The soft opening of the Museum of West African Art (MOWAA) in Benin City, Edo State, was anything but soft. What was meant to be a celebration of culture and creativity quickly turned into a protest site as hundreds of locals, traditionalists, and members of the Benin royal court gathered to voice their discontent. Their grievance? The alleged disregard of the authority of the Oba of Benin, the revered custodian of Benin’s heritage, and concerns about the museum’s claim over the Benin Bronzes which are centuries-old treasures looted during the British invasion of 1897.
For the protesters, the issue runs deeper than curatorial ownership, it is about identity, respect, and ancestral authority. They argue that MOWAA, though envisioned as a modern center for African art, was established without full consultation with the Oba’s palace, which they believe holds the spiritual and cultural right to decide where the Benin Bronzes should reside. “You cannot build a house of heritage while ignoring the king whose ancestors created that heritage,” one protester was quoted saying. Their chants echoed through the city: “Our heritage is not for sale!”
On the other hand, MOWAA’s representatives have emphasized that the museum’s mission is not to dispossess the Benin Kingdom but to serve as a world-class institution for research, preservation, and education about African art. The project, backed by international donors and the Edo State government, aims to make Benin City a global art destination and a homecoming hub for repatriated artefacts. However, critics insist that no matter how noble the vision, any initiative that sidelines traditional authority risks repeating colonial patterns of cultural control.
The controversy over the Benin Bronzes has long been a moral test for both Nigeria and the global art community. As major Western museums gradually return stolen artefacts, questions of where and how these pieces should be kept have become increasingly delicate. Should they belong to the Nigerian government, the Edo State, or directly to the Benin Royal Court? For many citizens, the answer is clear: the bronzes are sacred royal relics, and only the Oba of Benin has the ancestral right to guard them.
The Benin protest serves as a loud reminder that cultural heritage is not merely an exhibition, it is a living legacy tied to history, people, and power. MOWAA may symbolize progress, but progress without cultural consent breeds resentment. As the debate unfolds, the hope remains that dialogue will replace discord, and that both modern institutions and traditional custodians can find common ground to protect what truly belongs to Benin and, by extension, to Africa.
