Evening.
Evening.
The sun is setting.
The night is falling in Ile Ife.
For many years after I arrived in the United States, whenever I slept, I would dream of Ile Ife.
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My friend in Nigeria said she is starting poultry.
She said she would just buy a couple of hens, feed them, and daily she would collect eggs from them and eat them.
“Impossible,” I said. “The hens would attack you and poke out your eyes.”
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My phone rings and, recognizing the name of the caller, I pick up the call. It is the wife of a friend living in Nigeria. I say the usual, “Hello,” but there is no response. There is a faint conversation in the background. She is discussing with her friend.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1982: (Part Thirty-Six)
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I was informed that I should complete the ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY series before moving on to the next series, THE RETURN.
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MY GOD IS STRONGER THAN YOURS
If you got up early enough, you would catch Anti Toyosi bathing at the back of the Face-Me-I-Face-You building in which I grew up in Ile Ife. Her husband, a sign-writer, would still be fast asleep.
But Anti Toyosi always got up early to prepare rice that she sold to school students as breakfast before they went to school.