Baba Rowland Abiodun, author of the groundbreaking treatise, YORUBA ART AND LANGUAGE: SEEKING THE AFRICAN IN AFRICAN ART, enlightening the audience at the University of Texas, Austin.
Gọn̄gọ́ sọ ní ọjọ́ ná à. It was an earth-shaking moment, as he took us through the meaning of art and aesthetic as a humanizing tool in the cosmogony of autochtonous African ways of creating and sharing values.
One may live long
And one may not.
One should share whatever one could to posterity when one is still able to do so.
This morning I decided to share this Odu because it is very important.
Kally Ozolua, the art editor of The Nation Newspaper has a good story on my arrest by THE NIGERIA POLICE.
DIFFICULT PRAYERS
Iya Oyo mumbled a growl to the greeting, when a neighbor said, “A kò ní rí alákǒbá o.” It means “May we not be the victim of a saboteur,”
I said, “Iya Oyo, you did not say Àṣȩ” to that man’s prayer.”
My anti-coronavirus Esu.
I produced this Esu object and hung it in front of my door.
My house is marked safe.
When their Agent of Death is passing by, it sees the Esu object.
Esu, the gatekeeper, informs the Agent of Death that “He doesn’t live here. He lives on the other street.”
A scale drops from my eyes, and gradually these terrains of the future open out to me.
All around me, I find these characters from the future visiting the present domain.
They are sculpted out of fire.
Rufus was almost done eating the plate of food abandoned by Obaseki, and was washing his hand, still chewing the last piece of the goat meat. Then to my amazement, we saw Obaseki as he returned, walking through the door, straight into the buka. He looked dazed, as if he was walking in his sleep. He hesitated briefly, before making directly for our table. Dede Mabiaku took one look at him, and said, “Dis man don shack very bad Igbo.” (“This man looks like he has been smoking pot.”)