By Rita Okoye

On July 27 2025, I stepped into Espacio Gallery for the final day of the Euphoria of Colours Art Exhibition, and within minutes I found myself standing in front of the work of Balikis Badru, also known as Kejii. I hadn’t heard of her before, but I’ll never forget her now. Her collection of paintings didn’t just sit on the wall. They spoke. They whispered memories, emotions, and truths that felt so familiar and yet entirely new.

The first canvas I saw was of a woman lying down, her body curled in slightly but her eyes wide open. The background was a storm of colour—thick strokes of red bleeding into streaks of blue and white. Some areas looked like they had been scraped away, others layered on thickly.

The contrast between the wildness around her and the softness of her skin created a kind of tension I couldn’t look away from. Her eyes met mine across the room, and even though she didn’t speak, I felt like she was telling me a story I already knew. It was about fragility, resilience, and everything in between.

To the side of her was another woman, this time painted from behind, the shadows of her body glowing against a vivid red background. Her figure was bold, full, unhidden. In one hand, she held a cigarette, smoke curling up beside her head. It wasn’t just about the body. It was about presence. About owning space without apology. She didn’t need to turn around to be seen. She was already fully there.

The brushwork on this one was smoother, more defined, but the emotional effect was just as intense.

There was a shift in tone with the next piece—a silhouette of a woman kneeling, surrounded by a burst of square brushstrokes in glowing, earthy colours. Her posture was open but grounded, like she was mid-meditation or prayer. The background felt like a tapestry, a collection of fragments brought together with care. It reminded me of moments of stillness when everything around you is moving fast. That kind of sacred pause.

The painting of the nude golden figure beside a guitar was one of the most lyrical pieces I’ve ever seen. Her curves matched the roundness of the instrument, and her pose felt like a dance. The gradient background moved from warm orange to deep green, giving the piece a glowing, cinematic feel. It didn’t feel like a portrait. It felt like a song in visual form. Music, emotion, and femininity merged into one expression. It was the kind of artwork that makes you exhale.

Right beside it, two figures moved gracefully around what looked like a treble clef, their forms locked in an intimate kind of dance. It felt like connection without words. Not just romantic, but deeply human. The simplicity of the shapes made the meaning even more striking. You didn’t need faces or backgrounds to understand what was happening. You could feel it.

The last painting in the lineup exploded with colour. It was abstract, chaotic, joyful, and mysterious all at once. The brushstrokes swirled in pink, red, purple, yellow, and blue. Some areas looked like they were smeared with urgency, others dotted gently with care. It reminded me of childhood, of joy, of messiness and freedom. I loved how open it was. It felt like a dance, a celebration, a letting go.

Throughout the exhibition, Kejii’s words echoed in my mind: “This has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my creative journey so far.” And it was clear why. Her art wasn’t just beautiful. It was full of feeling. It was personal and universal at once.

The lighting in the gallery helped every canvas shine, catching the texture in each stroke. People gathered around her work, some taking photos, others simply staring. It wasn’t loud or showy. It was soulful. Honest. And deeply human.

By the time I walked out of the gallery, I felt like I had just had a long, important conversation with someone who truly sees the world through feeling. That is what Kejii does with her art. She sees, she feels, and then she gives it to us—no filter, no barriers. Just truth. And it is unforgettable.