20Something: Azeez & Makafui

“We exist at this intersection of so many different cultures,”

We’re seated in a triangle. I’m perched on a stool, legs crossed with my notebook in my lap and my computer beside me. Azeez has his legs stretched out nonchalantly in front of him, balancing himself against a wall. He fiddles with a sewing pin, occasionally placing it between his teeth while he ponders my questions. Makafui is getting a haircut. He’s covered in a Lakers cape, tufts of hair scattering his shoulders and the floor around him as he talks.

We’re holding this interview at Fourtunehouse, the art center on the Low End that Makafui opened earlier this year. Artwork covers the walls around us, books rest on wooden floating shelves, and a rack of clothes sits by the front door. Everyone milling around the space has a creative energy about them.

Azeez owns a clothing brand called IGO that presents a “tactical-dystopian aesthetic.” They launched earlier this year and showed at Paris Fashion Week shortly after. IGO’s mission is to merge the gap between the luxury fashion space and the gaming community. 

Together, Azeez and Makafui are working on a collaboration between their respective brands, culminating in an event to be held at Fourtunehouse on November 19th. Amongst other activities the event will feature competitive gaming, something that the two founders hold a mutual love for.  

The two clearly share not only a creative vision, but values and interests as well. We’re less than 3 minutes into the interview and they’re already in an impassioned discussion about the nexus of creativity, gaming, and Pokémon. “Fashion was one form of self-expression to me, but you couldn’t tell me shit when I had Charizard!” Azeez laughs.

“Yeah,” Makafui adds, “You’re solving puzzles and shit to find the secret, hidden character at the end of the game.” They reach the conclusion that childhood hours spent gaming and role-playing in fantasy worlds became a source of inspiration for their brands that they both tap into regularly.

I ask them to explain the impetus behind their collaboration. With two brands rooted so deeply in creativity, I have no doubt that there’s some thought-provoking explanation for the genesis of their partnership.

The crux of their collaboration is simple: it’s the concept of “play”.

“As Fourtunehouse has explored different areas of curation, we’ve recently found the emphasis on creating a space for play,” Makafui explains. They both feel a strong responsibility to foster community, and with this collaboration, they’re building a space for adults to come and reconnect with the joys of childhood.  

Fourtunehouse recently had a coloring exhibition, he tells me. “We had a bunch of grown-ass folks coloring on the walls and shit… There’s a social component as well. It creates opportunities for people to have conversations, to meet each other.” What I wouldn’t give to release the stress of my big-girl job by coloring all over a wall. These guys are onto something.

“The concept of play is so important,” Azeez chimes in. “With my brand, IGO, that sense of play is ideological. It’s internal.” He poses a question: “Why do I have to grow up?” He’s asking himself more than anyone else. “I know there’s been times in my life where I was doing something and I felt so far removed from, like, the things that made me happy when I was a kid. And it made me sad…. So creating a space… where my inner child can exist, it’s just everything to me.”

Where IGO’s sense of play is ultimately up to the wearer to interpret, Fourtunehouse offers a space for play to manifest tangibly. “Fourtunehouse gives us that canvas, that physical space for us to play, to have fun, to express,” Azeez says, looking at Makafui. Makafui nods, another lock of hair floating to the ground. Fourtunehouse is where they will build their community together.

It wouldn’t be a 20Something installment if I didn’t pry at some aspect of navigating this decade of our lives, so I ask how they’ve each found community in their 20s. 

Both men hold a deep connection to the community they grew up with on the South Side of Chicago. As they describe their experiences, it becomes apparent that growing up in this neighborhood is something they’re immensely proud of, and lends itself to a shared identity that they both cherish.  

As the trimmer passes his ear, Makafui seems engrossed in a memory. “It’s the whole idea of, like, ‘if you know you know,’” he explains. He describes the sense of familiarity that he harbors, growing up and now living on the Low End, watching new generations move through the same routines he did when he was young.

I turn to Azeez, inviting a response. He rolls his sewing pin back and forth between his fingers. “The idea of community here in Chicago, it’s had a strong impact on my creativity… Growing up on the South Side, I felt like there was always unlimited potential, right, like I knew so many people who were extremely talented but we never had the platform to create.” He tells me he feels motivated to unearth the abundance of creativity that exists on the South Side for the rest of the world to see. 

There’s a misconception that kids on the South Side grow up with fewer resources, and that when they “make it,” it’s in spite of their geographical upbringing. I’m quickly learning that this couldn’t be more wrong - they make it because of. “We got lots!” Azeez says excitedly. “I don’t know who is surprised that Black men are achieving great things on the South Side of Chicago.”

I turn to look at Makafui, who nods in agreement (as well as he can with the trimmer buzzing across his forehead). “It’s one thing to have 12,000 followers on Instagram [as Fourtunehouse does], but it’s another thing to know the people who live in my community, you know, the artists, the creatives… It’s energizing to see what we’ve built…. Where else would we do it [but on the South Side]?” The love they both hold for this community is palpable.

 Beyond the coterie they've grown up with here, both men have found community as children of immigrants, a theme that has become an integral thread in their work together. But when I ask how that part of their identity has shaped them, their answers are different.

“I grew up with a lot of independence,” Azeez says. A first generation Nigerian immigrant, he spent most of his childhood an ocean and change away from his parents. He had more freedom than most at his age, but still found a way to ground himself in traditional African ideals. He adopted a “try everything” mindset, knowing he would only face the brunt of his actions over the phone. The separation from his parents gave him a unique sense of discipline and morals - he had the freedom to explore whatever avenues he chose, but ultimately had to decide for himself where the distinction between right and wrong lay. 

Makafui’s story is one of duality. His mother moved here from Ghana, the first of her family to do so. His father, born and raised in Chicago, is a descendent of slavery, with family ties to the Antebellum South. Makafui sometimes feels torn between the two cultures. It’s impacted his view of self, he says. As a child, he identified strongly with his father’s southern heritage, but felt equally as comfortable returning from school to eat fufu and jollof with his mother’s family. “Sometimes I felt like I didn’t know which side to lean towards, you know?”

Something else he tells me strikes a chord: he went by Mak - not Makafui - for most of his adolescent life, afraid that his given name would be too difficult for his peers to pronounce. It was only recently that he began using his given name again. “My name is three syllables. My shit is as easy to pronounce as ‘Elizabeth.’”

Or Eleanor. And yet, I’ve never introduced myself as “Ellie” purely out of convenience for others. When I stop to think about it, I realize I’ve had the privilege of assuming that people would know how to pronounce my given name. Before we started recording, I asked him if he preferred his nickname or his full name. “Makafui,” he replied, without hesitation. But then he backtracked, telling me he would respond to either, that it didn’t really matter. “It matters,” I told him, “it’s your name.” 

While their lived experiences differ, their shared identity as children of immigrants is something they’ve woven into their collaboration. They settled on the phrase “Child of an Immigrant” as a defining theme for their event. It’s a line that speaks to a larger community, one that reaches beyond the blocks they grew up on or the nationalities they’re descended from. 

Event attendees will have the chance to screen print a t-shirt adorned with the phrase “Child of an Immigrant.” Azeez and Makafui want to highlight the unity and power that lies beneath that expression. “We exist at this intersection of so many different cultures,” Makafui says of living in Chicago.

“[The phrase, “Child of an Immigrant”] really speaks to so many cultural experiences,” Azeez adds. Their decision to screen print these shirts at the event, in person, is a metaphor; it’s another way of fostering community and collaboration between everyone involved. They want attendees to be able to embrace their inner child. To laugh. To have fun. To play.  

I tell them about my own efforts to heal and reconnect with my inner child over the past year. It feels expected that as adults, we’ll grow out of our childhood hobbies. I appreciate that Azeez and Makafui are creating a physical space for people to reconnect with the things that brought them joy when they were younger. It feels reassuring, comforting almost, to know that such a place exists.  

Someone brings up Pokémon again. (It’s me, I’m someone. When you grow up with only brothers, Pokémon comes with the territory). And again, I get to witness the elation they share. For the next few minutes they’re locked in a spirited discussion, and I find it impossible to hold back my smile. As I watch two young men wrapped up in a mutual delight for remnants from their childhood, I wonder why we often feel a desperation to reach adulthood and leave our adolescent joys behind. 

We’re peering into the past now, so I ask about the ambitions they held as children. I’m curious if they saw themselves following creative pursuits from an early age, or if their current roles would take their younger selves by surprise.

“I wanted to be an astronaut,” Azeez laughs. Makafui wanted to be a paleontologist. Running a fashion brand and an art center are a far cry from those careers. 

“I don’t think I could have imagined having an art center when I was a kid,” Makafui admits. And yet, he acknowledges that his creative, entrepreneurial spirit was passed down through his mom, who designs clothing and owns a store next to Fourtunehouse. “It makes sense that we’re next to each other now. We’re kind of passing the torch.”

For his counterpart, a career in fashion design was something born out of sheer pluck and a willingness to take risks. “Audacity is what guides me through life,” Azeez says. “I don’t care if I have any traditional training or anything. If I have a vision for it, I trust myself… and I execute it.” 

I ask if he’s felt any uncertainty along the way. “I feel challenges more than uncertainty,” he explains. “I’m unwavering, I’m very confident about what we’re building… I’ve never been in a position in my life where I’ve done the work and it didn’t work out.” If only we could all be this self-assured.

“So where do you see this collaboration going?” I ask.

There’s a pause. They look at each other, and seem to reach a conclusion without uttering a word. Azeez speaks first: “I would love if, out of these game nights… we could build a gaming team. If a bunch of kids from 44th, 47th, King Drive, could come here, get fly, play video games, and have, like, a gaming crew.”

“I see us… creating a space to express ourselves,” Makafui chimes in. “Creating the modules for inspiration… Creating programs and initiatives that directly impact people. Creating the opportunities not only for people to participate, but for people to lead. So, you know, as we both build communities that are oriented around tech, that are oriented around fashion, I think there’s a lot of opportunities for us to create and give back.”

So it seems, when it comes to the future of the collaboration between IGO and Fourtunehouse, there isn’t a concrete answer. Both brands have individual visions and destinations, and whether their trajectories will cross again remains unknown.

Certainty lies in their mutual focus on the present. “Enjoy the moment in front of you and play,” Azeez says. 

“Yeah, we’re operating in reality,” Makafui adds. And with that, it feels there has been enough said.

The collaboration between Fourtunehouse and IGO will take place at Fourtunehouse Art Center on November 19th. I urge you all to go, to game, to design, and to play.