Weather is turning cold.
Weather is turning cold.
Really chilly and rainy
Time to look for those warm things, and drink tea laced with honey. Or whatever.
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Oladejo Okediji
Oladejo Okediji–who happens to be my father, is the oldest living writer in the Yoruba language.
He is 89 this year.
He is pictured here with the cover of his first novel, Àjà Ló Lẹrù, published in 1969.
Baba is still pretty prolific. His latest book, Ohùn Ẹnu Àgbà, came out this year. It is a collection of his poems.
YORUBA OR ODUDUWA?
I prefer the name Yoruba Republic.
Oduduwa Republic would be a second choice.
I prefer Yoruba Republic because the word “Yoruba” already has a global circulation and reception.
Yoruba language is taught in many universities in the world, including the University of Texas, Austin, with two full-time professors giving lectures to undergraduate and graduate students.
In addition to the professors teaching Yoruba language, I teach Yoruba art, and there are distinguished professors teaching Yoruba history.
It saddens me.
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.
My love, best friend,companion, and confidant
My love, best friend, companion, and confidant left me yesterday.
She finally drove away with her husband yesterday in the morning, to his place in Florida, several hours away from me.
I went on a walk this morning
I went on a walk this morning, and it felt really good.
As I walked, something occurred to me: The world is an incredible garden in which we were meant to simply hang out, enjoy, party, make love and multiply.
But what do we really do?
We bitch, hate, steal, cheat, lie, cry and even kill.
The Corona prophet, therefore, came to warn us.
Another of the paintings I just discovered in my garage.
Another of the paintings I just discovered in my garage.This painting, however, has the distinction of being one the oldest canvases I have in my possession—painted in 1992. It was the painting in which I had a breakthrough. It was in this painting that I unlearned everything my teachers taught me.I realize that in life, we do not see things like a camera.