When conversations about tourism in Nigeria arise, the focus often gravitates toward infrastructure, funding, marketing campaigns, security, and visitor numbers.
These are important conversations, but at the Naija7Wonders Zoom Conference 3.0, educator and tourism advocate Justina Ovatt challenged stakeholders to look beyond the visible aspects of festivals and confront a question that could determine the future of Nigeria’s cultural tourism sector.
How do we ensure Nigerian festivals remain relevant, authentic, and economically viable for the next 50 years?
Speaking during the conference themed “Festivals & Tourism in Nigeria: A New Pathway,” Ovatt offered a perspective that stood apart from the traditional discussions on tourism development. Rather than focusing solely on physical infrastructure or promotional strategies, she argued that the long-term sustainability of festivals depends on something less visible but equally critical: knowledge transfer.
Her central message was simple yet profound: “Festivals survive when knowledge survives.”
For a country blessed with hundreds of cultural celebrations and some of Africa’s most vibrant heritage traditions, Ovatt’s presentation highlighted an often-overlooked reality. Festivals may attract crowds today, but without deliberate efforts to document traditions, educate participants, mentor younger generations, and preserve cultural knowledge, many of these events risk losing the very essence that makes them valuable.
Ovatt noted that many discussions around tourism development focus on building roads, improving security, increasing funding, or attracting sponsors. While these factors are important, she argued that they do little to guarantee continuity when the custodians of cultural knowledge are no longer present.
“Nigeria has a continuity problem,” she observed, pointing to a recurring challenge across sectors. Festivals may continue to exist, but without structured systems for passing knowledge from one generation to the next, authenticity gradually erodes.
Her concern resonates across many cultural events where younger participants enthusiastically embrace the spectacle but often have limited understanding of the traditions, symbolism, and historical significance behind what they are celebrating.
For Ovatt, sustainability is not merely about keeping a festival on the calendar. It is about preserving the meaning behind the celebration.
She illustrated this concern through examples from some of Nigeria’s most celebrated festivals.
The globally recognized Calabar Carnival, often described as Africa’s biggest street party, demonstrates how festivals can generate substantial economic activity while creating opportunities for skills development. According to Ovatt, the carnival’s influence extends beyond tourism receipts and hospitality spending.
She highlighted opportunities such as event management training, volunteer development programmes, costume design workshops, cultural performance education, and entrepreneurship initiatives that can help communities build lasting capacity around the festival ecosystem.
The lesson, she suggested, is that festivals should not only entertain visitors; they should also serve as platforms for learning and professional development.
A similar case can be found in the Ojude Oba Festival in Ogun State, which has evolved into one of Nigeria’s most visible cultural celebrations. The festival’s success, she noted, is rooted in strong community identity and youth participation.
Yet even successful festivals require deliberate efforts to document traditions and educate participants. Heritage education, tourism skills training, and cultural documentation are essential if future generations are to understand and preserve the festival’s deeper significance.
Ovatt also pointed to the internationally recognized Osun-Osogbo Festival, a UNESCO-listed cultural heritage event that attracts visitors from across the world.
While the festival enjoys global recognition, she argued that many visitors still struggle to understand the symbolism embedded within its rituals and ceremonies.
“When people see photographs from Osun-Osogbo, they ask questions,” she explained. “What is she carrying? Why is she carrying it? What does it represent?”
These questions reveal an important gap. Visitors are often fascinated by cultural expressions but lack access to the knowledge needed to interpret them meaningfully.
For Ovatt, this is where cultural education programmes, heritage interpretation training, digital archives, and youth-focused preservation initiatives become indispensable.
Without such systems, festivals risk becoming visually impressive spectacles detached from their cultural roots.
The consequences, she warned, are significant.
A failure to prioritize knowledge transfer can lead to the gradual loss of traditions, weak succession planning, declining authenticity, and diminished visitor experiences. Over time, this can weaken the economic value of festivals and reduce their appeal to both local and international audiences.
Conversely, communities that invest in learning and documentation stand to gain much more than cultural preservation.
They can create stronger visitor experiences, empower local residents, develop skilled tourism professionals, and establish sustainable economic opportunities around their heritage assets.
At the heart of Ovatt’s presentation was a practical framework she described as a Festival Learning Ecosystem.
Drawing on her background in education and curriculum development, she proposed a model that integrates learning into every stage of festival planning and execution.
The framework emphasizes cultural knowledge sharing, youth engagement, community ownership, professional training, documentation, heritage valuation, indigenous knowledge archiving, and sustainability-focused education.
Rather than viewing festivals solely as entertainment events, Ovatt envisions them as living classrooms where visitors, residents, organizers, and industry professionals can learn from one another.
Such an approach, she argued, would transform festivals into year-round assets rather than seasonal spectacles.
The implications extend beyond culture.
Knowledge-driven festivals can create new jobs, support tourism-related businesses, improve visitor satisfaction, strengthen destinations, and generate additional revenue streams for local communities.
Perhaps most importantly, they can ensure that the stories, customs, and traditions that define Nigeria’s cultural identity are not lost in the pursuit of modernization.
As tourism destinations around the world increasingly compete on authenticity and meaningful visitor experiences, Ovatt’s message offers a timely reminder that preserving culture requires more than celebration.
It requires intentional learning.
Her presentation reframed the conversation about festivals and tourism in Nigeria by shifting attention from infrastructure alone to the people, knowledge systems, and cultural memory that sustain heritage over generations.
In a conference filled with discussions about new pathways for tourism development, Ovatt’s contribution stood out for its focus on the future.
The success of Nigeria’s festivals, she suggested, will ultimately be measured by neither attendance figures nor social media impressions. It will be determined by whether the next generation understands why these festivals exist, what they represent, and how to preserve them.
As Nigeria continues to position its festivals as powerful drivers of tourism and economic development, her message remains clear: celebration may attract visitors, but knowledge is what ensures cultural heritage endures.
By: Sam Opoku