At the coffee shop.
Guys checking out my friend, like “What’s that?”
We are the people of the 22nd century.
There is none like us.
And one by one they will find out who we are, and what we mean to the survival of this planet that they try so hard to destroy with this thing they call “progress,” and “science.”
Sunday Morning Conversation With Yahoo Boy.
He is using the account of Moyo Owotomo:
Yahoo Boy: Good morning
Me: Good morning. It’s been forever. How are you doing?
Yahoo Boy: All thanks to God
How is everything with You
I have a business i have been benefitting from and i would like to introduce to you before I forget
Me: Ok, great.
Happy Valentine’s Day, my friends. I love you all minus none.
Me, here, painting away on a beautiful Valentine’s Day, seven years ago.
“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.”
“I just discovered a river!” Steve announced, breathless, as he ran into the sitting room with enthusiasm. “And it’s just fifteen minutes from here.”
I said, “Mungo Park.”
Rufus, spreading out on the sofa, said, “Where is it?”
“Hidden in plain sight!” Steve said. “I was driving down Ekenwan Street, and there was this dirt road by the side. I decided to explore it.”
“What’s the name of the street?” I asked.
“No signboard,” Steve said.
“There is no Benin street without a signboard,” Rufus said. “Benin people are good with signboards. Even narrow paths have signboards.”
The Apomu Border Patrol Officer.
It was Iya Oyo who told me about the Apomu Border Patrol Officer.
Iya Oyo said, “When extended to the limit, when you have reached your breaking point, when you cannot go any further, you know what to do?”
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.