Andy Okoroafor An Imagist’s Truth

Andy Okoroafor is not your typical filmmaker, imagist, or artist. And he prefers it that way. Known for his philosophical approach to image-making and his refusal to conform to labels, the Paris-based Nigerian creative sees design as a path to truth and self-awareness. In this encounter with Vanessa Obioha, he reflects on his body of work and how his deep-rooted sense of identity fuels a unique visual language grounded in authenticity and cultural pride

The first time we met was at the iREP International Documentary Film Festival. We were briefly introduced before he joined the festival’s executive director, Femi Odugbemi, on stage for a new segment, In-Conversation.

It was one of those rare moments when Andy Okoroafor sat for an interview.

“He rarely grants interviews,” Odugbemi shared, having known Okoroafor for over two decades. Their long-standing relationship and shared passion for filmmaking formed the basis of their conversation, including Okoroafor’s 2010 feature debut ‘Relentless,’ which starred Nollywood actor Gideon Okeke, as well as his upcoming project on legendary artist and architect Demas Nwoko.

As the two exchanged ideas, Okoroafor’s distinct personality emerged. He projects the image of an outlier—equal parts maverick and humanist. He resists being labelled an artist, despite a portfolio that includes creative direction, imagery, design, and filmmaking. Even when a member of the audience asked about his reluctance, Okoroafor held his ground.

“It’s okay for anyone to call me an artist,” he told me a few days ago when we caught up via a phone call. “I prefer my work to speak for me.”

It was briefly argued that the nuances between an artist and his creations could make it difficult to separate the two. Then the conversation continued.

“It depends on how you look at it,” he said. “An artist is the definition of a profession. I’m a humanist. I like people a lot. It just happens that I like images and to be an imagist makes you fall into the category of an artist. But I’m just a guy from Umuahia who has done a lot of work with famous people all over the world. I like to create ideas and see them happen. But that can be separated from the kind of life an artist lives. He may be married with four children or not. In essence, an artist and his creations can be intertwined but they can also be separate. And that’s why it’s art because that’s what art does.”

Born in Bauchi in 1966, the Paris-based creative left for France to study and later became one of the most sought-after art directors. In the 1990s, he worked with top fashion brands and eventually transitioned into music video production, collaborating with artists and brands such as Xuly-Bët, Jean Paul Gaultier, Kookaï, Virgin and Nigerian singer Nneka. During his work with Virgin, he brought Australian-British singer Natalie Imbruglia to Kano for a foundation project with young girls affected by vesicovaginal fistula (VVF).

With ‘Relentless,’ Okoroafor returned to his Nigerian roots, intent on reimagining African cinema for a global audience. Influenced by Japanese and French cinema, he still draws inspiration from African filmmakers like the renowned Nigerian cinematographer Tunde Kelani. He currently serves as the creative director of Africa Day at the Zushi Beach Film Festival in Japan—an initiative aimed at presenting a truer image of Africa to Japanese audiences.

As an imagist, Okoroafor is inspired by people, places, and things. He is currently writing about Colombia, a country often portrayed through the lens of narcotics. But for him, there’s more to the nation than stereotypes. His films, he says, must be personal and authentic—rooted in experience, not tropes.

“I do images of things that I want to see but don’t see,” he said. “They come from things I’ve studied or memories.”

He cited ‘Relentless’ as an example.

“People said Lagos was dangerous. So, I made a film about Lagos nightlife.”

This belief is central to his philosophy: design is what brings authenticity to films. However, he argued that design is often neglected because many environments aren’t built to support cultural authenticity. As a result, people emulate foreign cultures and abandon their own.

“It’s okay to adopt other cultures,” he said, “but it must come from a place of authenticity. If you don’t have that, you can’t design in a way that fits who you are.”

To design authentically, Okoroafor noted that one must be rooted in their identity. That grounding allows for the creation of sustainable structures the world can respect—rather than always chasing Hollywood’s standard. He called that mindset “willing slavery.”

“The most important freedom is freedom to be and speak your own truth.”

In film, this begins with the angle the camera is placed.

“What does it say? What kind of image do you want to show?  You can design all those things and have a certain authenticity that is yours. Authenticity is extremely important to me.  I design the things that nobody can do except me. I designed things that are so authentic to myself, to my experience, to my knowledge, to my worldview, that nobody else can do it.”

From a philosophical angle, Okoroafor believes design makes people more self-aware and more selfless.

“When we design, we think more about others. Like when designing a phone—you consider how the end-user will interact with it, whether they’re left-handed, and so on.”

For his upcoming documentary on Demas Nwoko, authenticity is key.

“I want to be honest with myself. I want it to be my film—how I see him, how I respect him, and how I want the world to see him. He was radical and didn’t make compromises. I want to reflect that.”

Another project is Ogene, a fictional production inspired by the energy of southeastern Nigerian youths. Though not a musical, it uses music to reflect youth vibrancy.

“Ogene also shows how design makes your work authentic—using sound without making a musical.”

This same philosophy guided Clam Magazine, where he introduced Nsibidi, an ancient southeastern script, into the magazine’s design. Subject names were translated into nsibidi, and the symbols have since appeared on T-shirts and other merchandise worldwide.

The day we spoke, Okoroafor was in Umuahia, Abia State—his ancestral home and a place of deep significance. His parents, Marcus Okoroafor and Mercy Emezue, found refuge there during the Civil War and remain his guiding lights.

“Our biggest problem is that we lack self-awareness. We don’t know who we are. What has saved me all my life is who I am. That’s why my parents are so important to me because they gave me a sense of who I am. Whether I’m living in a palace or under the bridge, I know who I am.”

It was in Umuahia that he first saw them listen to shortwave radio—an experience that sparked his imagination. Today, it is his retreat, a place where he can commune with nature and locals.

“It is also important to have a base for your art. It doesn’t necessarily have to be physical, it can be spiritual, philosophical or psychological,” he added.

Okoroafor is so rooted in his heritage that Clam Magazine lists Umuahia as its address, and its logo—modelled after his parents’ shortwave radio—was created there.

Each issue of Clam explores a theme. The next will focus on time, with artists worldwide offering their interpretations.

Each issue of Clam explores a theme. The next will focus on time, with artists worldwide offering their interpretations.

“Time is so essential to creativity. Whether it’s faster or longer, it is a central point of creativity. The time you spend thinking or working on a project is important. The same applies to memory. Memory makes my work valuable, it helps me stay true to myself.”

Today, Okoroafor sees himself in a stage of transmission, intent on mentoring the next generation and dying empty, much like Karl Lagerfeld, the late German fashion designer and photographer.

“When I die, I want to be remembered for my work, its impact, and the people I mentored.”