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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Are Africans “shithole” as President Donald Trump has allegedly pontificated?
I arrived the United States in September 1992. When I stepped on US soil at the JFK airport I had exactly $98 in my pocket. Yet by February 1995, I successfully defended my doctoral dissertation at one of the best universities in the United States. I never enjoyed a penny of scholarship money. I was not entitled to, nor did I receive student loan. I worked my way through college.
A bunch of French neocolons
Why would a bunch of French neocolons sit in broad daylight and discuss strategies to come to Africa to experiment with the Coronavirus vaccines on African bodies? (Many of you have seen the viral video, I believe, of these two French humanists dialoguing about going to Africa to experiment with the Coronavirus vaccine on Africans). They can do that dialogue on television with such unimaginable confidence because they know fully well that Africans and especially their leaders have lost the necessary spiritual rigor to resist invasion and abuse.
Becoming an Olorisa is no longer an option for the African: it is the most effective form of intellectual and spiritual resistance against neocolonial aggression.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twenty-five)
Oyinbo drove us home from the burial ceremony.
Rufus and Felicia sat in the middle row of the bus. I sat all by myself at the back row. Nobody said a word as Steve drove slowly and solemnly through the city, negotiating the traffic with the dexterity of a spider moving through its tightly woven web.
When he was new, Steve found it difficult to drive through the city, because in Britain, they drive on the left side of the road, but in Nigeria people drive on the right side. Also, Steve found the drivers on the roads of Benin City extremely rough for his temperament.
30th ANNIVERSARY
Today, exactly thirty years ago, I arrived the United States.
Also, it is exactly thirty years ago I was in a plane crash.
It was the Nigeria Airways. Thirty odd years ago, and the memory is so vivid it feels like it happened yesterday.
A plane crash is not like a car crash. I’ve survived a couple of car crashes. A Car crash feels like a slow-motion movie.
A plane crash is different.
What is Male?
What is Male?
Who is male and who is female?
It all depends on time and space, as my father told me just before he joined the ancestors last year.
About two weeks to his transition, my father called me and said he needed to tell me something important.
Does anyone know where to get aásà?
Does anyone know where to get aásà? My grandma, her soul is resting in peace, She…