The art editor
Kally Ozolua, the art editor of The Nation Newspaper has a good story on my arrest by THE NIGERIA POLICE.
Readallaboutit here:
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Zoom classroom
In the United States, the Zoom classroom is becoming the norm in an abnormal world.
It’s unbelievable that the death toll in the United States is nearing the 250,000 number.
That sort of figure is beyond imagination—one-quarter of a million people dead.
How does one wrap one’s mind around that sort of number, in terms of fallen heroes in a single war that has not yet even lasted one year?.
Whereas in Africa, hardly anyone is dying.
When last week the press reported the fall of Jerry Rawlings to the pandemic, it was so shocking, because in Nigeria, everybody is wining, dining, partying, and marketing as if nothing is going on, and everything is honky-dory.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Eight)
His jaw was clenched as Rufus advanced toward Obaseki. I realized that he was shutting off the reasoning valve and pressing on the throttle of turmoil within the engine of his brain. His sense, judgment, calculation and intelligence was at this point on vacation. The agents of automation were now in control of his anatomy. He was more machine than person, and his entire being was on remote control as Rufus began to press forward.
Semioptics of Yoruba Language: Word as Image
On Friday, March 2, from 6:30-8pm, I will present a lecture titled, “Semioptics of Yoruba Language: Word as Image.”
The lecture takes place at the Center for African Studies, Department of African American and African Studies, of the Ohio State University.
HATE AND LOVE ARE BROTHER AND SISTER
I ran into one of my childhood friends in Ile Ife two years ago. He is now a university professor.
We decided to go and get a drink and as we started drinking, we discussed the pleasures of living together in the same house as children for many years.
We all lived together as one family in that house.
He was the son of Baba Alhaji, the landlord.
Are Africans “shithole” as President Donald Trump has allegedly pontificated?
I arrived the United States in September 1992. When I stepped on US soil at the JFK airport I had exactly $98 in my pocket. Yet by February 1995, I successfully defended my doctoral dissertation at one of the best universities in the United States. I never enjoyed a penny of scholarship money. I was not entitled to, nor did I receive student loan. I worked my way through college.
