This is a throwback!
What do you see?

What do you see?

Moyo: When I was 6 years old, I started attending the free primary school that the Western Nigerian government offered.
My teachers were supposed to teach me simple facts: how did additions and subtractions work? What happens when you mix oxygen and carbon dioxide? How do you speak English without committing grammatical blunders? And so on, and so forth.
He says:
He says, “I don’t like you.”
She says, “I detest you.”
My friends don’t like me,
My enemies don’t like me,
My family members don’t like me,
My neighbors don’t like me,
My dogs don’t like me,
Oladejo Okediji, a handsome gentleman who also happens to be my baba, is receiving great honors from the Obafemi Awolowo University and the South West Association of Nigerian Authors–to acknowledge his contribution to African literature, at the young age of 90.
The COVID-19 goes beyond a biological virus.
It is a total systemic collapse.
Everybody thought December 31, 1999, was the date of crisis–when all the computation programs would break down and we would have nothing to hold on to.
Folks were worried, and getting ready for 12-31-1999.
But we did not prepare for 02-20-2020.
“Come here and swear, you this adult, that you never were a troubled youth,” Iya Oyo said, when I told her the story of my friend, Gift Krani-Rijal. Her comment is a Yoruba proverb that says, “Àgbà wá búra péwe ò ṣe ọ́ rí.”
Being young is probably the most dangerous thing anybody could experience.
I studied with the Ìyàmi,
the Power Mothers who
suspend the global ball
on a single frail string,
yet it cannot snap.
After they gave me the name Ọ̀rìságbèmí Arígbábuwó, I transcend the boundaries of gender, race, time, and geography.
Here is the story of that transcendental embodiment, in its most concise form.