Àbèbí Agbó, Omo Agbó máàtí, Omo agbérekete f’Óba! Gbígbé lèyín ngbé, Omolómo ní nru igi oko. Among the Yorùbá of Òyó, oríkì are poetic utterances recited to honor a person. It is an affirmation of a person’s essence, their history, and their connection to their

     “Hi! My name is Sarah Parker.” She says and you smile at her.      “I’m Ese Osemwenke.” You reply, trying hard to stop yourself from asking her if her middle name is Jessica. She is pretty, with shoulder-length hair the color of corn

Emma Emeh (2001). Acrylic on Canvass I sit quietly, holding his tiny body in my arms. The fever that wracked his body last night has left him cold today. He hasn’t cried in days and I long to hear that

Little One, I promise you this one thing: We will never go through this again, ever.  We're shedding the very last tears. We're breaking for the very last time. We might have done this a million times before, But it stops now. Here. Today.  So, grieve, And cry, And mend, And heal

She is half in profile, looking away from the viewer at some intriguing out-of-view object, an almost imperceptible smile on her lips like she is sharing a private joke with that intriguing out-of-view object, or subject. There is a serenity

Identity. Belongingness. I’ve been asked countless times, in different forms, who I am. How do you see yourself? What do you identify with or as? Where are you from? Who are you? I’ve been told not to lose myself, not to

We made The Oath. The three of us. A three-fold cord that cannot be broken. We did it for love. For life. For justice. For what was right. For all we stood for and believed in. We swore to uphold Truth and Righteousness. We beat our chests and declared

I looked into the eyes of a mad woman, And it took me into her mind, And it was oh so beautiful, and serene, With soft, tender places, Offering comfort from the crazy world without, And it begged to linger, Take a rest, Put my feet