The Odo Ogbe market
I went to the Odo Ogbe market, Ile Ife.
The market women went, “Oyinbo, come give us a hug.”
This world is beautiful.
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Oladejo Okediji
Oladejo Okediji, a handsome gentleman who also happens to be my baba, is receiving great honors from the Obafemi Awolowo University and the South West Association of Nigerian Authors–to acknowledge his contribution to African literature, at the young age of 90.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twelve)
Iya Ngu stopped eating. She had not touched most of the food in front of her, and did not eat the two pieces of goat meat left in her plate after Professor Wangboje helped himself to the first one. She began to wash her hands.
“Madam,” I asked, “you are not eating the meat? It’s delicious goat meat.”
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.”
CAT
I laff so-tay las’ night my head fall commot my neck.
And I’m not making up this story.
My Chinese friend called me and said her friend, Tunde, who lives in Canada, wanted me to tell her the meaning of “Cat” in Yoruba.
“Why didn’t Tunde just tell you what ‘cat’ means in Yoruba himself?” I asked surprised.
Court was sweet in Abuja today, no be lie.
Court was sweet in Abuja today, no be lie.
This is just kindergarten o.
Those that the gods would destroy, don’t they first drive them mad?
The last presidential elections were very sweet, abi?
We collected bags of rice, tubers of yams, even ororo oil, na lie?
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twenty-Nine)
Some fire seemed out of Papa Ru as he sat, something which would be clear to someone who knew him well, and might not be noticed by others.
I saw the difference in the grey dim to his eyes. It was less in the bow that formed around his shoulders as he leaned forward on the table, under which Obaseki was hiding. But Rufus was hardly aware of his own body yet. It was the first time he left his room since we carried him there the moment we arrived from burial. He seemed to have a hard time just keeping his face from falling off his head. As if to ensure that did not happen, he pressed his chin into his palm, his elbow resting firmly on the table for support, seemingly carrying the entire weight of his torso.
