Browsing the archives for the Art category.

On “Stickfighting Days”

I read the 2010 Caine Prize-winning short story yesterday. “Gore” is the first word that came to my mind afterwards.

Olufemi Terry’s Stickfighting Days is a moving story that one never forgets in a hurry for its description of raw violence among (pubescent) boys in an imaginary dump site. I’ve read a few stories of raw violence that moved me. One of them was Fola by my friend Olumide Abimbola. It is a short family story with enormous prospects that I believe should be expanded to a standard short story length. It definitely comes to mind right now, but Terry’s offering takes us deep into an isolated world free of societal interference. There is no redemption at the end, just violence, and perhaps some jungle justice that must serve as the only catharsis afforded the reader.

Benson Eluma has written a review aimed at the insularity of the lives of the characters of the story. My friend’s observations in his review take the dialogue on literary craft and responsibility of the writer to a different direction and force us to ask a different kind of question. For me however, it is the stark violence without a chance for a real redemption that puts me off the story. It is not a deficiency as far as craft is concerned. The story is very well written and I don’t think I’ll be reading it again. Read the review on Nigerianstalk. You can read the story itself here.

Ife

These were taken in Ife on the 7th of July.

I remember feeling very inspired while watching the morning rehearsals of students of dance and theatre at the Faculty of Arts from afar while waiting for my other colleagues in nearby offices. The students were rehearsing for a performance, and there was an affecting charm in the energy they displayed while moving to the rhythm of the drum beats. So early in the morning, there they were grooving into the day’s dawning promise with all their spirit. It was charming.

I wrote a poem of the experience. I hope I can still find it.

Sand in My Socks

After attending the Bookjam @ Silverbird event that had in attendance writers from many corners of the world and catching up with friends and colleagues, I was talked into a visit to the Lagos Bar Beach a few about a kilometre down the road from the Galleria. We had some fun moments riding horses, picking sea shells, writing names in the sand, catching up on old times and generally being silly at the shore of the Atlantic Ocean.

One of us the Punch journalist and author of the NLNG shortlisted novel Under the Brown Rusted Roofs. It’s the girl, although the other guy seems through these pictures to love her more than I do ;).

On the Third Mainland Bridge

Pictures from a thirty minutes walking time around the continent’s longest overhead bridge.

Obi

Obi is a very small town about thirty minutes by car from Lafia. Unlike how the name sounds, it is not an Igbo town. It is inhabited mainly by a people called the Alago. Their language is also called by the same name, and the king is called the Usuko. As small as it is, it enjoys a relatively regular supply of electricity, a good road, and a clinic where my frien, the doctor, works. The rain of two days ago flooded much of the town and overran the main bridge. A few hours later, it had subsided and life went on as usual.