On my way to the Murtala Muhammed Airport.
Checking out, US bound.
We will find out what happens in Nigeria after elections this Saturday.
Nor be me dabaru 9ja.
Excavate.
Today, I delivered the first two classes via my laptop to my students.
All my students, colleagues, friends and family also live inside my tiny laptop, where we shake hands, hug, and do just about anything we want. I didn’t know there was so much space inside my tiny laptop.
Welcome to the new world.
It’s not going to look like your father’s world.
So, this lady came to the Àkòdì Òrìṣà, and asked the women artists working there, “What are you people doing here? What is this place?”
The curator said, “Madam, this is the Àkòdì Òrìṣà, and as you can see, we are working.”
Eye witness account, we looked at this work in class today.It is part of much larger door panel carved by a Yoruba sculptor called Dada Arowoogun.He is one of those we refer to as a “traditional” African artist.
When I arrived the United States in 1992 to start a doctorate at UW, Madison, I had only $98 in my pocket.
My professor, Henry Drewal, quickly came to my assistance. He immediately paid my school fees for the first semester, and gave me $1,000 in cash to start me off. Then he provided me with free accommodation in the posh part of town for the first year of my studies, while I found my feet.
Africans living in voluntary and compelled exile:
Do we deserve the “comfort” of exile, if we are only concerned about the comfort of our immediate families?
We all realize that a country like Nigeria has become a lion’s den, and many of the citizens feel trapped inside it.
We realize that many of us escaped with nothing in our pockets. I left with only $98 in my pocket in 1992.