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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How to train an apprentice artist?
How to train an apprentice artist?
Get her to work with you on your own art.
Get her to go through the process that you go through.
Get her to understand that it is a lot of work.
But there is no amount of talking that can convey that fact to her.
My 62nd Anniversary
For my 62nd anniversary, the wonderful artist Afolabi Damilare made this portrait for me.
It’s amazing how time flies.
I still remember when I was a child, and I used to run around naked in the rain, with my dondolo dangling for everybody to enjoy, on the streets of Ile Ife.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Seventeen)
I was already tipsy when Gina screamed.
But the performance on the stage continued as if nothing was happening. Obaseki got up and went into the ushers’ chamber. I tried really hard to see what was happening at the other end of the arena, to get an idea of what was happening to Gina. I really couldn’t see her. But because Joshua, who was assaulting Gina, was wearing a white suit, he was relatively visible, next to Gina, who, going by what she wore during the day, was in a red gown. But it appeared that Gina was already on the floor, and Joshua was kicking her, as she continued to scream while it seemed he continued to hit her.
Oluorogbo–the first scholar.
Oluorogbo–the first scholar.
In Ile Ife is a fellow to whom the invention of writing is ascribed.
His name is Oluorogbo.
(But this fellow is different from Olurorogbo, the son of Moremi).
Over the centuries, Oluorogbo’s scripts have disappeared because his books were buried during a conflict–a failed attempt to preserve the scripts and prevent them from getting into the hands of the enemies.
PARABLE OF IJAPA and CHILD
PARABLE OF IJAPA and CHILD
There is an old Yoruba proverb that says “The child insisting that his mother must not sleep will also not get any sleep.” (Ọmọ tó ní ìyá òun ò ní í sùn kò ní fojú ba oorun).
Women who nurse babies know the challenge of getting enough sleep while a baby is still unable to understand the difference between night and day. The baby keeps waking up to feed, cry, poo and pee.
The mother must attend to all the needs of the baby during the night. Typically, for the mother, therefore, it is a long, wearying night.
The poor mother gets up in the morning having caught almost no sleep, exhausted and drained physically and emotionally.
Yet she must face another day of sleeplessness and ceaseless labor until the baby grows up.
Now think of the story of Ijapa.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY 1981 (Part Thirty)
“My he—he—he=aler at the psychi-psychi-atric hos—hos—hos–pital made me sw-sw-sw-ear never to have a con—con—con—con—con-fron-front-tation again with Miiiiiiiiisster Ru—ru-rufus,” Obaseki was whispering to me, from under the table. “Says he-he-he will bring me back back in.”
“It’s okay, Obaseki,” I said. “You come out and sit here at the table. I will go and see what’s happening.”
“Don’t, don’t, don’t leave me, Mo-Mo-Moyo,” Obaseki pleaded. “Please- plea-se-stay-stay-stay-don’t—don’t go….”
“It’s alright, Obaseki,” I assured him. “Whatever the matter is, we will get to the very bottom of it today. This is really ridiculous!”
