Few people move between creativity, culture, and public service with the kind of intentionality Aisha Augie brings to her work. For nearly two decades, she has built a career that refuses to sit neatly in one lane, moving with rare fluidity between photography, communications strategy, advocacy, governance, and cultural storytelling.
Internationally recognised for her work as a photographer and creative artist, Augie has also held significant public roles, consistently using her platform to drive meaningful impact, particularly for young people, women, and the wider cultural and creative sectors across Africa.
Now leading the Centre for Black and African Arts and Civilisation (CBAAC) as Director General, she carries the responsibility of preserving one of Africa’s most important cultural institutions while finding ways to make that legacy resonate with a new generation. But beyond the titles and appointments is someone deeply interested in visibility, identity, and the power of narrative; in who gets seen, whose histories are preserved, and how culture continues to shape collective memory.
Measured yet warm, thoughtful yet assured, Augie brings both creative instinct and institutional discipline to her work. In this interview with Funke Babs-Kufeji, she reflects on leadership, cultural preservation, women’s empowerment, the realities of navigating public institutions, and the sense of purpose that has quietly shaped her journey.
You wear many hats: artist, strategist, public servant, and storyteller. How do you keep all these sides of yourself in balance?
I’ve come to understand that these aren’t separate hats as they are on the same head. The artist in me sees a story; the strategist asks how to tell it in a way that moves people; the public servant asks who it serves; and the storyteller makes sure it’s remembered. What keeps me balanced is remembering that every role I hold is ultimately about the same thing, using what I have to contribute meaningfully to the world around me. When I feel pulled, I return to that centre: purpose before title.
What was the defining moment when you knew your art could go beyond aesthetics and actually drive social change?
There was a moment early in my career when a photograph I took of a soldier wearing his khakis on a farm in Kebbi State travelled further than I ever expected. He mentioned how he had moved his service to the nation from orders to farming. He felt he could make a difference by feeding people, especially given his experiences travelling across Nigeria while in the army. People stopped me to ask about him and what happened afterwards. That’s when I understood that a camera in the right hands can be a witness. From that moment on, I stopped asking “is this beautifully composed?” and started asking “does this matter?”.
How do your Northern Nigerian roots influence your art and your voice in the national cultural space?
Northern Nigeria is often spoken about but rarely spoken from. I grew up surrounded by layered beauty, our architecture, art, textiles and the quiet and almost never seen strength of women, faith and community. I travelled a lot with my family and have lived in various states across Nigeria. My work carries a sense of responsibility to make sure our stories are not flattened into a single narrative in our national cultural conversation. We are complex, modern, ancestral, and creative all at once. My roots are both my compass and my contribution. Many are also unaware that I have Igbo roots in Uturu, Abia State, and that I have cousins in most geopolitical zones and around the world. I consider myself Nigerian first before any other identity, but when I began storytelling with my background as a journalist, I realised the North was severely underrepresented, so I focused more on Northern Nigerian stories.
As someone who uses photography as a tool for advocacy, what stories have moved you the most to capture?
The stories of women & children and how generations interact with each other, passing down information from one generation to the next. I particularly connected to a community in the Tillaberry Region of Niger Republic. I was commissioned by an agency as part of advocacy efforts on Water, Sanitation and Hygiene (WASH) for a documentary. That was one of the cleanest rural villages I had ever experienced. WASH was part of their culture, but beyond that, they had figured out ways to beautify the walls of their homes with amazing, long-lasting motifs. I love women who teach and keep families together against odds most people cannot imagine. I’ve also been deeply moved by artisans and craftspeople whose work holds centuries of knowledge but who live with almost no recognition. Documenting them feels like returning something that was already theirs.
You’ve worked across traditional and digital mediums. How do you see technology shaping the future of African art and storytelling?
For someone like me who has experienced life with analog cameras and darkrooms, without the internet or mobile phones, I feel like technology has finally given African creatives a microphone we don’t have to ask permission to use. For the first time, our stories can travel without needing to be validated by gatekeepers outside the continent. AI, immersive media, the blockchain, digital archives are infrastructure for cultural sovereignty. My hope is that we build with intention so that the next chapter of African storytelling is authored by Africans, not just consumed as content, we are already seeing the value addition so I’m excited about the future for us all.
You are the Director General of the Centre for Black and African Arts & Civilisation (CBAAC), a major role in preserving and promoting African culture. What new energy or perspective are you bringing to the institution?
I’m bringing the energy of a practitioner, someone who has actually made art and earned from it, navigated the cultural & creative economy as an entrepreneur, and worked with young talent across the continent. My advocacy and advisory roles within the development and public sector spaces also prepared me. My team and I at CBAAC are working hard to make our centre feel alive, visible, and useful to everyday Nigerians, Africans on the continent and in the diaspora, not locked behind institutional walls in archaic formats. As mandated through KPIs assigned to us by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu and the Minister of Arts, Culture, Tourism and the Creative Economy, Barr. Hannatu Musawa, we have already commenced activities connecting cultural exchange and diplomacy to job creation, learning and development amongst other activities. I’m also bringing a data and digital-first mindset because a civilisation as rich as ours deserves to be experienced, archived, and shared in ways that can meet people where they already are.
You previously served as Special Adviser on Digital Communications to the Minister of Finance. How did that experience shape your understanding of communication in governance?
It was an honour to learn from a hardworking woman in one of the highest decision-making roles in Nigeria. The job taught me that policy without stakeholder engagements, collaboration and communication is noise. The Government and civil servants do a great deal of meaningful work that the public never sees, and that gap erodes trust. I learned first hand about behavioral science and how to translate complex fiscal and economic decisions into language that respects the intelligence of ordinary citizens. I also learned that credibility is earned consistently, not announced. Those lessons travel with me into every role I will take on.
What are some of your key goals for the Centre for Black and African Arts and Civilization as its Director General?
Three things sit at the top of my list. First, to digitise and expand access to CBAAC’s archives so our scholarly and cultural memory is available globally. Second, to reposition the Centre as a living, programming-rich hub (exhibitions, merchandising, residencies, youth initiatives, partnerships) with creatives across Africa and the diaspora to deepen and expand on our pan-African mandate. Third, to deepen CBAAC’s role in cultural diplomacy and policy conversations especially about the cultural and creative economy, because culture to me is an economic and diplomatic force.
With almost 50 years of our African history from around 59 nations kept in trust with CBAAC as the repository of FESTAC77, a global Pan-African festival hosted by Nigeria in 1977, these include art and artefacts, historical books in the library and archive, thousands of audiovisual documentation, ongoing research and publications (126 publications so far) and many more being prepared for the world to experience. We intend to be a strong advocate for Africa and Africans to build and reform global policies that matter, to collaborate in building the Africa we want/need and to use the stakeholder engagements on the Road to FESTAC77@50 to deepen cultural diplomacy, trade and exchange.
Public institutions often face funding or implementation gaps. How are you ensuring that creative and cultural projects don’t just remain on paper?
By being honest about the constraints and creative about the solutions, this is one of the reasons I continue to be an advocate for the Cultural and Creative Industries (CCIs) in Africa. I did not enter the job with delusions. I already knew that our sector is undervalued. Not every project requires a large budget but I believe that some require the right partnerships. I’m building collaborations with the private sector, development partners, and cultural institutions so that our work is resourced sustainably. We are already collaborating with 17 countries and counting. I also believe in small wins executed well; a finished pilot teaches more and unlocks more funding than a grand plan left uunrealised We may be underfunded but our pilot projects like the Pan African Indigenous Skills Development Program (PAID) and our Creative Coalition for example, will ensure that we convince stakeholders of the need to support based on our value addition. We dream big but start small. Being a creative agency, the same as most creatives, the world is yet to catch up on our potential. As an individual, I was elated when our Ministry was created to focus on the creative economy and I am super glad that I can contribute to the policies that will lead to a properly funded sector for those who come after us.
The CBAAC has a rich legacy. What are your priorities in reimagining its role for a new generation?
The legacy gives us credibility; the new generation gives us relevance. My priority is to honour both. That means making CBAAC a place where young Africans can see and reinvent themselves through grassroots hubs and programming that speaks to contemporary creative practice, fellowships and research opportunities, and through digital experiences that extend the Centre far beyond its physical walls. The CBAAC of the future should feel like a bridge between where we’ve been and where we’re going.
How do you navigate the intersection of creativity and bureaucracy bringing innovation into government spaces that are often rigid?
Patience, paired with persistence oh. Bureaucracy is not the enemy of creativity, we find it a different language. I’ve learned to translate artistic ambition into administrative frameworks, (timelines, memos, procurement plans) so that the vision can actually move. Inside rigid systems, the creatives who succeed are the ones who understand the system well enough to reshape it from within. My hope is to continue to add value during policy creation and engagement sessions of which I have already participated in various ones since 2015 both on the State and Federal level.
You’ve been a visible advocate for women and youth empowerment. What progress excites you most, and what still needs urgent attention?
What excites me is the sheer number of young people and women joining politics, building businesses, telling stories, and entering spaces that were closed to their parents, especially in the North of Nigeria. What still needs urgent attention is the structural work: policy implementation, education, safety, access to capital, representation in decision-making rooms. Visibility is a beginning, we owe the next generation systems not tokenism.
You’ve transitioned between the private, public, and nonprofit sectors seamlessly. What has each space taught you about leadership?
The private sector taught me discipline and accountability to outcomes. The nonprofit sector taught me that mission without sustainability is fragile. The public sector taught me scale, that decisions made well can touch millions of lives. Together, they taught me that great leadership is less about where you sit and more about how clearly you see the people you’re meant to serve.
Through your podcast, I Love Your Work, you’ve had conversations with creatives across continents. What insights have those exchanges revealed about the African creative spirit?
It has been a while since I recorded on that platform. What I keep hearing is that African creatives are not waiting for permission anymore. There’s a confidence emerging, one that draws from heritage without being trapped by it, and engages the world without feeling inferior to it. I’ve also learned that the creative spirit across the continent is deeply collaborative, even across borders and languages. We are each other’s biggest audience and sharpest collaborators, and that solidarity is the future.
You’ve received countless recognitions over the years. Which one felt most personal and why?
Honestly, the ones that move me most aren’t always the ones on stage. I got an award from my child’s classmates when he was in El-Amin, I felt that in my chest and another was a young girl (Halima from Kebbi), who told me that she picked up a camera because of me and that her dad; who was against that as a career, started supporting her after he watched me in an interview with Cyril Stober on NTA, that’s the kind of recognition I carry differently. Awards validated the work in the beginning but after you’ve received many of them, it is moments like that of Halima that validate the purpose. If I’ve made it easier for anyone to imagine themselves in whatever way they want and they commit to that by going for it, that’s what I hold closest.
From the girl who started taking pictures in Kebbi to the woman leading national cultural conversations, what would you say to your younger self?
I’d tell her: trust the path even when it doesn’t look like anyone else’s, the world will catch up. The very things you’re worried about make you different, your roots, faith, softness and ambition are the exact things that will carry you. Don’t shrink to fit rooms you were meant to expand. And keep taking the pictures, even when no one is watching. They will matter more than you know. Lastly, NEVER stop asking questions, questions lead to paths you may never discover, if you did not ask them in the first place. Story of my life.
Finally, how do you define fulfilment now as an artist, a public servant, and a woman living purposefully?
Fulfilment, for me, is alignment. It’s when what I do, what I believe, and who I am are pointing in the same direction. This is where I feel I am today. In retrospect, all my experiences have come together for my greater good. It’s not the absence of hard days (many days are very hard) but it is when I feel the presence of meaning in them. It helps me get up each day. I feel fulfilled when my work opens a door for someone else, when my family feels my presence, when I’ve created something honest and long-lasting. That is the life I’m building, it may not be perfect, but it is purposeful.
Few people move between creativity, culture, and public service with the kind of intentionality Aisha Augie brings to her work. For nearly two decades, she has built a career that refuses to sit neatly in one lane, moving with rare fluidity between photography, communications strategy, advocacy, governance, and cultural storytelling.
Internationally recognised for her work as a photographer and creative artist, Augie has also held significant public roles, consistently using her platform to drive meaningful impact, particularly for young people, women, and the wider cultural and creative sectors across Africa.
Now leading the Centre for Black and African Arts and Civilisation (CBAAC) as Director General, she carries the responsibility of preserving one of Africa’s most important cultural institutions while finding ways to make that legacy resonate with a new generation. But beyond the titles and appointments is someone deeply interested in visibility, identity, and the power of narrative; in who gets seen, whose histories are preserved, and how culture continues to shape collective memory.
Measured yet warm, thoughtful yet assured, Augie brings both creative instinct and institutional discipline to her work. In this interview with Funke Babs-Kufeji, she reflects on leadership, cultural preservation, women’s empowerment, the realities of navigating public institutions, and the sense of purpose that has quietly shaped her journey.
You wear many hats: artist, strategist, public servant, and storyteller. How do you keep all these sides of yourself in balance?
I’ve come to understand that these aren’t separate hats as they are on the same head. The artist in me sees a story; the strategist asks how to tell it in a way that moves people; the public servant asks who it serves; and the storyteller makes sure it’s remembered. What keeps me balanced is remembering that every role I hold is ultimately about the same thing, using what I have to contribute meaningfully to the world around me. When I feel pulled, I return to that centre: purpose before title.
What was the defining moment when you knew your art could go beyond aesthetics and actually drive social change?
There was a moment early in my career when a photograph I took of a soldier wearing his khakis on a farm in Kebbi State travelled further than I ever expected. He mentioned how he had moved his service to the nation from orders to farming. He felt he could make a difference by feeding people, especially given his experiences travelling across Nigeria while in the army. People stopped me to ask about him and what happened afterwards. That’s when I understood that a camera in the right hands can be a witness. From that moment on, I stopped asking “is this beautifully composed?” and started asking “does this matter?”.
How do your Northern Nigerian roots influence your art and your voice in the national cultural space?
Northern Nigeria is often spoken about but rarely spoken from. I grew up surrounded by layered beauty, our architecture, art, textiles and the quiet and almost never seen strength of women, faith and community. I travelled a lot with my family and have lived in various states across Nigeria. My work carries a sense of responsibility to make sure our stories are not flattened into a single narrative in our national cultural conversation. We are complex, modern, ancestral, and creative all at once. My roots are both my compass and my contribution. Many are also unaware that I have Igbo roots in Uturu, Abia State, and that I have cousins in most geopolitical zones and around the world. I consider myself Nigerian first before any other identity, but when I began storytelling with my background as a journalist, I realised the North was severely underrepresented, so I focused more on Northern Nigerian stories.
As someone who uses photography as a tool for advocacy, what stories have moved you the most to capture?
The stories of women & children and how generations interact with each other, passing down information from one generation to the next. I particularly connected to a community in the Tillaberry Region of Niger Republic. I was commissioned by an agency as part of advocacy efforts on Water, Sanitation and Hygiene (WASH) for a documentary. That was one of the cleanest rural villages I had ever experienced. WASH was part of their culture, but beyond that, they had figured out ways to beautify the walls of their homes with amazing, long-lasting motifs. I love women who teach and keep families together against odds most people cannot imagine. I’ve also been deeply moved by artisans and craftspeople whose work holds centuries of knowledge but who live with almost no recognition. Documenting them feels like returning something that was already theirs.
You’ve worked across traditional and digital mediums. How do you see technology shaping the future of African art and storytelling?
For someone like me who has experienced life with analog cameras and darkrooms, without the internet or mobile phones, I feel like technology has finally given African creatives a microphone we don’t have to ask permission to use. For the first time, our stories can travel without needing to be validated by gatekeepers outside the continent. AI, immersive media, the blockchain, digital archives are infrastructure for cultural sovereignty. My hope is that we build with intention so that the next chapter of African storytelling is authored by Africans, not just consumed as content, we are already seeing the value addition so I’m excited about the future for us all.
You are the Director General of the Centre for Black and African Arts & Civilisation (CBAAC), a major role in preserving and promoting African culture. What new energy or perspective are you bringing to the institution?
I’m bringing the energy of a practitioner, someone who has actually made art and earned from it, navigated the cultural & creative economy as an entrepreneur, and worked with young talent across the continent. My advocacy and advisory roles within the development and public sector spaces also prepared me. My team and I at CBAAC are working hard to make our centre feel alive, visible, and useful to everyday Nigerians, Africans on the continent and in the diaspora, not locked behind institutional walls in archaic formats. As mandated through KPIs assigned to us by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu and the Minister of Arts, Culture, Tourism and the Creative Economy, Barr. Hannatu Musawa, we have already commenced activities connecting cultural exchange and diplomacy to job creation, learning and development amongst other activities. I’m also bringing a data and digital-first mindset because a civilisation as rich as ours deserves to be experienced, archived, and shared in ways that can meet people where they already are.
You previously served as Special Adviser on Digital Communications to the Minister of Finance. How did that experience shape your understanding of communication in governance?
It was an honour to learn from a hardworking woman in one of the highest decision-making roles in Nigeria. The job taught me that policy without stakeholder engagements, collaboration and communication is noise. The Government and civil servants do a great deal of meaningful work that the public never sees, and that gap erodes trust. I learned first hand about behavioral science and how to translate complex fiscal and economic decisions into language that respects the intelligence of ordinary citizens. I also learned that credibility is earned consistently, not announced. Those lessons travel with me into every role I will take on.
What are some of your key goals for the Centre for Black and African Arts and Civilization as its Director General?
Three things sit at the top of my list. First, to digitise and expand access to CBAAC’s archives so our scholarly and cultural memory is available globally. Second, to reposition the Centre as a living, programming-rich hub (exhibitions, merchandising, residencies, youth initiatives, partnerships) with creatives across Africa and the diaspora to deepen and expand on our pan-African mandate. Third, to deepen CBAAC’s role in cultural diplomacy and policy conversations especially about the cultural and creative economy, because culture to me is an economic and diplomatic force.
With almost 50 years of our African history from around 59 nations kept in trust with CBAAC as the repository of FESTAC77, a global Pan-African festival hosted by Nigeria in 1977, these include art and artefacts, historical books in the library and archive, thousands of audiovisual documentation, ongoing research and publications (126 publications so far) and many more being prepared for the world to experience. We intend to be a strong advocate for Africa and Africans to build and reform global policies that matter, to collaborate in building the Africa we want/need and to use the stakeholder engagements on the Road to FESTAC77@50 to deepen cultural diplomacy, trade and exchange.
Public institutions often face funding or implementation gaps. How are you ensuring that creative and cultural projects don’t just remain on paper?
By being honest about the constraints and creative about the solutions, this is one of the reasons I continue to be an advocate for the Cultural and Creative Industries (CCIs) in Africa. I did not enter the job with delusions. I already knew that our sector is undervalued. Not every project requires a large budget but I believe that some require the right partnerships. I’m building collaborations with the private sector, development partners, and cultural institutions so that our work is resourced sustainably. We are already collaborating with 17 countries and counting. I also believe in small wins executed well; a finished pilot teaches more and unlocks more funding than a grand plan left uunrealised We may be underfunded but our pilot projects like the Pan African Indigenous Skills Development Program (PAID) and our Creative Coalition for example, will ensure that we convince stakeholders of the need to support based on our value addition. We dream big but start small. Being a creative agency, the same as most creatives, the world is yet to catch up on our potential. As an individual, I was elated when our Ministry was created to focus on the creative economy and I am super glad that I can contribute to the policies that will lead to a properly funded sector for those who come after us.
The CBAAC has a rich legacy. What are your priorities in reimagining its role for a new generation?
The legacy gives us credibility; the new generation gives us relevance. My priority is to honour both. That means making CBAAC a place where young Africans can see and reinvent themselves through grassroots hubs and programming that speaks to contemporary creative practice, fellowships and research opportunities, and through digital experiences that extend the Centre far beyond its physical walls. The CBAAC of the future should feel like a bridge between where we’ve been and where we’re going.
How do you navigate the intersection of creativity and bureaucracy bringing innovation into government spaces that are often rigid?
Patience, paired with persistence oh. Bureaucracy is not the enemy of creativity, we find it a different language. I’ve learned to translate artistic ambition into administrative frameworks, (timelines, memos, procurement plans) so that the vision can actually move. Inside rigid systems, the creatives who succeed are the ones who understand the system well enough to reshape it from within. My hope is to continue to add value during policy creation and engagement sessions of which I have already participated in various ones since 2015 both on the State and Federal level.
You’ve been a visible advocate for women and youth empowerment. What progress excites you most, and what still needs urgent attention?
What excites me is the sheer number of young people and women joining politics, building businesses, telling stories, and entering spaces that were closed to their parents, especially in the North of Nigeria. What still needs urgent attention is the structural work: policy implementation, education, safety, access to capital, representation in decision-making rooms. Visibility is a beginning, we owe the next generation systems not tokenism.
You’ve transitioned between the private, public, and nonprofit sectors seamlessly. What has each space taught you about leadership?
The private sector taught me discipline and accountability to outcomes. The nonprofit sector taught me that mission without sustainability is fragile. The public sector taught me scale, that decisions made well can touch millions of lives. Together, they taught me that great leadership is less about where you sit and more about how clearly you see the people you’re meant to serve.
Through your podcast, I Love Your Work, you’ve had conversations with creatives across continents. What insights have those exchanges revealed about the African creative spirit?
It has been a while since I recorded on that platform. What I keep hearing is that African creatives are not waiting for permission anymore. There’s a confidence emerging, one that draws from heritage without being trapped by it, and engages the world without feeling inferior to it. I’ve also learned that the creative spirit across the continent is deeply collaborative, even across borders and languages. We are each other’s biggest audience and sharpest collaborators, and that solidarity is the future.
You’ve received countless recognitions over the years. Which one felt most personal and why?
Honestly, the ones that move me most aren’t always the ones on stage. I got an award from my child’s classmates when he was in El-Amin, I felt that in my chest and another was a young girl (Halima from Kebbi), who told me that she picked up a camera because of me and that her dad; who was against that as a career, started supporting her after he watched me in an interview with Cyril Stober on NTA, that’s the kind of recognition I carry differently. Awards validated the work in the beginning but after you’ve received many of them, it is moments like that of Halima that validate the purpose. If I’ve made it easier for anyone to imagine themselves in whatever way they want and they commit to that by going for it, that’s what I hold closest.
From the girl who started taking pictures in Kebbi to the woman leading national cultural conversations, what would you say to your younger self?
I’d tell her: trust the path even when it doesn’t look like anyone else’s, the world will catch up. The very things you’re worried about make you different, your roots, faith, softness and ambition are the exact things that will carry you. Don’t shrink to fit rooms you were meant to expand. And keep taking the pictures, even when no one is watching. They will matter more than you know. Lastly, NEVER stop asking questions, questions lead to paths you may never discover, if you did not ask them in the first place. Story of my life.
Finally, how do you define fulfilment now as an artist, a public servant, and a woman living purposefully?
Fulfilment, for me, is alignment. It’s when what I do, what I believe, and who I am are pointing in the same direction. This is where I feel I am today. In retrospect, all my experiences have come together for my greater good. It’s not the absence of hard days (many days are very hard) but it is when I feel the presence of meaning in them. It helps me get up each day. I feel fulfilled when my work opens a door for someone else, when my family feels my presence, when I’ve created something honest and long-lasting. That is the life I’m building, it may not be perfect, but it is purposeful.
