a picture of Àkòdì Òrìṣà at sunset, Ile Ife, Nigeria.

Àkòdì Òrìṣà at sunset, Ile Ife, Nigeria.

ByMoyo Okediji

Àkòdì Òrìṣà at sunset, Ile Ife, Nigeria.

This is the location of the Àkòdì Òrìṣà, the home of the ancestral orisa in Yoruba country.

The curator of the Àkòdì Òrìṣà sent me this picture to inform me of the treat that awaits me when I return to Ile Ife. I’ll be there soon. Soon.

A land without hurricanes, wildfires, tornadoes.

No earthquake, no flooding, no landslide.

The land is so fertile, you can farm all year round.

Drop a coin on the ground, and it sprouts gold.

Oh. my home.

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ÀMỌ̀TẸ́KÙN: No kidding

ByMoyo Okediji

ÀMỌ̀TẸ́KÙN: No kidding

The Yoruba forests have already lost too many animals to local hunters who spare nothing with life in the bushes.

And the Yoruba language has lost too many words to the brainwashed indigenes who refuse to speak the language or pass it down to their children.

It is not a good time to ask for the meaning of Àmọ̀tékùn.

The meaning is totally lost, to be honest with everyone.

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José, my gardener.

ByMoyo Okediji

I looked out through the window. The grass was not yet tall enough to mow. It had rained, and green life was returning to Austin after the long winter, and spring was almost fully here.

But the snowstorm of a month ago in Texas dealt Austin a cruel hand and plant life has not really recovered.

“José,” I said, “The lawn doesn’t need you yet. Maybe in a week, two?”

“I need the money, Mr. Moyo,” José pleaded.

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Iya Oyo

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They gave us an assignment when I was an undergraduate taking a Yoruba class.

We were asked to find five proverbs on mental illness.

I was in luck because Iya Oyo and Baba Oyo were visiting us in Ile Ife at that time and I found her at the back of the house, lounging.

That was easy, I thought.

A PICTURE OF ONE OF THE SCULPTURES FROM THE AKODI ORISA

Oluorogbo–the first scholar.

ByMoyo Okediji

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.

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