a picture shwoing profs art class before the Coronavirus.

My art class before the Coronavirus.

ByMoyo Okediji

My art class before the Coronavirus.

I dreamed about it last night–I was teaching, and there was this really brilliant student who did everything perfectly.

As I went to take a closer look at her work, I woke up.

What really happened was that I had fallen asleep with my music playing. And what really woke me up was Peter Tosh, singing,

“GET UP, STAND UP…!”

There is hope.

We may still have art classes the way we used to after the end of this crisis.

But if that is not possible, we’ll just eat, sleep and dream about “the good ol’ days.”

According to an old African proverb, the downfall of a MAN is not the end of his LIFE.

I think that’s an African proverb, right?

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Artist: Dotun Popoola Title: Portrait of Moyo Okediji Medium: pen and ink on paper date; 2020

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Thirteen)

ByMoyo Okediji

As Rufus exited the buka, it was clear that Obaseki was disappointed.

With Madam Ngu and Prof. Wangboje present at the dining table, the circumstances for a total mediation of the crisis were perfect.

They would have just instructed Rufus to cut it, and that would have been the end. Obaseki could not have wished for a better opportunity.

But Rufus left to start his audition with his theater students without the discussion of the crisis coming up. One thing was certain: Rufus was mad and did not hide it.

a picture showing moyo okediji standing next to his artwork

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1982 (Part Thirty-seven)

ByMoyo Okediji

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY 1982 (Part Thirty-seven) “You are quite ugly too,” Mary said without a pause. “I knew you had too much palm wine today.”

“You are angry?” I asked.

“No,” she responded. “Did I sound angry? If so, I apologize.”

“I was only trying to let you understand a simple fact of life,” I explained. “Because you were unable to sexually arouse Joshua does not imply that Gina would also be unable to sexually arouse him.”

A picture showing moyo okedijis hand holding a bowl of vegetable soup and garri

Food for Thought

ByMoyo Okediji

Food for Thought

My mates at the secondary school called me a foodie.

They served us starvation grade food in the hostels where we were warehoused, and we were always hungry.

The only grace was that there were lots of ill-fated weevils (kòkòrò) cooked with our beans providing us enough animal protein to supplement the plant protein in the beans.

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