Glissade

I find succor in my reflection on Murtala’s face. Why can’t I confide in it? Is it not family now?

“May God answer our prayers. ”I ask what she is here for.“ I want my son to get a visa to go to London. He has been rejected ten times now.”

Familiar slogans clog social media pipelines. The red river swells with braids undone.

Enjoy the kisses too. I had thought that a man who swore by bushmeat would use too much teeth. No. Your head will reel when he tilts your face…

Taiwo Hassan, Ogogo, was singer, poet, and boxer. His anchoring of the chants at Ogunde’s funeral was a passing of the torch from the father of Nigerian theatre to the next generation.

  He brought an honesty to work deemed unskilled and menial. A self-respect that towered over the egos of overlords occupying fancy positions, in a hierarchy of thanklessness. He had to work. As a younger man, he preferred the solitary jobs that kept him away from the world for days and weeks. Sometimes it got …

ISSUES

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