talent isn’t rare among Africans. But his success is very much so.

Today, a street painter in Lagos can make originals that would make Picasso weep. 

In the heat of Lagos, artists like this barely make $30 for each original. 

But across the world, they could make bank.

And it brings us back to the original question…

What makes art worth anything?

We’ve talked about timing and storytelling. 

But not every great painting comes with a heist story.

Art consultant Williamson McKay has another theory about artistic value. 

He calls it the "3 Ns": Nuance, Novelty, Narrative.

• Nuance is how hard it is to make a piece of art

• Novelty is how new or original it is

• Narrative is the story it tells

And together, they’re a good lens to answer the question.

African art passes this test every single time.

The nuance? Centuries of technique passed down through generations. Colours that tell rich, deep stories.

The novelty? Some of these artworks involved metalworking skills that used brass and iron. Some Africans use natural materials like charcoal to make hyperrealistic images.

The narrative? Stories of kingdoms, struggles, celebrations, and myths that could fill libraries, and sometimes do.

But he was missing a fourth N: Network.

While African art passes the test of the three N’s, access isn’t always a given.

Even the Benin Bronzes had to be stolen to get global acclaim.

Artistic talent isn’t scarce in Africa. But access is.

Imagine being Michelangelo, but the Catholic Church doesn’t know you.

And the Sistine Chapel is locked behind a glass fence. 

You have the skills, the vision, the genius. But the gatekeepers don't have your phone number.

For decades, that's been the African artist's reality.

And without the network, storytelling won’t matter much, because the stories can’t go where they’ll be rewarded.

But then came the internet

In 2017, a Gabonese artist named Yannis Guibinga hosted a solo exhibition in Moscow.

But just some years earlier, he was a young artist taking experimental photos in Libreville and sharing his work online.

And it blew up, thanks to Tumblr and Instagram.

The more art he shared, the more fans he got.

By 2021, he’d gotten so popular that The Economist wrote about him.

And since then, he has worked with global brands such as Apple, Nikon, and many more.

But Yannis is not a one-off.

In 2021, the same year he blew up, NFTs became the rage. 

They’re a way to prove ownership of digital media like art, books, and soundbites using blockchains.

This changed the game in the art world.

Suddenly, artists no longer needed gallery owners in Chelsea to validate their work.

They didn't need collectors in Geneva to discover them.

They just needed Wi-Fi, talent, and a dream.

And they used them to get more for their work.

And this time, African artists weren’t locked out.

So they went global, without breaking down gallery doors halfway across the world.

Like Anthony Azekwoh.

In 2019, he was a struggling photographer in Nigeria, grinding away in obscurity. 

Traditional galleries wouldn't touch his work. Local collectors didn't understand his vision.

When COVID hit, he discovered digital art.

He started tokenising his art, building a community online, and telling his story directly to the world.

His first drop earned him more in a week than many local artists make in years.

Then one of his pieces, The Red Man, sold for over $25,000. 

Today, he’s exploring 3D sculpting and runs the Rosemary Fund, where he supports emerging African artists blending art, tech, and storytelling.

For the first time in history, African artists could truly own their work and the upside. 

Access no longer puts up such a huge challenge.

By 2022, the value of auction sales of African art had doubled from $101 million to $197 million.

And by 2024, online-only sales accounted for 80% of the lots sold by many Africa-focused auction houses.

The real game is now about talent…and a good deal of storytelling.

And this is all part of a bigger trend

African art is becoming a cultural export

Want a preview of where this is going?

Look at Afrobeats.

In 2019, a relatively unknown Nigerian artist, CKay, dropped Love Nwantiti. Nothing major.

Then, two years later, the TikTok effect happened: it went viral.

The song went viral. Dance videos. Wedding montages. Remixes in 6 languages.

Three billion streams later, CKay was a global star.

But it meant something even bigger: it was the start of a movement.

Afrobeats reached new global audiences. 

And once the door was open, artists like Fireboy, Asake, and Tems waltzed through.

The same thing is happening to African visual art, fashion, and film. 

These forms of African media are finding new audiences and creating new tastes, all centered around African creators.

Why? Because of the internet.

For the first time in modern history, African creativity is starting to scale on its own terms.

No gatekeepers. No watered-down versions.

Just raw, original expression—and the global platforms to share it on.

In a decade, the world will be more African in headcount.

But so will its music, movies, memes, art, and its culture.

What do you think about the impact of tech on African art?

That’s it for this week. See you on Sunday for a breakdown on This Week in African Tech.

Cheers,

The Tech Safari Team

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