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In a nation of thieves
In a nation of thieves
the innocent
is a criminal.
Ha ha ha ha.
Don’t quote me o!
Who owns your body?
Who owns your body?
Would you be shocked to learn
you don’t own your body?
Ten things, I hate to tell you,
claim ownership of your body
The first owner of your body
is your name.
Could Black life matter?
Could Black life matter,
without Black thoughts
and values mattering?
The indigenous African traditions
cannot breathe:
invasive viral forces
have placed their morbid knees
on the throats of indigenous African philosophy,
science, pedagogy, technology,
MEANINGLESS WORD
MEANINGLESS WORD
“Food is not ready,” Iya Oyo informed me. “This is just a snack. I know you are hungry” In Yoruba she said “Fi eléyìí panu. Mo mọ̀ pé ebi ti ń pa ẹ́.”
She left me a bowl full of boiled groundnuts. I loved boiled groundnuts. It was still in the shell. “You can throw the shells here after cracking them.” In Yoruba , she said, “Pa èèpo ẹ̀pà ná à sínú abọ́ yìí.
This is too easy, right?
This is too easy, right?
Do you see this person?
It’s easy to see who is hiding in the picture and what the fellow is doing, isn’t it?
I wonder.
Àkòdì Òrìṣà
Àkòdì Òrìṣà:
a dream is gradually taking shape.