Why I love Nigeria? Why I love Africa?
Tell me, where else in the whole wide world can you make a khaki cocktail with big stout and emu funfun?
I love Nigeria I nor go lie.
Happy New Yam, friends.
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THE BUILDER AND THE PAINTER
I’m building an art gallery in Austin TX.
The gallery is now nearing completion—hopefully, it will be ready in January 2021.
It’s only a modest gallery, just to satisfy the need for an African art gallery in Texas, such a great state, yet without such a gallery devoted to the art of Africa.
The architect is Beau Frail, from Florida.
The Engineer is R.D. Hammond, from Texas.
Williams Shakespeare, “King Charles III,” Act 1 Scene 1.
KING CHARLES:
The light is awful! Ha! who comes here? Are my eyes seeing double? What is this strange object in our bedroom? Camilla, do you see what I see? Are you for real? Speak, you apparition, trying to scare a new monarch!
EGUNGUN:
Ayam Egungun, the Ancestral Spirit of those your ancestors named Southwest Nigerians.
KING CHARLES:
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil?
Ọ̀rẹ́: Friendship
Ọ̀rẹ́: Friendship
“He is my ọ̀rẹ́ (friend),” I told Iya Oyo, after Kola left.
Iya Oyo did not look too pleased.
She didn’t ask me for any explanation about Kola, but the way she eyeballed me after he left compelled me to offer some information about Kola.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1982 (Part Thirty-Two)
Steve quickly realized that it was a bad idea to take off his shirt to enjoy the breeze. He hurriedly wore it back. He had complained about the heat, which was one of the reasons we left the house.
Steve, finally, decided to take us to a place not too far from the house to show off the body of water he said he discovered. He had been raving about it, but we were unable to go and see it, distracted by the various things happening in such rapid succession.
Prominent on the list of my to-do-things was a visit to River Steve.
Does anyone know where to get aásà?
Does anyone know where to get aásà? My grandma, her soul is resting in peace, She…
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Nine)
Madam Ngu finally cornered me in the buka.
If I had any inkling she was coming to that buka that fateful day, I would rather have starved than be found dead there. She had been looking for me for weeks. And I had been evading her. I was trying to break free of her influence and she was trying her very best to ensure that she stamped herself into my art, my being, my style of creating, and my idioms of expression. She had studied at the Royal College in London and was trying to make me a master draughtsman who painted in the European fashion. And I was a radical looking for a way to break out of the western mold of painting.
