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ÀÌKÚ

ÀÌKÚ

ByMoyo Okediji

When I was a kid between the ages of three to ten, my friends and I were fond of watching Lọ́baníkà, an egúngún masquerade that performed regularly once a year in my neighborhood at Iremo in Ile Ife. Lobanika’s annual act was the highlight of the entire community, and we always waited with joy for the week when Lobanika performed to the delight of all and sundry

a picture showing moyo okediji poised for the camera

Captive No More

ByMoyo Okediji

Captive No More

1

What you are reading is not poetry. It is not fiction. It is my true family history.

I am an ascendant from slavery. Yes.

It means I am a descendant of enslaved bodies. Yes.

Inside me, they locked iron collars,

leg fetters, and hand lockers. Yes.

Yes. Does it sound weird? Yes.

Slavery was real in Africa. Yes

Africa was the Ground Zero of slavery. Yes.

a picture showing moyo okediji poised for the camera

Cellphone Conversation

ByMoyo Okediji

Cellphone Conversation

(After Wole Soyinka’s “Telephone Conversation”)

My phone rang, I recognized the number

and picked it up.

“Hey, babe,” I said,

“What’s going on?”

She started laughing,

and it seemed she wanted to talk,

but just couldn’t control herself.

I wanted to know

what was so funny. Finally,

she managed to stop laughing.

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