At the One Off Art Gallery, prison uniforms dominate the canvases in Chorus of Beings, the new exhibition by artists Newton Eshivachi and Paul Njihia. The striped outfits appear again and again, draped over protestors, mourners and ordinary citizens navigating scenes that feel unmistakably Kenyan. They are not merely costumes. They are metaphors.
For Eshivachi, the recurring uniforms symbolise the many invisible systems that shape modern life.
‘They represent the fact that we are controlled not only by political systems, but also by social, technological and economic structures that shape our reality,’ he says.
Across the exhibition, acrylic-on-canvas works wrestle with corruption, state violence, collective memory and public frustration. The paintings blur the boundary between documentation and critique, turning recent Kenyan experiences into unsettling visual narratives.
One of the standout works, Mathare Breweries Limited, draws on the artist’s familiarity with Nairobi’s informal settlements and interrogates the contradictions surrounding the fight against illicit alcohol.
‘On paper, government policy says there is zero tolerance for corruption in the fight against illicit brews,’ Eshivachi explains. ‘But on the ground, police officers are often the enablers because they accept bribes from brewers to allow the business to continue.’
Another piece, State Funeral at Nyayo Stadium, revisits the chaos surrounding the viewing of the late former Prime Minister Raila Odinga’s body, an event that descended into disorder and tragedy.
‘My paintings are live sketches,’ he says. ‘That piece was inspired by my own experience there.’
The exhibition arrives at a moment when many younger Kenyan artists are increasingly using visual art as a form of political and social commentary. Eshivachi’s work belongs firmly within that tradition, though his approach differs from the satirical playfulness associated with artists such as Michael Soi. His visual language is more direct, confrontational and emotionally charged.
‘I have to tell it as it is,’ he says. ‘My art is merely documenting the truth.’
Underlying the exhibition is a conceptual framework Eshivachi describes as ‘critical realism’ – an attempt to move beyond surface appearances and examine the hidden systems producing what people eventually experience.
‘It is three-pronged,’ he explains. ‘You have the empirical, which is what we can see; the actual, which we cannot directly see; and then the real, which consists of the behind-the-scenes mechanisms contributing to what we eventually experience.’
That tension between appearance and reality runs throughout Chorus of Beings. Crowded public spaces feel claustrophobic. Authority figures loom uneasily. Citizens appear trapped inside systems they neither fully understand nor control.
The exhibition also reflects a shift in Eshivachi’s own artistic direction. While he had long explored community and social themes in his work, the Gen Z protests marked a turning point in how explicitly political his art became.
‘I realised my art could not just exist to decorate spaces,’ he says. ‘Given the state of the country, it had to address the political realities around us. I decided to use art as a voice and as a weapon.’
That approach, he admits, has sometimes complicated opportunities for institutional recognition. Some galleries and institutions have been hesitant to exhibit work carrying overt political messaging.
‘I understand that showing my work can feel like throwing stones at a police station,’ he says with a laugh. ‘But I am okay with that. Governments rarely like uncomfortable truths.’
Still, Chorus of Beings is less interested in offering slogans than in capturing a broader sense of unease. The paintings suggest imprisonment not only through politics, but through economic precarity, social pressures and systems of control woven quietly into everyday life.
‘I wouldn’t call myself a political activist,’ Eshivachi says. ‘I try to show the underlying structures that generate what we can observe. The issues are broader – economic, social, legal and structural. It is the entire gamut of forces that shape our lives.’