The stuffs in my office
The stuff in my office needs organizing. One day I’ll get to it. One of these days when I have nothing to do.
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My anti-coronavirus Esu.
My anti-coronavirus Esu.I produced this Esu object and hung it in front of my door. My house is marked safe.When their Agent of Death is passing by, it sees the Esu object.Esu, the gatekeeper, informs the Agent of Death that “He doesn’t live here. He lives on the other street.”
THE PARABLE OF THE TOO BIG TO FALL
When young women went to the river to fetch water, they would disappear.
The king’s royal beads even went missing.
People were worried. One of the wise men said, “Let’s approach Ọlọ́run to give us a police boss.”
But who could they trust? One of them must be the thief.
They decided unanimously that the only trustworthy person in the entire community was Ijapa.
Ijapa gave them only one condition: “Nobody should visit my house without letting me know in advance that they were coming.”
TEETHING TROUBLES
“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.
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twenty-four)
The burial ceremony was brief.
There were many more people than I expected. It was the first burial ceremony I ever attended in my entire life. Scores of nurses from the school of nursing were in attendance. All of them wore dark glasses and white uniforms. They looked like angels. I didn’t know many men were in the nursing profession. They stood together in the blazing son, men and women, some wiping their faces with handkerchief, others lifting up their glasses and dabbing up tears.
HOW MANY IGBO BOYS HAVE WE SHOT THIS MONTH?
Can someone help me to translate this into as many Nigerian languages as possible, please?Many of the boys I played soccer with in Ile Ife on bare rough grounds in-between houses, using oranges and rags tied together to form balls, all the way from infancy to age ten, were Igbo kids.In 1965, they told me they were leaving, returning home.“When are you coming back?”“Papa says we are not coming back.”
My mumu is too much.
My mumu is too much.
Hear my story o.
They just fixed the electricity at my place in Nigeria.
To get it fixed, I bought four poles, and hundreds of yards of cable.
I contributed hundreds of thousands of naira to get the transformer.
I bought the meter.
And paid to have the entire thing installed.
But I understand that none of these things that I bought belongs to me.
They all belong to the government.
