This is a throwback!
What do you see?
Similar Posts
It is five years already when I did this solo.
It is five years already when I did this solo.
The soil is the medium–not a single drop of synthetic paint in my work: I produce every color with carefully collected soils.
My new classroom is inside my laptop.
Today, I delivered the first two classes via my laptop to my students.
All my students, colleagues, friends and family also live inside my tiny laptop, where we shake hands, hug, and do just about anything we want. I didn’t know there was so much space inside my tiny laptop.
Oladejo Okediji
Oladejo Okediji–who happens to be my father, is the oldest living writer in the Yoruba language.
He is 89 this year.
He is pictured here with the cover of his first novel, Àjà Ló Lẹrù, published in 1969.
Baba is still pretty prolific. His latest book, Ohùn Ẹnu Àgbà, came out this year. It is a collection of his poems.
Which organization is yours?
Me: Which organization is yours?
We have been stopped and checked by at least four different organizations, with different uniforms, since we left home and started our trip to Ondo some 30 minutes ago. But your uniform is different from those worn by the other organizations that stopped us.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Thirty-One)
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Thirty-One)
Gina did not look glad or relaxed. I could read it in her posture, without even getting close to her.
Rufus said, “Moyo, Gina is back!”
Steve hardly allowed the bus to stop properly before jumping down to run and hug her.
“Is that her?” Adolo asked Felicia rather softly.
“Yes,” Felicia responded. “That’s her.”
I got down slowly, and took my time locking up the door. Then I went to Gina. She looked down and didn’t meet my eyes. I thought, “She must be mad because she didn’t see us at her father’s funeral.”
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twenty-Nine)
Some fire seemed out of Papa Ru as he sat, something which would be clear to someone who knew him well, and might not be noticed by others.
I saw the difference in the grey dim to his eyes. It was less in the bow that formed around his shoulders as he leaned forward on the table, under which Obaseki was hiding. But Rufus was hardly aware of his own body yet. It was the first time he left his room since we carried him there the moment we arrived from burial. He seemed to have a hard time just keeping his face from falling off his head. As if to ensure that did not happen, he pressed his chin into his palm, his elbow resting firmly on the table for support, seemingly carrying the entire weight of his torso.
