Art Historian, Artist, and Curator

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981, (PART TWO)

ByMoyo Okediji July 8, 2020May 21, 2023

Rufus was in a murderous mood. Steve, the one who Obaseki pummeled, became worried when Rufus went into his room. “What’s he gone to do in his room?” I asked Steve, whose only interest at that moment was diving into the fried rice we just brought for him.

Steve said, “He’s gone to change into his shorts. Looks like he’s really upset. He is changing into loose clothes to take out that guy who attacked me.”

“Na shakara,” I told Steve.

“What?” Steve asked.

a picture showing moyo okediji poised for the camera

Short Stories

ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981

ByMoyo Okediji July 6, 2020May 21, 2023

As soon as we drove to the front of the house, we knew something was wrong. There was a crowd of nearly twenty people waiting for us.

“Mr. Rufus, good thing you are back,” said a neighbor stepping forward from the crowd. “Nobody knows what the problem was, but we had to break down the door to your house….”

Before he could complete his story, Josephine, ran to the Mitsubishi bus, breathless, “Papa Ru. That your friend almost killed Steve! I ran out to call the neighbors, but when I went out, he jammed the door. They had to force the lock to free Steve from him!”

Short Stories

The Day We Went to Steal Yams in Benin City

ByMoyo Okediji July 4, 2020May 21, 2023

1980: One Friday, Rufus told me that we should visit the messenger of the University of Benin, Department of Creative Art, whose wife just gave birth to twins, both boys.

I told him that we needed to go to the bank to withdraw some money. I kept the purse for both of us. We were out of cash, and it was the end of the week. But Rufus said we would go to the bank later.

Short Stories

POLICE CHECKPOINT, BENIN CITY

ByMoyo Okediji July 1, 2020May 21, 2023

It was in 1980, in Nigeria, when this police encounter occurred.

I will start by swearing

in the name of Ogun

that this event, strange

as it sounds, actually happened

in the middle of the night.

They say when you want an African to tell the truth, make the African swear to an indigenous divinity—not to the Bible or the Quran. Those two books are just books. The real book that they believe and consider real is not written. It is oral, and tied to the indigenous divinities.