Foluso
Akodi Orisa resident artist, Foluso.
painting, architecture, textiles, terracotta, performance.
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When I arrived…
When I arrived the United States in 1992 to start a doctorate at UW, Madison, I had only $98 in my pocket.
My professor, Henry Drewal, quickly came to my assistance. He immediately paid my school fees for the first semester, and gave me $1,000 in cash to start me off. Then he provided me with free accommodation in the posh part of town for the first year of my studies, while I found my feet.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (PART Twenty-four)
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.
Ajé
I just completed this painting
as a tribute to
The Birth of a Beautiful Divinity, Ajé
Ajé (The Divinity of Profit, Prosperity and Wealth)
Acrylic on canvas
We Never Die
We Never Die
“Òkú is not dead,” said Iya Oyo. “In our [Yoruba] culture, we do not die.”
“How is that possible?” I asked her, astonished.
“We already defeated Ikú (Death),” Iya Oyo announced. “The defeat of Ikú is what the Odù Ifá called Ọ̀yẹ̀kú focuses on. Olójòǹgbòdú, the wife of Ikú is the great woman who accomplished the defeat of Ikú, and since then we no longer die.”
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Thirteen)
As Rufus exited the buka, it was clear that Obaseki was disappointed.
With Madam Ngu and Prof. Wangboje present at the dining table, the circumstances for a total mediation of the crisis were perfect.
They would have just instructed Rufus to cut it, and that would have been the end. Obaseki could not have wished for a better opportunity.
But Rufus left to start his audition with his theater students without the discussion of the crisis coming up. One thing was certain: Rufus was mad and did not hide it.
A TALE OF THREE ROBBERS
My father told me the story of three thieves. He was a fiction writer, so I never knew if it was something he made up, or read up.
But let me tell you the tale if you got one minute:
Three thieves received info that a miner kept a large bundle of gold in his house. They decided they should go and relieve the guy of his treasure. “After all,” argued one thief, “he dug up this stone from the ground that God gave all of us.”
