MAKING AFRICA
Yes, tomorrow I will give a gallery talk in the MAKING AFRICA exhibition at the Blanton Museum, University of Texas, Austin.
I will title the talk, “I am Africa.”
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WHAT’S ON YOUR MIND?
“I was cursed by a mad woman,” said this caller.
It all began with a message I found in my Facebook messenger box.
“Prof, what is your WhatsApp number,” the Facebook message reads. “My number is xxx. I want to discuss something important with you and I don’t want to write it on Facebook.”
We are all mere dust and equally so.
One day, I was having a discussion with a friend at the University of Ife in the early seventies.
I was seventeen years old.
Somehow the conversation drifted to “superiors.” I think he said something about “your superiors.”
I told him quite candidly that “I don’t have any superior.”
He was angry with me. Seriously, I don’t think he had heard that sort of response before.
But I was shocked that he was furious.
WHO ARE YOU?
We often talk of three ethnic groups: Hausa, Yoruba and Igbo.
But in reality we are a lot more than these.
Do you belong to any of the following 371 ethnic groups in Nigeria?
If not write your ethnic group here and tell us the state in which you are classified.
Things are happening rapidly in Nigeria.
Things are happening rapidly in Nigeria.
Terrorism has fully found a home in the southwest.
Who attacked Sunday Igboho’s house, destroyed the place and left human blood and tissues all over the property?
Igboho’s house has become a monument to the struggle for freedom, independence and peace in Africa.
A NEW BOOK IS OUT!!!
Good news from the brilliant Ohio State University professor, Adeleke Adeeko:
His new book is out. The cover of the book features my drawing, “Sketches of (S)pain.” The title of my drawing alludes to the jazz abstraction of Miles Davis, whose album, Sketches of Spain, fetched him a Grammy in 1960.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Thirty-One)
Rape?
That was the last thing on my mind although it was clear to me there was something amiss about Gina. I was lost for words. My body felt numb.
It was an experience I could not imagine as a man. All I could think of was how humiliating it must have felt for a person you didn’t want to pin you down and force entry into your body.
I sat there for a long time and could not utter a word. I could not find any statement of consolation to bring calm to Gina. She looked paralyzed. It seemed the best thing to do at the moment was not to say anything. Perhaps by not saying anything, I could pretend it did not happen.
