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ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Seven)
Rufus froze when he saw Obaseki moving towards our table. His jawline tightened. The grotesque was unmasking. I understood the meaning of that facial reaction. When a cobra flattens its head and its neck while lifting up its body off the ground to the torso level, even a baby knows what that means. We had crossed the red zone. I immediately got up and picked up the tumbler in front of him before it became a scud missile. My movement also distracted him for a moment. This was the climactic moment that had been building up for a year.
HOW TO DEVELOP A MUMUCRACY
HOW TO DEVELOP A MUMUCRACY
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.”
TABLE
I once visited a rich single lady living in a gorgeous house with the most amazing furniture.
After we ate, I felt relaxed and we started a great conversation, with expensive wine served in elegantly shaped goblets.
That was when wahala started. The expression in her eyes changed. She became slightly alarmed.
“Would you mind not placing your leg on the table?” she requested softly.
My new classroom is inside my laptop.
Today, I delivered the first two classes via my laptop to my students.
All my students, colleagues, friends and family also live inside my tiny laptop, where we shake hands, hug, and do just about anything we want. I didn’t know there was so much space inside my tiny laptop.
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?