a picture of moyo okediji working at the akodi orisha

The things we take for granted.

ByMoyo Okediji

The things we take for granted.

I wanted to plant some flowers. Ordinarily I would simply jump up, grab the seeds, and plant the flowers.

But things are now different.

Without a serviceable leg, I had to think carefully of the strategy that would enable me to plant the flowers.

First, I needed an àpótí, which is a small wooden seat that I could sit on and move from one spot to another, as I planted the seeds.

Then I had to tie the container of the seeds to one of my crutches, which would afford me an economy of movement, without needing any assistance.

Third, I would tuck the cutlass under an arm as I moved from place to place.

And, oh, I had to tie a plastic bag to cover my POP cast, or it would get soiled.

I did all the above, and completed the task of planting new flowers. We will begin to enjoy the bloom before the end of the rainy season this year.

Being handicapped is an opportunity for thinking clearly and well ahead of time.

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a post showing Moyo OKediji art piece

MY SUGGESTION

ByMoyo Okediji

A friend, who is also a devout, church-going Christian just talked with me a few minutes ago. He called from Nigeria.

“What is wrong with these kids?” he asked me. “Why can’t they protest peacefully? What has their quarrel against police brutality got to do with burning down buildings, and looting stores? They are criminals. They are worse than the politicians they are criticizing. If you place them in positions of power, they would do worse.”

I didn’t respond. After all, I didn’t call him. He called. He must have something really important to say to have spent his money calling me.

a picture showing moyo okediji poised for the camera and behind him is one of his art piece

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twenty-Seven)

ByMoyo Okediji

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twenty-Seven)

“So whose panties are those?” Adolo asked, pointing at something.

She had just finished wiping down my feverish body. She sat on the chair. Felicia sat on the table and Steve stood, holding on to the open door of the wardrobe.

I didn’t know what Adolo was referring to.

“What panties?” I asked.

“These ones,” She said.

Steve looked in her direction, and answered, “Gina’s”

I was weary and in a dreamlike state. The fan whirling above was noisy, and as it blew the air on my wet body, I felt bone-rattling shivering spells.

I really wanted to cover my body with the blanket.

“She must have left them there when she was here,” Steve said.

“Gina?” Adolo asked. “Who is Gina?”

“Guess you may say Moyo’s new girl,” Steve said.

“Moyo? He has a new girlfriend?” Adolo asked.

a picture showing moyo okediji poised for the camera

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twenty-two)

ByMoyo Okediji

“You’re kidding me, right?” I asked Steve when he said that Gina was probably in my room. He extended his bottle of beer to Rufus who yanked off the top with his teeth and handed it back.

“Why sounding so alarmed?” Steve asked. “If you asked me, I’d say let’s swap places.”

“What!” I said, alarmed at his suggestion.

“You can stay in my cold room tonight,” Steve, “and I can use your warm room.”

“Is that British custom?” I asked sarcastically.

Did he wink? I couldn’t quite tell in the dark. He said, “The British have no custom. Only Africans have customs.”

a picture showing moyo okediji poised for the camera

SIMPLE QUESTIONS?

ByMoyo Okediji

When I arrived in the United States thirty years ago, I couldn’t call the US a new land.

It might be new to me, but it was not new to those who were born there.

But if the history of the United States were written by me, I would call the United States, “new land.”

That has been the experience of peoples in Africa.

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