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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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.
***Reader’s Note:
I was informed that I should complete the ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY series before moving on to the next series, THE RETURN.
I will therefore return to the ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, and continue with Part Thirty-six. To refresh the memory of our readers, I have placed parts Thirty-five and Thirty-four at the end of Part Thirty-six.
My phone rings and, recognizing the name of the caller, I pick up the call. It is the wife of a friend living in Nigeria. I say the usual, “Hello,” but there is no response. There is a faint conversation in the background. She is discussing with her friend.
The construction process at the Àkòdì Òrìṣà proceeds with the building of Ìwòrì-Òdí, an architectural monumentality of the third and fourth programs of the Ifa computer.
Arresting house. The house, because it is so arresting, led to my arrest as its owner and builder. They came to arrest the house—not just the architect.
The house is the culprit. They came to place it behind bars. They had no problems with setting the designers and builders free as long as they are able to lock away the arresting building.
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
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.