Coffeehouse.
Coffeehouse in Austin.
It can get pretty wild out here in Austin if you know what I mean.
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WHO OWNS YOUR NAME?
The most central building on our school campus was also the building that gave me claustrophobia. It was the school chapel.
Right in front of the building was a stone monument. Within the monument was a plaque, with the inscription, “STUDY TO SHEW THYSELF APPROVED UNTO GOD. 2 Timothy, 2:15”
That, certainly, was not good English, I concluded. Even at age eleven, I felt they needed a copyeditor.
Wèrèpè
Wèrèpè má so mọ́.
Devil bean weed, stop producing seeds,
Èyí tó o so lésǐn,
The seeds you produced last season
Baba ẹnìkan ò ka.
Weather is turning cold.
Weather is turning cold.
Really chilly and rainy
Time to look for those warm things, and drink tea laced with honey. Or whatever.
José, my gardener.
I looked out through the window. The grass was not yet tall enough to mow. It had rained, and green life was returning to Austin after the long winter, and spring was almost fully here.
But the snowstorm of a month ago in Texas dealt Austin a cruel hand and plant life has not really recovered.
“José,” I said, “The lawn doesn’t need you yet. Maybe in a week, two?”
“I need the money, Mr. Moyo,” José pleaded.
My first month
My first month in the United States, 1992.
I began to paint in my office at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
I was trying to discover myself again in a new world after leaving behind Nigeria and everything that was meaningful to me, everything that had anchored me.
Exactly One Year Ago
Exactly one year ago, I made the following statement about the impending presidential election, President Buhari and the state of the Nigerian nation.
Please read on:
The presidential election in Nigeria is postponed for another week.
Who will win between Buhari and Atiku?
(In all seriousness, all other names are not on the ballot).
The question is not whether Buhari will be reelected into office as the president of Nigeria.
