a picture showing Araba Elebuibon

ReDoMi

ByMoyo Okediji

Life is simple yet complicated in the ReDoMi civilization.

How do you say ReDoMi?

The vowels and consonants of the RedoMi people are so simple that all you have to do is open or close your lips to pronounce their words.

The consonants are especially straightforward. They contain no strong or forces sounds, not even a threatening hiss of the ZZZZ is allowed. That is too much of a snake strike for a people of the infinite dimension. Only the gentle “s” and “sh” are allowed into this linguistic tone.

a post showing Moyo OKediji art piece

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twenty-Nine)

ByMoyo Okediji

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.

a picture showing moyo okediji poised for the camera

Post-Naija Flip-Flop

ByMoyo Okediji

Post-Naija Flip-Flop

We are now in a Post-Covid Era.

It doesn’t mean that the Covid is over. It simply means that our lives have witnessed the ravage of this virus, and we are still here to talk about it.

Can we say we are in a Post-Naija era?

It doesn’t mean that there is no Nigeria any longer. It simply means that we have witnessed the ravage of this virus and we are still here to talk about it.

apicture of moyo okediji holding a book titled THE RAFTERS BURDEN (AJA LO LERU)

THE RAFTER’S BURDEN—the English translation of Oladejo Okediji’s AJA LO LERU

ByMoyo Okediji

THE RAFTER’S BURDEN—the English translation of Oladejo Okediji’s AJA LO LERU is out

Three days before his transition, my father, the Yoruba writer Oladejo Okediji, had only one worry: “Akanbi,” he told me, “make sure you work with Sola Owonibi to get Aja Lo Leru translated and published.”

I was suspicious. “We are already working on it,” I said. “You are worried we won’t do a good job?” It was another hint he gave me about his impending departure during that last call. And I did not miss it.

“I’m just saying,” Baba said with a dismissive laugh. “I would love to read a good translation of the novel.”

a picture showing moyo okediji poised for the camera and behind him is one of his art piece

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twenty-Seven)

ByMoyo Okediji

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twenty-Seven)

“So whose panties are those?” Adolo asked, pointing at something.

She had just finished wiping down my feverish body. She sat on the chair. Felicia sat on the table and Steve stood, holding on to the open door of the wardrobe.

I didn’t know what Adolo was referring to.

“What panties?” I asked.

“These ones,” She said.

Steve looked in her direction, and answered, “Gina’s”

I was weary and in a dreamlike state. The fan whirling above was noisy, and as it blew the air on my wet body, I felt bone-rattling shivering spells.

I really wanted to cover my body with the blanket.

“She must have left them there when she was here,” Steve said.

“Gina?” Adolo asked. “Who is Gina?”

“Guess you may say Moyo’s new girl,” Steve said.

“Moyo? He has a new girlfriend?” Adolo asked.

Why Yoruba People Are Suffering Today.

Why Yoruba People Are Suffering Today.

ByMoyo Okediji

In 1999, I boarded a plane from New York to Syracuse. It was in December, and the weather was freezing cold. I was happy that the weather forecast indicated it was not going to snow, though I knew that the temperature in Syracuse was going to be well below zero, even colder than the weather in New York where I boarded the plane.

I was going to the University of Syracuse for a job interview. The advertised job was going to almost double my salary, if I got it.

a picture showing moyo okediji poised for the camera

They have discovered that they gain nothing from being part of Nigeria.

ByMoyo Okediji

The Yoruba people are agitating to be free from Nigeria.

They have discovered that they gain nothing from being part of Nigeria, but they lose a lot by remaining in Nigeria.

I ask, “Why do they want to move away from Nigeria?”

They say they are concerned that northerners are invading their villages, abducting their women and children, polluting their rivers with illegal mining, driving cattle through their farmlands—and making legislation (with the assistance of the few Omo Aale among them), to strip their lands to build the north.

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part twenty-Six)

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part twenty-Six)

ByMoyo Okediji

“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.”

a post showing Moyo OKediji art piece

Hahahaha! Look at his Johnny Walker!

ByMoyo Okediji

Yesterday I made this funny painting. Hahahaha! Look at his Johnny Walker!

I sampled the painting from a wood panel sculptured by Dada Arowoogun, a Yoruba artist whose work narrates Yoruba life during the 19th century.

The work is relevant because Yoruba people are still doing what we used to call “two-fighting.” In our primary school days, when the teacher forbade speaking in vernacular, and all the English we knew were three words: “Two fighting” were two crucial words of the three.

a picture showing moyo okediji granddaughter

The Hausa did not name us Yorùbá.

ByMoyo Okediji

The Hausa did not name us Yorùbá.

The Hausa cannot even pronounce Yorùbá.

They say they pejoratively called us Yarubawa and we creatively changed it to Yorùbá. Rárá o. It’s the other way round.

We call ourselves Yorùbá and they pejoratively call us Yarubawa.

To be able to pronounce Yorùba correctly, you must understand the nuances of our triptych intonation.