November 11, 2025

Chisaokwu Joboson and the Future of African Type

From civil engineering to type design, Chisaokwu Joboson’s creative journey bridges structure, storytelling, and cultural rediscovery. As the founder of Udi Foundry and Type Afrika, he’s expanding representation and making type design education more accessible and affordable for Africans. We spoke about his design beginnings, the challenges of being self-taught, and his mission to create Afrocentric typefaces that support African languages and identities.


Going from engineering to design is quite a jump. What pulled you into graphic design and, eventually, type design?

It’s funny, I never really think about it until I’m asked. While studying civil engineering, I joined a student community that needed a public relations officer. I was quite talkative, so I was nominated. Our communications had been poor, so I thought I’d try to do things differently. I wanted to put a bit of spice in how we relay information. There was an event that needed a poster, but we couldn’t afford to outsource it. I gave it a try, and people liked what I did. That was really the spark. I realized okay, there’s something here.

After graduation, I tried practicing engineering, but it wasn’t for me. By then, I had built a small client base—posters here, flyers there, a bit of logo work—and I thought, maybe I should put energy in this. I’d see where it takes me and if it doesn’t work then, well, I always have a degree. It was a gamble, but I’ve never looked back.


A silver, geometric typeface on a black background.

Mekanikal Display mimics the geometry of nuts, bolts, and industrial parts.


Do you still see that engineering mindset showing up in how you design?

I think engineering is one of the smoothest transitions into design. There’s structure and technical thinking to it. At the end of the day, both fields are about solving problems, design just adds a bit of creativity.

I was always very creative as a kid, but growing up in a typical African home, you were either going to be an engineer, a doctor, or a lawyer. If you said you wanted to be an artist, your family would look at you funny, like, “Are you going to waste my money pursuing that kind of field?”

In a way, I feel like it was all destined. Even though I studied engineering, the switch felt natural. Had design been more championed on this side of the world, I probably would have pursued it earlier.

A font specimen with grey and green text reading, "Mekanikal Display is a monospaced font merging the grit of industrial mechanics with the precision of digital aesthetics."

You’ve said you entered type design out of curiosity and necessity. Was there a moment or project that made you say, “Okay, I need to design my own fonts”?

The standard of design always felt Eurocentric—minimalism, brutalism… all rooted in Western ideals. African clients would approach me wanting something that felt African. I could design a logo and nail it, but then I’d be stuck figuring out how to fully communicate the brand through typography. Often, I ended up relying on a Western font. There was just no way around it.

I wondered if any Western typefaces truly catered to African languages. It felt like most fonts were designed A to Z, with little consideration beyond that. I realized there was a serious lack of representation. There wasn’t any real inclusion when it came to Africans. That’s when I asked myself: How difficult could it be to create a typeface that supports African languages and feels African? That was the breaking point. I decided to start designing Afrocentric typefaces, with a focus on African language support.

You spent several years in branding before focusing on type. How did that experience shape your approach to typography and visual identity? Did it change how you see storytelling through design?

Many cultures have centuries of documented visual history to draw from. A lot of typefaces are revivals or modern takes on historical forms. For African typography, there’s very little proper documentation of what it looked like before colonization. I’m faced with a very blank canvas.

Without a strong reference point, I look to what’s around me—cultural experiences, instruments—and shape those influences into something contemporary, similar to the way type design functions today.

I never want to do something that feels ordinary, that feels like just another typeface. I’m always asking myself: How can I put a twist on this. How can it be different? How can it feel like it comes from a specific place? That’s really important to me. I want people to see the typeface and immediately think: “Yes, that feels African.”


A GIF with white text on a brown background showing the variable weights of Ojuju.

Ojuju is a reverse contrast variable font inspired by African Masquerades.


What were the biggest challenges you faced as a self-taught type designer? And on the flip side, what helped you grow the most?

The type design industry can feel very gatekept. It often seems like you need to be in the West to access proper knowledge. Unlike other design fields—UI, UX, branding— which you can learn online, it’s never that easy for type design. When I first stumbled into it, there were very few resources to guide me.

It was a difficult road. I remember using Illustrator until I found a proper type design software, and I realized I was really suffering (laughs). If someone had told me earlier, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time vectorizing with a software that didn’t cater to this field. But at the time, I was just winging it—exploring, drawing letters without really knowing spacing, structure, or other technical aspects.

Things started to change when I was commissioned from Google to design Ojuju and then enrolled in Type Electives. Juan and Lynne were actually changing the landscape, and it was my first real experience with education in type design.

I also realized how expensive learning could be. If it’s difficult to take a type design course in the West, it’s even harder here—especially since there’s no assurance you’ll get something out of that career to justify spending that huge amount of money. Having accessible programs like Type Electives completely changed that. They opened up access to learning, gave me structured guidance, and helped me see exactly where I needed to grow.

Along the way, I found generous people and communities who shared resources, offered feedback, or simply engaged in conversations about type design. Slowly, my understanding of type started to come together. I’m especially grateful to Dave Crossland, Thomas Phinney, Juan and Lynne, and Libbie Bischoff, too—awesome people.


A type specimen in browns and oranges reading, "Inspired by African masquerades."

Ojuju draws inspiration from the masks worn by Dogon dancers in Mali, reflected in its aperture shaping and counterform placement.


I’d love to talk about Udi Foundry. What inspired you to start it?

Udi Foundry is my brainchild. When I first dove into type design, I told myself I needed to solve a problem—the lack of African languages in type design. I wanted to create expressive, Afrocentric, and inclusive typefaces that truly serve Africans and African languages.

Then curiosity kicked in. How do I even start? So I Googled it—that’s when I first encountered the concept of a type foundry. It felt like everyone had one, so if I wanted to get into the space, having a foundry felt like the right move.

The name Udi came naturally. Udi is an Igbo word meaning “a type of…” or “group of,” which felt perfect to represent a collection of African typefaces. It’s also the name of a place where I come from, Enugu, so it felt like a kind of divine revelation.

Udi Foundry focuses on African languages, while I release other typefaces under my own name. It’s been a lot of fun, and a lot of learning. You think entering design is just about designing, but then you realize there’s the business side. You have to think about licensing, pricing, and how to sustain the business. I was lucky to start with commissioned work—my first typeface under Udi was Ojuju. That was followed by my first independent release, Oja Display, which also went well.

Looking ahead, I see Udi as a collection filling the gap that drew me to type design in the first place. How can we better serve the continent? How can more African languages be represented? Latin is just one script—there are many minority and indigenous scripts in Africa that remain overlooked.


A GIF in browns and yellows showing the range of characters and diacritics in Oja Display.

Oja Display is a bold and expressive typeface inspired by the anatomical structure of the traditional Oja flute from Eastern Nigeria.


What excites you most about designing a new font? What kinds of questions do you ask yourself when starting a project?

Type design, for me, is a way of discovering culture. Growing up in the city, I wasn’t really in tune to my native culture. It’s not just about my own culture; it’s also about understanding what exists beyond it. Africa is incredibly diverse, yet often surprisingly connected: A tradition from my hometown might exist miles away in another part of the continent with a different twist. Type design lets me go on a journey of both self-discovery and the discovery of others.

There’s so much sameness in the industry right now. You see conversations about AI and font generators, but there’s a real need for expression in what we create. Typefaces can have soul. They don’t have to be rigid or static. I always ask myself: How can typography reflect culture? How can it tell a story? How can it have expression?


A type specimen in brown text on a yellow background showing various symbols and uppercase characters.

Oja Display contains 1042 glyphs and supports 180+ languages.


Can you share a project you’re especially proud of and why it’s meaningful to you?

Ojuju was a breakthrough moment for me, arriving at a very early point in my type design journey. It felt like I had created something special. You know how it is with artists—you finish something and wonder: Is this my best work? What’s next? I believe there’s always room to improve, but at that moment, Ojuju had come at the right time. It fulfilled a real need.

The story begins with Simon Charwey, a visionary in African design. He told me Google was looking for African designers to create fonts that felt African and supported African languages. I was still learning type design, but I said, “Yeah, why not?”

About five months later, the Google team reached out and asked if I had something I wanted to turn into a typeface. At the time, I was fascinated by African masquerades. Growing up, I’d see them during festive seasons or ceremonial occasions. Masquerades are very eccentric—big, small, scary, smiley. Some performers move in ways that almost don’t feel human. I thought, maybe I can create a typeface inspired by this energy. I also drew from 1970s African movie poster lettering, including one from 1968 for a movie called Mandabi.

The process was chaotic. Usually, people start learning type design by creating simple sans-serif fonts, but I jumped straight into a bold, variable font. It’s not just that it was heavy, it was also reverse contrast. I remember thinking, what am I even doing?

It was a beautiful experience. I had amazing support and guidance from Mirko Velimirović, my co-creator. I’m already thinking of ways to expand the project and explore new directions. It’s a lifelong project. I’m really hopeful for its future.

You’re not just a designer, you also write beautifully about design, culture, and identity. How does writing fit into your creative process?

Yeah, I do love writing. Sadly, there’s so much to do as a designer that sometimes writing takes a backseat. But I feel it’s necessary—at some point, designers should also be writers. There’s a real need for people to understand your thoughts.

I’m passionate about expressing myself through words because writing captures creativity in ways that visual systems alone cannot. It’s also essential for documentation. The African design space suffers from a lack of recorded history. Even when you look into the history of design, there’s little mention of African contributions or of how African contexts shaped creative practices.

Much has been lost due to colonization, wars, and the post-colonial era. Writing and documentation can help preserve culture and shape the future. It acts as a reference, helping people understand what type design is today and what it could become.

That’s why I write. I write because I enjoy it, and it’s therapeutic. Holding words in your head can be heavy, and writing is a way to release that stress.


Be sure to follow Chisaokwu on Instagram at @jobosonchisa and @udifoundry. Watch his recorded lecture, Type Design for African Languages, presented as part of the Type Electives’ Fall 2025 Virtual Lecture Series. Support his work by licensing Oja Display and other typefaces from Udi Foundry, or download Ojuju on Google Fonts. For a deeper look into his creative process, read his articles on Medium. Currently, he’s making type design education more accessible and affordable for Africans through Type Afrika.


Interview conducted on Nov 7, 2025. Edited by Kate Ragosta.