Proposed Ban on Street Begging in Southwest Nigeria?
I love beggars
Beggars are your best friends
Everywhere you turn on the streets of southwest Nigeria,
beggars have occupied the pathways:
beggars on the floor, crawling toward you;
beggars limping;
beggars pretending to limp;
Life Begins At 65
I’m only just 64, but life begins at 65
I thank all my friends who sent me birthday wishes yesterday.
I can’t wait for the party to start when, finally, I get born one year from today.
But, it’s alright. Some people are only in their thirties, forties, fifties and early sixties. They have to wait a while to get born and start rocking.
At 65, you’ve done it all. Life has thrown all it has at you, and you have stood your ground. You can easily say, “Ẹran kí la ò jẹ rí? What edible flesh am I yet to chew?”
Iya Ngu stopped eating. She had not touched most of the food in front of her, and did not eat the two pieces of goat meat left in her plate after Professor Wangboje helped himself to the first one. She began to wash her hands.
“Madam,” I asked, “you are not eating the meat? It’s delicious goat meat.”
On my 64th birthday anniversary, I celebrate my mother, the one person most responsible for who I am today.
She does not even know the date of her birth.
But she keeps mine so close to heart.
My father, Oladejo Okediji, is the known one. He is the famous author, who wrote novels, plays, poems, and essays. When he passed last year at 90, nobody even mentioned my mother once, as they poured deserved eulogies on him.
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.
Olódùmarè is a miracle worker.
Here is a picture of the latest sculptures at the Àkòdì Òrìṣà.
The sculptures, representing a group of indigenous Ile Ife divinities including two male and two female divinities, still are works in progress.
The mighty and resplendent Iya Iroko
tree had remained rooted
to the same spot
near the Oba river
for three hundred and sixty-four seasons
watching the ways of humans
from the viewpoint of a plant
under which folks sat
Captive No More (Part VI)
17
Tanto, my grandfather’s dog
was busy harassing a lizard
when he caught the scent
of strange bodies.
He did not hear them
and he did not see them
but he could smell them
within fifty yards from him.
The rainbow is smearing
pigments on my teeth
as if being colored
is a virtue;
All it does is keep the
cops from trusting me
when I cross
the street from innocence
to dark alleys
where they play hide
Captive No More V
14
The baale of Apaara,
My great grandfather
returned on horseback
only to discover that
His favorite child was gone
swept along the rabid rapids
of the slavers’ path
into the abyss of time.
Captive No More IV
10
After my great grandmama realized
that her songs failed
To return her child to her breasts
She stopped singing
and began to dialog with herself
even when nobody listened.
She asked strange questions
and responded with strange answers.
Exactly one year ago, I made the following statement about the impending presidential election, President Buhari and the state of the Nigerian nation.
Please read on:
The presidential election in Nigeria is postponed for another week.
Who will win between Buhari and Atiku?
(In all seriousness, all other names are not on the ballot).
The question is not whether Buhari will be reelected into office as the president of Nigeria.