Narrator: Before casting
this sculpture in bronze, Ebuwa Fred Ilhama covers it with the red earth of
Nigeria's Benin City. These Benin bronzes are made the same way Fred's ancestors crafted
them more than 500 years ago. The artifacts have been
in the news recently as calls grow louder
to return the bronzes, which were looted and housed in museums across the Western world. While more and more of these
bronzes are being returned, only about 40 artisans remain
making new sculptures today, and they worry the craft
won't survive much longer. Narrator: They say the problem
is Nigeria's government will invest in the return
of stolen Benin bronzes, but they're not investing enough
in today's bronze casters. We went to Benin City to see how this craft is still standing and if artists can keep it
that way for much longer. To make a Benin bronze

Fred starts off by creating
the core of the piece — a rough mold out of the
red earth from Igun Street. This quarter was once
bustling with craftsmen, but today it's left with only a few dozen. They make up the Royal
Guild of Bronze Casters. Fred is one of these craftsmen, carrying on the legacy of his ancestors. Narrator: The core is made of
red earth from the same area bronze craftsmen have used for centuries. This statue is Fred's interpretation of the various busts of
Oba Esigie, or King Esigie, the ruler of the Benin Kingdom
in the early 16th century. He'll craft the bronze
with the same techniques the original craftsmen used. Narrator: When the wax is soft enough, Fred covers the core with
it and turns his attention to the more intricate
details of the art piece. He does this the traditional
way, with a cow bone.

Narrator: The purpose of Benin bronzes has always been to record history, like a depiction of an important event or something as simple as a king's unique style of dress. Narrator: Now that the details of the bust are complete, Fred covers it in layers of wet red earth. Some of Fred's earliest memories are playing with this red powdery soil. Narrator: As Fred is finishing up, he inserts at the base of the piece two bones, around which he forms an outlet where the melted wax will escape. Fred leaves the piece to dry overnight. The next day, Fred prepares the mold for firing. Narrator: Every part of the mold is covered except for the outlet. Now Fred can put it in the fire. This is where the meticulous preparation pays off. The wax around the inner core melts off and escapes through the outlet, creating a space between the layers of hardened soil in the shape of Oba Esigie.

This is called lost-wax casting. For Fred, the ingenuity of the technique continues to inspire him. Narrator: Fred melts these odds and ends into liquid bronze. He pours the metal into the outlet, filling the space left vacant by the wax melting. The molten bronze cools down and takes shape. Narrator: Fred hacks away at the outer layers, each blow from the hammer revealing lustrous bronze underneath. When he's done, he hands it over to Sasa for filing and polishing. Narrator: Sasa learned this work from his brother. It's the only step in the process that is modernized. He uses rasps to scrape away at the leftover hardened sand. Sasa picks at every crevice, making sure not to damage the artwork. Narrator: Using a polishing machine, Sasa buffs the bronze to a perfect sheen. Narrator: The techniques Fred and Sasa use were developed as early as the 1200s.

Back then, bronze casters were noblemen in the Kingdom of Benin, which predates the modern-day
nations of Nigeria and Benin. Bronze casters could spend
months working on a single piece. But 1897 was a turning point. The chiefs of Benin resisted
British commercial involvement and staged an ambush on
a trading expedition, killing British soldiers. In retaliation, the British
pillaged the oba's palace, stealing thousands of valuable pieces, including Benin bronzes. That February, the British
captured the Kingdom of Benin, and the looted sculptures were
auctioned off across Europe. As a result, museums in Benin City have very little to
show for their history. Segun: This is what has
projected the Benin Kingdom to the outside world. Welcome to National Museum Benin. You can see them. They will have some in between
their legs, behind them. All standers are the objects,
and these are all plaques.

And he's having a fun of himself
with a cigar in his mouth, and looking at the photographer. So, all these collections, most of them went through the
war to The British Museum, and some of them are still there to date. And we wish they would send
them back to where they belong. Narrator: Over a century later, public opinions started to change, with advocates calling to
return looted artifacts back to their original homes. Narrator: Nigeria has been requesting the return of these
artworks since the 1970s. Its efforts began to
pay off in October 2021, when the University of Cambridge became the first institution to return a Benin bronze to Nigeria. Since then, the United States
has returned 30 bronzes, Germany 22, and the UK eight. But this is a drop in the bucket compared to the 5,000
bronzes stolen in 1897. Fred says bronze casters like him

avoid going to the Museum of Benin because it forces them to confront this dark time in their history. Narrator: But in the next few years, Fred will be able to see some of those stolen bronzes up close at the planned Edo Museum of West African Art. It will cost an estimated $100 million, with part of the funding coming from the state of Edo, where Benin City is located. Narrator: But with so much attention being given to the return of the historical bronzes and the tourism they may promote, Fred says today's craftsmen are being neglected. Narrator: Even though Igun Street has been recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage site since 1999, its artisans are struggling to preserve the renowned craft. Narrator: The original bronze casters weren't faced with these pressures. They were appointed into guilds by the oba, who would provide them with materials like bronze.

Benin City's craftsmen are looking for the same support today. Narrator: We reached
out to several agencies within the Nigerian and
Edo state governments, but did not receive a response. Fred's main customers are
tourists and local art dealers. He says profits are not enough
to sustain his workshop. He does most of his
sales through middlemen. Narrator: Fred recommends buyers source directly from the craftsmen until they receive financial support. Narrator: Saving the craft from extinction is so personal for Fred because he comes from a
line of bronze casters dating back to the 15th century. His family name, Ilhama, is
a title bestowed by the king. Narrator: This piece is one of
Fred's greatest inspirations. He helped his father
create this interpretation of a stolen original, which is held at the Princeton University
Art Museum in New Jersey.

Only 40 Benin Bronze Makers Are Left In Nigeria As Country Fights To Have Stolen Bronzes Returned

What you want to know about business. 

Visit our homepage for the top stories of the day: https://www.businessinsider.com 
Business Insider on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/businessinsider
Business Insider on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/insiderbusiness
Business Insider on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/businessinsider
Business Insider on Snapchat: https://www.snapchat.com/discover/Business_Insider/5319643143
Business Insider on TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@businessinsider

If you have a permissions or licensing request, please connect with our partners at PARS International who will be able to provide you with an accurate quote for the overall usage rights that you’re interested in. A representative from PARS will contact you shortly after filling out this request form: https://www.parsintl.com/publications/insider/


Only 40 Benin Bronze Makers Are Left In Nigeria As Country Fights To Have Stolen Bronzes Returned

Scripts