Find out what’s happening around you in our weekly round up of events. Now is the time to take advantage of Christmas sales from designers and retailers around you. Also, find out where you can give yourself and your loved ones a treat this weekend.

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Angola, one of the wonderful countries in south central Africa is bounded by Namibia in the south, Zambia in the east and Democratic Republic of Congo in the north with the western portion of Angola bounded by the Atlantic Ocean. Angola’s capital is the beautiful and expensive city of Luanda.

Luanda is the only metropolitan city in Angola which makes it the centre of administrative activities. It is called the expensive city to live in the world. Luanda consists of 7 municipalities and the city is commonly called Luanda Sul for some other cities. The climate in Luanda is semi arid, therefore not hot and humid but sometimes dry and cold with and short rainy season in March to April making June till August the best time to visit as there is no rain.

There are a lot of beautiful and interesting places to visit in Luanda e.g National Slavery Museum, National Anthropology Museum, some natural tourist attractions like waterfalls, landscapes, islands etc. the main and largest airport in Luanda in Quarto de Fevereiro which makes it easy to visit, along with Luandan trains, minibuses taxis, and other public transportation.

Luanda consists of some African ethnic group such as Bakongo, Ovimbundu and Ambundu. Most of people use Portuguese language and other people will talk with Bantu language. The minority population is coming from European. Most people are mixed race European or Portuguese with the native.

Here are some of the most beautiful tourist destinations in the Luanda:

• Valley of the Moon: Also known as Miradouro da Lua or Wwatchpoint, this is one of the most stunning landscapes in Angola and it is located at the coast 40kms south of Luanda, Angola.

• The Island of Luanda: Located off the shore of Luanda, The Island of Luanda, also called Ilha de Luanda or Ilha do Cabo is also a beautiful tourist destination.

• The Bay of Luanda: This bay is an open view from the Island of Luanda or Ilha de Luanda and it is one of the most beautiful bays in both Angola and the world.

More pictures below:

The nominees list for the 2016 edition of the Golden Globe Awards are out. As usual our African stars are making the continent very proud. British-Ghanaian actor Idris Elba, Nigeria’s David Oyelowo and Uzo Aduba Viola Davis, Taraji P Henson have all bagged in nominations.

Hit shows such as How to Get Away with Murder and Empire’s hard work paid off as they were not left out. Check out the full nominees list below

Film

Best motion picture – drama

Carol
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Revenant
Room
Spotlight

Best performance by an actor in a motion picture – drama

Bryan Cranston, Trumbo
Leonardo DiCaprio, The Revenant
Michael Fassbender, Steve Jobs
Eddie Redmayne, The Danish Girl
Will Smith, Concussion

Best performance by an actress in a motion picture – drama

Cate Blanchett, Carol
Brie Larson, Room
Rooney Mara, Carol
Saoirse Ronan, Brooklyn
Alicia Vikander, The Danish Girl

Best motion picture – comedy or musical

The Big Short
Joy
The Martian
Spy
Trainwreck

Best performance by an actor in a motion picture – comedy or musical

Christian Bale, The Big Short
Steve Carell, The Big Short
Matt Damon, The Martian
Al Pacino, Danny Collins
Mark Ruffalo, Infinitely Polar Bear

Best performance by an actress in a motion picture – musical or comedy

Jennifer Lawrence, Joy
Amy Schumer, Trainwreck
Melissa McCarthy, Spy
Maggie Smith, The Lady in the Van
Lily Tomlin, Grandma

Best performance by an actress in a supporting role in a motion picture

Jane Fonda, Youth
Jennifer Jason Leigh, The Hateful Eight
Helen Mirren, Trumbo
Alicia Vikander, Ex Machina
Kate Winslet, Steve Jobs

Best performance by an actor in a supporting role in a motion picture

Paul Dano, Love & Mercy
Idris Elba, Beast of No Nation
Mark Rylance, The Bridge of Spies
Michael Shannon, 99 Homes
Sylvester Stallone, Creed

Best director

Todd Haynes, Carol
Alejandro González Iñárritu, The Revenant
Tom McCarthy, Spotlight
George Miller, Mad Max: Fury Road
Ridley Scott, The Martian

Best screenplay

Room
Spotlight
The Big Short
Steve Jobs
The Hateful Eight

Best foreign language film

The Brand New Testament
The Club
The Fencer
Mustang
Son of Saul

Best animated feature film

Anomalisa
Inside Out
Shaun the Sheep Movie
The Good Dinosaur
Snoopy and Charlie Brown: The Peanuts Movie

Best original song

Love Me Like You Do, Fifty Shades of Grey
One Kind of Love, Love & Mercy
See You Again, Fast and Furious 7
Simple Sound #3, Youth
Writing’s on the Wall, Spectre

Best original score

Carol
The Danish Girl
Inside Out
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Revenant

Television

Best television series – drama

Empire
Game of Thrones
Mr Robot
Narcos
Outlander

Best performance by an actor in a television series – drama

Liev Schreiber, Ray Donovan
Wagner Moura, Narcos
Bob Odenkirk, Better Call Saul
Rami Malek, Mr Robot
Jon Hamm, Mad Men

Best television series – comedy

Casual
Mozart in the Jungle
Orange Is the New Black
Silicon Valley
Transparent
Veep

Best performance by an actor in a television series – musical or comedy

Jeffrey Tambor, Transparent
Aziz Ansari, Master of None
Rob Lowe, The Grinder
Will Forte, Last Man on Earth
Patrick Stewart, Blunt Talk

Best performance by an actress in a television series – musical or comedy

Rachel Bloom, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend
Jamie Lee Curtis, Scream Queens
Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Veep
Gina Rodriguez, Jane the Virgin
Lily Tomlin, Grace and Frankie

Best performance by an actress in a television series – drama

Viola Davis, How to Get Away with Murder
Caitriona Balfe, Outlander
Eva Green, Penny Dreadful
Taraji P Henson, Empire
Robin Wright, House of Cards

Best performance by an actress in a miniseries or motion picture made for television

Lady Gaga, American Horror Story: Hotel
Sarah Hay,
Felicity Huffman,
Kirsten Dunst,
Queen Latifah, Bessie

Best performance by an actor in a miniseries or motion picture made for television

Idris Elba, Luther
Oscar Isaac, Show Me a Hero
David Oyelowo, Nightingale
Mark Rylance, Wolf Hall
Patrick Wilson, Fargo

Best performance by an actress in a supporting role in a series, miniseries or motion picture made for television

Uzo Aduba, Orange is the New Black
Joanne Froggatt, Downton Abbey
Regina King, American Crime
Judith Light, Transparent
Maura Tierney, The Affair

Best performance by an actor in a supporting role in a series, miniseries or motion picture made for television

Alan Cumming, The Good Wife
Damian Lewis, Wolf Hall
Ben Mendelsohn, Bloodlines
Tobias Menzies, Outlander
Christian Slater, Mr Robot

Best miniseries or motion picture made for television

American Crime
American Horror Story: Hotel
Fargo
Flesh and Bone
Wolf Hall

I am currently stuck on food because of how amazing it is to see beautiful foods from other countries in Africa being prepared and how delicious they look after the entire process is over. The diversity and, at the same time, similarity of how several countries cook a particular food is so baffling but easy to catch on with too.

Today, I am going to show you how to make Haitian sauce. This sauce is mostly eaten with rice but from the preparations, I really think it’s easy to tweak to suit other staple foods as well; probably with a bit of vegetables, fish, shrimps etc here and there (just saying). It’s remarkably easy to cook and I bet it tastes delicious as well. If you’re a lover of chicken like myself, I’m sure you’ll try this out real soon.

So here’s how to make Haitian sauce:

For those my lovely people who can’t view the video but are interested, here are the ingredients and the process of making Haitian stew.

Process:

Heat a pot on fire till it is dry after which you add 1/4 cup of oil.

Then you add two spoons of tomato paste to the oil.

Then add the commesurate sauce of the boiled and seasoned chicken (chicken should be fried after) to the oil and tomato paste.

Stir for a bit to mix, then leave on the fire to cook.

When it is cooked, add the fried chicken to the sauce, add some fresh pepper and tomatoes if preferred, then finally add your sliced onions (in ring form) to the sauce.

Leave to cook for a bit and then the Haitian sauce is ready.

Don’t hesitate to try this out and you’ll definitely never stop.

Why The Turtle Has a “Cracked” Shell 

There was a famine in the animal kingdom and Ketu the tortoise was finding  food was hard to come by. However, he found out that all the birds in the forest were preparing for the great annual bird feast in the sky and those who had been lucky enough to attend this annual event could testify to the abundance of food at the feast. Since the feast took place in the sky, only the birds could attend. But Ketu the tortoise was not one to give up so easily. He went to every bird he knew and borrowed a feather making using one excuse or another When he had gathered enough glued all these feathers to his back and all over his body and soon, he was the most colorful bird you had ever seen. 

On the day of the feast, Ketu the tortoise joined the other birds to make the trip to the great feast in the sky. The other birds could not recognize this strange colorful bird and asked him who he was.

Ketu responded and said his name was: “All of Us”

When it was time for the feast, all the food was laid out on a table. Ketu the tortoise asked: “who does this food belong to?” and all the birds answered “all of us”. Ketu the tortoise said, “that is me, my name is All of Us” and so he ate all the food while the birds had none.

The birds were so angry that they grabbed “All of Us”, but as they grabbed him, his feathers would come off until the tortoise was revealed. To punish him, the birds decided to leave him in the sky, they would not fly him back to land. Tortoise begged the birds to give a message to his wife. He then asked his wife to lay out as many mattresses as she could find so he could have a soft landing. The birds who were still angry told his wife that her husband wanted her to bring out all the furniture in the house and that was what she did.

The tortoise jumped from the sky, but instead of landing on a soft mattress, he landed on wood furniture and his shell broke into many pieces.

His wife collected these pieces and glued them together and that is why the tortoise does not have a smooth shell.

Take a look at the full list of nominees for the AMVCAs 2016:

BEST OVERALL MOVIE (AFRICA) 
Dry – Stephanie Linus

Freetown – Adam Abel and Garrett Batty

AYANDA – Sara Blecher

Tell Me Something Sweet – Akin Omotosho

Road To Yesterday – Ishaya Bako

Silverain – Juliet Asante

House Arrest – Joseph Kenneth Ssebaggala

BEST TELEVISION SERIES

Jane and Abel – Dorothy Ghettuba

How to Find a Husband – Erica Sugo Anyadike

Santalal – Gerald Langiri

Officer Titus – Olabisi Jinadu

Daddy’s Girls – Ariyike Oladipo

BEST WRITER OF A MOVIE/TV SERIES 

FREETOWN – Melissa Leilani Larson

ANNIVERSARY – AFE OLUMOWE

ROAD TO YESTERDAY – Emil B. Garuba

IQUO’S JOURNAL – BLESSING EGBE

AYANDA – Trish Malone

BEST COSTUME DESIGNER (MOVIE/TV SERIES)         

Dry – Uche Nancy

Silverain – Patrick Asante

Being Mrs Elliot – Byge Oru

The First Lady – Tomi Adeoye

Oracle Online – Ejiro Amos Tafiri/Vanessa Otarva

Cougars – Angel Nwakibie

BEST MAKEUP ARTIST (MOVIE/TV SERIES)

Dry – Gabriel Okorie

Ayanda – LOUIZA CALORE

Jaja the Great – Innocent Abba

Ojuju – Funke Olowu

Being Mrs Elliot – Moses Ogunlana

BEST LIGHTING DESIGNER (MOVIE/TV SERIES)         

Common Man            – Stanlee Ohikhuare

Kpians-the feast of souls – Stanlee Ohikhuare

House Arrest – Francis Lubanjuma

Gbomo Gbomo Express – David Wyte and Paul Gambit

Being Mrs Elliot – Oluwole Olawoyin

BEST ACTOR IN A COMEDY (MOVIE/TV SERIES)        

Officer Titus – Kelechi Udegbe

Stop – IK Ogbonna

Caught in the Act – Bishop Imeh Umoh

Head Gone – Bowoto Jephthah

Jenifa’s Diary – Folarin Falana

BEST ACTOR IN A DRAMA (MOVIE/TV SERIES)          

BREATHLESS – MIKE EZURUONYE

BEING MRS ELLIOT – MAJID MICHEAL

A LONG NIGHT – VAN VICKER

A SOLDIER’S STORY – DANIEL K. DANIEL

JAJA THE GREAT – SEGUN ARINZE

FALLING – BLOSSOM CHUKWUJEKWU

BEST DIRECTOR     

Road to Yesterday – Ishaya Bako

Dry – Stephanie Linus

Tell me Sweet Something – Akin Omotosho

Ayanda – Sara Blecher

Gbomo Gbomo Express – Walter ‘Waltbanger’ Taylaur

Rebecca – Shirley Frimpong-Manso

BEST ACTRESS IN A COMEDY (MOVIE/TV SERIES)

JENIFA’S DIARY – FUNKE AKINDELE

BEING MRS ELLIOT – LEPACIOUS BOSE

SKINNY GIRL IN TRANSIT – ABIMBOLA CRAIG

AN AFRICAN CITY – NANA MENSAH

DESPERATE HOUSE GIRLS – INI EDO

BEST ACTRESS IN A DRAMA (MOVIE/TV SERIES)

Road to yesterday – Genevieve Nnaji

Don’t cry for me – Mary Lazarus

Stop – Belinda Effah

Ayanda – Fulu Mugovhani

Falling – Adesua Etomi

The Visit – Nse Ikpe-Etim

BEST PICTURE EDITOR     

Tell me Sweet Something – Vuyani Sondlo

Road To Yesterday – Chuka Ejorh

A Soldier’s Story – Frankie Ogar

Rebecca – Shirley Frimpong-Manso

Special Crimes Unit: Lasgidi Cops – Adeyemi Olowoshagba

BEST DOCUMENTARY       

THE NEW AFRICA – Kagho Crowther Idhebor

FAAJI AGBA – Remi Vaughan-Richards

GOGE AFRICA ENCOUNTERS WILD GORILLA – Nneka Isaac-Moses

DEMYSTIFYING AUTISM – Dotun Akande

DAWN TO DUSK – Nanmet Anthony

BEST MOVIE – SOUTHERN AFRICA         

Ayanda – Sara Blecher

Tell Me Sweet Something – Akin Omotosho

Lilongwe – Joyce mhango chavula

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR         

A Soldier’s Story – Sambassa Nzeribe

Stolen Water – Blossom Chukwujekwu

Stigma            – Soibifaa Dokubo

A soldier’s story – Olumide Oworu

The Department – O.C. Ukeje

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS (MOVIE/TV SERIES)

BEFORE 30 – BEVERLY NAYA

TELL ME SWEET SOMETHING – THISHIWE ZIQUBU

BEFORE 30 – TUNBOSUN AIYEDIHIN

DRY – ZUBAIDAT IBRAHIM FAGGE

THE GREEN NECKLACE – LEPACIOUS BOSE

BEST ART DIRECTOR (MOVIE/TV SERIES)

Stigma            – Dagogo Diminas

Dry – Gabriel Okorie

Common Man – Stanlee Ohikhuare

The refugees – Frank Raja Arase

Elephant in the Room – Patrick ‘koinage’ Nnamani

BEST CINEMATOGRAPHER (MOVIE/TV SERIES)        

AYANDA – Jonathan Kovel

COUPLE OF DAYS – Tolu LordTanner

THE REFUGEES – Okey Oku and Robert Peters

DRY – Angel Barroeta

COMMON MAN – Stanlee ohikhuare

TELL ME SOMETHING SWEET – Paul Michaelson

BEST SHORTFILM OR ONLINE VIDEO    

Panic Button – Bongiwe Selane

Yawa – Kassim Braimah

A Day with Death – Oluseyi Amuwa

Blood Taxi – Folasakin Iwajomo

A Cup of Sugar – Bongiwe Selane

BEST INDIGENOUS LANGUAGE MOVIE/TV SERIES – YORUBA

Taxi driver (Oko Ashewo) – Don Omope

Victims – MERCY AIGBE GENTRY

Ayomi – Bukunmi Oluwasina

Shadow – Kazim Adeoti

Binta Ofege – Abiodun Jimoh and Jumoke Odetola

Best Movie – West Africa (Drama/Comedy)

DRY – Stephanie Linus

STIGMA – Dagogo Diminas

THE VISIT – Biodun Stephens (Koga Studios)

THE REFUGEES – Frank Rajah Arase

SILVERAIN – Juliet Asante

COMMON MAN – Stanlee ohikhuare

ROAD TO YESTERDAY – Chinny Onwugbenu, Genvieve Nnaji, Chichi Nwoko

BEST SOUND EDITOR (MOVIE/TV SERIES)

Ayanda – Guy Steer

Road to yesterday – Kulanen Ikyo

Dry – Marquex Jose Guillermo

Candle in the wind – Bernie Anti

Bambitious – Maurice Kings

Tell me Sweet Something – Gavin McCullough

BEST INDIGENOUS LANGUAGE MOVIE/TV SERIES- IBO        

Chetanna – CHIGOZIE ATUANYA

The Missing God – Ubaka Joseph Ugochukwu

Udo Gba koi koi – ONYEKACHUKWU OKEKE

Nduka – Charles Novia

Usekwu Igbo -PAUL IGWE

BEST INDIGENOUS LANGUAGE MOVIE/TV SERIES – HAUSA

Sarki Jatau – Bashir Abdullahi

Inji Yan’ Ca Ca – NAJJASHI SB JAKARA

Sakaina – Abubakar mai shadda and Hafizu Bello

Baya Da Kura – NUHU ABDULLAHI

Dadin Kowa – Salisu Balarabe

BEST INDIGENOUS LANGUAGE MOVIE/TV SERIES – SWAHILI        

MYUMBA 10 – Damaris Irungu-Ochieng

SAMAKI MCHANGANI – Amil Shivji

FIHI – Caroline Mbaturia

SUMU – Neema Ndanu Kilon

KITENDAWALI – Josephat Lukaza

BEST MOVIE – EAST AFRICA

HOUSE ARREST – JOSEPH KENNETH SSEBAGGALA

MAPENZI – Elizabeth Michael

CALL 112 – JOSEPH KENNETH SSEBAGGALA

KITENDAWALL – Josephat Lukaza

MPANGO MBAYA – Staford Kihore

DADDY’S WEDDING – Honeymoon Aljabri

To ensure your favorite actor or actress, producer wins, start voting NOW!

With the dwindling oil and gas prices and climate change looming large accross the globe, the continent has so far organised a fund of over $51USD in order to combat the effects of climate change.

One of the major solutions to this impending issue is investing in more renewable energy sources. I have always been an advocate for Solar and Wind Energy, the intensity of the sunshine in Lagos alone should be enough to reduce our over-reliance on Hydro stations. of 2015, 6 countries stand out as beacons of the change to new, clean future energy sources on the continent. Ethiopia, Kenya, Egypt, South Africa, Morocco and Mauritiana have become pioneers in the field. “Africa’s potential for renewable is enourmous” said Achim Steiner of the UN Environment Programme. I could not agree more with this statement, and a dacade ago only South Africa had began implementing renewable energy as a key pillar in its energy strategy.

Now we have over 30 countries beginning to see the light and making heavy investments in clean energy. Considering the fact that Africa (especially Sub-Saharan Africa) already registeres very high temperatures, climate change would further turn up the heat. This will in turn affect agriculture, wildlife and eventually our industries. Its great to finally see that alternative energy is starting to make its impact in the continnet – slowly but surely the right moves are being made. According to International Energy Agency 620 million people on the continent do not have access to electricity, however studies show that those numbers are incaccurate as household solar panels have gained a foothold on the continent and are usually not used durring data collection – most likely as a result of them not being connected to the national grid.

According to  NewAfrican in West Africa, Cameroon leads the charge towards green energy and sustainable urban development as Climate change gradually eats away at many major sources of natural water (Lake Chad for example is now below 10% of the landmass it occupied in 1960) due to increasing global temperatures.

More to follow as the series continues. Do we need to prepare for Climate change? Share your thoughts on the subject as we delve into the scientific side of modern Africa. 

I came across this song, Mama I made it, by South African rapper, Cassper Nyovest and I totally loved it. This single, from his second album, Refileo, expresses the African culture of gratitude; here, of attributing a child’s successes to the person who influenced him the most, his mother. In a society where children can’t wait to get off their parents’ roof to pursue success, Cassper ‘makes it’and deems it fit to thank his mother who was a major influence in his success. The rap has lyrical depth and also a depth of feeling as Cassper rolls those lines off his tongue to the rhythmic beat of the song. The video is also simply packaged without the distracting drama of half-clad ladies swinging to the beat. It focuses on expressing the meaning of the song rather than deviating attention to other distractions.

About the Rapper:

Born 16th December, 1990, in Mafikeng, Cassper Nyovest, is a rapper from South Africa who also doubles as a record producer. Tsholofelo, his debut album which was released on 18 July 2014 was number 1 on the iTunes South African albums chart for 2 consecutive months and the second album, Refiloe, garnered a lot of activity on social media. Cassper’s music has received recognition and as such he has been nominated for and has received several awards – the most recent being ‘Song of the Year’ for Metro FM 2015 Awards for his song “Doc Shebeleza”and ‘Best Hip Hop Album’and ‘Best Male Album’ for Tsholofelo. He is currently signed to his own independent label and media company, Family Tree.

You can check out the video below:

The Amphitheater of El Jem, built during the 3rd century, is North Africa’s largest amphitheater, and the largest one built outside of Italy, with a capacity of 35,000 spectators, and “illustrates the grandeur and extent of Imperial Rome.”

El Djem is a town in Mahdia Governorate, Tunisia, population 48,611 (2014 census). It is home to some of the most impressive Roman remains in Africa, like the worldwide famous “Roman amphitheater of Thysdrus”.

The Roman city of Thysdrus was built, like almost all Roman settlements in ancient Tunisia, on former Punic settlements. In a less arid climate than today’s, Thysdrus, which became part of the Roman province of Byzacena, prospered especially in the 2nd century, when it became an important center of olive oil manufacturing for export. It was the seat of a Christian bishopric, which is included in the Catholic Church’s list of titular sees.

By the early 3rd century AD, when the amphitheater was built, Thysdrus rivaled Hadrumetum (modern Sousse) as the second city of Roman North Africa, after Carthage. However, following the abortive revolt that began there in 238 AD, and Gordian I’s suicide in his villa near Carthage, Roman troops loyal to the Emperor Maximinus Thrax destroyed the city.

El Djem is famous for its amphitheater, often incorrectly called a Colosseum (roughly translated from Latin as ‘that thing by the Colossus’), which is capable of seating 35,000 spectators. Only the Flavian Amphitheater in Rome (about 50,000 spectators) and the ruined theatre of Capua are larger.

The amphitheater at El Djem was built by the Romans under proconsul Gordian, who was acclaimed Emperor at Thysdrus, around 238 and was mainly used for gladiator shows and small chariot races (like in Ben-Hur).

Many tourists come here to see what it was like to be inside what was once a place where lions and people met their fate. Much of it is crumbled but the essence of it still remains. It is also possible that construction of the amphitheatre was never finished.

Until the 17th century it remained more or less whole. From then on its stones were used for building the nearby village of El Djem and transported to the Great Mosque in Kairouan, and at a tense moment during struggles with the Ottomans, the Turks used cannons to flush rebels out of the amphitheatre.

The ruins of the amphitheater were declared a World Heritage Site in 1979. It hosts the annual Festival international de musique symphonique.

Drifting sand is preserving the market city of Thysdrus and the refined suburban villas that once surrounded it. The amphitheater occupies archaeologists’ attention: no digging required. Some floor mosaics have been found and published, but field archaeology has scarcely been attempted. Recently with aerophotos has been discovered a huge racetrack stadium.

In the world of writing materials, Thysdrus lay in the Empire of Papyrus, which preserves remarkably well if kept as dry as at El Djem.

During World War II a major military airfield was located near El Djem, used first by the German Luftwaffe. It was attacked on numerous occasions and later used by the United States Army Air Forces Twelfth Air Force as a transport field. There are few, if any, remains of the airfield today with the land being returned to agricultural uses outside of the city.

Today the city of El Djem has nearly 18,000 inhabitants and receives a huge amount of tourists because of the Roman amphitheater.

The Sugabelly you know is the “Rape Girl”. The twitter siren and the devious, political tool. The Sugabelly we know, is a multi-talented artist, illustrator, writer and blogger. Between 2007 to now, we have watched her blog bloom, her art get better and better and her resolve get stronger. The Sugabelly you know is a victim of rape or political manipulations, or worst still, a fabricator. No. The Sugabelly we have met and come to admire is none of those things for us. For us, she is an artist with promise and potential that she hones everyday in writing and in craft.

Meet the Sugabelly we know:

She is witty

A lot of things are considered, “Un-Nigerian”….

Homosexuality, Feminism, and …. Eating Disorders.

No Nigerian I know, and I know a lot of Nigerians, has ever admitted to having, or claimed know of someone who had an eating disorder. They just don’t exist on the general plane of consciousness for Nigerians, and any attempt to discuss eating disorders with friends, family, acquiantances, and strangers of the Nigerian variety are swiftly met with dismissal, disbelief, and sometimes, straight up derision.

Responses range from

Only Americans have eating disorders

to

It is not your portion, in Jesus’ name. Reject it!

as if simply verbally rejecting a serious psychological condition could just make it evaporate into thin air, but no amount of rejecting, praying, or wishful thinking allowed me to wave away the stench of vomit as I upchucked my guts into the toilet after every meal.

She is kind and empathic

On a comment on her blog in 2014, she wrote

Your last reason was horrific. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I’ve been raped too and I remember the dead, dazed feeling when he finished and afterwards, just lying there and telling yourself that it wasn’t you, it didn’t happen, etc.

I hope you’re okay emotionally, mentally, and physically, and I hope there weren’t any negative health issues later. Thanks for being brave enough to share

She is grounded

..in her Nigerian roots despite her long stay in the US and the hate and backlash she has endured from Nigerians in the past month. On one of her works, titled Chineke, she wrote,

Chineke is the Igbo supreme god and the most powerful god in the Igbo pantheon. He rules over everything including all the other gods and created the universe and everything in it. I drew him with the sun in his left hand and the moon in his right.

He’s wearing a traditional Igbo robe with the wide round collar, the red Igbo cap with two eagle feathers showing his elevated status as well as the traditional Igbo leather bi-colour shoes.

He’s sitting cross legged on an Igbo iroko stool (Igbo culture is famous for our hand carved stools which world famous and premium quality). I would have loved to make the stool more complex (as most real life Igbo stools usually are ) but I got lazy and tired.

Around his neck and wrists he wears coral beads (Coral and ivory beads are status symbols in Igbo culture and can only be worn by royalty and the very important).

The diagonal marks on his forehead are called Ichi.

Ichi is the name of this particular diagonal type of scarification (cuts made into the skin to form scars) that is worn only by titled Igbo men.

As you’ve probably guessed by now, I’m Igbo (majority ethnicity in Nigeria) so I draw a lot of Igbo-themed art.

Most importantly, she is truly a talented artist. Her art has made it from illustrations in print or on paper, to the back of phone covers, pillow cases and t shirts. See pictures below:

Art is just so deeply beautiful in a diverse number of ways. With various meanings and interpretations, art draws people evoking different emotions at once. The works of Ssali Yusuf is a testament to this.

Ssali Yusuf, born on 24th April, 1983 at Kireka – Bweyogerere in Wakiso district of Uganda is a graduate of Makerere University where he studied Industrial and Fine Arts with certificated courses from both Ireland and Uganda. He started painting professionally from 2003, at 20 years of age, but used to practice painting with different artists in Uganda using materials like oil, acrylic among other media on canvas, backcloth, and sacks and on art papers. Masterful in abstract compositions, he is a member of the Kampala School, a contemporary art movement that combines a mastery of mixed media in a jumble of colours to tell the African story.

Ssali, whose favourite art subjects are women, majorly works using oil and acrylic on canvas but also in mixed media infusing bark cloth, twine and metals. The average African woman drawn from various stages in her life from teenage years to mothers inspires him and this inspiration is evident in his work. The colours are so bold and defined and this quality draws you into the depth of his art.

Exhibitions of Yusuf’s works have taken place at Makerere University art gallery, Tulifanya art gallery, AID Child Organization, and Afriart gallery in Kampala Uganda. Watatu gallery & Ramoma art gallery in Nairobi,Kenya. Evere Commune Brussels Belgium, NATTA art in Eastern Europe, and others. In 2007 he also participated in the prestigious World Exhibition in Dar es Salaam in Tanzania.  This event takes place every two years and brings together contemporary artists from around the globe.

Ssali Yusuf, who loves painting, travelling, watching movies, plays among other adventurous activities, dreams of painting and asks God to die a world famous painter. He is a member of the Uganda Artists Association (UAA), the Uganda German Culture Society (UGCS Kampala Uganda) and a member of Butterfly project in Uganda working with deprived schools children. He currently lives in Kampala, Uganda.

Here are some links to view Ssali Yusuf’s work: 1) http://ugandart.com/tools/gallery.dwp?tool=gallery&task=search&gallery_id=189&urlid=ugandart&search_value=ssali 2) http://www.artnanadede.com/ssali-yusuf and you can catch him on Twitter at @SsaliYusufPaint.

Some more of his work below:

Mr M is the clueless, naive but eternally cute character in the award winning romantic comedy by delectable Nollywood actress, Rita Dominic. He finds love amidst the craziness of Nigerian bureaucracy, in the country’s capital, Abuja. His innocent romance with Ejura, a female corp member was so touching to watch that it gained him many female fans across Africa. He suffered the negligence of Nigerian politicians and in the process makes unlikely friends, albeit reluctantly. But that is not Femi Jacobs. Its only one of our favorite versions of him  on screen. The real Femi Jacobs is a Nollywood actor, producer, recording artist, public speaker and aspiring writer. Here are a few things you should know about him:

• He has acted in over a dozen films and a few television series, most popular of which is the popular Nigerian series, Tinsel. His latest works are currently showing in Nigerian cinemas, Taxi Driver and The Visit.

• Jacobs is a multi-talented recording artiste and songwriter. He has three albums till date spanning nine years and has featured in many soaps and featured on many stages in Africa and Europe. His latest work titled ‘About a LAMB’ is a collection of rich lyrical and masterfully crafted tracks.

Photo Credit: Goldmyne

• He runs a Marketing and ideation firm, Nooce Thematics which he also founded. He studied mass communication at Lagos State University and marketing management at Lagos Business School. Also, the dangerously handsome writer trained as a pilot in South Africa.

• He has bagged multiple nominations as Best Lead Actor in AMAA, NEA, SCREEN NATION AWARDS, AMVCA, BON AWARDS and a host of others. He won the award for Best Actor in a Comedy at the 2015 Africa Magic Viewers Choice Awards (AMVCA)and Best Supporting Actor (English) at the 2014 Best of Nollywood Awards (BON)

Hopefully, we would get to sit with him one of these days and then we can bring you a truly exclusive story about this Nigerian Television sweetheart.

Discover the artist and motivational speaker in him at www.femijacobs.net

There is so much beauty inherent in Africa – her culture, people, fabrics, food etc. Here are some great new ways to switch up your African fashion to suit your modern tastes. African prints are so creatively flexible and this season, you can flaunt that originality anywhere.

Kobbi Klutse is a Master Artisan of many talents! He is a Master Puppeteer, wood carver, drum maker, traditional mask dancer, and last, but not least, fire eater! Kobbi owns a store in the Accra Art Center where he sells the wares he makes and practices with the traditional African band he leads.

Having been born in Ghana and brought up in Togo by his grandparents, Kobbi speaks French, Ewe and Twi fluently. His use of English improves daily as he makes meaningful conversations with Americans and British that he meets through his work.

While his band plays a variety of drums that Kobbi has carved from the wood that he finds in the forests of Ghana, Kobbi will make his hand-carved marionette dance to the music.

When the video camera is focused on the puppet that Kobbi directs with a multitude of strings, one thinks the puppet is really human! Its feet move back and forth and up and down to the music. Its knees bend at the joints. Its hands and jointed arms move with the rhythm of the children who come close enough to dance with the puppet. The puppet raises and lowers its buttocks as the music dictates.

When the puppet has finished its dancing, Kobbi dresses up in a traditional mask costume. As he dances away from the children who are watching, they run after him. When Kobbi turns around, the children scream, run and scatter! When this dance is finished, Kobbi eats fire for the children as they, (and the adults), hold their breath!

Visitors are able to buy Kobbi’s xylophones, thumb pianos, shakers, Jamba Drums, mini-drum necklaces, and yes, even wooden turtles that light up electrically! Kobbi is proud of his work. He would like nothing better than to retire on his land in Togo and teach drumming to children all day long! Whether Kobbi is teaching children drumming, or teaching adults to play Oware, he is respected and loved by all who know him!

Gbemi Jones is a photographer born and raised in a popular town in Delta state, Sapele, the home of wine. I met him first on Facebook. His humor and good naturedness is typical of people from the south of Nigeria.  When he is not regaling his friends and followers with jokes and stories, he charms them with truly beautiful pictures. After following him for some time, I decided to do a quick Google research on him and I stumbled into pure passion! So captivated was I, that I immediately requested an interview with him via Facebook. Without hesitation or any delayed formality, he accepted! So I got him to share a few things about himself, his business and his ‘big picture’.

Originally named Jones Oghenekro Oritsegbubemi Bakodie, he spent most his life in Delta state. Born in Sapele, he completed his secondary and primary education in the state and continued to Abaraka, the state’s University to study Physics.

He ventured into photography in the University as a member of the Living Faith fellowship where he served in the technical department. After leaving the university, he bought himself what he calls a “point and shoot” camera and spent his months as a youth corps member in Enugu researching photography and honing his skills with online tutorials.

After youth service, he went back to Delta state to set up a business. So far, owning his own startup has been both fulfilling and challenging but he has been able to scale financial hurdles as they come and he’s still sailing.

In less than half a year, he has visited over a hundred places and has handled ninety-seven (97) different projects, most of which include weddings and events and therefore require him to move around a lot. When asked if he was a workaholic, he vehemently denies this but he couldn’t deny his love for travelling.

His biggest influence in the industry include his cousin and namesake Jones Odagwe, the gorgeous T.Y Bello, Animashaun, Jide Odukoya and not so surprising, he is partial to Bella Naija Weddings.

His big picture:

As a business and a person, Gbemi Jones is looking forward to breaking new grounds in 2016.

We wish him the best of luck.

Contact him at:  www.gbemijones.com

In vain your bangles cast

Charmed circles at my feet;

I am Abiku, calling for the first

And the repeated time.

Must I weep for goats and cowries

For palm oil and the sprinkled ash?

Yams do not sprout in amulets

To earth Abiku’s limbs.

So when the snail is burnt in his shell

Whet the heated fragments, brand me

Deeply on the breast. You must know him

When Abiku calls again.

I am the squirrel teeth, cracked

The riddle of the palm. Remember

This, and dig me deeper still into

The god’s swollen foot.

Once and the repeated time, ageless

Though I puke. And when you pour

Libations, each finger points me near

The way I came, where

The ground is wet with mourning

White dew suckles flesh-birds

Evening befriends the spider, trapping

Flies in wind-froth;

Night, and Abiku sucks the oil

From lamps. Mother! I’ll be the

Supplicant snake coiled on the doorstep

Yours the killing cry.

The ripes fruit was saddest;

Where I crept, the warmth was cloying.

In the silence of webs, Abiku moans, shaping

Mounds from the yolk.

By: Wole Soyinka

Okay, wait, here’s your chance: you can have the short of it, or, you can have the long of it. If you want the short version, take this email quote, “Not different enough from many other stories of single women looking without much success for Mr. Right,” which fits comfortably within the 140-character world we now live in. It’s not meant to be flippant or unkind. It’s just what it is. And if it works for you, well, you can be on your merry way. But if you don’t mind getting the long of it, by all means hang around.

The man complains of a severe, single spot headache. He looks like a dark-shadowed stickman drawn by an impish kid—all long limbs and pointy jaw. The night nurse who should have relieved me an hour earlier called to say she’d be late because of a twisted ankle. No doubt the silly cow just lied to stay home and get some when her husband got off work. But now I’m grateful to her. I get to take the stickman’s vitals, get to know his name: Louis.

He’s forty-four. I think forty-fuckable. I check his height and it occurs to me that I’ve finally grown. Or maybe I’m just getting it now, the whole life thing. What’s certain is at thirty-sexy I’m getting on. I want someone to go home to. It’s why I’ve been craving an opportunity to scold my parents for jinxing me by exiting in a way that will never be partner-hooking-friendly.

When I bring this up earlier at lunch, my friend Didi rotates her fork in midair, says I have OOCS—Orphaned Only Child Syndrome. I think how life just isn’t fair. I’m the nurse, but it’s Didi, an artist who’s not even the starving kind, who invents a disorder to justify the convoluted thoughts I’m having about my parents. So I tell her OOCS is an example of people making up phantom illnesses to rationalize plain crazy. Didi shakes her dreadlocks, says just because OOCS is not getting the budget of a small country thrown at it by the usual suspects doesn’t mean it’s not real; that if I were American, I’d be in therapy paying hourly to ask myself why I’m obsessed with my dead parents.

Well, now I’m no longer thinking of my parents. There’s a breathing man to think of and I’m checking his blood pressure. Louis is squeezing his thighs together like a mouse is about to jump out from between them. I realize he didn’t slink into the clinic because of a headache. I cock my head and turn on my gentle nurse smile. I can be nice if I want to. I just don’t usually want to.

“Would you like to lie down?” I ask.

He seems embarrassed, like he’s been caught sneaking a peek, shakes his head.

“Do you want an ice pack?”

He hesitates, as if finding his voice. “I tried that. Didn’t work.”

“Okay. In order for me to help, you need to tell me what you did for it to get that way.”

Louis flinches, becomes a frightened child facing a phantom. I put on my reassuring nurse smile. I’ve seen countless adults become kids in hospitals when something goes wrong. It takes some mothering before Louis mumbles that he took a Viagra knockoff. After getting laid twice and jerking off once, the boner still won’t subside.

I examine him, acting all professional. Still, his gloriously swollen penis triggers images I’ve been thinking a lot about because I’ve abstained for way too long. In a moment of weakness or recklessness, I lead Louis into the dark store room.

Satisfied that his erection is receding at last, I wipe the come off my leg.

When the relieve nurse limps in, I gives Louis an Advil for his imaginary headache and sign out. One glance at his Kia Picanto and I’m wondering why a cool guy like him would chug around in such a scruffy, tiny car. I caution against driving, implying it’s medically unwise.

We leave the clinic, stroll along the sidewalk of the bridge straddling the Sani Abacha Expressway near Wuse Market. Lights sparkle across the Abuja skyline—little stars witnessing things people would rather do in the dark.

I worry that having sex on what isn’t even a proper first date might make me seem cheap. Should I say something? Would it make it worse? What would I say in any case?

“I’ve never done anything like that before,” I say.

Louis grunts. Clearly he doesn’t believe me.

A car crossing the bridge slows down. My heart palpitates. Boko Haram has detonated several bombs in the city. They even had a suicide-bomber bring down part of the UN building in the Diplomatic Quarter. The thought that I might get blown up crosses my mind. But the car speeds away.

“I honestly have never done anything like that.”

Louis burrows his hands in his jeans and frowns. Perhaps he’s ferreting inside himself for a response that won’t hurt me. I think, how kind.

“Are you married?” I ask and instantly regret it.

Questions of this type are in the category of things that poison the air. Nothing can dilute their toxin once they’re out. Nonetheless, I make an effort to joke it off.

“I mean like married to your business? My parents were married—my dad to a particular ideal of feminine beauty and my mom to her cooking.”

“It’s okay, Sarah.” His tone implies my gaffe is no big deal. “I’m in the music business but I’m not married to it. I’m staying single till I answer the big questions.”

Sah-rah. Odd the way he says my name. But, now that he’s regained some of that male ego-fed confidence, his voice is so husky I wouldn’t mind if he calls me Susan.

“Honey, nobody answers the big questions,” I say.

“Well, I thought I knew the answers. But now I see only potentials.”

“How’s that?” I wonder what his big questions are.

“Just about anything can make me lean either way.”

I turn to him with a practiced quizzical look in place though I doubt if he can see that. Although I had cousins nearby when I was growing up, I was an only child so I understand people who create private worlds and populate them with whatever catches their fancy.

“Got an example?” I ask.

The lights of a passing car show his hands working the air, gathering up whatever’s there to form the big questions that he’s so concerned about. Perhaps these questions are connected to the whole of human existence. Perhaps we’re all on the verge of catastrophe.

He says, “My producer floated into the studio today, flashing pictures of himself and his pregnant girlfriend practicing giving birth. They both had these crazy grins that just filled me with a kind of envy I couldn’t understand.”

I exhale. Humankind is in no immediate danger.

“So you’d like to be a father.”

“Seems the way to go.”

I nod as we get off the bridge hand in hand and head to my bus stop. I visualize how well this will work out. So what if my parents blew it? After all, though they never openly said so, I grew up just knowing that they got married only because I was coming along.

*     *     *

The next day, after I model for another one of Didi’s bestselling nude woman’s back view paintings, we both wolf down chocolate ice cream and compare future butt sizes.

“You’ll be a fat fourteen,” Didi says, straight-faced. “I’ll stay a sexy size ten.”

I nod and let her win, choosing to ignore that she is already bigger than a size ten. What are friends for if they can’t mess with you a little? Life is tough enough without having to fight every pinprick.

Later, I’m driving with Louis through his upscale Maitama neighborhood. He says it’s usually a quiet quarter. But today a fuming woman with a long wooden pestle barricades the path of a matchbox-sized car. She threatens to Boko Haram her househusband—who’s inside the matchbox—if he doesn’t back up and return home. I make eye contact with the woman for a few seconds. Her gaze is so intense I’m afraid the woman might burn a hole through my skull. I’m grateful as we meander past the woman, through a group of laughing kids. When Louis parks the car and we come down, I realize Louis’ car is the same model as the matchbox. I shake my head and say he should go trade in the matchbox for an SUV.

Louis gives me a surprised look. “You don’t even have a car.”

“I had a car. A Corolla. Some stupid guy in an SUV ran into me. I’m lucky to be alive.”

“Tough break,” Louis says.

I want to ask him if he’s lived in America. Typically, he should have said either “Sorry” or the pidgin variant, “Eh yaa.” I forgo the question.

“My point is small cars are no good for safety or marriages.”

It’s out before I can stop myself. I cringe and curse my hormones for their treachery. But this time I make no effort to joke it off.

Minutes later in his bedroom, Louis says, “I’ve got to save myself from such anguish,” and I don’t know if he’s talking about small cars or marriages.

“Don’t you ever get lonely?” This is what I want to know.

“There were times in the past when I missed the company of a woman so much…” Louis trails off. His tone is conspiratorial so I think he’s about to confess that he’s a bigamist. Then he adds, “I acquired temporary female companionship by the age-long commercial means only to feel like”— his hands work the air again —“at the expiration of the contract.”

Only Louis can say something so weird. Maybe it comes from hanging around perpetually stoned musicians. Still, I’m concerned.

“Honey, how past is this past?”

Louis is a dog with a bone, chewing his theme.

“I pay for so many other things,” he says. “I think it’s okay to pay for that.”

I cringe. I want to smash his stickman-head with the arm that served me well in volleyball back in school. But I rein in the arm.

“You were swimming with creatures who’d sold their souls to the devil,” I say.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe you became the devil.”

I slam the door of his flat as I leave.

*     *     *

Weeks go by. After several episodes of I’m-sorry-it-won’t-happen-again and heaps of chocolate that’s only making my ass bigger, it’s evident he doesn’t come as quickly or as often as he used to when we first met. I can’t help wondering if he’s still dipping in those past waters. If he is, either those soulless creatures are going to get him for good or he’ll finally figure out the answers to his big questions. The time for one or the other is close. As for me, not a day goes by that I don’t wonder whether potentials can become reality, however fluid. But this depends on Louis answering his big questions for himself first.

God knows it shouldn’t be that hard. Does he want to get married or not? Does he want to have children or not? He’ll have to answer those first before he moves on to whom and when, right? I’m not so silly as to assume I’d be the automatic choice. I slept with him the first night I met him. He’ll have to be a living saint for that not to count against me.

What I can’t stop thinking about, what sneaks up on me even when I think I’ve forgotten, is why I’m over thirty and still single. Didi says I’m oh-so-lovable but she knows I’m going paranoid—there has to be something wrong with me. Maybe she’s right about the OOCS. My platonic male friends carry on about how I’m such a great girl. If I’m so great and it’s going this way, what would I have done if I were any less great, go into a convent?

My mum, probably feeling just as unlovable, did go into a convent. The nuns let her go though. They said her fondness for extreme culinary experiments leant itself to a different calling. She started a restaurant. Her food became so popular that another restaurateur spread a rumor about her trading her soul to the devil for recipes to seduce taste buds. My dad, himself a patron of the restaurant who stayed for one too many entrées, loved the jibe so much he lashed Mum with it whenever they quarrelled. In the end, he didn’t have to eat his words. Long before that bizarre end, I used to tongue-lash Mum for staying and taking Dad’s crap, and tongue-lash him for being a lousy jerk. Our three-way quarrels were epic. If all that had happened today, we’d have our own TV show.

*     *     *

Two days before my next birthday, my married younger cousin pops out another baby. This newborn looks so much like me it sets me thinking. Maybe I should steal the child. No stranger would suspect a thing. This is how I’ve become baby-hungry. I’m considering single parenthood. And it’s nice that the three strips I peed on in as many days all turned pink. Of course, it’ll be even nicer if I had a partner with whom I could share my joy. But where’s the hope of that happening when my so-called boyfriend doesn’t know what he wants from one day to the next?

At my party, I smile at friends and nod to inanities I barely hear. So Louis has had his share of this dysfunctional, supposedly post-modern life. How does that account for his being forty-four and still uncertain of what he wants or doesn’t want?

That’s when it all comes together. There really are no “big questions.” The unknowns of life—the unknowables, present and future—can be opportunities, avenues to seek happiness, not necessarily wells of despair into which one has to fall. His uncertainty is a choice. I’m mad at myself that it’s taken me so long to catch on. Does Louis really hate being single at forty-fuckable? I imagine, on his behalf, the limitless opportunities to sleep with as many single girls as Abuja can throw up. I consider, too, how he comes and goes as he pleases with no ball and chain to curtail his movement. Clearly, quite a few boners remain to work off before he’s done popping Viagra knockoffs.

I put this to Didi, praying she’ll counter. Faithless chance.

“He has ELS—Emotional Leper Syndrome,” she says. “He’ll never commit. Dump him.”

*     *     *

I huff over to Louis’ place and point a finger at him.

“You’re an emotional leper who wants the eternal freedom to fuck any girl you like.”

Louis squirms and shakes his head. Then he grabs his car keys and bolts. I hear the matchbox straining to start without success.

I wonder why he couldn’t just nod and let me win. Maybe I should barricade him in his irritating matchbox and threaten to Boko Haram him if he doesn’t stop making me a dishonest woman. Or, maybe I should just walk away because between OOCS and ELS, I don’t need another Didi acronym to remind me how things played out for my folks.

Whether my parents got married because I was coming along is irrelevant. My father never stopped lamenting about ending up with a woman he didn’t really dig, let alone love. My mother hadn’t the height he craved. She hadn’t the hourglass figure he worshipped. Blah fucking blah.

The day after I left home for nursing school, my mother cooked a meal for two. Plantain with pumpkin leaves. No doubt it would have been delicious. Well-sauced pieces of croakers? Check. Goat meat and peppered snails? Check. All of it stir-fried in tasty palm oil? Of course. My father’s favorite meal. My parents died soon afterwards. Four days passed before their corpses raised enough of a stink for discovery. My mother left a lethal condiment instead of a note.

Given Louis’ I-can’t-be-bothered lifestyle and the life that’s growing in me now, what are the odds history isn’t on a repeat cycle if I pull any barricade moves? But then again when has that ever been reason enough to walk away when the highways of life are paths of open destinies both trampled by hordes and yet lacking a single footprint?

With my braids tied up, I stomp over to the door of the woman with the pestle.

“I want to borrow something,” I say. I’m the one with the laser glare now.

A couple of laughing kids dash past me as I hurry back with the pestle. Looking around for Louis, I pay them no mind. Louis is nowhere to be seen. The matchbox is still in place, though. On one dusty window is a message in wobbly capitals: WASH ME, FOOL!

I raise the pestle and wonder if I’ve ever been lovable, if I’ll ever be lovable. Whatever the answers, I know it’s not in this moment, not in the downward swing.

And you; now that you know the long of it—assuming you didn’t just scroll down here to see how it ends—would you still hang around if you had your chance all over again? Or would you just take the 140-character quote—the source of which you must have guessed to be a blasé editor—and move on to the next?

______

Davina Owombre’s fiction appears in Queer Africa: New and Collected Fiction(MaThoko’s Books, 2013), See You Next Tuesday: The Second Coming (Better Non Sequitur, 2008) and at Litro Magazine. A finalist in Narrative’s Spring 2012 Story Contest and Glimmer Train’s December 2011 Fiction Open, she’s a believer in late-night laundry and also the sometimes pseudonym of an African writer who tweets insouciantly from the handle @dowombre.

Published by: The Burrow Press

Twins Seven-Seven was born Taiwo Olaniyi Oyewale Aitoyeje in Ogidi Ikumu, Nigeria, in 1944. One of the most multitalented artists from the Oshogbo school, he paints, draws, sculpts, designs textiles and does metalwork. A musician, he has also produced several albums. Today he lives in Oshogbo, is active in local politics and performs with a band.

The Elephant Enticement (1979)

Twins’ imagination knows no bounds. He fills his works with fantastic creatures, creating a world with ties to Yoruba oral traditions, myths, religion and his own personal experiences. Among his most famous works are a group of etchings he created to illustrate the works of the famous Nigerian writer, Amos Tutuola (1920–1997). Populated with spirits and ghosts, Twins’ etchings perfectly recreate the world of Tutuola’s equally vivid imagination.

Baby Naming Ceremony (1990)

Visually, his work resembles Yoruba carvings in the segmentation, division and repetition of his compositions; conceptually, it reflects this influence in the emphasis on transformation and balance, as well as its embodiment of dualities such as the earthly and the spiritual, past and present, industry and agriculture. Early works such as Dreams of the Abiku Child (1967) make allusion to concepts or figures in Yoruba cosmology and mythology, such as the abiku (twin), and the orisha Osun. However, Twins Seven Seven has also described his work as “contemporary Yoruba traditional art,” not only paying homage to the influence of his cultural background but also to noting his responsiveness to current events and the postcolonial experience.

Shape in the Clouds (1990)

Twins has also developed a technique known as sculpture painting, in which he raises the foreground of a painting to create a low relief. His paintings and prints are densely populated with figures that stand out from the background and move forward towards the viewer. Each image is carefully outlined in ink and subtly uses complementary colors.

Acrobatic Dancers (2007)

He was designated UNESCO Artist for Peace on 25 May 2005 “in recognition of his contribution to the promotion of dialogue and understanding among peoples, particularly in Africa and the African Diaspora”.

King and his Subjects (2005)

Twins Seven Seven died on 16 June 2011 following complications from a stroke.