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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Evening.
Evening.
The sun is setting.
The night is falling in Ile Ife.
For many years after I arrived in the United States, whenever I slept, I would dream of Ile Ife.
On my way to the Murtala Muhammed Airport.
On my way to the Murtala Muhammed Airport.
Checking out, US bound.
We will find out what happens in Nigeria after elections this Saturday.
Nor be me dabaru 9ja
There’s nobody who will see this place and not be afraid
“There’s nobody who will see this place and not be afraid,” the two men on the bike said this morning as they stopped and kept looking at our newest installation at the Àkòdì Òrìṣà.
Bí ìwọ́ bá ṣe rere, ara kì yíò ha yá ọ? I wonder where I got that quote from. Is it a Yoruba proverb?
I wouldn’t be surprised if it was from the Bible.
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.
HATE AND LOVE ARE BROTHER AND SISTER
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.
At the airport
At the airport and, incredibly, within this period, I gave birth to the ÀKÒDÌ ÒRÌṢÀ, the building in the background of this picture.