I looked at the Egungun and I saw its eyes,
the talking drum whispered to me
as dust sneaked into my nostrils.
I sneezed out my forefathers;
Olubadan upon Olubadan.
This beautiful city; where my
father trekked and blossomed
and my grandmother sold eko for his blossomy. 

I looked at the Egungun and I saw its eyes,
The church bell cried
and Lagelu's voice whispered in the wind,
as his blood camouflaged in the red of mud houses.
This beautiful city; where roots dig deeper
than the pathway to Hades.
Oyo's favourite's son,
The Alafin's jewel.

I looked at the Egungun and its eyes saw me,
it saw the essence of Oludoye my grandfather
and great Olutade before him – the one I was named after.
Their nuclei wander from Oluyole, to Ile Olubota
to Abule Olugbemi. And
I say to Oluwa, Ese,
Thank you for this mud red city.


Photo source: northoflagos


8 thoughts on “Ibadan

  1. Ruky

    I feel like this is something kids can read at school or an anthology teachers make us read in English Literature.

    Pretty awesome though, I wanted more of it, didn’t want it to end.

  2. Lade

    I had a smile on my face when I got this link. It felt like a gift; it is a gift. Thank you for bringing your creative soul to a city I have only heard about but never lived. Now I know where you come from. 🙂

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