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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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.”
William Shakespeare, KING CHARLES III, Act 1, Scene 1, #3 EGUNGUN: With what magic do you…
I ran into one of my childhood friends in Ile Ife two years ago. He is now a university professor.
We decided to go and get a drink and as we started drinking, we discussed the pleasures of living together in the same house as children for many years.
We all lived together as one family in that house.
He was the son of Baba Alhaji, the landlord.
He was unable to eat or sleep, as anxiety and depression began to unravel his characteristic calm disposition. Only a couple of months prior to the abduction, the wife of the Commissioner of Works was kidnapped and an undisclosed but generous ransom was paid for her release. Kidnapping had become the new strategy adopted by members of the underworld, who targeted the rich and famous in their bid to get rich quick. Business tycoons, expatriate oil executives, journalists, politicians, and even religious leaders and their families were constant targets. Abduction had become a multi million naira enterprise in Nigeria, and the police seemed unable to find any solution to the problem. No kidnapper had been arrested, and huge sums of ransom money had been paid. Many people complained that there was evidence of collusion between the security forces and the criminals.
As Rufus exited the buka, it was clear that Obaseki was disappointed.
With Madam Ngu and Prof. Wangboje present at the dining table, the circumstances for a total mediation of the crisis were perfect.
They would have just instructed Rufus to cut it, and that would have been the end. Obaseki could not have wished for a better opportunity.
But Rufus left to start his audition with his theater students without the discussion of the crisis coming up. One thing was certain: Rufus was mad and did not hide it.
My mumu is too much.
Hear my story o.
They just fixed the electricity at my place in Nigeria.
To get it fixed, I bought four poles, and hundreds of yards of cable.
I contributed hundreds of thousands of naira to get the transformer.
I bought the meter.
And paid to have the entire thing installed.
But I understand that none of these things that I bought belongs to me.
They all belong to the government.
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?”