Turning 40

There is something strangely confronting about writing the number down.

Forty.

Not because I feel old, I actually don’t (and friends would attest that 04 sometimes seems more adequate), but because time suddenly becomes tangible. The math starts to tell stories your mind hasn’t quite caught up with yet.

For the longest time, I somehow kept seeing myself as the 27-year-old who arrived in Lagos with two suitcases, stepping into humid December air on the 22nd of 2011, waiting for an internship at CLEEN Foundation to begin and still deeply immersed in developmental work and advocacy. In my memory, that version of me feels close enough to touch.

But when you are born in May 1986 in Remscheid, Germany, the numbers do what they do. And suddenly you realise almost fifteen years have passed since that moment. And that I was actually 25 when Nigeria became my base before becoming home. Wild.

Years of exploration

My twenties were, without question, years of exploration. I travelled, studied, started over more than once, learned quickly what did not work for me and followed curiosity more than certainty. Looking back now, I realise I was probably searching for a form of expression long before I had the language for it. Because creativity was always there.

Art, interiors, objects, my mum’s photography, textures, languages, spaces - these things followed me quietly throughout my life and especially my travels. Even when I took different professional routes, I knew instinctively that I was drawn to environments, the systems behind them, aesthetics and storytelling. I just did not yet understand how deeply.

Life in Nigeria eventually brought me closer to craftsmanship in a very real way. Through my work in proximity to artisans and makers within the building industry end of the 2010s, I saw immense talent existing alongside immense gaps: lack of infrastructure, lack of support systems, lack of tools, lack of visibility. And still, there was brilliance and immense talent.

COVID shifted many things for many people. For me, it shifted geography and perspective alike. I moved permanently from Lagos to Abuja and found myself increasingly frustrated by how limited the interior landscape often felt between imported luxury and poorly executed imitation. I kept asking myself the same question:

Why does locally produced have to mean less refined?

I knew we had more to offer. More material intelligence. More creativity and greater cultural depth. Better craftsmanship. We just needed better translation. That question eventually became AD Design.

Before launching the studio in late October 2022, I spent years studying interior design more intentionally. Between 2020 and 2022, I immersed myself in courses, masterclasses and design education while juggling other responsibilities and work obligations at the same time (still til date). I started with smaller projects for friends and first clients, experimented with product ideas with a good deal of product sales, and took on work that often never fully materialised into portfolio-ready outcomes.

Imposter syndrome and rebuilding clarity

And if I am honest, there were moments where I became deeply anxious.

I struggled with imposter syndrome more than I admitted publicly. Especially because I did not follow the traditional route of a full design degree. I questioned myself often. Wondered whether passion, instinct and the attention for details were enough in an industry that can sometimes feel very guarded and performative.

So I stopped for a while.

Not emotionally, because I kept studying and devouring interior content that deeply stimulated me. The vision never left me, but professionally I took a backseat. There was a period of almost two years without projects. From the outside, it may have looked like inactivity. In reality, I was trying to rebuild clarity.

I kept refining what I wanted AD Design to feel like. What kind of projects I wanted to attract. What kind of visual language felt honest to me. By September 2025, I understood that I would never feel truly ready if I’d wait for my portfolio to match my vision. So I built the website slowly. Started writing weekly blog posts which I enjoy so much. Began the monthly newsletter AD Journal. And finally organically populated Instagram with intention.

And somewhere in that process, I realised something important: I already knew who I was creatively. I had simply been waiting for my own permission to embrace this part of me.

Thus, returning to design fully towards the beginning of 2026 felt less like reinvention and more like acceptance. It was a quiet decision to stop diluting myself and stop apologising for nonlinear paths. And also to trust that experience, my observation, discipline and perspective also matter deeply in creative work.

Lessons

If my twenties were about discovery, then my thirties were certainly about lessons.

Beautiful ones. Heavy ones. Some I would never voluntarily ask for again, but were important regardless for which I am grateful. All of them are shaping me in ways I understand better now.

And perhaps that is why turning forty feels less confronting than expected. It feels clarifying. I no longer feel the same urgency to prove myself, especially not creatively. What interests me now is depth. Better work. Stronger ideas. More meaningful projects. A clearer design language that feels both globally relevant and deeply rooted in context.

Outlook to the next chapter

I want AD Design to stretch further: in scale, materiality, ambition and collaboration. I want us to take on projects that challenge convention, push local production forward and continue exploring what sophisticated African interiors can look and feel like without imitation.

Because I strongly believe the future of design on this continent will come from people who understand both worlds: global references and local realities.

The last decade moved incredibly fast. Faster than I could have imagined. But looking back, I realise every detour, every pause and every difficult season sharpened something important. I feel grateful for the friends and clients who trusted us before there was much proof to show.

AD Design is still at the very beginning. And strangely enough, I feel like I am too.