Foluso
Akodi Orisa resident artist, Foluso.
painting, architecture, textiles, terracotta, performance.
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INNER VISION: OJÚ INÚ
About 50 villages, mostly located in Ogun States, have been abandoned by Yoruba farmers and their families, but now occupied by Fulani invaders who drove out these villagers.
This morning I saw videos of the officers of the Nigerian Customs and Excises raiding the shops of poor market women, removing items that these women bought for sale to their customers.
This is a two-prong attack: the villagers driven out of their villages are unable to farm and provide food supplies for the people in towns and cities.
DIFFICULT PRAYERS
DIFFICULT PRAYERS
Iya Oyo mumbled a growl to the greeting, when a neighbor said, “A kò ní rí alákǒbá o.” It means “May we not be the victim of a saboteur,”
I said, “Iya Oyo, you did not say Àṣȩ” to that man’s prayer.”
Hahahaha! Look at his Johnny Walker!
Yesterday I made this funny painting. Hahahaha! Look at his Johnny Walker!
I sampled the painting from a wood panel sculptured by Dada Arowoogun, a Yoruba artist whose work narrates Yoruba life during the 19th century.
The work is relevant because Yoruba people are still doing what we used to call “two-fighting.” In our primary school days, when the teacher forbade speaking in vernacular, and all the English we knew were three words: “Two fighting” were two crucial words of the three.
Oladejo Okediji
Oladejo Okediji–who happens to be my father, is the oldest living writer in the Yoruba language.
He is 89 this year.
He is pictured here with the cover of his first novel, Àjà Ló Lẹrù, published in 1969.
Baba is still pretty prolific. His latest book, Ohùn Ẹnu Àgbà, came out this year. It is a collection of his poems.
OSUMARE: RAINBOW GALLERY
OSUMARE: RAINBOW GALLERY
At the Akodi Orisa Sanctuary, Ile Ife, we have just completed the Rainbow (Osumare) Gallery.
The Rainbow is the mixture of fire and water blazing with luminous intensity across the middle belt of the sky, affirming the unity of all colors, all peoples, all races, all tongues, all hands and heads, committed to the principle of creativity.
CAN WE INHALE?
My friend called me from Dallas last night and asked “Are you watching the trial of Derek Chauvin?”
I said no.
She continued, saying, “One must be careful not to spend too much time listening to the ongoing trial of the former police officer accused of murdering George Floyd, or you will become an expert in forensic pathology.”
“I don’t stand that risk,” I said.
“Unfortunately,” she replied, “I am becoming an expert in forensic pathology.”