Ayo Selesi

Ayo Selesi Contact information, map and directions, contact form, opening hours, services, ratings, photos, videos and announcements from Ayo Selesi, Photographer, Abeokuta.

Lagos pulses with energy, resilience, every moment reflects the city's relentless hustle and hope.

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UPWASHThe one who goes first gets hit the hardest. where do we go..?
10/06/2026

UPWASH

The one who goes first gets hit the hardest. where do we go..?

I met a young man named Tunde during my stay in Epe last year. Each morning he walked to the river to bathe before the d...
10/06/2026

I met a young man named Tunde during my stay in Epe last year. Each morning he walked to the river to bathe before the day began. For three days I kept my distance, watching the quiet rhythm of his routine and the way he moved with the water.

On the fourth morning I spoke to him. He had just finished bathing and was brushing his teeth, letting the river rinse his mouth as he went. When I asked to take his photograph, he smiled and agreed.

I asked him, half-joking, why he came to the river every morning.
“The river is the purest water ever,” he said. “I come here to pray before my day starts.”

Documentary photography has taken me through different communities, beliefs, and struggles. And what stays with me is this: no matter how different our lives look, there comes a point where we all pray, and we all hope for something. Where do we go..?

This photograph is of Tunde, on the riverbank in Epe.

On March 29, 2026, unknown gunmen attacked Angwan Rukuba, a community in Jos, killing over 30 people and leaving many ot...
08/04/2026

On March 29, 2026, unknown gunmen attacked Angwan Rukuba, a community in Jos, killing over 30 people and leaving many others injured.

Residents say the cause of the violence is not just one incident, but a mix of immediate triggers and long-standing tensions—issues that have lingered for years without lasting solutions.

In response, the government imposed a curfew. Roads were blocked. Fear spread quickly.

By the roadside, people gathered around flames,burning black material poured directly onto the ground and ignited with petrol. The message was clear: protest, anger, frustration.

Jos,Plateau State.



Traffic is no longer news to road users passing through the Abuja–Lokoja Highway, especially FELELE, JAMATA BRIDGE where...
08/04/2026

Traffic is no longer news to road users passing through the Abuja–Lokoja Highway, especially FELELE, JAMATA BRIDGE where some now spend days, sometimes even weeks at a complete standstill. as a serious gridlock takes hold, often blocking both lanes at critical points and leaving thousands stranded with no clear end in sight.

A truck driver describes it simply:
“This road no longer moves. Once you enter, you don’t know when you will come out.”

Across the endless line of vehicles, travelers adapt in ways they never imagine in d. Men are seen sleeping under their trucks seeking refuge

Each passing day carries a cost. For drivers, it is income lost. For passengers, it is time that can never be recovered. For some, it means missing moments that matter family, work, opportunities slipping away beyond the unmoving line of traffic.

At certain points, where both lanes are completely blocked, the situation becomes even more tense. Drivers attempt risky maneuvers, tempers flare, and the fragile order begins to break. And so, people wait.
it has become the reality of Lokoja road, where do we go..?

Lokoja, Kogi State.

SURVIVAL I once considered getting a tattoo as a deliberate mark to claim my own narrative. It made me wonder about the...
08/02/2026

SURVIVAL

I once considered getting a tattoo as a deliberate mark to claim my own narrative. It made me wonder about the purpose of a story if the feelings behind it cannot be shared.
While searching for the elder twins at the 2025 Twin Festival, my eyes caught a different kind of symmetry on a face marked by scars. A little girl stood partially hidden behind a wall, watching the festive activities from a distance. She seemed haunted by the fear of being seen, yet her presence was undeniable.
Driven by a quiet curiosity, I approached her. I asked if she was a twin, what her name was, and perhaps too boldly, the story behind the marks on her skin.
She remained silent. Even as I gently cajoled her to speak, the words would not come. But in that heavy silence, a realization took hold:
Healing does not always mean disappearing. Some stories are not meant to be told through speech; they are lived through the skin. Her scars were proof that survival is a permanent record. They are a testament that some chapters never truly fade, even after the pain has ended. Where do we go..?

Igbo Ora, Ibadan, Oyo State.


LENS4GOOD​I recently spotted myself in the background picture of a post by . Yes, that was indeed me! Seeing that versio...
08/02/2026

LENS4GOOD
​
I recently spotted myself in the background picture of a post by . Yes, that was indeed me! Seeing that version of me holding a camera sparked a sudden realization. It is one thing to be present in a room, but it is another to truly inhabit it, especially when that room is filled with talented photographers, top content creators, the Lagos State Governor, and His Royal Majesty, .
​The atmosphere was defined by the theme "The Stories That Move Us," and its depth moved me to sit in quiet reflection. As I pulled out my phone to jot down a few thoughts, I found myself reminiscing about my media page and the core reasons I began this journey. I thought deeply about the motivation behind every storyline I have captured and the many significant stories that are still waiting to be told.
​This internal dialogue was eventually interrupted by my boss, who kept prompting me to make the most of the occasion. Taking that advice to heart, I stepped into action.
​I picked up my camera to capture the room through my own lens, and introduced myself to those around me with a confident smile. In that transition from observer to participant, I firmly reminded myself of a fundamental truth: I am not just a bystander; I am a documentary photographer. Where do we go..?

(National Theatre), Iganmu, Lagos.

THE 99 "Where do we go…?" These were the words Bayo Awodeji always said to me whenever we were being pursued by securit...
08/02/2026

THE 99

"Where do we go…?" These were the words Bayo Awodeji always said to me whenever we were being pursued by security for sleeping in class during my ND days. It is funny how a phrase from the past can return to haunt or heal you. Back then, it was a question of physical escape, but lately, it has become a question of the soul.

Sometimes you do not even know the story you are about to tell or how it will feel to tell it. Still, there are moments you carry quietly, knowing you will give them a voice someday.
This is the shape my story took.

For a long time, I have found peace in weightlifting, long bicycle rides, and distance jogging. I have leaned on Brymo’s music, traveling, and more recently, my camera lens and a few books. These have been my anchors for years. Yet, despite these outlets, something remained that would not give me peace.

So one morning, I woke up and decided to visit Abeokuta, hoping the journey would help me worry less about the worries I had carried for far too long.

In spite of that heavy start, I found myself dancing and singing.....Mayo, mayo, mayo ooh, lórí Olúmọ̀…
That was the song my tour guide, Mr. OJ, used to pull me into a tender memory as we climbed the 120 steps to Olumo Rock. He switched voices like a seasoned performer, making me laugh and making me drift. For a moment, I forgot myself. I even forgot to photograph the details of the mountain because I was so caught up in the life of the moment.

Later, I brought out my camera and returned to a spot I had noticed earlier. There were old concrete pillars, darkened by time and paved with countless names etched using stones. I stood there for a long time, looking at those marks and signatures, seeing them as proof that others had stood exactly where I was standing. I imagined history someday looking back and saying I was here too.

I picked up a stone and filled in my surname in one of the open spaces. As the stone grated against the Wall, I felt a strange shift. It was as if

Ará ÒrunI was on a call with my friend Emma, an eyewitness to the Adamu Orisha play last week. His voice carried a mix o...
08/02/2026

Ará Òrun

I was on a call with my friend Emma, an eyewitness to the Adamu Orisha play last week. His voice carried a mix of amusement and awe as he narrated how he was compelled to remove his shoes and cap, walking barefoot from Idumota to Tafawa Balewa Square (TBS) in obedience to Eyo cultural law. There was no resistance, just a quiet grounding surrender to the ancient dust of Lagos. This collective act of humility was for the sake of the departed.
The Eyo Festival had emerged to honor the legacies of notable souls:Alhaja Abibat Mogaji (Iyaloja-General and mother of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu), Brigadier-General Mobolaji Johnson (the first Military Administrator of Lagos), Alhaji Lateef Kayode Jakande (the first civilian Governor of Lagos), and Sir Michael Otedola (former civilian Governor). These figures who were once the pillars of the living are now the reason the street stood still.
In the Yoruba tradition, Eyo are more than just masquerade.They are called Ará Òrun who are beings from the spirit world who return briefly to walk among us. As they sing, dance and pray through the streets, they act as a spiritual es**rt, ushering important souls into the Great Beyond while restoring balance to the land they left behind.
Their presence serves as a haunting reminder of our own journey.We see their likeness everywhere,even in a portrait of Eyo imagery on the side of a passing danfo, reminding us that the spirit world is never truly far from the concrete. Where do we go?
MO YỌ FÚN Ẹ, MO YỌ FÚNRA MI

Idumota, Lagos state.

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THE PRICE OF EXCELLENCEDuring my recent visit to Abeokuta over the Christmas break, I went sightseeing at the Federal Un...
01/01/2026

THE PRICE OF EXCELLENCE

During my recent visit to Abeokuta over the Christmas break, I went sightseeing at the Federal University of Agriculture, Abeokuta (FUNAAB) with a longtime friend, . The campus was beautiful calm, expansive, and rich in aesthetic views, offering a truly serene experience.

While exploring, I met Tolu, a Crop Production student. She sat alone, deeply immersed in her books. Her dedication was striking. Instead of traveling home for Christmas and the New Year, she chose to remain on campus to prepare for her upcoming exams. While I firmly believe that preparation and consistency are the foundations of success, her decision made me reflect on life’s delicate balance—studies may be for a season, but family is forever.

Tolu’s academic strategy was impressive. She follows a disciplined routine, intentionally sacrificing hours each day to study for each course. Capturing her in that moment sparked something in me. It pushed me to reflect on my own growth, especially as I had recently received two books from my sister, , as Christmas gifts. One of them, Managing Your Emotions by Joyce Meyer, stood out. I realized that adopting Tolu’s structured approach could help me start the year with intention and build a consistent reading discipline.

To me, reading is more than the acquisition of knowledge—it is a wellspring of inspiration, a quiet discipline that fuels personal growth and self-awareness. Where do we go from here…?

Abeokuta, Ogun state

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