This is a throwback!
What do you see?

What do you see?

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY 1982 (Part Thirty-seven) “You are quite ugly too,” Mary said without a pause. “I knew you had too much palm wine today.”
“You are angry?” I asked.
“No,” she responded. “Did I sound angry? If so, I apologize.”
“I was only trying to let you understand a simple fact of life,” I explained. “Because you were unable to sexually arouse Joshua does not imply that Gina would also be unable to sexually arouse him.”
The community protested and shut down the noises of the Christian church that has been harassing us for the past one month, keeping us up all night long, making it impossible for us to catch a moment of sleep.
Who are the Yoruba people?
A mayor of the British army, Alfred Burdon Ellis, who served in West Africa for about two decades, published a book about the Yoruba people in 1894, the same year that he perished of malaria fever.
He wrote the following in the book:
“The territory now inhabited by the Yoruba tribes is bounded on the west by Dahomi, on the south-west by Porto Novo and Appa, on the south by the sea, on the east by Benin, and on the north by the Mohammedan tribes from the interior, who have within recent times conquered and
Sisi Eko, Lagos Lady Waiting for Okada
Does anybody understand the meaning of the word “Okada?”
How did the use of Uber bikes start?
The first time I saw the Okada Uber was during my NYSC at Awka in 1977.
In the whole of the southwest of Nigeria, nobody used a bike for a taxi.
We used luxurious cars for taxis in the southwest.
Why would a bunch of French neocolons sit in broad daylight and discuss strategies to come to Africa to experiment with the Coronavirus vaccines on African bodies? (Many of you have seen the viral video, I believe, of these two French humanists dialoguing about going to Africa to experiment with the Coronavirus vaccine on Africans). They can do that dialogue on television with such unimaginable confidence because they know fully well that Africans and especially their leaders have lost the necessary spiritual rigor to resist invasion and abuse.
Becoming an Olorisa is no longer an option for the African: it is the most effective form of intellectual and spiritual resistance against neocolonial aggression.
“Hold it, hold it,” Obaseki said, “here come your people.” He gestured with his nose in the direction of a couple of flickering lights in the dense darkness.
“What is going on there,” I asked?
“That’s Joshua’s spot,” Obaseki said. “He just arrived. And he has company. Most probably Gina.”
I was drunk, anyway, so I asked for one more bottle of beer.
“We are out of ready-made snails,” our attendant explained. “We can make some for you by order. But I recommend you try our ram. There is no better ram in the world than ours.”