ARTISTIC TRIBE

There is a particular kind of safety that cannot be purchased. Not installed. Not outsourced to a uniformed guard at a gate. Not captured on CCTV or tracked by a mobile app. It is the kind of safety that exists only when people know each other well enough to notice when something is wrong, and care enough to say so. I grew up inside that kind of safety. Most Nigerians of my generation did, whether they remember it clearly or not. In the Yoruba community I was raised in, the unwritten rules were clear and consistent. The elderly knew the children by name, and the children knew which elder's compound they could not run through without consequences. Strangers did not pass unnoticed. Not because anyone was stationed at a post watching, but because the community itself was always watching, not out of suspicion, but out of the natural attentiveness of people who were genuinely connected to one another. That social arrangement had a name. The Yoruba called it " Agboole ...

NCWS Oyo Congratulates Hannah Ogunesan, Other Victorious Female Aspirants Across Political Parties The National Council of Women’s Societies (NCWS), Oyo State Chapter, has congratulated Mrs. Hannah Olawumi Ogunesan and other female aspirants who emerged victorious in the recently concluded All Progressives Congress (APC) primary elections in Oyo State. In a statement issued by the President of NCWS Oyo State, Mrs. Kikelomo Olu Oyelade, the council described the victories as a positive development for women’s inclusion and participation in politics. NCWS noted that the emergence of women in different elective positions reflects the growing impact of female leadership and renewed confidence in women seeking public office. Particular congratulations were extended to Mrs. Hannah Olawumi Ogunesan, who emerged victorious in the APC primary for Oyo North Senatorial District. According to the council, the success recorded by female aspirants should serve as encouragemen...

OUR CHILDREN WERE TAKEN: NCWS Oyo Appeals for Safe Release of Abducted Students, Teachers The National Council of Women’s Societies (NCWS), Oyo State Chapter, has appealed to the Federal Government, Oyo State Government, security agencies, and relevant stakeholders to intensify efforts toward the safe release of students and teachers abducted during the recent attack on schools in Oriire Local Government Area of Oyo State. In a statement issued by the President of NCWS Oyo State, Mrs. Kikelomo Olu Oyelade , the council expressed concern over the incident involving Community Grammar School and L.A. Primary School in Ahoro-Esinele, as well as First Baptist Nursery and Primary School, Yawota. According to the statement, several students and teachers were affected during the attack, a development NCWS described as painful and deeply troubling. The organisation appreciated the ongoing efforts of the Federal Government, Oyo State Government, security agencies, community leade...

Marriage Is Overrated "Marriage"(n.): Legally after 18, socially at 25, economically after 30, logically never. And yet. The flowers arrive. The cake nobody actually wanted. The relatives who cry for reasons only they understand. The vows which are essentially a legally binding promise to split the thermostat argument for the rest of your life. At 18 you sign anything. Love is a document you read with your chest and not your eyes. At 25 the aunties win. Not because they are right  but because they are " present " and relentless and they know where you live. At 30 you do the math. Two incomes, one rent, shared subscriptions, the economics of loneliness finally outweighed by the economics of " us " And logically? Logically, it makes no sense  two people promising forever in a world where forever averages about eleven years before someone,  changes the Netflix password. Nobody tells you about the Tuesday. The one where love sits across from you in...

The Living Dead What death hath claimed, no mortal hand may slay, For I have dwelt in darkness long before This flesh was bidden to endure the day, And breathe the air my hollow lungs abhor. Mine eyes do open, yet mine eyes are closed, This heart doth beat, though long it ceased to feel, A borrowed life, in counterfeit reposed, A wounded soul concealed behind appeal. For she who bore me weeps not at my grave, And so I wear this flesh as one wears grief — A masquerade, a show that she may save Her tender heart from sorrow's sharp relief. So let no blade, no poison, flame, nor fall Presume to end what Death hath long since called.

A Broken Heart I wake before the sun remembers its duty, With plans folded neatly inside my chest, Skills sharpened like tools in a worker’s box, Yet no door waits for my knock. My hands know labour, My mind knows creation, I have learned, unlearned, relearned— Still, opportunity walks past me As though I am invisible air. Three months stretch like dry seasons, Days counting themselves in silence, Bills whisper louder than prayers, And hope now negotiates with doubt. They say work hard, I did. They say be patient, I am. But patience grows heavy When effort bears no harvest. I am not lazy— Only stranded. Not unskilled— Only unseen. Standing at life’s marketplace With value nobody seems ready to buy. Each rejection writes its name Across my confidence, Until even mirrors begin to ask If diligence is enough. Yet somewhere beneath this tired heart Innovation still breathes— Bruised, yes, But refusing burial. Because I know storms do not ask permission Before they pass, And even...