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.
CAMPUS TALES
She said, “I’m certain I’m not a C grade material,” she complained to me. “During my School certificate exam, I scored A grades in most of my courses, and was admitted to the university. Once there, I attended all the lectures, studied really hard and was always ready for the exams. But then, whenever I got my scripts back, I always scored a C grade. I became curious and confused because my friends who did not study, partied throughout the semester and paid no attention to classes, always scored A and B+ grades.”
At the airport and, incredibly, within this period, I gave birth to the ÀKÒDÌ ÒRÌṢÀ, the building in the background of this picture.
I ran into one of my childhood friends in Ile Ife two years ago. He is now a university professor.
We decided to go and get a drink and as we started drinking, we discussed the pleasures of living together in the same house as children for many years.
We all lived together as one family in that house.
He was the son of Baba Alhaji, the landlord.
Madam Ngu finally cornered me in the buka.
If I had any inkling she was coming to that buka that fateful day, I would rather have starved than be found dead there. She had been looking for me for weeks. And I had been evading her. I was trying to break free of her influence and she was trying her very best to ensure that she stamped herself into my art, my being, my style of creating, and my idioms of expression. She had studied at the Royal College in London and was trying to make me a master draughtsman who painted in the European fashion. And I was a radical looking for a way to break out of the western mold of painting.
Weather is turning cold.
Really chilly and rainy
Time to look for those warm things, and drink tea laced with honey. Or whatever.
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.