Where is your book?
Where is your book?
In a lock-down world
in which information production
and dissemination has changed.
I use the books to build a wall
to distance me socially because
The library as we knew it
has become a museum.
Hey, world out there
Hey, world out there
I hunker down here
and hail you, dear friend,
for we now live in the world
of virtual friends
but you can’t hug anymore.
We live in a new world.
It’s good.
It’s good.
Nature is healing.
Life is in becoming.
Time is resetting
The rhythm of time
Captive No More part VIII
Tanto, my grandfather’s dog,
shook the rain off his furs
as vigorously as he could
being a dog who hated water
and always tried to escape
whenever Iya, my great grandma
made any move whatsoever
to give him his weekly scrub.
He could easily tell it was his bath time
as soon as grandma brought out a large pot
filled to the brim with water
together with a sponge and black soap
placing the bathing things
Proposed Ban on Street Begging in Southwest Nigeria?
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
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?”
ENGLISHMAN IN BENIN CITY, 1981 (Part Twelve)
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.”
Today, On My 64th Birthday Anniversary
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.
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.
Olódùmarè is a miracle worker.
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.
Captive No More (Part VII)
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)
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.