Happy Valentine’s Day
Happy Valentine’s Day, my friends. I love you all minus none.
Me, here, painting away on a beautiful Valentine’s Day, seven years ago.
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Dede Mabiaku
Dede Mabiaku was an undergraduate studying drama at the University of Benin in 1981 when I was a graduate student there.How did I meet Dede?Late one evening, I packed my Volkswagen car, popularly called Bintu, near the University of Benin theater during a drama rehearsal.I was the stage-design director for the Convocation play in December 1982.
Ọwọ́ as Hand and Eye
Ọwọ́ as Hand and Eye
I showed Iya Oyo the drawing of her portrait I made one day. She said, “Ọ̣wọ́ rẹ gún,” (Your hands are straight), as she admired the portrait.
Baba Oyo responded with, “Ojú rẹ̀ gún” (His eyes are straight).
I was baffled. “What is straight, my eye or my hand?” I asked them.
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?
THE PAID OFFICERS BOAST…
THE PAID OFFICERS BOAST THEY DID THE KILLING, MAIMING AND DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTIES
To those who obey orders to kill and maim:
To those whose salaries, allowances and food are from the business of death:
Let nobody convince you that you could kill another HUMAN, and remain alive and well.
Let nobody persuade you that killing and maiming people is a legitimate job.
ARRESTING MOMENT
Yesterday, my daughter gave birth to my second granddaughter.And I almost got arrested yesterday.I met this police officer at my favorite coffee shop.One of those cops who rode huge bikes. As he got down from his bike, I was parking my jeep.I guessed he came for coffee as I did.
Oluorogbo–the first scholar.
Oluorogbo–the first scholar.
In Ile Ife is a fellow to whom the invention of writing is ascribed.
His name is Oluorogbo.
(But this fellow is different from Olurorogbo, the son of Moremi).
Over the centuries, Oluorogbo’s scripts have disappeared because his books were buried during a conflict–a failed attempt to preserve the scripts and prevent them from getting into the hands of the enemies.