People migrate in different ways too; there are the ones that move with credentials in hand and hope in the pocket – these ones are looking for the fabled greener pastures. Before they set out, they would have probably called a friend to beg for a spot on their couch for a few weeks
While my journalism career has taken a bit of a backseat, I would say my general writing career is still in a good place. I've been writing a lot in transit, on the bus, on the tram. Because I don’t have as much time to do so when I’m settled at home, between schoolwork and adulting tasks like having to prep my meals. But it’s okay because public transport here is conducive for that. I am not hindered by uncomfortable heat or guarded about being on my phone on an unsafe street.
Today I formally announce the publication of my book, titled: Soyinka’s Metamorphosis: Echoes from The People’s Mandate, a copy of which I have just received on arrival from the UK...
A landmark event such as this global TV adaptation of Things Fall Apart definitely commands consummate critical attention, with some critics arguing in a nativist manner that a native Igbo actor ought to play the role of Okonkwo! Well, William Shakespeare’s plays are acted all over the world by actors from every part of the universe.
...the arguments for or against Idris Elba or Chiwetel Ejiofor playing Okonkwo fail to take into account a key issue with the novel and the character of Okonkwo. When we meet Okonkwo, he was about 37 or 38 years and by the time he dies, might have been no more than 42. So, Elba and Ejiofor at 52 and 47 years respectively may well be too old to play Okonkwo
And it all seems to have come full circle. The town of Onitsha which was popular for market literature has caught the Nollywood bug. The most popular address on any movie jacket is 51 Iweka Road, Onitsha.
MohBad stamped his foot firmly in the Nigerian musical firmament with the release of his song, Ponmo, a risqué and infectious ditty featuring Naira Marley and Lil Kesh. It opens with a reference to a woman’s vagina and then trundles downhill from there. The streets loved it. The salaciousness , the lewdness and the seeming panting of rabid dogs after Ponmo which is shorthand for you-know-what.
Tam lived in his soul; wholly, for the cackle at the end of his laughter. Those who heard it knew it. He lived for the sheer joy of his work and others. Oh his work, for which he suffered, for which he tortured himself. He did not quite believe in how f-cking good he was. He sought perfection that did not exist. He discarded what others would keep and he had a great fear of success; of the opulence and attention and grief it brought.
You will write long letters home, letters that will never make it home, because if your mom ever reads them, she’ll tell you “come back home, omo mi, at least there is food in your mother’s house ”. And she will nag you until you do, even though you do want to.
The sonorous songstress Onyeka Onwenu has just passed, but my duty here...
The profundity of these presumably simple words of consolation combines effectively with his wise saying about the sun to bestow the toga of an unsung philosopher on Unoka, thus setting the stage for endless dialogue on his character.
Sad news hit me hard on Tuesday, June 25, in this year of Our Lord – my inimitable guru Tam Fiofori passed away. Tam was in his lifetime celebrated as...