For Osaze Efe, photography has always been about more than the image. It is a way to tell stories, build community and create opportunities for the people behind the lens. That thinking led him to found the Abuja Photo Festival in 2017, which has since evolved into the Abuja International Photo Festival, one of Nigeria’s notable platforms for photography and visual storytelling.
But Efe’s work extends well beyond the festival. An artist, curator and cultural builder, he has spent years creating spaces for emerging African creatives to learn, connect and be seen, mentoring and empowering more than 3,000 early-career talents along the way. In 2022, he was selected for the U.S. International Visitor Leadership Program (IVLP), where he explored the role of the arts as a catalyst for societal advancement. Based in Abuja, Efe continues to work at the intersection of creativity, youth development and community, proving that sometimes the most important thing you can do with a camera is create opportunities for others to pick one up.
Interview by Yinka Olatunbosun
Nigeria’s major creative hubs have historically been centred in Lagos. What made you commit to founding the festival in Abuja, and what unique possibilities did you see there?
For me, founding the Abuja Photo Festival was never about competing with Lagos—it was about expanding Nigeria’s creative map. Lagos has deservedly earned its reputation as the country’s creative capital, but I believe that creativity should not be confined to one city. Every nation needs multiple cultural centres that reflect different perspectives, create new opportunities, and make the arts more accessible.
Abuja presented a unique opportunity because it sits at the intersection of Nigeria. It is one of the few cities where people from every state, culture, and background come together. That diversity creates an incredible environment for conversations through photography, which is ultimately a medium for understanding people and society.
Another reason was the gap that existed. At the time, there was no photography platform in Northern and Central Nigeria. Talented young photographers often had to relocate to Lagos or look outside the country for opportunities. I wanted to build an institution that could bring world-class photographers, curators, editors, and educators directly to them, while also attracting international attention to Abuja as a cultural destination.

AIPF is your effort to bridge the specific career gaps and resource shortages you faced early in your own photography journey. What was the single biggest obstacle when you launched in 2017?
When I started my own photography journey, I realised how difficult it was to access mentorship, international networks, portfolio reviews, exhibitions, and conversations with some of the world’s leading visual storytellers. Those opportunities existed, but they often felt out of reach, especially if you weren’t connected to the right circles or based in cities where those ecosystems already existed. That experience shaped the Abuja Photo Festival. I wanted to create the kind of platform I wished had existed when I was starting—a place where a young photographer could learn from globally respected practitioners, exhibit alongside established artists, receive constructive feedback, and build relationships that could transform their career. Launching the festival in Abuja meant we had to earn trust from everyone—artists, partners, sponsors, and international collaborators. We had to prove that a world-class photography festival could succeed outside the traditional creative centres and that there was both an audience and a community ready for it. And of course, funding. I used personal savings to kickstart the event and still partly fund the festival personally, even as we are 10 years old this year.
The festival is an open, non-competitive space rather than a contest. How has that non-competitive philosophy shaped the community of photographers around AIPF?
From the very beginning, I never wanted the Abuja International Photo Festival to be another competition where people came to win prizes and go home. I wanted it to be a space where photographers came to learn, share, question, collaborate, and grow together. I believe that creativity flourishes more through community than through competition. Photography is a deeply personal practice. Every photographer brings a unique perspective shaped by their experiences, culture, and environment. When you remove the pressure of competing against one another, people become more willing to exchange ideas, critique each other’s work honestly, and celebrate different ways of seeing the world. That philosophy has shaped the culture of the festival in remarkable ways. We’ve seen emerging photographers comfortably sit beside internationally renowned visual storytellers, asking questions, receiving portfolio reviews, and building genuine relationships. Those interactions are often far more valuable than winning an award because they create mentorship, collaboration, and long-term professional networks. It has also encouraged generosity within the community. Many of the photographers who once attended the festival as participants now return as speakers, mentors, facilitators, or exhibiting artists. That cycle of giving back is something I’m particularly proud of because it shows that the festival is building a sustainable creative ecosystem rather than simply producing annual winners.
AIPF collaborates with international bodies like UNODC, UNESCO and various foreign embassies. How do you exercise artistic freedom while pursuing the goals of policy and development institutions?
For me, the relationship between art and development is most effective when it’s built on mutual respect. At the Abuja International Photo Festival, we don’t see artistic freedom and institutional objectives as opposing forces—they can strengthen one another when there is a shared commitment to truth, dialogue, and human dignity.
When organisations like UNESCO, UNODC, or foreign embassies partner with us, they are not coming to commission propaganda; they are coming to engage with artists and communities through honest visual storytelling. We are very clear from the outset that the integrity of the artist must be protected. Authentic stories are far more powerful than carefully manufactured messages, and our partners understand that credibility is what gives photography its influence.
Our role is to identify where the values of these institutions naturally intersect with the concerns of artists. Whether the conversation is about media and information literacy, youth empowerment, cultural heritage, gender equality, migration, peacebuilding, or the responsible use of technology, these are issues that photographers are already documenting because they are part of our everyday realities.
The festival provides a platform where policy meets lived experience. Through exhibitions, panel discussions, workshops, and community engagement, policymakers can hear directly from photographers and the communities they document. At the same time, artists gain a deeper understanding of the broader social and developmental context surrounding their work. That exchange creates better conversations and, ultimately, more meaningful impact.
The festival has directly engaged over 3000 young creatives and helped hundreds transition into sustainable careers. What does a successful mentorship model look like within the photography space?
For me, mentorship is not about producing great photographers; it’s about developing complete creative professionals. You can learn to use a camera in a few weeks, but building confidence, discipline, ethics, creative vision, and a sustainable career takes time. That’s the kind of mentorship we’ve tried to build through the Abuja International Photo Festival.
A successful mentorship model begins with access. Many talented young people don’t lack creativity—they lack opportunity. They need access to experienced photographers, editors, curators, publishers, commissioners, and international networks. Sometimes, a single portfolio review or conversation with an established photographer can completely change the direction of a young person’s career.
The second element is continuity. I don’t believe mentorship should end when the workshop is over. That’s why we’ve created pathways that extend beyond the festival—through exhibitions, internships, collaborative projects, grants, international exchanges, and introductions to organisations looking for visual storytellers. The real measure of mentorship is what happens six months or two years after the training, not what happens during it.

Nigeria’s creative sector is expanding rapidly, contributing billions to the economy. How do you train emerging artists to balance artistic authenticity with the commercial business of photography?
I always tell young photographers that you don’t have to choose between being an artist and making a living. The idea that creativity and commerce are enemies is one of the biggest misconceptions in our industry. The goal is to build a career where your artistic voice becomes your greatest commercial advantage, not something you sacrifice to earn an income.
At the Abuja International Photo Festival, we train photographers to think of themselves as both creators and entrepreneurs. Creating powerful images is only one part of the journey. They also need to understand pricing, contracts, copyright, licensing, client relationships, branding, proposal writing, marketing, financial management, and increasingly, how to position themselves in a global digital marketplace. Talent opens the door, but professionalism keeps it open.
At the same time, I encourage them to protect their creative identity. The photographers who build lasting careers are not necessarily those who follow every trend; they are the ones who develop a distinctive visual language and remain consistent in what they stand for. Clients and collectors are drawn to authenticity because it creates trust and makes your work memorable.
With AI imagery and digital platforms altering how visual media is produced and consumed, what role do physical photo festivals play in the digital age?
I actually think the digital age has made physical photo festivals more important, not less. Today, we are surrounded by an endless stream of images. Every minute, thousands of photographs are uploaded, shared, altered, and increasingly generated by artificial intelligence. The challenge is no longer access to images; it’s finding meaning, context, and authentic human connection within them.
A physical photo festival offers something the internet cannot. It creates a space where people slow down, spend time with an image, engage in thoughtful conversations, question ideas, and connect directly with the photographer behind the work. Photography has always been more than pixels on a screen—it’s an experience, and that experience becomes much richer when people encounter the work together.
Artificial intelligence is undoubtedly transforming our industry, and I see that as both an opportunity and a responsibility. AI is changing how images are created, edited, archived, and distributed, but it also raises profound questions about authenticity, authorship, ethics, trust, and the future of visual truth. These are not conversations we can leave to technology companies alone. Festivals provide an important public space where artists, technologists, journalists, policymakers, and audiences can come together to explore these questions.
That is one of the reasons why the theme of the 10th Abuja International Photo Festival is “Convergence – The Future of Imaging.” We are embracing the reality that photography is evolving. The future lies not in resisting technology but in understanding how emerging technologies can coexist with human creativity, ethical storytelling, and documentary integrity.
When you look ahead at the next decade of the Abuja International Photo Festival, what mark do you hope it leaves on Africa’s visual history?
When I think about the next decade of the Abuja International Photo Festival, I don’t think first about the size of the event or the number of countries represented. I think about legacy. I want the festival to become one of the institutions that future generations point to and say, “This helped shape the course of African photography.”
My hope is that we leave behind more than beautiful exhibitions. I want us to leave behind stronger photographers, stronger institutions, and a stronger visual archive of Africa created by Africans themselves. Every year we fail to document our own stories, we leave gaps in our history that someone else will eventually fill—often from a perspective that isn’t ours. I want the Abuja International Photo Festival to be part of ensuring that Africa’s visual memory is preserved with authenticity, dignity, and depth.
I also hope the festival helps redefine what it means to be an African photographer. I don’t want young photographers to feel that they must leave the continent to gain recognition or build meaningful careers. I want Africa to be a place where world-class education, mentorship, exhibitions, publishing, collecting, and creative opportunities exist. If the festival can contribute to building that ecosystem, then we’ve achieved something far more significant than hosting an annual event.
Another ambition is for Abuja to become one of the world’s recognised centres for photography and visual culture. When people think of major photography festivals, I want Abuja to be part of that global conversation—not because we’re trying to imitate existing festivals, but because we’ve built something distinctly African that the world respects and wants to engage with.