Sunday, December 30, 2018


A view of Ibadan from Bower's Tower. I took this picture.

Ibadan is good memories,
Of growing up with impish siblings and devoted parents,
Of walking around Iwo Road handing out flyers for church programs,
Of the delicious amala and gbegiri you could find on every side street,
Of brown cardboard boxes that arrived from the United States with loads of books,

Ibadan is bad memories,
Of being laughed at for having a big head,
Of running from a mad man at Orita Aperin,
Of heaps of garbage that threatened to drown the city,
Of the corpse that rotted for days at the Sawmill junction,

Ibadan is love,
For the dusty roads I wandered often as a young child,
For Toye, Niyi, and my other old friends who still live there,
For Loyola and Wesley, and the people I went to school with,
For its quick-witted people who pride in their sharp tongues,

Ibadan is home.

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