Coffeehouse.
Coffeehouse in Austin.
It can get pretty wild out here in Austin if you know what I mean.
Interested in some of my published works?
Follow Me
Similar Posts
Twins: Taye and Kehinde
Are you a twin?
Yes, you are.
We are all twins.
Some drag their twin other to the world.
Most of us leave ours back at the source, in the other world.
When we talk to ourselves, we are ritually chatting with our twin in the other world.
In Yorubaland, twin births are frequent.
Ẹyẹ: Bird
Ẹyẹ: Bird I told Iya Oyo that I was scared when a couple of birds perched on top of the large tree in front of the house and were making loud sounds, one calling and the other responding.“You are afraid of birds?” Iya Oyo asked me.“Yes,” I said. “My playmates told me they are witches, àjẹ́.”
CAMPUS TALES
CAMPUS TALES
She said, “I’m certain I’m not a C grade material,” she complained to me. “During my School certificate exam, I scored A grades in most of my courses, and was admitted to the university. Once there, I attended all the lectures, studied really hard and was always ready for the exams. But then, whenever I got my scripts back, I always scored a C grade. I became curious and confused because my friends who did not study, partied throughout the semester and paid no attention to classes, always scored A and B+ grades.”
The COVID-19 goes beyond a biological virus.
The COVID-19 goes beyond a biological virus.
It is a total systemic collapse.
Everybody thought December 31, 1999, was the date of crisis–when all the computation programs would break down and we would have nothing to hold on to.
Folks were worried, and getting ready for 12-31-1999.
But we did not prepare for 02-20-2020.
THE VOYAGE
THE VOYAGE
About 30 years ago, I slept at the Murtala Muhammed Airport for four days.
No, I was not a homeless vagabond.
I had bought the Nigeria Airways ticket to fly to the United States for a one-year sabbatical leave.
But when I arrived at the airport, I realized that my ticket was not honored, though I had bought it legitimately.
Whenever a plane was about to leave Lagos for New York, the NA officials posted a manifest list, and my name was not there.
Exactly one year ago today.
Exactly one year ago today, my father, the venerated Yoruba writer, Oladejo Okediji, joined the ancestors. His transition proved to me the truth in the saying that death is an illusion.
One does not die.
I still see him in the house,
discuss with him in my studio,
drink with him in my parlor,
dance with him at my parties,
just as I used to.