Bongi Khumalo on Art, Direction & everything 'Ibadan Raised, NYC Made'

At the heart of this exhibition was a question of translation — not merely of language, but of culture, history, and imagination. How do you take the pulse of a city like Ibadan, with its layered identity, and allow it to breathe in a foreign environment like New York? How do you honor the story while letting design principles and creative instinct shape the experience?

The following reflections offer insight into the process, weaving together cultural translation, design experimentation, and the lived realities of creation.

Words from CEO Jay

“My vision was to bring Ibadan here to New York — not just as a place, but as a feeling. I wanted the space to carry the texture of where I come from, the rhythm of its people, and the kind of everyday beauty that shaped me. It wasn’t about recreating Ibadan literally, but about allowing people to step into the energy of it, the same way I felt it growing up.”

The Ask?

“The design principle I gave the team was simple but powerful: "We are making something from nothing".

That phrase guided everything. It meant we weren’t relying on abundance, but on creativity, resourcefulness, and intention. It meant every material, every detail, every corner of the space had to tell a story, even if it came from the simplest resource. That’s the essence of how I wanted Ibadan to live inside this New York space.”

“Bongi, as the set director, was a core part of this project. Even though I had all the ideas in my head, she was the one who brought them out on paper. She translated every thought into drawings and found the best references so that people could visualize what I was envisioning. Even though it was an all-hands-on-deck effort, she made sure she understood my phrase ‘making something from nothing’ and she executed it abundantly".

Introducing Bongi Khumalo

Enter Bongi, the set director. While Ceojay carried the vision in his mind, Bongi was the translator. She took words, fragments of memory, and fleeting impressions and made them visible — on paper, in sketches, in references that grounded the abstract.

“Even though it was an all-hands-on-deck effort, Bongi was the one who made sure the phrase ‘making something from nothing’ lived in the execution. She gave shape to what I was dreaming.” Her role wasn’t just technical; it was interpretive. She ensured that Ibadan wasn’t just referenced, but embodied.

More than a set director, she was the interpreter of vision — the one who could listen to fragments of memory and turn them into form. Her sketches, her references, her steady ability to translate the unseen into the visible, all carried Ibadan from imagination into space. In her hands, the project wasn’t just about design; it was about embodiment.

And it is here that her reflections on culture, story, design, similarities, differences were explored. It is here where the creative mind begins to take shape as the process translates and communicates ideas into reality.

And so, in order to understand the makings of this village, we had to first understand the way Ibadan itself was reimagined not only as a memory of place, but as a living presence rebuilt in New York.

1. Cultural Translation

Identity was at the helm of this exhibition. Which elements of Ibadan’s culture flowed naturally into the narrative and space — and which proved more difficult to translate?

Ibadan holds a unique combination of military discipline and free-flowing creativity. This is what I discovered in my research on the city. It was fascinating to bring together that strict quality of order with an ethos of limitless creativity. At first, Ibadan’s militant origins felt challenging to incorporate into the environment, but as we worked and assembled the elements, this influence naturally found its place in the overall production.

For example, in our Boarding School, our Market, and our Concrete Wall, much of the design focus was on function, and we were very intentional about that. Among these, the Concrete Wall carried more of a conceptual rather than functional purpose. Unlike the other installations; the school, the kitchen, the palm wine, the bar etc, it did not serve a direct material or experiential function. Instead, it served an intellectual purpose on a narrative and historical plane. The wall symbolized something either unfinished or broken down midway. It acted as a residual trace of Ibadan’s history, and that form of education was the role it played in the project.

I know you didn’t ask me about this, but honestly, I could go on and on about it [lol].

2. Story vs. Design

Can you tell us about the balance between story and design principle finding that center spot between practical observation and the nuanced message?

From my research, I’ve learned that the people of Ibadan are resourceful, creative, and deeply commercial. Following this principle of making “something out of nothing,” our focus was on giving materials a second life. For example, we transformed a bench by turning it upside down to serve as shelving for a market, and we repurposed fabrics to create the “ground” for our palm wine area. Much of the work was about reimagining the materials we had, not only for aesthetic effect but also for functional use. We had to be inventive with every element, and that naturally echoed the story of who the people of Ibadan are.

3. Similarities in Difference

Did you notice moments where your hometown served as a reference for Ibadan, despite their obvious differences? And within the exhibition, where does the mirror for New York begin and where does it end?

Yes, absolutely. I am from a town that looks almost exactly like Ibadan. In terms of textures and colors, there was a strong alignment with Upington, and much of that background helped me understand CEOJAY’s vision. It also made it easier to shape the language for executing the set design.

As for New York—where that starts and ends—the curation bible from CEOJAY positioned New York as the stage. It became the setting in which we inscribed this narrative, but more importantly, his narrative (and by extension, our narrative as Africans). At the center of this story lies a politic of migration. Our act of inscribing the narrative was also an act of inscribing ourselves into the story of New York. Africans have been here for a long time, yet we are so often denied a place in its history. This project became an opportunity to write ourselves back into that history.

4. The Creative Mind at Work

So much of your role was about translation, taking abstract phrases like “making something from nothing” and sketching them into reality. How do you catch hold of another creator’s vision and make it your own to execute?

Listening. So much of what I do is about listening and paying attention to subtleties and, more often than not, to the things left unsaid.

Of course, my advantage on this project is the long-standing partnership I’ve built with CEOJAY. I’ve been listening to him since the day we met, and he’s been talking since that same day lol.

But on a serious note, what this partnership enables is not just listening to what he offers directly, but also listening around him; listening for the visions he’s had to execute and the intentions behind them.

5. Presence in Creation

In the rush of creating, it’s easy to forget to pause. Was there a moment during the process or after the exhibition opened, that felt especially affirming or reflective for you?

I knew we would be okay when CEOJAY began to obsess over the look and feel of the passage. I felt completely affirmed when it became important to him to get the texture of the red mud wall just right; to capture the essence of the laterite soil that is so integral to Ibadan’s traditional architecture. Since this kind of soil isn’t available in the U.S., Taka, our lead set designer, along with CEOJAY, Ana (our creative director), and myself, had to carry out continuous research to find a workable alternative.

Taka eventually devised a composite, and the two of us went through cycles of trial and error, cancellation, and replication as we refined the final materials. Once CEOJAY started to obsess, I knew we were safe. To me, it meant he had entered the stage of perfecting the conceptual details that mattered most to him. That signaled we had moved beyond panic and uncertainty and we had crossed into the other side of creation.

But beyond affirming the process, this moment, for me as a creative, underscored the importance of what we were making. It genuinely affirmed and reshaped my own creative directive: I want to focus more intentionally on the things that move our cultures and identities forward. I want to keep telling our stories in ways that are significant, resonant, and enduring.

Beyond the Walls

The result was a room-scale narrative where space itself became storytelling. Visitors didn’t just walk into a gallery they walked into an album of memories, textures that spoke of Ibadan while embrancing the journey to New York.

It is quite brilliant to see a vision come to life with such authenticity. Within these quiet walls, a group of friends truly turned "something into nothing" a bold statement reflected throughout the exhibition. Masterfully, the work of CEO Jay is captured. We thank Bongi for bringing this vocation to our doorstep, and more importantly, for the artistic direction that united two worlds with such integrity.

Here’s to the custodians of culture those daring enough to go beyond the norm, yet responsible enough to keep the vision intact: a home reimagined in another city, built from creativity, resourcefulness, and memory.