Art by Zaram

17/08/2026

Artist Tips You Need

15/08/2026

The Shadow of 1969: When Innocence Met Silence.

When an army runs out of bullets, a war is supposed to end. But in 1969, inside the dwindling borders of Biafra, the exhaustion of ammunition did not bring peace—it brought slaughter to the defenseless.
​By late 1969, the Biafran front lines had collapsed. Short on arms, fuel, and soldiers, entire battalions dissolved, leaving millions of civilian refugees trapped in a shrinking enclave. What followed was a dark, documented chapter: as towns fell, non-combatants—who had no weapons to defend themselves and no military protection left—bore the full wrath of advancing forces.
​On September 30, 1968, inside the fallen town of Okigwe, federal soldiers overran a civilian zone and relief post. International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) workers and foreign journalists looked on in horror as over 100 innocent Biafran civilians—mothers, children, and elderly men hiding in homes and makeshift shelters—were executed in cold blood. International aid delegates and missionaries were gunned down alongside the very people they were trying to protect.
​Similar tragedies unfolded as troops moved into unfortified civilian centers throughout 1969. Foreign correspondents from outlets like the Financial Times and Look Magazine verified that over 85% of the total casualties in the war were not armed combatants, but unarmed civilians targeted in air raids, village sweeps, and ex*****on lines. When military resistance ceased, there was no mercy—only defenseless bodies cradled by grieving relatives in the smoking ruins of their homes.

​“Ọzọemena 1” brings you face-to-face with this heartbreaking reality: a man holding the lifeless body of his daughter against a skyline consumed by fire and smoke.
​Ọzọemena, which translates to "May it never happen again" is raw, haunting portrayal of unbearable grief, capturing the exact moment when silence fell over a fallen city.
​Rendered in powerful charcoal, this piece demands that we honor those whose stories were almost erased from history.

​Art is more than decoration; it is a keeper of memory and a voice for the voiceless. By adding Ọzọemena 1 to your collection, you preserve a history that must never be repeated.

​DM or click the link in bio for purchase inquiries and catalog details.

14/08/2026

13/08/2026

Day 2 of drawing my latest commission pencil portrait.

Another day working on this portrait. This time, I’m going for a bit more realism — using less pencil strokes and more powder and brush work. It’s interesting how understanding tones and contrast makes a bigger difference than zooming in on tiny details. Curious to see how it turns out!

13/08/2026

Bilié Zọba Onwe Gị (Arise and Save Yourself)

​Before the sun fully crowns the sky over Aba, the commercial heartbeat of Igboland is already drumming against the pavement. It begins with the low hum of early morning footsteps, the sudden clap of wooden shutters opening, and the steady, rhythmic movement of men and women who know that destiny does not meet a sleeping soul.

​Bilié Zọba Onwe Gị is an ode to that sacred, unyielding Igbo spirit: the truth that no matter where you start, survival and triumph are forged by your own hands through diligence, grit, and hard work.

​In this piece, the vibrant, layered chaos of Aba comes alive. You see the towering blue hub standing tall against a swirling sky—a landmark of trade, innovation, and relentless enterprise. You see the figures below, moving through the gold and green hues of a fresh day: the street vendor carrying her goods with grace and poise, the hustlers weaving through the crowd, and the anonymous faces that power the economic engine of a nation.

​In Igbo philosophy, we do not wait for rain to fall before we dig our trenches. We believe in Aka ajaja na amụta ọnụ mmanụ—that messy, hard-working hands bring about a mouth dripping with oil. Survival is not a passive gift; it is an active victory won daily. To step onto the streets of Aba is to witness an entire people refusing to be defeated by circumstances, turning mere ambition into tangible reality.

​This canvas captures more than a physical location; it captures an internal posture. It speaks directly to the soul of anyone who has ever woken up tired but pushed forward anyway. It is a reminder that your dream is worth the sweat, that your labour is your strength, and that your hustle carries the pride of generations before you.

​When life demands everything you have, look at this painting and hear the ancestral call: Bilié Zọba Onwe Gị. Arise, step out, work diligently, and carve out your own future.

​Artwork Details:
​Title: Bilié Zọba Onwe Gị
​Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
​Theme: Igbo Identity, Industry & The Spirit of Aba
​Artist: Art by Zaram

​Available for acquisition. Inquire via DM for portfolio catalog and pricing.

11/08/2026

The Echo of 10,000 Screams

​Imagine a silence so deep that a child’s cry sounds like thunder, only for that cry to be cut short because they lack the physical strength to scream.

​In the late summer of 1968, inside the blockaded enclave of Biafra, a humanitarian catastrophe was unfolding under the gaze of a mostly indifferent world. Following the land, sea, and air blockades enforced from June 1968 onward, basic necessities were cut off. Protein became non-existent, giving rise to kwashiorkor—a severe form of malnutrition that caused children’s stomachs to swell, their skin to peel, and their hair to turn a ghostly copper-red.

​By mid-1969, humanitarian organizations like Joint Church Aid and the International Committee of the Red Cross documented that between 1,000 to 6,000 children were dying of starvation every single day.
​One documented account from a Red Cross relief station near Udi in January 1969 detailed the scene: over 8,000 children a week were brought into a makeshift clinic carved out of the bush. Mothers walked miles barefoot through warzones, carrying infants whose ribs pressed sharply against paper-thin skin. Volunteer relief workers recalled that when food supplies ran out, there were no screams—only a collective, quiet weeping. By the time the war ended on January 15, 1970, over 1 million children and non-combatants had perished, not from bullets, but from hunger.

​
​The artwork “Ọzọemena II” captures that exact moment in history—the tear-streaked face of innocence caught in the fires of conflict, clutch at a heart that refuses to stop beating.
​Ọzọemena literally translates to "May it never happen again."
​This piece is not just charcoal on paper; it is a monument to resilience, a witness to history, and a plea for humanity.
​When you own Ọzọemena II, I hope you understand you are not just acquiring art—you are keeping a vital story alive so the world never forgets.
​
Ọzọemena II is available in High resolution printable digital format. DM for more enquiries!

08/08/2026

My new commission pencil drawing has been framed and delivered!

07/08/2026

Day 3 and final day of drawing my latest commission pencil portrait.

Today was the last day working on this pencil portrait. I tried a different approach, moving away from hyper-realism to keep that pencil sketch feel. Honestly, I struggled with keeping the shading strokes visible yesterday, but today I decided to focus on making them even more pronounced, especially on the clothes. It was a really interesting process to see how it all came together.
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