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There is no fear.
There is no fear except the one we make up.
The fear we harbor is us.
On this planet, there is nothing to lose.
I’m a refugee
I’m a refugee
An exile, a stranger
In a gold residence.
Home died decades away.
Those who opened their door
To welcome my wandering legs
Point to me their tables
decked with wine and sweetbread.
METAMODERN VISION OF TOLA WEWE.
I am joyful today that I gave birth to a new baby.
As a writer, I am always very happy to see my new book in print.
A book is like a child: it takes a lot of work to raise a child.
But the credit for raising a child doesn’t belong to the parents only: the community also supports the parents as they raise the child from infancy to adulthood.
MEANINGLESS WORD
MEANINGLESS WORD
“Food is not ready,” Iya Oyo informed me. “This is just a snack. I know you are hungry” In Yoruba she said “Fi eléyìí panu. Mo mọ̀ pé ebi ti ń pa ẹ́.”
She left me a bowl full of boiled groundnuts. I loved boiled groundnuts. It was still in the shell. “You can throw the shells here after cracking them.” In Yoruba , she said, “Pa èèpo ẹ̀pà ná à sínú abọ́ yìí.
ILẸ̀ Ọ̀GẸ́RẸ́ AFỌKỌ́ YẸRÍ
The idea of ILẸ̀ Ọ̀GẸ́RẸ́ AFỌKỌ́ YẸRÍ must be difficult for those who interpret reality from the binary western tradition of male/female, living/dead, organic/synthetic, plant/animal, tall/short, high/low, liquid/solid, left/right and right/wrong or past/present.
Orò Ilé
Artist: Moyo Okediji
Title: Orò Ilé
Medium: terracotta
Date: 2010
