Traditional facial marks have a significance for the faces that carry them, individuals that bear them and their communities. For some, it is a sign of identity; for others, it beautifies them; for yet some others, it creates a sense of belonging to certain communities. In Iseyin, Nigeria, for instance, one cannot become a king without the marks. Across Nigeria, different communities wear different traditional marks. Some of the marks have similar designs but bear different names. These marks have been passed from one generation to another.

The facial marking tradition has gone through several evolutions. Today, in several families, rather than mark all the children, only the first child is marked; in other families, instead of using the typical family’s pattern, they adopt a smaller design; while some families no longer mark children altogether. At a time when the practice is dwindling as a result of “civilisation” and prohibiting laws, “What is in a Mark?” archives a tradition that may soon be no more. The work asks: what does a mark mean? What does a facial mark mean for the community?

Among the Neni people of Anambra state, Nigeria, the tradition, called “Igbu-Ichi” is being re-enacted as art through the Nkadioka Festival. Yearly, there is re-enactment of the processes at the village square while also parading the last man in the community with the traditional mark.

Therefore, this body of work explores “Ila Oju” as called by the Yorubas and “Igbu-Ichi” as called by the people of Neni, capturing different kinds, examining their roots, relevance to the community and what it means to the bearer. Through the voices of my subjects, “What is in a Mark?” examines a past gone by and engages the future unknown while questioning the suitability or otherwise of the act.

Rasak Adewuyi (14)
Name of Facial Mark: Pélé
“I do not know the name of the mark, I just know I have it. People use it to abuse me. A lot. I have also developed thick skin against this abuse. So once they abuse me, I tell them it is because they have no money in their house that is reason they cannot afford it. I love the mark the way it is and if someone comes with something today that could clean it, I will not take it. It has become me.”

Kehinde Rasaq (30)
Name of Facial Mark: Ìsàlè Èkó
“I was marked when I was a baby but became conscious of the mark at age five. I wasn’t particularly happy when I first saw the mark. As I grew older, my hatred for the act became more pronounced largely because being the first child, I am the only person with this mark among my siblings. I am however getting used to it because now that I am aware my husband loves it.”

Ajibade Oyejide (34)
Facial mark name: Ìlà Ondó
“I am not the first child but my parents still believed that I had to be marked. That is why I have this small one. Though it is called ‘Ila Ondo’, I am from Molete. It is people from our household that has chieftaincy right in the town. These days, the practice is almost gone into extinction. Before you see a child with this small type of mark on his face, let alone the really big ones, you will have to work really hard. While some believe that it adds to their beauty, I strongly do not believe that. A saying goes “B’aase w’aye pe a o ri, la ri; oogun ewa o se e se” which translates that “we are what we have been destined to look like, there is no medicine for beauty.” I will not mark my children for any reason so that they can claim anywhere they chose to claim in future because they do not have marks.”

Wasiu Ademola (39)
Name of Facial Mark: Àbàjà
“I am the first born of my parents and the only one with this mark. It gives me a sense of pride that I am the only one that has it. So I have never felt bad about it. From what I heard, my father, who is now late, comes from Òyó, and his mother is from Ìséyìn. So my father needed to do something to prove to his mother that he loves her, he decided to give me this mark, which is the typical mark you will find on the faces of Iseyin people – four broken horizontal lines on each cheek – as against the ones on the face of people from Òyó where I am originally from – three unbroken horizontal lines on each cheek. The beards that is growing on the tribal mark is deliberate. It is not an attempt to conceal anything.”

Abiodun Alhazan (41)
Name of Facial Mark: Pélé
“I was at NYSC camp in Uyo and was the only one with marks in the whole camp. While at University of Ibadan, I saw people with marks every now and then, so the consciousness was not as intense until the NYSC days. When people wanted to address me, they will say the man with tribal marks and as time went by, I became an object of mischief. But before anyone ridicules me, I am already making jest of myself. Since I got back to the West, I have also discovered that the mark has accorded some sense of respect. My father was so popular in my town and had this same mark. People, those I have not seen before will see me and ask, are you from Iseyin? The son of ADO? This form of identification helps me a lot. People sometimes ask for permission to use their hands to trace the marks.”

Felicia Ajibola (Nee Ajibade) (43), Ayokomi Ajibade (68) – Daughter and Mother
Name of Daughter’s Facial Mark: Abaja
“I became conscious of the mark while I was 13. Then I was comfortable with it because that was what was in vogue then. When I was about 20, I visited Lagos it became more obvious, I just could not deny the fact that I am from Iseyin in Oyo state Nigeria. The mark is there to say it. From that point on, I became really shy. I am old now and I can say I no longer think about it. I have come to accept it.”

Name of the Mother’s Facial mark: Gòmbó
“The traditional mark on my face was solely for identification, ours was a home of many children. So asides the fact that my own parent had this mark on their faces, it was also for them to put it on our faces for identification – to avoid confusion. I remember an instance where my father once said ‘Mi o le ma wa ma wa omo ti o nila kiri’ meaning “he has no luxury of time to start looking for a child that has no means of identification.” But I honestly would want to say it was because there was no civilisation then, so giving your children marks was not strange. It is a different ball game entirely today, hardly will any child be willing to allow you put marks on their faces.”

Re-enactment of Igbu Ichi

Igbu-Ichi is a traditional craft connected to a cultural system; executed by Nwadiokas, itinerant traditional herbalists cum artists who learned the craft through apprenticeship. Also built around this art is a social welfare and a legal system that ensures balance in the communal society. Every December 31, the Nkadioka Festival holds in Neni, Anambra state. During the festival, there is a re-enactment of “igbu-ichi” the art and act, only that the marks are not given. It is an essential component to becoming a chief in the community. It is also an act of remembrance, of celebration, and perhaps a renaissance of an art that is on the verge of being forgotten. Through this performance, a younger generation, unaware of the tradition, is connected with the dying art.

Femi Amogunla is a multimedia artist who works with stories, photography and film; he specialises in documentary and portrait photography. He first studied English language at the Obafemi Awolowo University in Ile-Ife, Nigeria before a summer training in photography at the Africa Artists Foundation in Lagos. He is focused on creating experiences through his works. He sees photography as a form of expression which gives him a better understanding of the world. His works show the importance of situating African stories in global conversations. He tells stories with pictures and words; through pictures, he reveals the unsaid and with words, the unsaid gets a voice. With each project, he aspires to be true to his subjects such that his works draw the audience into the subject’s world. His work “Ibadan, City of Firsts” was exhibited during ICAF Lagos 2018. In 2018, he had his first solo photography exhibition titled “Masks and Masquerades” in Abuja. His work “Three Siblings who Beat 100” was part of “Grey is the New Pink” exhibition at the Weltkulturen Museum, Frankfurt Germany.