Lagos does not wait for you to be ready.
It moves first. Loud, fast, demanding. You either learn its rhythm or you get left behind. By December 2025, I wasn’t there as just another visitor, I was paying attention. I was there to learn.
I returned to Nigeria in December 2024 for the first time in over twenty years, and it was more emotional than I expected. As a proud Yoruba woman who grew up in the UK, my love for my culture never left me, but being back home deepened it. The language, the rhythm, the tradition, the spirit. It all felt louder, fuller, more alive. That trip marked the beginning of a shift, not just personally, but for my brand. From the markets to the studios, long days in traffic to late conversations about production, Lagos showed me what it looks like when creativity, culture, and commerce coexist without apology.
And somehow, in all that movement, Ìtùnúmary found its footing.
Ìtùnúmary had always been rooted in a vision bigger than me, a desire to support the Nigerian community and create with purpose, while amplifying women as a whole. But for a long time, that vision felt overwhelming. I didn’t know where to start or how to build something so intentional. At that point, I was making every piece myself, carrying the brand alone, trying to figure things out as I went.
But Lagos has a way of shrinking fear. When you see how many people are building in motion, you realise that standing still is the real risk.
I experienced Lagos in motion and I was a part of that motion, paying attention to the chaos which was kind of organized in its own way. Organised chaos.
From navigating busy markets to visiting the John Randle Centre, walking through Lekki Art Market, travelling to Ogun State, and hosting our own pop-up, I watched creativity, culture, and commerce collide effortlessly. Lagos is busy, loud, sometimes chaotic, but there is so much beauty in that chaos. It moves with urgency, confidence, and purpose. And it demands that you move too.
It was such a defining trip. While I had previously transitioned 80% of our manufacturing to Nigeria, the connections I made and all the conversations I had, led to me plotting a future where Ìtùnúmary could exist fully in Nigeria. I didn’t just want home to be the inspiration for my brand, I wanted to build my brand within Nigeria. I met the people behind the work, had conversations face to face, and placed the brand back where it always belonged. Home.
Lagos gave me clarity. It reminded me that this brand was never meant to be static or created in isolation. It was meant to be cultivated through people, place, and purpose.
Turning one in September felt quiet but heavy with meaning. One year of becoming. One year of figuring things out publicly and privately. I released just one collection, but its reach travelled further than expected. Pieces left Nigeria for the first time, orders came from places I hadn’t planned for yet. The numbers were modest, but there was an undeniable shift. The brand was no longer just online. It was being worn, seen, and held.
December accelerated everything.
We set up our first physical displays where I met people who had only known the brand through a screen. We also held our first pop-up in Lekki. Seeing our two-piece sets and Adire tote bags displayed in real life, watched by curious eyes, was grounding. The sales weren’t terrific, but the brand’s presence was solidified in the Nigerian fashion world.
A few days later, on a rooftop in Victoria Island, things softened into something more intimate. There were no stalls. There was no rush. Just fabric, paint, conversation. The bag painting experience was a hit.
What began years ago as a birthday moment between friends became real in Lagos. People painted freely, without instruction, trusting their hands. Those painted fabrics later returned as our mini bags, each one holding a custom made memory. “You paint it. We make it. You carry it.” stopped being a concept and became practice.
Christmas with family slowed everything down just enough to reflect. In Nigeria, Christmas is not quiet. It’s music, laughter, noise, togetherness. There’s a sense of community that can’t be replicated. It felt grounding, and it reaffirmed why building something connected to home matters so deeply to me.
I also experienced some amazing first-time moments like getting on an okada for the first time. I was reminded that fear and freedom sit side by side. It’s trusting the process even when you have no idea how the journey would unfold. In many ways, it mirrored where I was with my brand: moving fast, learning on the go, and choosing faith over comfort.
Lagos teaches you that.
This city - my city - inspired the brand just as it demanded more from it. And seeing it in motion pushed me to do more, to build better, and to honour the women, hands, and heritage behind every piece. Ìtùnúmary is growing, evolving, and finding its feet, rooted in culture, shaped by movement, and guided by intention.
New designs are already taking shape, but the intention stays the same. Create space. Honour hands. Tell stories that move.
Lagos showed me that staying still is not an option.
So we move.