FEATURE Jun 2025 The paintings of Chidimma Urunwa Ikegwuonu

Jo Manby

Currently based in Manchester, Chidimma Urunwa Ikegwuonu has a BA in Painting from the University of Benin and an MA in Socially Engaged Art from the University of Salford. Her paintings have been exhibited across Nigeria, Mexico and India in solo and group exhibitions, and most recently at Salford Museum & Art Gallery Open Exhibition. For the first of two pieces of writing that showcase Chidimma Urunwa’s work, the Fourdrinier Editor Jo Manby visited her home studio and learned how, drawing on personal experience of early trauma and displacement, the work celebrates the resilience of women, reimagining the female body ‘as a vessel of history, myth, memory and quiet resistance not meant to be politicised, but humanised’.

An exhibition of work by Chidimma Urunwa Ikegwuonu, ‘Ode to Becoming’, will be on show at PINK Stockport 21st July to 27th July 2025 https://www.pink-mcr.com/about

Chidimma Urunwa Ikegwuonu is a painter of richly hued, tempestuous and compelling images permeated with passionate emotional force and the layered depths of myth and human experience. When I go to see her work, close by a blossom-filled park in April, her ten most recent oil paintings immediately command my attention, loaded with a powerful blend of cultural undertow, emergent identities and transformation that unfolds upon the face of her canvases.

All around are images that announce an innovative, deeply committed painter, with a strong technical awareness of the presence and form of the human figure and a delicious colour sensibility. These paintings were executed on stretched canvas, but have been taken off their stretchers for storage. What unfolds during our conversation about the work displayed around the room and the artist’s influences and intentions, is a story that contextualises a comprehensive fusion of personal experience, compulsion to express it through creativity, and an appetite for knowledge about the many art histories that intersect the world and the centuries.

Chidimma Urunwa first arrived in the UK in 2023 to undertake an MA in Socially Engaged Art at the University of Salford. She recalls her first day in the new country: ‘It was a Thursday evening, and it was my first experience arriving from a hot climate to a much colder one – it was wintertime. I struggled to adapt at first because the weather was so different from what I was used to.’ While Chidimma Urunwa speaks, I am drawn back, time and again, to the work which surrounds us, laid out on the floor of her living room. I am pulled in by the dark flash of burnt orange, the crimson of tropical flowers, deep wine red, purple, indigo, emerald green; the restless, fluent handling of the paint; and the sheer emotive power of the subject matter.

‘My motivation for coming [to the UK] was rooted in a longstanding ambition to further my studies and career as an artist. I’ve always been passionate about using art as a tool for social change, and studying in the UK offered a unique opportunity to deepen my practice, engage with diverse communities,’ Chidimma Urunwa explains. At art college, she was not simply taught technical skills, but ‘also how to think critically about my work and the world around me. My professors encouraged experimentation and exploration, and they pushed me to find my own voice as an artist. I was exposed to various styles and techniques, but it was really about finding my personal approach to painting.’ She tells me how the way art and history are valued and preserved here is ‘something that truly stands out to me.’

Chidimma Urunwa now finds herself able, she continued, to channel past feelings in ‘a more intentional and transformative way,’ and to create art ‘without the weight of unresolved trauma’ holding her back. Her work is concerned with women’s issues: some specifically related to the experience of Black African women and girls, others to women and girls in general. A young Igbo woman from Eastern Nigeria, Chidimma Urunwa was brought up in a rural area, one of five siblings in a conservative Nigerian household where women were valued primarily for their domestic attributes and reproductive potential. She has travelled extensively, including spending time in Mexico and found that ‘there is a link between Mexican and African, Nigerian women’s experience. You can’t really talk as a woman,’ she explains. ‘A boy of five years can’t talk. But an adult woman can’t talk either. You get the feeling you are only appreciated for your womb.’

While still a child, she and her mother, brother and sisters found themselves plunged into a situation of scarcity and precarity, made doubly hard by a burden of shame borne by her mother, with whom Chidimma Urunwa was very close. ‘It taught me the language of violence. And eventually, the necessity of speaking through art.’ A desire to represent the tribulations of womanhood flourished from this, to depict ‘resilience under pressure, identity shaped through silence, and healing found in creation.’ She was inspired to tell her own story of displacement and trauma, and of the contemporary situation for women.

One of the most powerful of these works is unCERTAINTY (2025), which persuasively characterizes this form of expression. A blindfolded woman, mouth open to shout, cry or sing, her hair divided into six long snaking braids that transform part way along into spiked plants with small pink flowers, it is as if her hair is a living embodiment of natural feminine power. Her right hand crosses her chest in an expressive gesture, her left arm at her side, the left hand transforming into a pink lily. A red robe drapes her thighs.

The figure emerges from a densely brushed, abstracted background, rather than being offset against it. The fertile, luscious forest greens and darkest incandescent reds play off the radiant Black skin of the female figure, in turn highlighted with strokes of orange and sienna. I asked Chidimma Urunwa if the blindfolded woman refers to facing an unknown future: ‘Yes, we can say that’, she replied; ‘also the painting speaks about courage of not knowing and still choosing to grow, the title unCERTAINTY makes it broad, not limited to any one angle.’

Chidimma Urunwa draws my attention to a tattoo on the woman’s skin, explaining that before colonisation, there was a way of communicating in Igbo language that was pictographic, a visual way to write, known as insibidi, and it was used as a tattoo. The Igbo word is Agunwanyi, meaning ‘tiger female’, in this painting meaning fierce or strong woman. I asked Chidimma Urunwa if the distance from her homeland and from the subjection to displacement and trauma she went through while still young allows her to see these experiences more clearly, and to process them in new ways. I’m wondering about the depths of insight these paintings seem to germinate from. ‘Yes, the distance… has allowed me to see art more clearly. As a painter, I can now approach my work from a place of deeper reflection and understanding. In the past, my art was often shaped by fear and the need to express things that were hard to articulate, whether that was pain, uncertainty, or a longing for belonging.’

How much painting and drawing did Chidimma Urunwa do at home and school growing up? ‘Art has been a constant in my life. From primary school all the way through to university – both my first degree and my master’s – painting has always been at the core of my studies. I can’t even count how many paintings I’ve created since then; it’s a lot!’ I wondered where the watershed moment had occurred and she began to paint in the way she does now. Was there a moment of epiphany, or was it a gradual process?  ‘I’ve always painted with a sense of fear, feeling like I couldn’t fully express myself the way I truly wanted to. But yes, there was a moment of epiphany for me.’

During the course of one of her exhibitions in Nigeria in 2023, she had some in depth conversations with art critics that really challenged her thinking. ‘That experience made me realise I had been caging my creativity, holding back instead of letting it flow freely.’ The move to the UK also contributed to the shift in emphasis: ‘Socialising, attending exhibitions, being more intentional with my work, and studying the techniques of top artists here—all of that helped me grow. It’s been a mix of a powerful turning point and a gradual process of opening up artistically.’

We talked about getting into the flow with painting. Chidimma Urunwa talks of having a very clear idea in her head of what she wants to paint, and as soon as she picks up a brush, it just flows – the paintings materialise as if on some automatic stream. Had that always been the case or is it something that she has consciously nurtured in herself? ‘There was a time,’ she says, ‘when I had no idea what to paint – but for now, there’s a lot of inspiration.’ Like getting into the zone, I suggest. ‘I’ve noticed that I really have to be “in the flow” to paint effectively—if I’m not, I tend to struggle. At first, it was something I had to be very conscious of, making a deliberate effort to get into the right mindset. But over time, it became more natural and almost subconscious.’

In Onyemaechi (Who Knows Tomorrow), Chidimma Urunwa depicts a woman’s face, wrapped in thought, her head floating in swirling green waters the colours of jade and oxidised copper. A small bird stands on her hair, beak open in song. A spiral pattern is inscribed on her forehead and a tiny white cowrie shell earring gleams on her earlobe. The image is dreamlike, with the placidity of a Surrealist painting. One of her biggest influences, she tells me, is Salvador Dali. But then she quickly also begins to talk about Frida Kahlo, and has a lot more to say about Kahlo, referring to her by first name. As mentioned, Chidimma Urunwa had spent time in Mexico, in 2023: ‘Her paintings were everywhere.’ She saw a lot of Kahlo’s work, and also visited Kahlo’s home, the Blue House, that her husband Diego Rivera turned into a museum dedicated to his wife’s work.

I asked Chidimma Urunwa what it was about Frida Kahlo’s work that drew her to it. She tells me the pull of Kahlo’s work ‘is the raw, unapologetic way she explores pain, identity, and vulnerability. Her art is so deeply personal yet universally relatable. The way she intertwines elements of Mexican culture, surrealism, and her own physical and emotional struggles creates something that’s both haunting and beautiful. What really resonates with me,’ she continues, ‘is how she used her pain not just as a subject, but as a tool to reclaim her narrative and her body. There’s a fearlessness in her work that makes me feel empowered to embrace my own story, flaws and all, and express it through my art. It’s like she turned her wounds into her strength, and that’s something I deeply admire.’

There’s something about Onyemaechi (Who Knows Tomorrow) that speaks to this state of inspired flow that Chidimma Urunwa talks about, combined with a transformational response to suffering: the way the woman appears pensive but unafraid to face whatever future unfolds for her.

‘Frida spoke out her true story,’ says Chidimma Urunwa. Many of these paintings carry the spirit of Kahlo in their use of figuration, of colour, and of natural forms such as fruit with symbolic meanings to convey the lives of women and the transformations they experience in their lives. The painting Life relates to the story of the aunt who died in childbirth, but with a baby who survived. ‘The story behind the painting Life is deeply personal and rooted in an Igbo cultural belief. When I was young, I lost my aunt during childbirth, a tragic event that left a lasting mark on me. The baby she gave birth to survived, but the belief in our culture is that the dead mother’s spirit seeks to find the newborn child. This is a strong spiritual tradition in Igbo culture, which sees the connection between mother and child as sacred and unbreakable, even beyond death.’

What is the significance of the plantain flower and leaves? ‘In this context, it is believed that a plantain tree should be placed inside the casket of a deceased mother. The plantain symbolises life and sustenance, and it is thought that it can serve as a replacement for the mother, helping guide her spirit and compensate for the loss of life. Plantains are seen as a nurturing force, providing for the living, so including them in the burial ritual serves as a gesture to aid the transition for both the mother and the newborn. In the Igbo language, plantain is called ogede. The plantain, in this context, carries more than just its practical significance as a food; it becomes a powerful symbol of life, continuity, and care, tied to both the living and the spirit world.’

Chidimma Urunwa explains that when her aunt died, her mother said to her ‘Why can’t you have your own life?’ after she had dreamed of singing with a bird, a nightingale, which was a sign of hope, that her daughter would have renewed energy. The bird reappears in several of Chidimma Urunwa’s paintings. The plantain also reoccurs. The orange- and ochre-coloured leaves of the dying plantain, seen in the painting Hazed (2025) and Mother of what could not be buried (2025) signify the time after a woman’s fertility, when, ostensibly, they are of no further use to society.

In the painting of a female figure becoming a flowering tree, Her Silence Bloomed into Witness (Omenelū), what is the significance of the blurred mirror? ‘It feels less like a reflection and more like a memory: soft, incomplete, but deeply alive. It rests at the center of her, not to show who she is, but to hold what she's still becoming. It doesn’t offer clarity, and maybe it’s not supposed to. Instead, it holds the quiet parts of her story, the ones too tender or too complicated to speak aloud. The blur isn’t a mistake,’ Chidimma Urunwa explains. ‘It's a sign that healing takes time, that truth unfolds slowly. This mirror watches, not with judgment, but with quiet understanding. It’s a witness to her growth, her silence, her becoming.’

Chidimma Urunwa says that it was an instinctual painting. She certainly never plans her backgrounds – they unfold organically – but other elements also emerge as she is working, rather than in any preplanned way. In this painting, the hair and the flowers just ‘came out’ while she was working. The pink magnolia relates to a conversation with someone at one of Factory’s Artist Socials who told her the tree can live for a hundred years. Chidimma Urunwa used it to signify women’s longevity, and the sense that even though the blossoms are falling in the painting, women still have purpose after the bloom of their youth.

Taking in these glowing canvases, I’m left wondering where Chidimma Urunwa’s sense of colour originated. Is she influenced by the colours of the natural world in particular, does she use colour symbolically? ‘My sense of color comes from a blend of personal experience and the natural world around me. Growing up, I was always drawn to the vivid colors in nature—whether it was the rich greens of the landscape or the warm tones of the sun setting. These natural colors had a way of connecting with me emotionally, and I often found myself inspired by them when painting.’ Chidimma Urunwa is quick to point out, however, that her use of colour ‘isn’t just about mimicking what I see in nature. I also use color symbolically in my work to convey deeper meanings and emotions. For example, certain colors might reflect themes of struggle, hope, or identity. The boldness of red or the softness of blue might tell a different part of the story I want to express.’

Knowing now about Chidimma Urunwa’s difficult experiences, but also the importance of women in her life, including her mother, I ask her about her favourite memory of childhood or early youth. ‘One of my favorite memories from childhood is going to the farm with my mom. I’d play and chat with her while she worked, planting or harvesting. Sometimes, I’d try to help, but let’s just say my efforts didn’t always turn out well! But it was a time full of laughter and connection. Another cherished memory is when I first started painting. It became my comfort hobby, and my mom would always look at my work and offer her praise. Those moments of her appraising my art meant a lot to me and made me feel seen and supported in my creative journey.’

In Atuegwū (bold she becomes) a warrior-spirited woman in a green dress bears a crown of braided hair formed into circles, and her right hand metamorphoses into a phoenix. While we chatted earlier about its meanings, Chidimma Urunwa quoted a line to me: "Out of the ashes cometh the phoenix". It is linked to the myth of the phoenix as a symbol of rebirth and renewal. ‘It’s not directly from a specific poem or author,’ she said. It’s just part of her artistic and symbolic vocabulary, along with the nightingale and the plantain leaf. And all through these ten vibrant, exquisite canvases this painter’s language just keeps on expressing transformation, as she turns tough, upsetting experiences into a unique form of radiant power.