Redressing a Cringe-worthy Monumental Sacrilege
Concerted efforts are currently being made to salvage the aesthetic integrity of a Ben Enwonwu’s bronze sculpture adorning a public space in Onitsha after a ham-fisted restoration attempt raised hackles among the cognoscenti. Okechukwu Uwaezuoke reports
Apparently, the uproar trailing his ill-advised, albeit well-intentioned, attempt to restore a public sculpture, compelled the Onitsha North Local Government chairman, Amalunweze Tony Nwora, to acknowledge that the buck ended at his table. In his zeal to beautify the city, he unwittingly unleashed a creative catastrophe—the defacement of Ben Enwonwu’s iconic 1964 sculpture of Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe, a hard-to-ignore landmark that has adorned the popular DMGS Roundabout in Onitsha for generations.
The irony is poignant: a quest for beauty yielded a blot on the city’s cultural heritage. “The idea behind painting the monument was to project and present to the world an image of the sage in his full Onitsha Ndichie regalia but valid concerns raised by knowledgeable individuals [have] led to a reversal of this action,” a Facebook post, dated January 15, 2025 and signed by Ezennia Nonso Chukwudebe, explained.
If the bright idea—whoever owned the patent—to unwittingly vandalise the public sculpture, in the name of painting or “restoring” it, didn’t warrant recommending a crash course in art history and cultural sensitivity to the perpetrators, then what else would? This, after all, is a treasured work that was unveiled even before the then esteemed Obi of Onitsha, Igwe Joseph Okwudịlị Ọnyejekwe, deemed Azikiwe worthy to be appointed as an “ọnye ichie.”
No doubt, the fact that the beautification and restoration project went as far as slathering the sculpture with paint—and the wrong colours, to boot—was a bold move, indeed, but it was not exactly the kind of boldness the average cognoscenti would be excited about. Nor would the Nigerian art legend Ben Enwonwu, celebrated for his pioneering work in modern African art, have found this assault on his work funny.
Besides raising hackles, the bizarre decision to so generously douse a bronze sculpture in a public space with coatings of paint also begs the question: what could the perpetrators have possibly been thinking? Bronze sculptures, aficionados would aver, are, by their very nature, averse to such intrusions. In fact, slathering them with paints is a recipe for disaster, threatening to damage the metal, erase the patina, distort the artist’s vision, raise conservation alarms, and commit aesthetic sacrilege. And what adds a further layer of sacrilege to this artistic atrocity is that the defaced sculpture is the handiwork of the revered Ben Enwonwu—one that celebrates another Onitsha son, the illustrious Nnamdi Azikiwe.
A quick rewind to October 1, 1960. Nigeria was basking in the euphoria of its independence from British colonial rule. The air was electric with the promise of a new era. The nation’s heart swelled with pride, and the demand for public artworks that celebrated its rich cultural heritage surged. For Ben Enwonwu, Nigeria’s chief cultural officer at the time, it was an opportune moment to weave his artistic magic. Among his series of artworks that celebrated Nigeria’s newfound independence was the iconic bronze portrait of Nnamdi Azikiwe, the country’s first president. Azikiwe himself reportedly sat for the official sculpture portrait in Enwonwu’s London studio, imbuing the artwork with a sense of history and gravitas.
Is it, therefore, any surprise that Oliver Enwonwu, scion of the legendary Ben Enwonwu and executive director of the Ben Enwonwu Foundation, deemed this ham-fisted restoration project an attempt to erase a piece of Nigeria’s rich cultural heritage? He decried it as nothing short of “a devaluation of a national monument and symbol of our unity and independence from Great Britain.”
His resentment of the audacity of those who dared tamper with the artist’s vision—thereby infringing upon his intellectual property rights—was shared by his elder brother, Pastor Charles Enwonwu, who also remonstrated on the platform of the Ben Enwonwu Foundation. “The destruction of my father’s sculpture is a sad reflection of our lack of culture in maintenance and art appreciation,” he lamented, while pointedly adding that those responsible knew little or nothing about art and clearly didn’t care enough to bring in the professionals.
These are good reasons for the visual arts fraternity—especially those of Onitsha extraction led by Lagos-based Ato Arinze and Olisa Nwadiogbu—to join the outcry. While Arinze described the restoration of the piece as a disaster, he acknowledged—even stopping short of commending—the would-be restorers’ efforts at enhancing the environment. He, however, thought the statue and the pedestal should have been left in the original state. “What they should have done is wash off the accumulated dust on it, then apply wax and shine it.”
As for Nwadiogbu, he was flabbergasted by the authorities’ gross ignorance, stressing that they should’ve known better.
Perhaps, there was no better opportunity for Pastor Charles Enwonwu to raise alarm about similar fates that befell his father’s public artworks across Nigeria than now. For instance, the bronze sculpture “Sango” at the Marina in Lagos and his work at the Lagos headquarters of the Federal Radio Corporation of Nigeria were similarly slathered with paint. Then, his allusion to the removal of Ben Enwonwu’s “The Drummer,” from the facçade of the Nigeria Telecommunications building in Lagos, whose fate remained shrouded in mystery, reinforced his conviction that the younger generation had become disconnected from the rich cultural heritage that once defined them.
In the same vein, a statement from the Onitsha Traditional Council, signed by Ike Akatakwuani or the Chief of Staff, Chief Osita Anionwu and dated January 15, 2015, similarly decried “blatant disregard for the artistic and cultural significance of the sculpture, and respect for Onitsha indigenes” while urging “the relevant authorities to act immediately to restore the sculpture’s original state.”
The traditional council’s further advice—that the perpetrators consult “experts who are specialised in the restoration of prized artworks” in order to properly rectify the error—might have been informed by the knee-jerk efforts of the perpetrators to correct their mistakes by painting the sculpture black.
Meanwhile, this woefully misguided artistic arson, albeit well-meaning, industry analysts agree, underscores the urgent need for art education in Nigeria’s schools, highlighting the devastating consequences of a lack of understanding and appreciation for art and the importance of incorporating art into the national curriculum to preserve Nigeria’s rich cultural heritage.
