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.
Àwọn Yèyélórìṣà, Akirè Shrine Ilé Ifẹ̀, 2003.
After I took this picture in 2003, I returned to find the group in 2017.
But for the two women at the extreme left, all the others had transitioned.
Everything had disappeared.
There was nothing left. Absolutely nothing. Zit.
But the Irunmoles have a way of ensuring that we don’t lose everything, even though we might be careless as humans.
HOT NEWS: Time to go get Gbékúdè
My friend sent me this note:
“I got back safely, however, I got back in pieces, as parts of me did not come back.
I took a taxi to a park in Abuja [Nigeria] and along the way was robbed of my Laptop, phone, power bank and earpiece.
Does anyone know where to get aásà? My grandma, her soul is resting in peace, She…
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
If you got up early enough, you would catch Anti Toyosi bathing at the back of the Face-Me-I-Face-You building in which I grew up in Ile Ife. Her husband, a sign-writer, would still be fast asleep.
But Anti Toyosi always got up early to prepare rice that she sold to school students as breakfast before they went to school.
“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.