Yagazie Eguare is a visionary, creative entrepreneur, storyteller, and the Founder of Gazmadu Ltd, a leading visual storytelling company based in Lagos, Nigeria. Through Gazmadu, she partners with visionary leaders and organizations to shape how they are seen, remembered, and experienced, using timeless portraiture and documentary storytelling to amplify influence, clarify positioning, and preserve legacy.
Since beginning her journey in 2012, Yagazie has built Gazmadu into a trusted creative partner for high-performing individuals and forward-thinking brands. Her work goes beyond photography, creating intentional visual assets that serve as both cultural documentation and strategic tools for visibility, authority, and long-term brand value.
With a background in Optometry, her transition into storytelling was driven by a deeper calling to influence perception, how people see themselves, how brands communicate their essence, and how stories shape legacy across generations.
Beyond client work, Yagazie is deeply committed to developing the creative ecosystem in Africa. Through her education initiatives, now evolving into ELEVÉ Creatives, she has equipped thousands of creatives with the mindset, structure, and business clarity required to build sustainable and globally relevant careers.
Her work has been featured across national and international platforms, and at the core of her journey is a commitment to purpose-led leadership, building with excellence, serving with depth, and telling stories that outlive the moment.
Yagazie, tell us about yourself and the earliest days of the GazMadu brand.
I am God’s beloved daughter. A city set on a hill that cannot be hidden. At my core, I am a builder, a storyteller, and someone deeply committed to igniting possibilities in people and in the world around me.
The early days of Gazmadu were driven by pure passion and conviction. I was a young woman who had finally found the thing she loved, something I had carried quietly for years. Once I picked up a camera, there was no turning back. It became my language, my space, my way of seeing and interpreting the world. At the time, the idea that people would pay me for something I loved so deeply felt surreal. But I gave it everything. I built from scratch, learning, experimenting, showing up consistently, and pouring myself into the work.
Between 2015 and 2017, there was a shift. I began to understand that passion alone was not enough. I wasn’t just called to create images, I was called to build something far more meaningful. A structure. A standard. A body of work that would impact people, shape perception, and contribute to the world in a deeper way. That was when Gazmadu was formally established, not just as a photography brand, but as a platform for storytelling, influence, and legacy. Everything we are today has been built intentionally over time, and I remain deeply grateful to God for the journey and the responsibility.
We often see the “beauty” of creative leaders, but rarely the messy middle. What were the “old versions” of Yagazie that you had to leave behind to make room for the GazMadu of 2026?
One of the biggest versions of myself I had to leave behind was the version that defined her identity too narrowly. For a long time, I saw myself primarily through the lens of photography. And while photography has been a powerful vehicle for my purpose, it was never the full expression of who I am.
Over the years, I have built more than a body of work, I have built a brand, a system, a standard. I have worked with remarkable individuals and organizations, helped people step into deeper ownership of who they are, and contributed meaningfully to the growth and structure of the creative industry.
But growth requires honesty.
Coming into this season, it became very clear to me that holding on to a smaller definition of myself was limiting the level of impact I am called to have. I had to let go of the comfort of being “just a photographer” and fully embrace the weight and responsibility of who I have become, a builder, a leader, and a strategic storyteller.
This transition is not always neat or convenient. It requires unlearning, stretching, and choosing alignment over familiarity. But that is what has made room for the Gazmadu you see today, a brand that is not just creating beautiful work, but shaping perception, amplifying influence, and building legacy at a much higher level.
Why do you believe women, particularly African women, are reluctant to document their own progress? Is it humility or a lack of space?
I don’t believe it is a lack of space, the space has always existed. What is often missing is the decision to step into it fully and unapologetically.
And I wouldn’t call it humility either. True humility is not shrinking or hiding. It is getting out of your own way and honouring the gift God has placed inside of you by using it to serve others. If it is neither of those, then we have to be honest about what it really is.
In many cases, it is a mix of pride and self-imposed limitation. Pride, in the sense that we overthink, over-explain, and sometimes resist being seen until everything feels perfect or fully validated. And limitation, in the way we internalise expectations, question our readiness, and hold back from documenting the very journeys that are shaping us.
There is also a subtle tension many women carry, the desire to protect what was never truly at risk. Your story, your growth, your becoming, these are not things to hide. They are part of the value you bring to the world. At Gazmadu, we see this every day. When women choose to be seen, to document their progress with intention and clarity, it doesn’t just change how others perceive them, it changes how they see themselves.
And that shift is powerful.
As someone whose work empowers individuals to “feel seen,” how do you manage the responsibility of shaping a woman’s self-perception?
It is a responsibility I hold very deeply, and I do not take it lightly.
Every time I create a portrait of a woman, I approach it with a strong sense of intention and reverence. For me, it goes beyond taking a beautiful image. It is about standing in the gap to reveal what God has already placed inside her, in a way that she can see, own, and carry with confidence.
I am constantly aware that what we create in that moment does not stay in that room. It travels. It lives on her phone, in her home, across platforms, and in the spaces she steps into. Over time, it begins to shape how she sees herself, how others perceive her, and even the kind of opportunities that come her way.
So this is not just creative work. It is responsibility. It is influence. It is stewardship. That awareness humbles me every time. It reminds me that this is never just about skill or experience. It is about alignment, being present, being intentional, and allowing the work to serve a purpose far greater than the moment. And that is what guides me every single time.
Tell us about your most recent project or campaign?
One of our most defining projects is SHERISES, a body of work that has been in development since 2022.
It was born out of a very personal season in my life. I went through a period where everything felt uncertain, almost like I had reached a roadblock. As someone who is deeply ambitious and driven by vision, it was difficult not being able to clearly see what the future held or how everything I carried would come to life.
In that moment, I found myself reflecting on women I admire, women who have built, led, and sustained meaningful lives and careers. I began to ask questions. Did they ever experience seasons like this? Did things always make sense for them? Or were there parts of their journey that were never fully seen or shared?
What I discovered was this: there is no rising without process. There is no visibility without seasons of obscurity. And many of the women we admire today have walked through deeply complex, often unseen journeys to become who they are.
SHERISES was created to document those stories. We are intentionally telling the stories of women, particularly those 50 and above, capturing not just where they are now, but the journey it took to get there. The decisions, the sacrifices, the resilience, the becoming.
At Gazmadu, we see this as more than a creative project. It is cultural documentation. It is a reframing of what success looks like. And it is a mirror for the next generation of women, especially in moments where things feel uncertain, to see that it is possible to rise, even through complexity. This is an ongoing body of work, and we will continue to document stories of women rising across generations, sectors, and industries.
“She Rises” talks about “rising through uncertainty.” When you originally launched GazMadu in 2012, what was the loudest doubt you had to overcome?
The loudest doubt I had to confront was the fear of disappointing my parents.
At the time, I had just graduated as a Doctor of Optometry, and choosing to walk away from that path to pursue photography felt like stepping into complete uncertainty. I knew, deeply, that this was what I was called to do, but that didn’t silence the questions.
What if this doesn’t work?
What if no one believes in me?
What if they were right, that you can’t truly build something meaningful in this field?
Those thoughts were loud. But I had to make a decision. To either stay within what was safe and expected, or to trust the conviction I had been given, even without having all the answers.
Looking back now, I realise that the real work was not eliminating the doubt, but choosing not to be led by it because every meaningful journey begins that way, with a clear calling, and a very real uncertainty.
You’ve progressed from an artist to an educator of 10,000 and counting. In an environment where formal creative infrastructure is limited, do you view yourself more as a photographer or as the founder of a new African institution that demands the world take creatives a lot more seriously?
At this stage, I see myself far beyond being a photographer. I am an institutional builder. Photography was the entry point, but the work has evolved into something much larger. Over the years, I have had the privilege of impacting over 10,000 creatives, not just in skill, but in how they see themselves, how they value their work, and how they build with intention.
I have also spent close to a decade building Gazmadu into one of the most structured and profitable creative businesses in Nigeria. So for me, this is not theoretical. I practice what I teach, and I am still committed to learning and evolving.
My experience, especially through completing my MBA at Lagos Business School, has further reinforced the scale of opportunity and the gap that still exists within the creative economy in Africa. There is a lot of work to be done in building systems, structures, and standards that position creatives not just as artists, but as serious contributors to economic and cultural growth.
That understanding has shaped the work we are doing through our education and capacity-building initiatives, now evolving into ELEVÉ Creatives, as well as platforms like the Art, Business and Creativity Conference. So while photography remains a core part of my expression, the bigger assignment is clear. It is to help build an ecosystem where creatives are equipped, valued, and taken seriously on a global stage. And we are only just getting started.
What “failed” project has taught you the most about rising?
About three years ago, we launched a campaign internally targeted at a specific client segment, and it didn’t perform at all. By every traditional metric, it failed.
But that experience shaped my thinking in a very important way. I no longer see failure as an endpoint. I see it as data. What matters is not just what happens, but how you respond to it.
I am quick to acknowledge when something isn’t working, but I have learnt not to dwell there. Instead, I take the time to step back, analyse what went wrong, identify what could have been done better, and most importantly, decide what the next move needs to be.
Rising is not about avoiding the fall. It is about how you carry yourself through it. It requires grace, the kind that allows you to keep showing up without being weighed down by one outcome. It requires honesty, so you can grow from the experience. And it requires movement.
Sometimes that movement is slow. Sometimes it feels like you are crawling. Other times, you are moving with speed and clarity. But the key is this, you do not stop.
Because over time, it is that consistency, that willingness to keep going, that shapes both the journey and the outcome.
When a lady looks at a GazMadu photograph, what do you want her to see that she may have missed in her own mirror?
I want her to see the fullness of who she truly is.
Not just the version shaped by doubt, pressure, or expectation, but the woman God created her to be. Whole. Enough. Complete. Confident. Worthy of everything good that life has to offer. I want her to see herself with clarity and ownership. To recognise that she is not becoming that woman someday, she already is. And to embrace that truth unapologetically.
At the same time, I want her to understand that she is allowed to be both a work of art and a work in progress. Those two things can exist together. They should. And beyond what she sees in that moment, I want her to leave with a deeper knowing that there is still so much more within her. That her story is still unfolding. That her possibilities are not limited to what she has experienced so far.
What was one act of “quiet courage” you did last week that no one saw, but pushed the needle for you?
I asked for help. I was very clear about what I needed, and I communicated it openly, without hiding behind pride, guilt, or the pressure to have it all figured out.
For someone who is naturally positioned to help others, that was not easy. It required humility and honesty. But it moved the needle in a way I could not have achieved on my own. It reminded me of something powerful, you are not meant to fight your battles alone.
And sometimes, the real courage is in allowing yourself to be supported.
Finally, your career is a bridge, who are you most hoping will walk across it, and what do you want them to find on the other side?
I see my career as a bridge that is led by God, that I am guided step by step, to be where I need to be, when I need to be there, doing what I am called to do, and connecting with the people I am meant to serve and grow with.
Through that journey, my desire is twofold. First, that the bridge creates a clear pathway for those coming behind me, so they can rise with greater clarity, structure, and a stronger sense of what is possible.
And second, that it positions me to be in the right rooms, connected to the right people ahead of me, so that I can continue to grow, stretch, and build at a higher level. On the other side of that bridge, I want people to find expansion.
A deeper sense of who they are.
The courage to own it fully.
And the structure to build something meaningful, sustainable, and impactful. Because ultimately, the goal is not just to cross the bridge, but to become who you are called to be in the process.
*Get to know about Yagazie Eguare and read more about the work she does.
