The Past Is Sandwiched Between Our Present and Future
History is never past. It is always present, living and sleeping with us. At night, my African ancestors follow me. I see a woman with water carried on her head. I know her. She has one baby suckling at her breast. Her other one is still mourned back at her home. It relieves her to walk for water. There she has made friends with a frog. It is bright pink and black. She leans down to the water with cupped hands and drinks. Above her where she does not see is a lion.
While reading "Imitation," a short story by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and looking at Benin Masks mentioned by her in the short story, I had an urge to try and capture Africa with my pencil. Of course, that's a silly and almost obscene thought, but Adichie writes in such a way that Africa and its people can not go ignored. I have to stop, think, picture it. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is wondrous.
knopfdoubleday.com/imprint/vintage/
l3.ulg.ac.be/adichie/
"Nkem picks up the mask and presses her face to it; it is cold, heavy, lifeless. Yet when Obiora talks about it--and all the rest--he makes them seem breathing, warm."
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