Shedrach Uzenab: Telling Stories from the edges of life

Shedrach Uzanb’s art tells stories from the edges of life, where forgotten objects, resilience, and cultural history intersect. Each piece is a journey of transformation, giving new meaning and voice to overlooked moments and materials.

Shedrach Uzenab: Telling Stories from the edges of life

Swiss-Nigerian contemporary artist

Shedrach Uzenab

Swiss-Nigerian contemporary artist

Shedrach Uzenab

About Shedrach Uzenab

I was born in Igueben, part of former Benin – Kingdom, Nigeria, as the first child of Owomare, the fifth wife of a traditional power broker, Ezomon and Adolor of Igueben, Chief Imafidon Uzenabor.

My mother named me Okhirelen, which means “who would think it will ever happen” referring to the “miraele” of my birth – her first live born child at the age of almost forty. From my father I obtained the names Ezomonze, and Adolorze, both referring to his traditional functions, presenting me as the son of Adolor – traditional judge and mediator and Ezomon – the highest ranking chief, right hand man of the king.

My grandfather named me Adouzadehuore – an unquiet spirit, a curious one, a destructive force. Some of my family member were calling me Monday, which was the day of my birth, my friends called me Ohis, meaning “the world belongs to me” and later Probity, expressing their ironical opinion about my Christian believe, which I converted to as a teenager.

At my baptism I gave myself the name Shedrach after a biblical Babylonian, who also converted and became Christian. Coming to Europe, I adapted my name according to the contemporary fashion of short, easily pronounceable and meaningless names calling myself Shed.

My life is like my names: full of different facets, different roles, different perspectives and different meanings. And it is not stable: it flows like a river passing different landscapes, overcoming different obstacles, changing its velocity and depth according to the ground it is flowing through.

I was a happy child spending carefree days surrounded by great nature and the wise love of my mother and grandmother. I was a hard working, sad boy, who had to grow up early taking care of my little sister and my sick mother.

After mother’s death I became a lonely teenager living the life of a slave in the polygamous house of my father. Outside this house I was an admired and respected son of Ezomon and inside a motherless child, not worth to be supported, condemned to serve the others.

I was living between traditional ghosts with their oraeles, swears, prophecies and sacrifices and the prayers to the only God and his son Jesus. I was torn between the peace and beauty of nature – closed village life and the exciting wide variety of metropolitan bustle of Lagos – city.

Shedrach Uzenab: Telling Stories from the edges of life