Threads of Inspiration woven through African Textiles

The rich and layered history of African textiles is seldom documented. African textiles vary greatly – from Adire and Kente in the West, the Indigos from the Tuareg in the North, the Mud-cloths of Central Africa, Kitenge and Shuka from East Africa, to the hides, beadwork and basketry of Southern Africa.

Our continent is vast, and as such, historically comprised many tribes – often warring tribes – which spoke different languages and held disparate customs. Within each of the 54 nations on our vast continent, you will find further variations, nuances created over time through the magic of migration. Pre-colonial Africa was a varied place, as rich in customs and crafts, as we were in minerals and wildlife. The carving up of the continent at an infamous tea party exacerbated our differences, making Africans identify with the borders they lived within, sometimes negating the richness and diversity of culture all around us. The way I see it, being African means that I have a vast repository from which to draw my inspiration. The myriad textures, colours and diversity of cultures and customs, have become a deep repository for me as I create.

My curiosity around and interest in African textiles began as a young girl. I was a somewhat reclusive, yet talkative youngest sibling in a bustling household, who spent hours seated in the middle of our living room. A true creative, I suppose I was enthralled by the imaginings of my mind, and had little time to be sociable. My elder siblings did enough socialising for all of us!

The things that captivated me back then are the same things that captivate me now. My great aversion toward creepy crawlies in the garden kept me indoors, often alone, drawing, or making collages. At the time, my mother, of Ndau decent, owned several gudza mats, each woven by her own aunts, which would be placed atop a more conventional carpet. Those many hours spent seated on the floor meant I was always at close range to these mats, and I learnt, early, to appreciate their intricacy and stunning beauty. A gudza is one of the lesser-known African textiles, woven by hand, without a loom, using surprisingly fine ropes spun from tree bark. It has a course texture, and is closer in its construction to a fine basket, than cloth. These mats were purely functional, made to dry vegetables on, and were hand-woven by women in the Eastern Highlands of Zimbabwe. The crafts of making utensils, for many rural women, was their form of self-expression, and an outlet for creativity. Each individual gudza is woven in the style of the crafter, each distinct in its colour (derived from natural pigments), and style.

As I grew older, and my exposure to other African textiles grew, I was endlessly fascinated by the innate sense of design woven into every piece, paired with the intricacy of the craft. In my early twenties, I gained an obsession for a gallery down the street from my first job, that had the widest collection of African crafts I ever saw. I collected my fair share of African textiles, including the most beautiful Aso-oke fabric from Nigeria, laced with fine gold detail. The vast collection of indigos, Kuba cloths, and Kente cloths in that gallery expanded my appreciation of African design and craft in ways no formal education ever could. Yet, in my youth, I couldn’t see how best to apply the craft. See, I was too busy “sticking to my lane” in graphic design to even fathom that, perhaps my path was to make craft, rather than merely to consume it.

Fast-forward to my early forties, the itch needed to be scratched. As I went about my own internal reckoning, I found myself drawn toward the craft of weaving, and my curiosity around textiles revived. Only, in this season, I am a creator of the craft, not just the admirer. The textiles I design - from tablecloths, runners and throws -  pull threads from different traditions. I see the beauty in the designs of multiple cultures across the continent, both in their variation and similarities. There is the tendency toward hand-made textiles, with common techniques being stitching together smaller pieces to make a single large piece. I love the free-forming patterns of Adire, as well as the earthy tones of natural, undyed fibre.

I have forsaken the mantra of my youth of “stay in your lane”, trading it for an inclusive, expansive view of the universal resource of creativity. There is beauty in the intention of slow craft. There is also something sacred to be drawn from different cultures, different crafts. That’s the thread I’d like to pull, the rabbit-hole I am currently exploring. Not in my own mind anymore, in real life.

Until next time, from my table to yours - may you always find beauty in the things that are made, and the memories that are shared.