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RIWO-RIWO-YO-O YO-O
RIWO-RIWO-YO-O YO-O
Did you watch those videos!
Seriously, something consequential is transpiring as we speak.
I saw a couple of videos today, and I asked myself, “Doesn’t it look like Yorubaland is under confrontation condition? Hasn’t the west lit it up again?”
IS YORUBA CULTURE POLYGAMOUS?
The secondary school rusticated me for being part of a riot that the students organized and carried out with meticulous sagacity.
Flabbergasted, I traveled to Ile Ife where we lived, from Oyo, where I schooled.
My father was amused that they rusticated me.
“Did you really participate in the riot?” my father asked.
“I did not,” I answered.
THIS MORNING
This morning, in my African Diaspora Visions class (an art history class that I teach at the University of Texas, Austin), a student from Trinidad and Tobago said, “In a hundred years, everybody in the world will be a Nigerian, or have family ties to Nigerians.”
How I wished
Here I was, instructing my students at the University of Texas, Austin, on the principles of Ifa computational coding. How I wished I also enjoyed the opportunity to teach young people in universities in Africa this same skill. But I have no such opportunity. And it’s not for a lack of trying, even offering my services for free.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Sixteen)
“Hold it, hold it,” Obaseki said, “here come your people.” He gestured with his nose in the direction of a couple of flickering lights in the dense darkness.
“What is going on there,” I asked?
“That’s Joshua’s spot,” Obaseki said. “He just arrived. And he has company. Most probably Gina.”
I was drunk, anyway, so I asked for one more bottle of beer.
“We are out of ready-made snails,” our attendant explained. “We can make some for you by order. But I recommend you try our ram. There is no better ram in the world than ours.”
ÒTURÁ ÒDÍ/ ÒTÚRÚPỌ̀N ÒTURÁ
This morning, a friend from Nigeria called me and asked the question: “What will happen to the politics of Nigeria, to President Buhari, and the 2023 elections in Nigeria?”
“I don’t know,” I responded.
“But Ifa knows, right?” she asked. “Isn’t Ifa supposed to know everything?”
“Okay,” I responded. “I will ask Ifa and let you know later.”
I brought out my laptop and used the Ifa computation system.
