The stuffs in my office
The stuff in my office needs organizing. One day I’ll get to it. One of these days when I have nothing to do.
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The stuff in my office needs organizing. One day I’ll get to it. One of these days when I have nothing to do.
Let the house rat hear
and tell the bush rat.
Safeguard your community.
Let each community of 1000 citizens
Form a fence of 100 youths.
Take a census of 1000 names
in each community unit.
Document the name, age and occupation
of everyone within your community.
Do not rely on police protection
there is none anymore.
RIWO-RIWO-YO-O YO-O
Did you watch those videos!
Seriously, something consequential is transpiring as we speak.
I saw a couple of videos today, and I asked myself, “Doesn’t it look like Yorubaland is under confrontation condition? Hasn’t the west lit it up again?”
Title: Lyrics of Joy
Medium: acrylic on canvas
Date: 2018
Where art you joy
that we all seek you
and find you not?
Joy is in eating less,
and eating carefully, simply.
Joy lives in giving more,
and consuming little.
My annual (NOT monthly) salary as a Senior Lecturer at the Obafemi Awolowo University in 1992 (right before I left for the United States) was N9,600.
It’s not a typo. N9,600 only, for the entire year.
It saddens me.
It saddens me a lot that the southern people are not able to understand the urgency of the situation they are involved in.
Those you call the Fulani herdsmen, or the Fulani people—they are the Taliban.
Please read the last line again.
Those you call Fulani herdsmen are the Taliban.
“Wole Soyinka wants to have a word with Rufus. Tell him to come as soon as possible. Kongi travels out of the country next week,” was the simple message that I got back from Kole Omotosho.
Omotosho was the head of the Dramatic Art Department, University of Ife. He sent a driver to me to collect a manuscript, “Marx and Mask,” written by the brilliant Ghanaian writer, Ayi Kwei Armah.
Soyinka regularly received manuscripts from several writers, and after making copies, he would distribute the manuscripts among his circle of intellectuals who met at least once a week to read and discuss the manuscripts.