Foluso
Akodi Orisa resident artist, Foluso.
painting, architecture, textiles, terracotta, performance.
Interested in some of my published works?
Follow Me
Akodi Orisa resident artist, Foluso.
painting, architecture, textiles, terracotta, performance.
At the coffee shop.
Guys checking out my friend, like “What’s that?”
We are the people of the 22nd century.
Iya Oyo!” I hailed. “Baba Oyo told me this story about Orí, and it doesn’t make any sense to me whatsoever.”“What story?” she asked. “Is it from his Bible? There are lots of incredulous stories in that book of his.”“No, it’s not from grandpa’s Bible,” I assured her. “He said it’s a story his mother told him.”
Last night, I went to get some fruits at the groceries.
As I returned, there was an unusual line at the intersection with a gas station.
Rather than wait, I cut through the gas station and joined the road to my house.
Immediately, a police car followed me, it’s light flashing like it was Christmas, commanding me to pull over.
Iya Oyo says language, èdè, is everything.“Do you know the meaning of language, èdè?” Iya Oyo asked me.“It’s what we speak, isn’t it, Iya Oyo?” I replied.“Yes, and no,” Iya Oyo instructed me. “Èdè is what holds us together. What is the meaning of dè?”
Rufus could tell something was wrong when he opened the door and saw me. All he needed to do was to take one look into my eyes and he could read me like a book. First, I had been gone all day. All I went do was to drop off Josephine and Gina. He expected that I would be back within an hour, maybe two maximum. The hospital was not that far, maybe fifteen minutes. I left before 8 am, and it was 6 pm when I came back.
Wisconsin, Madison, 1994. Naming ceremony.
I was a college student.
One of my Nigerian colleagues had just finished his Ph.D., and he returned to Nigeria.
He had no idea that his girlfriend in Madison was pregnant.
When he was contacted, he decided that he was not returning to the US.
The pregnant girlfriend decided she was not going to Nigeria to join him.