Ifè does not open her arms to welcome you the way Ìbàdàn would. You know this because you notice how she takes you in slowly…
There are many ways to begin the story. One could start with the exodus from Ibadan for instance or the melting of bodies into a dance on a cold and moonless Friday night…
A man died recently. Let us call him ‘C’. I did not know him in life, not even his name.
It is a fascinating thing how we always arrive fully clothed into conversations protected by a veil that is meant to shroud us from the world…