da block
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.
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.
Tam Fiofori, who hailed from Okrika was born in 1942 and would go on to distinguish himself as a polymath; photographer, writer, journalist, artist manager and raconteur who could hold you spell bound for hours with riveting tales of escapades and encounters around the world.
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