For Olaolu Slawn, creating art has never been a quiet process. His work is often fast, instinctive, and chaotic. But when you read between these lines, you learn it's a reflection of the environments that shaped him.
Since being discovered and moving from his home in Lagos to London in 2017, Slawn has carved out a distinctive lane, blending a visual language defined by exaggerated figures, heavy linework, and raw colour. Beneath the surface, his work explores identity, race, and the realities of navigating life as part of a diaspora.
The result is a cult following that has propelled him from an underground favourite to one of the most in-demand young artists in the world. This same energy has also translated seamlessly into fashion. Whether it’s through disruptive campaigns alongside Clint419 and Corteiz, his Motherlan imprint, or creating his own Air Max 90 with Nike, Slawn has consistently approached collaboration on his own terms.
Now, this approach has returned to where it all began. Over the weekend, Nike tapped Slawn to unveil the first of its hotly anticipated X2: '26 Collab Kits, collaborating with Slawn at Lagos' Homecoming Festival on his biggest work of art yet: a hand-painted, Slawn-designed football pitch. Homecoming Cup is the festival's annual tournament where teams go head-to-head in a series of 5-a-side games and Slawn coached his own hand-selected team, Slawn All Stars, as the first to play in the Nigerian arm of the X2 '26 Collab Kits.
Rooted in the idea of “one game, one people, one canvas,” the collaboration places football at the centre of Nigeria’s cultural fabric, making it a clear unifier that connects communities and Nigerian icons. For example, footballing legends JayJay Okocha and Obafemi Martins showed up as special guests to the game and were gifted their own pairs of the unreleased Nike x Homecoming Air Max Plus TN. Through Slawn’s lens, that energy is translated into a collection that merges sport, identity, and expression, reworking Nike’s latest silhouettes with his unmistakable visual imprint.
Bringing the project back to Lagos feels intentional for Slawn and Nike, marking the beginning of a wider journey that starts at home. Celebrating this moment, we linked up with Slawn to discuss the X2: ‘26 collaboration kits, Homecoming Festival, his creative thought process, and more. Tap in!
Culted: Why did this feel like the right time to collaborate with Nike?
Slawn: When is the wrong time to collaborate with Nike? Every time is the right time. This is actually where I was discovered, during Homecoming. I was 17, that was 2018, I think. They might’ve been prepping for Homecoming. That’s how I met Grace, Alex, and Skepta’s team.
That was the first time I worked with Nike. I designed all the jersey patches, 200 of them. And that was the first big cheque I ever got. I was in Nigeria, moving like a madman.
Why does building a Slawn All Stars team mean something deeper to you at this point in your journey?
I don’t want to sound corny, but it’s called Homecoming. And people call me British Nigerian, I’m not. So it’s a good way to stand on that regardless of how I sound. I’m fully Nigerian. This project centres Nigeria as one game, one people, one canvas.
What does football represent to you personally?
I had asthma, so I played to the ability I could. I think every Nigerian boy knows how to play football to a high level, like how people from Kansas know baseball, or Dominicans and baseball. It’s just natural.
I feel like I called you a creative before, and you were like, “I’m not”… but this collaboration focuses on you as a creative. How important was it to protect that identity?
The identity was never really a thing to protect. It was more about having the freedom to make stuff. I don’t have an identity I’m trying to protect; I just want the ability to make stuff, which I’ve been given, and I’m very grateful for.
How would you self-identify?
Someone who makes stuff. That’s the easiest way to describe it. I think I could wake up tomorrow and be like, “I want a submarine.”
And you’d make one?
I’d find a way to get one, yeah.
You’re part of a new generation of Nigerian creators shaping global culture. What does that feel like?
I’ve never really thought about it like that. I don’t know, I feel like I’m just… Doing my own thing. You don’t really get to step out of it and look at it. Maybe one day, when I’m old. I’ll be able to look back and be like, “Oh wow, that was something.” Do you get what I mean?
There’s a strong sense of pride and boldness in the collection. How does “no wahala” show up in your approach and mindset?
That’s just Nigeria for you. “No wahala” basically means don’t fall behind, don’t lose guard, don’t falter. It’s a hard country. Everyone’s just trying to push forward and do what they can. It’s a hustle to do everything, so you just have to stay on point.
Taking this project back to Lagos feels intentional. What does it mean to you to start this journey at home?
I wish we made it to the World Cup, but we’re going to celebrate regardless. Nigerians are very prideful people; whether we make it or not, we’ll celebrate. For me, I come back often, but I haven’t really sat in it like this in a while. It’s important to me. I’m enjoying myself, honestly.
What do you want young Nigerians, whether they’re into football or art, to take away from this collaboration?
I don’t know if this is good advice, but… don’t think. That’s it. You can get too caught up in your head. I remember watching an interview when I was younger, the guy said he goes “3, 2, 1, go,” and when he says go, he just does whatever he was thinking about doing. I’ve kind of lived my life like that since then.
What’s one thing you’d want a young creative to learn from your story?
Honestly, right place, right time, and luck. People say you create your own luck and I don’t fully believe that. I think that’s something people who’ve had luck say. You just have to be in tune with yourself enough to be in the right place at the right time, and then with a bit of luck, and things fall into place. We live in a time where the internet moves so fast… You might as well just do it. Just do it.
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