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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The first woman president in Africa Visited my class
The first woman president in Africa, President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf of Liberia, visited my class yesterday to talk to students taking my DIASPORA VISIONS course.
A Nobel Peace Prize Laureate, Presidential Medal of Freedom recipient, and one of Forbes 100 Most Powerful Women in the world, President Sirleaf was a delight to spend time with.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY 1981 (Part Five)
Obaseki, looked cornered. He certainly was not anticipating an encounter with me at the restaurant. His shrunken face looked collapsed with fatigue. The anxiety that he was feeling was palpable. His face began to twitch. It was bad enough when he saw me entering the restaurant. But the moment I informed him that Rufus was on his way to join us, his system could no longer handle the tension. He stood up. He patted his pockets.
“What is the matter?” I asked him. “Is everything fine?”
“Oh, I was-was-just checking my—my—my pocket. For my-my-my-house keys.”
“And is it in your pocket?”
Last night, I went to get some fruits at the groceries.
Last night, I went to get some fruits at the groceries.
As I returned, there was an unusual line at the intersection with a gas station.
Rather than wait, I cut through the gas station and joined the road to my house.
Immediately, a police car followed me, it’s light flashing like it was Christmas, commanding me to pull over.
Obituary
Oladejo Okediji, 1929-2019.
Death knocked on the door, ko ko ko ko; ko ko ko ko.
My father got up from the bed and went to the door and, very boldly, opened the door, saying, “Here I am. I’m ready for your very worst.”
Death: It’s not my fault. It’s just a job. This is what I’m paid to do.
Baba: I understand. Do it. Let’s get it over with.
Like a bird
Like a bird, I mostly live on seeds and fruits these days.
The seeds last long, and I can easily store them in my self-isolated den.
But the fruits, I prefer them “fresh.” I, therefore, buy only enough to last for about a week whenever I visit the grocery store near my house.
So, I put on my Koro hijab and went to the grocery store.
Hahahaha! Look at his Johnny Walker!
Yesterday I made this funny painting. Hahahaha! Look at his Johnny Walker!
I sampled the painting from a wood panel sculptured by Dada Arowoogun, a Yoruba artist whose work narrates Yoruba life during the 19th century.
The work is relevant because Yoruba people are still doing what we used to call “two-fighting.” In our primary school days, when the teacher forbade speaking in vernacular, and all the English we knew were three words: “Two fighting” were two crucial words of the three.