**1. Introduction**

Within many creative ventures and spaces, art has been utilised as a vent for the expression of repressed feelings and opinions as well as for foregrounding the realities of marginalised communities who attempt to break the boundaries which dominant groups or ideologies have constructed against them [1]. These vents are mainly invigorated through protest art forms. Protest art of course has diverse manifestations, ranging from the visual, physical, musical or theatrical. Oftentimes too, beyond the intention or manipulation of the art creator, protest art may be ideologically motivated or political in view of their context of creation or execution. Thus, interpretations of the dimensions and implications of protest arts may emanate from the consumers or viewers or coalesce the intentions of the creator and those of the consumers. What is essential is that protest art provokes reactions and seek to draw attention to issues within the society. This aligns with the claim by renowned novelist and Nobel Laureate Toni Morrison that "All good art is political! And the ones that try hard not to be political are political by saying, 'We love the status quo'" ([2]: 2). Regardless of the various possibilities of mediations in the interpretation of protest art however, the essence of their creations is for the contestation and protestation of social injustices. Consequently,

in this article, I extend the manifestations of visual protest art to the digital space and contextualise digital visual representations as protest art within the context of queer visibility and the contestation of heteronormativity. Specifically, I interrogate queer positive images on Instagram as instantiated by Nigerian queer users, and this is geared towards examining the place of semiotic modes – images and text – in the affirmation of queer-positivity and in contesting the repression represented by heterosexuality.

Several studies have explored the place of protest art in queer activism. For instance, Tessa [3] identified that 'queer visual artists and activists in South Africa are using their practice to counter and dismantle institutional racism, sexism and homophobia'. Chin [4] examined 'the role of the arts in the relationship between urban governmental institutions and queer and transgender people of color (QTPOC) community organizations'. Chin's study concluded that 'the arts serve as the linchpin between QTPOC efforts to counter the intertwined mechanisms of racism, sexism, transphobia and homophobia, and municipal imperatives to promote economic growth and address the social exclusion of marginalized populations' (ibid.: iv). Burk [5] engaged the diversity of LGBTQ art in the United States of America and submitted that 'LGBTQ artists maintain a position of marginality in order to critique dominant social norms, and use art as a means to document marginalized communities and promote subversive messages'. Rosendahl [6] also considered the role of musical discourse in queer agency. More specifically, the study focused on the role of musical discourse at the annual Toronto pride festival in the negotiation of social power and identity within the queer community, and observed that '[g]endered and racialized groups used musical discourse to challenge power structures' (xi). In these studies, there is an identification of the significance of protest art in queer advocacy particularly in combating the structures of heteronormativity which forcefully push queer existence on to the margins of societal visibility.

In Nigeria, studies on queer visibility are only now just becoming mainstream and gaining traction, with scholarly interventions spanning literary texts and movies, as well as others which come from the perspectives of sociology, psychology and education [7–9]. In the current study, I interrogate how Nigerian queer users use images as forms of protest art on their handles. Central to my interrogations is the question: How is visual activism negotiated as a strategy of resistance by Nigerian queer users of Instagram? A key assumption in this study is that queer-positive images by Nigerian queer Instagram users represent attempts to challenge societallylegitimised and dominant narratives around heteronormativity. In addition, their visual appeal help in asserting queer visibility within the liberating affordance of the digital space. Consequently, one can identity these 'deviant' users as recognising the influence of digital visual representations and perceive these representations as integral to contesting the marginalisation occasioned by gender ideology, sexism and homophobia. I further assert that these activist strains which currently manifest within the digital space are ultimately expected to trickle down to the physical space as the Nigerian queer community invigorates its advocacy for societal acceptance and legal acknowledgement.
