Known for her magnetic presence and passion for storytelling, the Nigerian-Canadian poet, playwright, and performer is a leading voice in global literary communities, with work that dazzles from page to stage. Her poetry concert, Open, has shown to sold-out audiences in the UK, Canada, South Africa, and Nigeria. She is the author of three collections of poetry: Down to Earth (2011), Abscess (2014), and This Is How We Disappear (2019). Sonuga has released three spoken word albums, Mother Tongue (2011), Swim (2019) and Sis (2024).
A versatile creative force, Sonuga has scripted campaigns for Google, Intel, Samsung, UN Women, White Ribbon Alliance, and The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. She was an ambassador for Intel’s She Will Connect, a program dedicated to empowering women and girls through technological literacy across Africa. Sonuga has written three plays: The Six (an intergenerational exploration of womanhood), Naked (a one-woman play) and Ada the Country (a musical). Sankofa, Sonuga’s libretto, which reimagines Igor Stravinski’s Opera, L’histoire du Soldat, will premiere in Toronto, Canada, in the fall of 2024. Sonuga made history as the first poet to perform at a Nigerian presidential inauguration and was the 9th Poet Laureate of the City of Edmonton, where she currently resides.
Titilope, you’ve always woven deep stories of womanhood into your art. Was there a specific moment when you knew poetry would be your lifelong companion?
I have always loved stories. It did not matter if it was a poem, prose or song. It’s how I make sense of the world. Poetry and art were always going to be a lifelong companion whether it was my work or not.
With three collections of poetry and spoken word albums under your belt, how has your approach to storytelling evolved over the years?
My work has evolved as I have over the years. I become a little more rooted, and that grounding shows up in the stories I want to tell and how I want to tell them. I’m less afraid to be seen trying now, more willing to experiment, and more open to the many ways stories can exist.
You’ve written for massive global brands and scripted thought-provoking campaigns. How do you balance creative freedom with corporate objectives?
It’s a delicate balance: digesting corporate language and translating it into something with depth and heart. Ultimately, it begins with choosing to work only with brands who love and respect my work and style and are looking for ways to bring more of me into their world rather than erasing my voice and essence.
In Ada the Country and The Six, you explore themes of womanhood. How do you see these narratives reflecting the broader experiences of African women today?
The experiences of African women are more expansive and nuanced than either Ada the Country or The Six could capture. Both are a snapshot, an opportunity to create dialogue. There are intersections in the themes of love, redemption, grief and sisterhood that I think ring true.
You’ve facilitated poetry workshops around the world. What’s the most surprising lesson you’ve learned from teaching poetry to different audiences?
Something I learned very early on that I always hold on to is that workshops are also a learning opportunity for me. The relationship between facilitator and participant is quite circular. On many occasions, I’ve heard a poem or insight from a person in my workshop that has completely shifted my perspective.
Poetry is so intimate, yet you’ve shared it on several global stages. What was it like performing at the Nigerian presidential inauguration in 2015? How did that moment shape you?
It was a career milestone that I’ll always carry with me. It was important to me to rise to the occasion and say something that spoke to the heart of the people, people who had been repeatedly led down and still insisted on hope. It was also a reminder that no matter the platform or how grand the moment, my core obligation is to show up as my authentic self and stand entirely in the truth of who I am.
How did it feel to be recognized as the 9th Poet Laureate of Edmonton, and what responsibilities come with holding such a title?
It was beautiful. Much of my evolution as an artist happened right here, and it was an honour to be recognized and to join the lineage of writers I love and admire. My work was to be a poetry ambassador for our city and to honour the stories of the people who call Edmonton home.
Sisterhood is at the heart of your album Sis. How do you define sisterhood, and why is it such an essential theme in your work?
Sisterhood is a sacred place, a world built and sustained by radical love, where I am held in community, where the best and worst of me can exist safely. It is an essential theme in my work because the quality of our lives is in the community we build. Eniyan l’aso mi—people are my clothes. I am covered by the love of the women I call my friends.
You’ve often used your voice to advocate for gender equity. How do you think the arts can further drive conversations around gender and social justice?
Artists are the truthtellers who reflect where we are and show us the gap between there and where we could be. Art illuminates and creates space for dialogue; at the very least, an artist’s work creates enough tension that allows social justice issues to no longer be ignored.
How has your exploration of technological literacy through Intel’s She Will Connect campaign influenced your thoughts on the digital divide for women in Africa?
My work as the She Will Connect ambassador put me in close contact with women and girls most impacted by the gaps in technological literacy. It was truly inspiring to see how, once access is established, these women transform not just their lives but the lives of everyone they have contact with. It reinforced my belief in investing in women and girls as the throughline to uplifting entire communities.
Outside the public eye, who is Titilope Sonuga? How do you unwind and nurture the creative well within you?
I spend time with family. I love to eat and sleep. I practice yoga almost daily, moving my body and getting out of head helps me reset.
