This cold weather is here again.
This cold weather is here again.
How many layers do I wear just to go and get a cup of coffee from Starbucks?
Six layers.
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Sunday Morning Conversation With Yahoo Boy.
Sunday Morning Conversation With Yahoo Boy.
He is using the account of Moyo Owotomo:
Yahoo Boy: Good morning
Me: Good morning. It’s been forever. How are you doing?
Yahoo Boy: All thanks to God
How is everything with You
I have a business i have been benefitting from and i would like to introduce to you before I forget
Me: Ok, great.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Thirty-One)
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Thirty-One)
Gina did not look glad or relaxed. I could read it in her posture, without even getting close to her.
Rufus said, “Moyo, Gina is back!”
Steve hardly allowed the bus to stop properly before jumping down to run and hug her.
“Is that her?” Adolo asked Felicia rather softly.
“Yes,” Felicia responded. “That’s her.”
I got down slowly, and took my time locking up the door. Then I went to Gina. She looked down and didn’t meet my eyes. I thought, “She must be mad because she didn’t see us at her father’s funeral.”
I studied with the Ìyàmi.
I studied with the Ìyàmi,
the Power Mothers who
suspend the global ball
on a single frail string,
yet it cannot snap.
After they gave me the name Ọ̀rìságbèmí Arígbábuwó, I transcend the boundaries of gender, race, time, and geography.
Here is the story of that transcendental embodiment, in its most concise form.
This young journalist called Sowore.
This young journalist called Sowore.
He reminds me of another journalist called Dele Giwa.
And another journalist called Ken Saro-Wiwa.
Do you know what happens to journalists like them?
The Not-I Bird (After Wole Soyinka’s Poem in DEATH AND THE KING’S HORSEMAN)
Artist: Moyo Okediji
Title: The Not-I Bird (After Wole Soyinka’s Poem in DEATH AND THE KING’S HORSEMAN)
Wole Soyinka: The Not-I Bird
“Not-I became the answering-name
Of the restless bird, that little one
Whom Death found nesting in the leaves
When whisper of his coming ran
Before him on the wind. Not-I
Has long abandoned home.
POLICE CHECKPOINT, BENIN CITY
It was in 1980, in Nigeria, when this police encounter occurred.
I will start by swearing
in the name of Ogun
that this event, strange
as it sounds, actually happened
in the middle of the night.
They say when you want an African to tell the truth, make the African swear to an indigenous divinity—not to the Bible or the Quran. Those two books are just books. The real book that they believe and consider real is not written. It is oral, and tied to the indigenous divinities.