How I celebrated Cap’n Blood’s Birthday with Him

Ballpoint-pen portrait of Wole Soyinka

Yesterday, as I was making octopus pepper soup, I decided to have a sip of seaweed kinkana, a mild alcoholic spirit. Paramole had given me the recipe to make the still when he returned from the Great Gangway. The Davy Jones Locker rendezvous was quiet, cold and sterile as usual but also inspirational and unencumbering. I must emphasise I love the place; it is my kind of place; it is my home now. I only use my submarine to come onshore these days, which is not often.
My unfailing experience was, an hour before a Forgone Terrors arrives at the Davy Jones Locker rendezvous, the Entrance would turn deep indigo or even purple. It is a signal for me to get ready to Mascot a Forgone Terror to the Great Gangway in any manner I choose. Now, for the first time in my experience, the Entrance turned blood red. It was a signal that an unauthorised person was arriving. I had never seen this happen and wondered who would appear at the Entrance. Was it the Devil himself, Sir Francis Drake, Vasco Da Gama, Black Beard, William Kidd, Calico Jack or the god, Poseidon? I knew it had to be a man by the laws of natures. The pepper soup was ready and scenting fine, and what a meal! No more sips.

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What Has Conservative Ideology Got to Do with Covid-19?

Ideology can be such a blinding and narrow-minded state of mind, individually or collectively. Accurate history informs us that plagues and pandemics have devastated the world several times and for millennia, long before socialism and capitalism came into existence and the human race is still here. But not because of the excessive passions that drive ideology. My conservative friends of Nigerian origin seem to think otherwise. Continue reading

The Tooth of a Toad [Ako re’Oghwokpo]

There is an old African tale in former times used as a universal allegory. There was once a flourishing pond with an environ full of animals and provided enough for all their needs. Strife was minimal. A Monitor Lizard in the pond had a big reputation for perpetrating wickedness, slander and treachery against other animals that inhabited the environs of the pond. The pain of others was his chief daily joy. His stripes, complexion, eyes and movements made him look both alien and wretched – perhaps the source of his deformed personality. Lying by raising reasonable doubt or obfuscating facts was the essential deception he used to harm and ruin others for no good reason at all. He also had gotten many animals severely punished and banished from the pond despite their innocence. Above all, he was a master flatterer who could easily get former victims to support him and his many schemes. Alas, the animals that lived by the pond accepted the Monitor Lizard’s evil ways as inevitable possibly because they dreaded him. Then a day of reckoning emerged.

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Is My Name Okolo Too?

In the Summer of 2015, I met and briefly befriended an interesting and pretty British-Nigerian lady in London for a couple of months. She was a focused intellectual type and an ardent seeker of knowledge. She was introverted and I extraverted. For some inexplicable reason, there were many popular and unusual topics we debated for hours. Unexpectedly, in September 2015 she announced to me she had gotten a scholarship to study for a PhD in the USA and promised she was going to miss me. I was flattered. That was the last I saw of her and her company. Despite having spent so many hours talking with her about a variety of topics, we never exchanged surnames. It was a sincere Platonic relationship we had.

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A Song for Reassurance: Okpan Arhibo Verses

Oruru ro w’egbedere ko taghra

Oruru ro w’egbedere ko taghra

Obor ri guono ughwume sonobrughwe rovwo na’a

Obor ri guono ughwume sonobrughwe rovwo na’a 

Oruru ro w’egbedere ko taghra

Oruru ro w’egbedere ko taghra

Abortu ri guono ughwu r’Okpan Oghene rovwo na’a

Itu ri guono ughwume Oghene rovwo na’a 

Translation:

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Paramole Returns on His Birthday

 

Saturday the 25th of April 2020 was cold and blank in the Davy Jones Locker. A few sailors had passed through the rendezvous to the other side after becoming victims to Covid-19 and other causes but this Saturday there were no forgone sailors arriving. For the first time in my experience there, a particular case of forgone reversal occurred. The Great Door had open and solemn song could be heard accompanied by restrained okombo [drum] beats. I became very concerned and might have tricked myself I was not scared. The Great Door only opened when a sailor was about to cross the Great Gangway. Why had it opened without a forgone arrival? I began to hear footsteps, they got closer, and a man emerged, Paramole himself. About 7 feet away from me, he stopped. His face was listless. I was frozen all over with amazement, and he did not seem happy to see me where I was.

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A Death In A Dream

 

I had a dream last night that I had died while dreaming. Then nothingness, Okuku [total blankness]. It was all over, no points of return available or imaginable. However, when I woke up this morning and found that I was still alive, fresh and sexy [Gbogborogbo!], I almost fell unconscious with the shock of surprise. The unconsciousness that one recovers from I have experienced endlessly, and it can be pleasant but not the one who felt permanent as in my dream. Sleep, inebriation, general anaesthesia and over-high fevers, I have all woken up from, but it seemed impossible for me to do so in this dream. I have never been knocked out in all my many fights, though I am no longer a youth.

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Where Is Deji Akintilo?

 

I saw Fabio Romani the other day, not long ago. He was kind enough to enter my submarine on his long journey, unknown to me then, to the Land of the Forgone. He was indeed a Jolly Sailor who showed me a thing or two about being at sea at our meeting. However, he had never been in a submarine. He inspected my submarine and was impressed with what he saw. He asked me “is this where you launch your mutinous torpedoes and cruise missiles from?” I was too shy or embarrassed to answer. After giving him the grand and informed tour of the ocean’s bed, I finally took him to the Davy Jones Locker’s rendezvous. When we both entered the rendezvous, he was surprised to see a third fellow there, another outstanding sailor who did not want to be disturbed. They coldly exchange brief greetings. The Locker was too cold for liveliness, and people do not elect to reside there; it’s either Adam’s Punishment or Cap’n Blood’s Punishment; Fabio was there for the former, I was there for the latter.

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Oppression as a Test: Some Questions

Knowing that one is living with oppression is a blessing whenever it decides to come, not knowing is a curse that will forever leave one much worse off. – Guynes
Before attempting to answer a few interesting questions arising from readers of the article Oppression as a Test: A Metaphor for the Nigerian Youth (https://wp.me/p1bOKH-P5), it is important to explain a simple taxonomy of oppression.
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Oppression as a Test: A metaphor for the Nigerian Youth

Those who have come to know and trust death embrace it with love. It is the very foundation of freedom. Oppressors love no one, not their wives, not their children, not their friends. How can such a person love death? Behind the empty shell of the oppressor, he fears all the real tests of his worth that are imminent.” – Guynes
Oppression is a test or testing event. Some strange men habitually oppress others, and they commonly do so by the actual practice or simulations of “bone testing”. Bone testing works because it is the violent use of bones by those who claim to be “strong” [bullies?] and can in varying degrees damage the bones, muscles, tissues, and nerves of others, thus securing their submission. Bone testing not only causes ache and hurt, but it also can maim and kill too. Why would the oppressed and opressable not fear it? Such is the stuff of oppression; inducing fear. All resistance breaks down. The next level of oppression is the use of “word testing”. The words of mouth are perhaps the most effectively used human instrument of domination known, mainly, where the hypocrisy of peace and doing good exists. It is the domain of intimidation, scaremongering, perplexity and verbal dehumanisation on the one hand. And deception, persuasion, feel-good-factors and the sale of hope on the other. It is also oppression by mind-control. All dissent or oppositions takes a crushing. Bone and word testing as used to oppress are very physical and psychological, respectively, derived from a wide array of evil incentives.

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