What the MoMA Did To My Momma Series #1
Moyo Okediji
Title: What the MoMA Did To My Momma Series #1
Medium: Collage
Date: April 2018
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II
II The doctor is Seyi Ogunjobi, an artist in residence at the Obafemi Awolowo University’s Center for Cultural Studies. He has been assisting me to build the ÀKÒDÌ ÒRÌṢÀ. At the exact time the police was storming the construction site of the ÀKÒDÌ ÒRÌṢÀ, Ogunjobi, a Leeds doctorate in creative arts, was moderating a discussion in the lecture theater of the Center for Cultural Studies, at the Obafemi Awolowo University campus. Part of the seminar series of the center where Ogunjobi works, his duties include hosting the seminar series, at which invited guests presents on a regular basis. Yesterday, Ogunjobi was moderating a seminar that I presented, titled, “Invisible Canvas: Painting as Performance in Ile Ife.”
STAGE FOUR
The Covid 19 era will usher in the fourth stage of the colonization of Africa.
It will be the stigmatization stage.
Pfizer just announced the discovery of a vaccine for the pandemic.
Other pharmaceutical companies will soon follow suit.
They will distribute these vaccines throughout the world.
But you already know the continent they will forget to send the vaccine to.
AFRICA.
19 years
I was 19 years old in 1975 and an undergraduate studying painting at the University of Ife when my friend, Augusta Akusu-Ossai, took this picture of me.
The attire I’m wearing in the picture is typical of what I always wore in those days: a long adire (batik) top that I designed and sewed myself, and the baggy pants of that era.
OSUMARE: RAINBOW GALLERY
OSUMARE: RAINBOW GALLERY
At the Akodi Orisa Sanctuary, Ile Ife, we have just completed the Rainbow (Osumare) Gallery.
The Rainbow is the mixture of fire and water blazing with luminous intensity across the middle belt of the sky, affirming the unity of all colors, all peoples, all races, all tongues, all hands and heads, committed to the principle of creativity.
SOMEBODY PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME
I have traveled to New York, Los Angeles, Berlin, London, Toronto, Sofia, Beijing, Paris, Athens, Rome, Tokyo and Kyoto.
I have been to several other cities of the West and the East.
Let me bring you something I observed from my travels:
The natives of these places don’t speak Yoruba, Igbo, Hausa, Twi, Zulu or any language form Africa.
The Hausa did not name us Yorùbá.
The Hausa did not name us Yorùbá.
The Hausa cannot even pronounce Yorùbá.
They say they pejoratively called us Yarubawa and we creatively changed it to Yorùbá. Rárá o. It’s the other way round.
We call ourselves Yorùbá and they pejoratively call us Yarubawa.
To be able to pronounce Yorùba correctly, you must understand the nuances of our triptych intonation.