Orò Ilé
Artist: Moyo Okediji
Title: Orò Ilé
Medium: terracotta
Date: 2010
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The fellow hiding in this picture is easy to find, right
The fellow hiding in this picture is easy to find, right
To all Omo a yọ orù bá wọn tọ́jú ọmọ tuntun
To all Omo a yọ orù bá wọn tọ́jú ọmọ tuntun;
Ọmọ́ gbó,
Orù ò gbó:
the offspring of those who bring out the orù pot of herbs to care for infants;
the baby prospers,
and the pot does not falter.”
Captive No More (III)
Captive No More (III)
7.
Music is the language of tragedy,
and dance, the vocabulary of trauma.
Silence, the death of feelings,
marks the beginning of madness.
After my great grandmother in vain
yelled the name of her son, Akin,
several times, and got no response,
she stepped outside and scanned
where he was playing,
and yelled his name again,
when she did not see him there
her stomach sank
because down in the pit of her womb
she knew he was gone.
NAME YOUR TEACHER
NAME YOUR TEACHER
Who taught you
that you must breathe?
Who taught you
that you must eat?
that you must crawl?
that you must walk?
that you must talk?
that you must listen?
Who taught you
that your culture is inferior?
The Massacre of General Okoro
The Massacre of General Okoro
Is it funny
or merely coincidental
That, as they killed her son,
the mother was dreaming
She was breastfeeding him?
DAYS OF YORE
Those days when I was much younger, I explored photography.Here are some shots of Jummai, then a great model from Northern Nigeria, now a rising woman activist and politician.
