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Funso Aiyejina

Funso Aiyejina. Born 1949. Gurara Falls. Baobab tree. Lagos. Amos Tutuola. Born 1920. Chinua Achebe. Born 1930. Flora Nwapa. 1931-1993. Christopher Okigbo. Born 1932. Wole Soyinka. Born 1935. Ken Saro-Wiwa. 1941-1995. Buchi Emecheta. Born 1944. Ben Okri. Born 1959.

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Funso Aiyejina

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  1. Funso Aiyejina Born 1949

  2. Gurara Falls

  3. Baobab tree

  4. Lagos

  5. Amos Tutuola Born 1920

  6. Chinua Achebe Born 1930

  7. Flora Nwapa 1931-1993

  8. Christopher Okigbo Born 1932

  9. Wole Soyinka Born 1935

  10. Ken Saro-Wiwa 1941-1995

  11. Buchi Emecheta Born 1944

  12. Ben Okri Born 1959

  13. Babatunde OlatunjeEbenezer ObeyKing Sunny AdeFela Kuti

  14. Sokari Douglas Camp

  15. Iriabo Woman

  16. BirdMasquerade

  17. HippoMasquerade

  18. Pablo Picasso Les Demoiselles d’Avignon

  19. BigMasquerade

  20. FlyingFish withBubbles

  21. To Abuehnameh at FourNo, son, I was not going to the hospital to my brother.He died. Yes. He did.Not as in games about doctors and patients which you now playWith your brotherSince your encounters with the surgeon's art earlier in the year.He died:In spite of the doctors: in spite of the nurses: in spite of hope.He died on the last day of April::April::the cruellest month!But we are now safely into May::May::the month of your birth!And after our sad loss at the end of April's showersLet us welcome back your day of mirthInto the month on whose wet wings of flowersYou danced triumphant into our expectant world.Child of the ministering rains of the month of MayAnd of green branches garnished with bird-songs of love,Long may you survive the cruel April of the poet's calendar.

  22. No, son, I was not going to the hospital to my brother. He died in April. For real. The doctors couldn’t save him. But now it’s May, the month of your birth! Let’s celebrate your birthday instead of mourning! May you live through many terrible Aprils to beautiful Mays!

  23. No, son, I had not gone to see my brother.‘Twas April when the illness took his life.But now that month has turned into another,A month of joy for me and for my wife.Forget about the sorrow that can hound us,And think of how your birthday comes today.Let happiness and pleasure now surround us,As melancholy April turns to May!

  24. Allusion

  25. Whan that Aprille with his shoures sooteThe droghte of March hath perced to the roote,And bathed every veyne in swich licour,Of which vertu engendred is the flour Geoffrey Chaucer opening of The Canterbury Tales

  26. April is the cruelest month, breedingLilacs out of the dead land, mixingMemory and desire, stirringDull roots with spring rain. T.S. Eliot opening of The Waste Land

  27. Trinidad

  28. A View of the Caribbean and Its Memoriesof Our Not-so-Recent Collective Past(To Helen, whose gift of a picture of a West Indian harbourmade it possible)

  29. History-stretched between forgotten ancestors and cussing new world cousins, I pause to count our combined sins of blood and our collective crimes of eternities by the wavelashes that shatter the calm of the mirror-surface of your sun-framed fortunes and I contemplate your holiday resorts into mosaics of silhouette slave ships that sit safe in protected harbours to await the arrival of auctioneers and cheap labour merchants shadows that cast shadows to map out your white sea breakers into the mast-sails that once floated ships which were pregnant with our ancestral limbs,

  30. luminous dusk-glow that stays the mind on the last constants of primordial nightmares and details that accentuate details to whip our past awake into our present pains. Still, like the sea that now gives you a home and a name, I wonder if the tidal waves of your brave new world have whirled you beyond the bedrock of your sea and washed you past the memorial beacons of those ancient dreams that predators from within and without our ranks conspired to discredit and freeze into museum pieces.

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