Yesterday I took a break from work, and for the first time since the Covid outbreak in 2019, ventured out.
With Adetola Wewe, my friend visiting from Nigeria, I went on a boat ride.
Africans living in voluntary and compelled exile:
Do we deserve the “comfort” of exile, if we are only concerned about the comfort of our immediate families?
We all realize that a country like Nigeria has become a lion’s den, and many of the citizens feel trapped inside it.
We realize that many of us escaped with nothing in our pockets. I left with only $98 in my pocket in 1992.
A friend, who is also a devout, church-going Christian just talked with me a few minutes ago. He called from Nigeria.
“What is wrong with these kids?” he asked me. “Why can’t they protest peacefully? What has their quarrel against police brutality got to do with burning down buildings, and looting stores? They are criminals. They are worse than the politicians they are criticizing. If you place them in positions of power, they would do worse.”
I didn’t respond. After all, I didn’t call him. He called. He must have something really important to say to have spent his money calling me.
Irú Pepper Soup (a Christmas delicacy?)
It warms me up in this bitter cold.
And the guy at the African store, in his singsong Nigerian accent just like mine, assured me that it is good for my eyes. “You may not need that ya glasses again.”
Farewell to Nigeria.
It’s been 3.5 months since I’ve been here.
Every day was a wonderful experience.
I’m now at the airport, on my way out.
ÈRE My mom transitioned today and she is now an ancestor.She drew her last human breath today, this morning.My baby sister, Banke, informed me, “Maami left at 3:53 pm.”I knew she was departing. I was ready for it.
CAN’T KANT COUNT?
My Egungun is dancing as we speak in an exhibition at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, as part of an installation titled “Whirling Return of the Ancestors.”