The Odo Ogbe market
I went to the Odo Ogbe market, Ile Ife.
The market women went, “Oyinbo, come give us a hug.”
This world is beautiful.
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Lyrics of Joy
Title: Lyrics of Joy
Medium: acrylic on canvas
Date: 2018
Where art you joy
that we all seek you
and find you not?
Joy is in eating less,
and eating carefully, simply.
Joy lives in giving more,
and consuming little.
It saddens me.
It saddens me.
It saddens me a lot that the southern people are not able to understand the urgency of the situation they are involved in.
Those you call the Fulani herdsmen, or the Fulani people—they are the Taliban.
Please read the last line again.
Those you call Fulani herdsmen are the Taliban.
HOMESICK
In 2001, homesick, I returned to Nigeria after staying away for nine years in the US.
My destination was Ife, and I lodged in a hotel in Lagos for the first week. I used the hotel rental car, with a hired driver, to run errands. One day, the rental car driver who drove me around Lagos, said “Prof, why not just buy a car instead of spending all your money on car hires? Don’t you plan to stay in Nigeria for a couple of months? It’s best for you to get a fairly used car.”
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part twenty-Six)
“I just discovered a river!” Steve announced, breathless, as he ran into the sitting room with enthusiasm. “And it’s just fifteen minutes from here.”
I said, “Mungo Park.”
Rufus, spreading out on the sofa, said, “Where is it?”
“Hidden in plain sight!” Steve said. “I was driving down Ekenwan Street, and there was this dirt road by the side. I decided to explore it.”
“What’s the name of the street?” I asked.
“No signboard,” Steve said.
“There is no Benin street without a signboard,” Rufus said. “Benin people are good with signboards. Even narrow paths have signboards.”
TO SWAT OR NOT TO SWAT
TO SWAT OR NOT TO SWAT
The Odu Ọ̀YẸ̀KÚ Ọ̀KÀNRÀN appears for #ENDSWAT.
Listen:
It was the lopsided Òro pear
Who cast Ifa divination for Amomo,
Who at dawn proceeded to the farm;
They warned him
To be spiritually mindful
And offer sacrifices
To prevent unforeseen circumstances
That could lead to his sudden death
INTERNATIONAL REVIEW OF AFRICAN AMERICAN ART.
I am pleased to announce the publication of an essay that I wrote in 2004–sixteen years later.
The journal is the INTERNATIONAL REVIEW OF AFRICAN AMERICAN ART.
The essay, on the work of Bing Davis, is titled “Flying Back Home.” I describe Mr. Davis as an “Afronaut.”
I did not use the term “Afrofuturism,” because that term was not even in theoretical usage at that time.