a picture of the akodi orisa artists working at the akodi orisha

Demolition

ByMoyo Okediji

Demolition

A silent demolition is going on.

When I was about 8 years old, I walked from Akarabata Line 2 to Iremo in Ile Ife, a distance of about three miles, every morning, at dawn. I was attending a private coaching class that started at 6 am, two hours before formal classes began at 8 am.

My mother unfailingly woke me up at about 4:30 am, prayed with me, read some Bible passages, bathed me, and gave me some money to buy breakfast and lunch when I got to school later in t…

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A picture showing Moyo Okediji art piece "OKU"

We Never Die

ByMoyo Okediji

We Never Die

“Òkú is not dead,” said Iya Oyo. “In our [Yoruba] culture, we do not die.”

“How is that possible?” I asked her, astonished.

“We already defeated Ikú (Death),” Iya Oyo announced. “The defeat of Ikú is what the Odù Ifá called Ọ̀yẹ̀kú focuses on. Olójòǹgbòdú, the wife of Ikú is the great woman who accomplished the defeat of Ikú, and since then we no longer die.”

a picture showing moyo okediji sitting with his head hidden between his thighs next to his artwork

HOW MANY IGBO BOYS HAVE WE SHOT THIS MONTH?

ByMoyo Okediji

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.”

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