To Have and to Hold: Samson Amidu

The Kaduna Fashion and Art Festival (KAFART) is back this year for its 6th overall edition and 1st edition as a biennial. The theme is “To Have and to Hold.” We had earlier spoken to the festival director, Ganiyat Sani, about what this edition promises. We spotlight some of the exhibiting artists and designers, asking them questions about their creative origins, their distinct interpretations of the theme, and how their heritage and local communities shape the narratives they choose to preserve against the threat of erasure.

Take us back to where your relationship with art began. What are your earliest memories of making, and who or what first made you feel that creating was something you could do, and perhaps needed to do?

My journey into the art world began in 2020 when I was given admission to study art in Yaba College of Technology.

At first, I never thought I can excel in the field because of several challenges I encountered because the mindset I have about art before I entered art school was different from what I met and that almost shook me off balance but I managed to complete my National Diploma. But everything took a positive turn when I joined the Olokun Art Studio for my Industrial Training (IT); and that was when I met the Master Saheed Adelakun who mentored me and through his mentorship, I have that confidence that art is something I can do and will do.

This year’s theme, “To Have and to Hold,” asks what we choose to hold, what we let go, and the cost of holding on. When you first sat with those words, what did they stir in you, and how do they show up in the work you’re bringing to KAFART?

When I first sat with the theme “To Have and to Hold,” my thoughts immediately turned to the primal, unbreakable bonds of maternal care—to what we grip with everything we have, what we sacrifice in the process, and the quiet resilience passed down through generations.

When I first sat with the theme “To Have and to Hold,” my thoughts immediately turned to the primal, unbreakable bonds of maternal care—to what we grip with everything we have, what we sacrifice in the process, and the quiet resilience passed down through generations.

In my Echoes of Motherhood series, this theme manifests as a deeply emotional exploration of devotion. The figures in these works are captured in moments of profound intimacy, cradling and shielding their children against the shifting currents of daily life and economic uncertainty. Here, holding on is not merely a choice; it is an instinctual reflex and an act of fierce survival.

This emotional weight is mirrored directly in my physical process. Through my signature quilted canvas technique—stitching and binding modular panels into tactile grids alongside the impressionist rendering of colors,I give physical form to the labor of holding a family together. The textures and stitched layers speak to the endurance required to be an anchor.

Ultimately, these works ask: What does it cost a mother to hold her world together? They stand as a tribute to that unyielding grip, and the sanctuaries of hope built out of love and perseverance.

Tell us about the piece, or body of work, you’re exhibiting. What is the story behind it, and what do you hope someone feels or understands when they stand in front of it?

The body of work I am exhibiting for KAFART is my Echoes of Motherhood series—a visual exploration of the silent, enduring labor of maternal devotion and the sanctuary built within family spaces.

The story behind these pieces stems from observing the quiet resilience of mothers who act as unwavering anchors amidst economic and daily uncertainties. It is inspired by the unspoken language of care: the tight grip of a hand, the protective curve of a body, and the relentless effort required to shield and nurture the next generation against difficult environments.

When someone stands in front of these works, I want them to move beyond simply looking at a painted surface and instead feel the tangible weight of that devotion.

Ultimately, I hope the audience feels a deep sense of empathy and reverence. I want them to understand that holding a family and a community together is a profound, active labor of love—one that carries both immense strength and hidden vulnerability.

Tell us about the piece, or body of work, you’re exhibiting. What is the story behind it, and what do you hope someone feels or understands when they stand in front of it?

Firstly, it was just an idea cooking up in my head, then I start to execute the ideas into a visual template- the pre sketch, the preparation of my painting ground (which includes the making of my quilted canvas), the actual painting itself until you’re satisfied to drop your brush and sign the work off because an art piece is never finished.

One interesting thing about my process that surprises people is the craftsmanship of how I quilt my painting ground.

KAFART asks what endures in the face of erasure and forgetting. Is there a story, tradition, skill or memory from your culture, family or community that you feel is at risk of being lost, and how does your work help you hold onto it?

The communal traditions of shared domestic labor and maternal care are quietly fading under modern pressures. My work fights this erasure by preserving these vanishing memories.

Through my signature quilted canvas technique—stitching and binding cut-out panels into tactile grids—I borrow from traditional practices of sewing and patching. By fusing these methods with rich impasto and sustainable fabrics, I elevate maternal devotion from the background into a monumental focus.

These canvases act as physical time capsules, ensuring that the heavy, beautiful endurance of our caregivers is held tightly, honored, and made to endure.

What does it mean to you to show your work at KAFART, and how has your community, your city and the way you grew up shaped the way you see and make?

Showing my work at KAFART—which champions creatives from Northern Nigeria and beyond—means bringing the intimate, everyday realities of our communities onto a shared, visible stage.

Growing up in environments rich in resourcefulness, communal resilience, and vibrant local trade deeply shaped my artistic vision. I learned early on shoemaking and to notice how people patch things together to survive—how leather, fabrics, spaces, and relationships are mended with care.

That local spirit of endurance directly drives my practice. It is why I build my canvases using stitched, quilted panels and tactile textures: to honor the grit, resourcefulness, and quiet dignity of the people and places that raised me.

What is the work you haven’t made yet that excites you most, and what do you hope people carry with them after experiencing your work at KAFART?

Looking beyond this festival, the work that excites me most is a planned large-scale, immersive installation that pushes my quilted canvas technique into three-dimensional space—transforming stitched panels into suspended, architectural rooms where viewers can physically walk through and feel the enclosed safety of a shared sanctuary.

After experiencing my work at KAFART, I hope people carry away a deeper reverence for the quiet, unseen labor that holds our families and communities together. More than just seeing a painting, I want them to walk away feeling the tactile weight of resilience, and remembering that care is a powerful, enduring anchor.