The Man.
The Man.
I was going through a bunch of old drawings and happened upon this 2016 drawing I did during the summer.
It is The Man.
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IS YORUBA CULTURE POLYGAMOUS?
The secondary school rusticated me for being part of a riot that the students organized and carried out with meticulous sagacity.
Flabbergasted, I traveled to Ile Ife where we lived, from Oyo, where I schooled.
My father was amused that they rusticated me.
“Did you really participate in the riot?” my father asked.
“I did not,” I answered.
THE PAID OFFICERS BOAST…
THE PAID OFFICERS BOAST THEY DID THE KILLING, MAIMING AND DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTIES
To those who obey orders to kill and maim:
To those whose salaries, allowances and food are from the business of death:
Let nobody convince you that you could kill another HUMAN, and remain alive and well.
Let nobody persuade you that killing and maiming people is a legitimate job.
HOW MUCH? Èrò Ni Ọkọ Dídó
HOW MUCH? Èrò Ni Ọkọ Dídó
Check the naira amount in your pocket or the bottom line in your bank account.
Has that transfer gone through?
But what does a fellow do with money that rapidly gets useless?
What do you do when a piece of paper loses its promisedvalue?
It still says One thousand Naira, but it only buys One hundred Naira worth of garri.
In the year 2019 when I left Nigeria, I brought with me some naira currency notes, stacked in one-thousand denominations.
Nightfall.
Nightfall.
Ile Ife.
For many years after arriving in the US, whenever I slept, I would dream of Ile Ife, where I grew up.
Road rage
“Oloriburuku! Were! Olosi! Alakori!” Road rage yelling coming from all angles.
I am covered in sweat as I sit patiently behind the wheel.
The AC of my truck has broken down. And the automatic window winder is not working. But my sweat glands are working.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1982 (Part 38)
“Wole Soyinka wants to have a word with Rufus. Tell him to come as soon as possible. Kongi travels out of the country next week,” was the simple message that I got back from Kole Omotosho.
Omotosho was the head of the Dramatic Art Department, University of Ife. He sent a driver to me to collect a manuscript, “Marx and Mask,” written by the brilliant Ghanaian writer, Ayi Kwei Armah.
Soyinka regularly received manuscripts from several writers, and after making copies, he would distribute the manuscripts among his circle of intellectuals who met at least once a week to read and discuss the manuscripts.