This is a throwback!
What do you see?

What do you see?

I just gave a talk titled “Performing African Art: Image, Motion, Text.”
Picture shows I talk a lot with my hands (funny). Lecturing also becomes a performance art, entailing images, motion and texts.
I laff so-tay las’ night my head fall commot my neck.
And I’m not making up this story.
My Chinese friend called me and said her friend, Tunde, who lives in Canada, wanted me to tell her the meaning of “Cat” in Yoruba.
“Why didn’t Tunde just tell you what ‘cat’ means in Yoruba himself?” I asked surprised.
When a sheep keeps the company of the dog, it learns to eat feces.
Western Nigeria was not like this when we were growing up.
William Shakespeare, KING CHARLES III, Act 1, Scene 1 (#4) EGUNGUN: How, oh king, would you…
Ibeji: Soul Mates
“Iya Oyo,” I asked, “why call her Ọmọ Méji? Ọmọ Méji means two children but she is just one person.”
This was after a woman who looked like she was in her thirties, who was on her way to an errand, stopped by Iya Oyo’s house to greet her.
Iya Oyo looked at me with surprise, as if to say my mother should have given me such basic cultural education.
When Steve offered us a cigarette, I took one out of the pack he extended.
It was from one of the packs he brought from Britain a couple of months earlier.
I was not good with cigarettes. But I was also not good at saying no to cigarette offers. All my friends smoked. And I loved to hold a stick of cigarette stylishly and watch the smoke rise from the tip of the ashes.
We sat there in the dark, watching the moon, smoking, silent. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning crashed across the sky, followed by a ripping sound of thunder. Instantly, the moon and the stars disappeared, and the sky was an endless black canvas coughing out intermittent flashes of jagged lights filled with throbs of thunder.