A Third Space began as a quiet rebellion against Lagos’ overstimulating creative environment, a city teeming with art and culture, yet often too loud for real connection. Founded in early 2024 by writer and curator Nelson C.J, the space was built to offer something rare: somewhere that invites presence, curiosity, and meaningful exchange.
Nelson, whose writing has appeared in The New York Times, TIME Magazine, Teen Vogue, among others, has long been drawn to the intersections of art, culture, and human experience. With A Third Space, he channels that curiosity into something tangible: a living, breathing community where creativity and dialogue coexist freely. It’s also defined by its atmosphere: warm, circular, and democratic.
What started as an experiment has since evolved into a thriving collective. A Third Space now hosts gatherings, film clubs, craft talks, readings, and exhibitions, nurturing both emerging and established voices. Its projects, like The Long Story Project, honour oral storytelling traditions, while landmark events such as Route 3—a two-day festival that turned Lagos into a reflective creative oasis—showcase its ability to merge art, rest, and community in one seamless experience.
In our conversation, Nelson spoke about the origins of A Third Space, the meaning behind its name, and the evolving notion of community in Lagos. We explored how collaboration, accessibility, and curiosity shape the space’s programming, what it means to belong in a city built on exclusivity, and why slowing down—simply sitting, listening, and being—is a radical act of creativity in itself.
So, my first question: I would like to get a quick background on A Third Space; the story behind it, how it started, and what inspired its creation.
Absolutely. I think A Third Space has a really interesting story because it was born out of looking around and not seeing the kind of space that reflected the things I was thinking about and cared deeply about.
The idea really began at the start of 2024. At the time, I was thinking seriously about what “community” looks like, or what it could mean, in Lagos. Everything I’d been seeing before then was mostly either loud events, parties, or raves, which I think are fantastic and integral to the pulse of the city. On the other hand, there are also very academically focused art events that aren’t always accessible, either in language or in their programming, to a wider audience. They are often tailored to people who already work in academic or high-art spaces. As someone who doesn’t really enjoy going to parties, I’ve always been drawn to conversations that are timely, accessible, and interesting. I just wasn’t seeing many spaces that engaged with everyday cultural or art-focused conversations in a way that felt urgent, deeply human, experimental, or even just curious. A lot of what I saw felt repetitive; the same talking points, the same ideas, the same topics we kept circling back to.
So, A Third Space was born from this desire to create something different: a space designed around art and conversations that are culturally timely, personal, and deeply engaging, but also approachable to everyday people. I was also thinking about what it would feel like to have a space where I didn’t have to “perform” to belong, a place where you could just be and still enjoy yourself. That was the foundation.
From there, the idea started to take shape: a space that’s easygoing, where the only thing you need to be is yourself. But also, a space that rethinks how and why people gather. Everything we do at A Third Space is driven by the need to question what already exists and explore how those formats can evolve. That’s why, when we do exhibitions, we think about how exhibitions can perform. Instead of a traditional setup, we might do something like Come and Collect, which we held for our one-year anniversary. At this art fair, we invited artists to create works priced under ₦100,000, making it accessible to early collectors.
So really, it’s about looking at what already exists and reimagining how it could function, always using art as our focal point. Art, culture, and dialogue sit at the core of everything we do, and every event blends those three elements in some way.
That’s essentially how A Third Space was born: from a need to rethink how culture and art spaces exist in Lagos, and to create something that feels meaningful, accessible, and alive.
Thank you for sharing. I’ve been thinking about third spaces a lot, especially since we don’t have many here in Nigeria or in Lagos, just places you can walk into and be. I wanted to ask about the name A Third Space. Why did you choose that name specifically?
So I’d actually been reading about the idea of “third spaces.” I think I came across a Guardian article, and I’d also seen a few videos on TikTok around 2023. But the funny thing is, when we thought of the name, the concept of “a third space” was still quite a fringe conversation. It wasn’t as popular as it’s become now, which I think is great.
The name made sense because we wanted to represent the idea of the in-between, that liminal space between everything else happening around us. It ties directly into what we’re doing, because we see A Third Space as a place that incubates things that don’t fit neatly into traditional art spaces, things that might not “perform” well in those conventional contexts.
And in many ways, in-between spaces — whether in a home or anywhere else — are often thought of as places to relax. You can be there and do nothing, and that’s perfectly fine. Or you can create, think, or have conversations. Because they’re largely undefined, they often become the best places to start something from scratch or to explore radical and interesting ideas. That’s really the meaning behind the name.
I realise that for many Nigerians, our main spaces for socialisation are religious centres, then school, and then work. I think A Third Space is important right now as that middle ground where you can do something, or do nothing at all. You’ve been saying a lot of “we” while talking, so I wanted to touch on that. At its core, A third Space feels like a community. What does community mean to you? Who are the people that make up the A Third Space community, and how do you nurture that sense of collectiveness?
Yeah, that’s a great point, and I completely agree. When I say “we,” I usually mean the A Third Space team, but I also think of our community in a broader, non-traditional sense. It’s not a single cluster, but a fluid ecosystem. We aim to operate with some institutional thinking, creating pockets of space that serve a range of interests, all through art, culture, and dialogue.
Our community includes thinkers, writers, artists, and filmmakers, mostly young people, who we really value. Programming naturally reaches different pockets: design events attract designers, film screenings draw film lovers, and our Warm Light Series brings in writers, readers, and those interested in cultural commentary. That’s also why we launched A3S’ Film Club, to serve that part of our community specifically.
We resist pigeonholing ourselves. Instead, we create programming that overlaps interests; a design lover might attend a reading, a film fan might come for a screening with a vinyl session. We’re driven by curiosity and want people to explore the parts of themselves that connect to different creative expressions.
Our programming reflects both community response and our own thinking about culture: what feels urgent, relevant, or worth discussing. We design experiences for different clusters while encouraging crossover, which keeps the space alive and evolving.
Yes, definitely. That’s one of my favourite parts of the space. As someone with multiple interests who’s often been told to “niche down”, I really enjoy that you’ve created a space for everyone. Sometimes you don’t even know what you’re interested in until you walk in, listen, and think, “Oh, this is actually interesting. Maybe archiving is something I want to explore.” So, I appreciate that.
I love that you see it that way because discovery is such a huge part of what we try to do at A Third Space. I think curiosity really leads so much of what we do. We want people to come in and feel free to explore new parts of themselves. That’s also why, if you look at our programming, a lot of it is built around curiosity.
For instance, we might invite an actor—someone whose work is primarily in performance—to write a short story and read it aloud. It’s something they might never have done before, but once they try it, they’re often really open to the experience. It allows them to explore a part of their creativity they hadn’t expressed yet.
At the core of it, we’re also rethinking how art itself is presented. We don’t believe that a painter should only paint, or that the only way to experience painting is through a canvas. The same goes for filmmakers or musicians. There are so many ways to express and deliver art, and we’re very interested in opening those possibilities.
Thank you so much. I wanted to touch on collaboration as a key part of A Third Space, how you're able to bring people together. Have you found that difficult in any way? Especially approaching artists, since the industry can sometimes be unkind. How have you been able to create a safe space for artists to showcase their work and collaborate the way they want to?
I agree. You’re right. And it makes me so happy, people genuinely enjoy being asked to try something new. I think we often underestimate that. In Lagos’ art scene, we like to say people are “diverse,” but many artists diversify out of sheer will, not because the spaces around them encourage it.
When I first got into the literary scene, I grew up seeing writers who were also photographers or painters. You’d open a publication and find the artwork done by one of the writers in the same issue. So it was surprising to later see how rarely people get the space to show those other parts of themselves.
That’s what we try to offer at A Third Space: room to experiment. Our first event was a vinyl gathering where people just came to listen together. Then we worked with Yagazie, who was moving from photojournalism into artmaking, and helped incubate that shift. We also collaborated with Nicole Asinugo on a video essay based on her writing about memory and home.
‘Amen Lodge’, a Photo-Essay written and directed by Nicole Asinugo for A Third Space.
For us, collaboration means inviting artists to explore something new while making sure they feel valued, supported, and part of the process. We want them to enjoy the challenge. Half the time, people leave saying, “I didn’t know I’d enjoy that!” and then they want to do more.
There are few spaces here that allow that kind of freedom, where artists can be beginners again. So when we create those opportunities, people embrace them. Thankfully, collaboration has been beautiful. Artists trust us to handle their work with care, and that trust means everything.
Thank you so much for sharing and for creating that space. You’ve talked about your other programs: the film club, the Thursday gatherings, the Long Story Project. I also wanted to touch on programming specifically, since that seems to be such a core part of A Third Space. How do you decide which areas to explore, and what creative journeys to highlight?
Everything we do is designed to help people slow down: to sit, listen, and be present for a moment. Our conversations feel circular, like talking with a friend rather than being lectured by someone who “knows better.” We believe in exchange, not hierarchy. The same goes for our readings; there’s something grounding about simply being read to, putting your phone away, and listening. That sense of presence is what we try to recreate across our programming.
Our work is built around three pillars: art, culture, and dialogue. We think deeply about who’s in our community, what they care about, and how we can meet those interests in fresh, sometimes playful ways. We can do anything we want, as long as it’s thoughtful.
Perspective is central. Everything we do has to say something; if it feels familiar, it still needs to carry our lens. That’s how many of our collaborations begin, with people whose viewpoints on culture feel urgent and worth sharing.
Our programming is guided by community interest, curiosity, and cultural urgency, always asking how things can exist differently, how we can offer new ways of seeing, and how to make space for authenticity amid the noise.
Thank you so much for sharing that. There are a couple of things I’d like to touch on from your answer. The first is inclusivity. Having been to many Lagos events and clubs, I’ve noticed that the city has a reputation for exclusivity; certain spaces are only for certain groups of people. In a city that often prides itself on being exclusive, what does belonging look like at A Third Space?
Yeah, that’s a great question. A big part of our work is making art and culture accessible without breaking the bank. We believe you shouldn’t have to think twice about paying to be in a space rich with conversation, creativity, and original thinking. Accessibility is non-negotiable; we’re always balancing affordability with sustainability.
Most of our events are ticketed below ₦5,000, sometimes exactly ₦5,000. Larger events may have tiered pricing to ensure everyone can attend. Beyond cost, we focus on creating communal spaces where hierarchies of power or status don’t exist. Seating is circular, rooms are small, and there are no VIP sections; everyone eats, drinks, and connects together.
Of course, organising in Nigeria has challenges, and occasionally prices need to reflect that. But we also do free collaborations, like our work with Culture Custodian, so people can experience culture without any barriers.
We imagine spaces where emerging artists feel at home, and established creatives feel comfortable without distance or pretence. For us, accessibility is emotional as well as financial, everything we do, from programming to design, is rooted in openness and belonging.
Thank you. I remember seeing a post you did with Joke Silva, and it struck me how you brought together different generations, different people, at different stages of their craft to talk, share ideas, and connect. That’s really powerful.
And just to close, since it’s been over a year now since you started A Third Space, are there any moments that have made you stop and think, this is why I’m doing this? What moments remind you of what A Third Space really stands for?
That’s a great question. One moment that stands out was right after Joke Silva’s event. It was a small venue, packed mostly with young people, and I think she was the oldest person in the room. What struck me was how effortlessly she connected with the crowd, despite the generational gap. I had worried there might be tension, but instead it was a rich, open exchange, reminding me how rare it is to have spaces where different generations can truly converse without assumptions getting in the way.
That experience affirmed for me that our work is necessary. Other moments, like people attending events, messaging about wishing they could come, or posting online about the programming, also mean a lot. But the most rewarding thing is seeing people linger after events, continuing conversations and connecting with each other. At Route 3, some stayed until nearly midnight because there was still so much to see and talk about. We love that A Third Space has become a place people want to stay in, not just attend.
Ultimately, we hope to create a permanent space where everyone feels welcome, with corners that activate curiosity and thought, a space for exploring freely, democratising creativity, and expanding access to alternative spaces.
I did say that was my last question, but I lied. I have one more. As you move into a new chapter, doing more and newer work, what excites you most about A Third Space and about the creative community in Lagos and Nigeria?
I love that we’re moving into more interesting partnerships and collaborations, bringing our core ideas into new spaces. For example, we activated the Speaker’s Corner at this year’s Art X, which also marks their 10th anniversary, huge!
Even more exciting is how art spaces are opening up to alternative forms of art delivery. We’re asking: how can we do this through sound, text, performance, movement, or physical activation, rather than sticking to tradition?
I’m genuinely optimistic about the art scene right now. So many people are doing thoughtful, imaginative work, imagining alternative existences. I’m hopeful for more spaces that are bold, brave, and intentional in supporting artists. It’s already happening, and I can’t wait to see more.
Thank you so much. I’m really excited too, and I can’t wait to be part of those spaces and experiences.
Member discussion