My 62nd Anniversary

ByMoyo Okediji

For my 62nd anniversary, the wonderful artist Afolabi Damilare made this portrait for me.

It’s amazing how time flies.

I still remember when I was a child, and I used to run around naked in the rain, with my dondolo dangling for everybody to enjoy, on the streets of Ile Ife.

This was only yesterday, really.

And now the calendar says I’m 62!

At best I’m 6 years and 2 months old.

A loud round of applause for Afolabi Damilare for rendering this image of me.

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PARABLE OF THE BOASTFUL BIRD

PARABLE OF THE BOASTFUL BIRD

ByMoyo Okediji

PARABLE OF THE BOASTFUL BIRD One upon a time, a colorful bird known as Orofo was sad because she did not have even a single child. All the other birds, including Ega, Alapandede, and Eyele had lots of children. Orofo was worried.Sometimes she would lay many eggs, and none of them would hatch. At other times, as she pushed the eggs out of her womb, they would fall from her nest and break.

PARABLE OF IJAPA and CHILD

PARABLE OF IJAPA and CHILD

ByMoyo Okediji

PARABLE OF IJAPA and CHILD

There is an old Yoruba proverb that says “The child insisting that his mother must not sleep will also not get any sleep.” (Ọmọ tó ní ìyá òun ò ní í sùn kò ní fojú ba oorun).

Women who nurse babies know the challenge of getting enough sleep while a baby is still unable to understand the difference between night and day. The baby keeps waking up to feed, cry, poo and pee.

The mother must attend to all the needs of the baby during the night. Typically, for the mother, therefore, it is a long, wearying night.

The poor mother gets up in the morning having caught almost no sleep, exhausted and drained physically and emotionally.

Yet she must face another day of sleeplessness and ceaseless labor until the baby grows up.

Now think of the story of Ijapa.

IV

IV

ByMoyo Okediji

“The Police Area Commander (AC) is interested in the case,” a police officer with a cellphone said. “He just called to say that he is now at his seat, and wants to see all of you in his office.” The AC’s office was about one hundred meters across the yard, from where we were seated. We all filed into the AC’s office. He was seated, and his large desk was decorated with pictures, flags and small objects with personal sentimental values. He was a handsome middle-aged man who seemed rather too pleasant looking to be a police officer. Not until he stood up did I realize that his gait was forward-leaning, with the robust physique of a football tackler. You wouldn’t want to be in his way despite his handsome mien.

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