Say My Name
Say My Name
My middle name is Benjamin.
Says a lot about me, right,
since I’m not from the Middle East.
I wasn’t born Benjamin.
It is not
It is not It’s not what we do that countsIt is what we don’t do It’s not what we eat that counts It’s what we don’t eat It’s not what we have that matters It’s what we don’t have
CONVERSATION WITH NIKE OKUNDAYE
Moyo: When I was 6 years old, I started attending the free primary school that the Western Nigerian government offered.
My teachers were supposed to teach me simple facts: how did additions and subtractions work? What happens when you mix oxygen and carbon dioxide? How do you speak English without committing grammatical blunders? And so on, and so forth.
PLUTOPHOBIA
A new word will enter the streets of Nigeria.
It is PLUTOPHOBIA: the fear of the rich.
It won’t mean, as it often does, the fear of getting rich.
It will mean the fear and loathing for those who are getting rich, while the majority of Nigerians see themselves as getting poorer by the minute.
Don’t stop.
I know you’re tired.
I know you are broke. Very broke.
I know that all your friends are making it, but things are not just working for you right now.
I know you are annoyed.
There is no fear.
There is no fear except the one we make up.
The fear we harbor is us.
On this planet, there is nothing to lose.
Some of the artists
These are some of the artists at the Akodi Orisa, Ile Ife, Nigeria, taking a minute off for a photoshoot. They paint, sculpt, do installation works, perform and design in several mediums.
They are a garrison of creative spirits, using art to express the joy and struggles of being Nigerian.
They are awe-inspiring pioneers.
When you walk
When you walk, you are telling the story of your life with your body language. The way you move your feet tells others who you are if they pay attention to you as you place one foot in front of the other. I did not realize this reality until after my accident, after I could no longer walk on my own two legs, without the use of crutches.
Farewell to Nigeria.
Farewell to Nigeria.
It’s been 3.5 months since I’ve been here.
Every day was a wonderful experience.
I’m now at the airport, on my way out.
Potter
Potter:
What wants you from us,
One legged man?
Me: I’m here to study with you
the ancient art of terra-cotta.
Potter:
You, a university professor,
Coming to us to study,
We humble peasants and illiterates?
When a man is talking.
“When a man is talking, the woman must shut up,” the young bricklayer was yelling. His colleague confirmed, “Yes, this is man to man talk. You need to keep quiet and let us settle this matter.”
My jaw was hanging in disbelief. I’ve been away too long from Nigeria. Nobody spoke to and about women like this when I was growing up. Now these young men drooling blasphemous vomit, where did they drop from? Am I hearing these statements, or am I dreaming? Is it just my imagination, or what?
The carpenter is singing as he does the roof:
The carpenter is singing as he does the roof:
Ẹ̀yin tẹ́ ń lóyún lé rodo-ríndín, hẹn-ẹn
Bọ́mọ bá yàgbẹ́ o
Baba rẹ̀ ní ó ko.
Translation:
You who conceive while your infants are mere suckling babies
When your infants mess their pants
Their daddies will change their diapers.