Ayobami Famurewa

PublisherSaraba2009
It was in the hope of mystic possibilities and unimagined realities that this issue of Saraba was published, and again, it is a major triumph. This issue is a victory on many fronts—and fonts: there are more distinguished writers published, and the consequences are brilliantly wrought write-ups. And of course, as always, the Emerging outweigh the Established. Here at Saraba, we stay true to our creed. By giving each of our issue themes, we set out to exhaust these themes, and perhaps proffer new perspectives to our readers, of course after having resonated the obvious. With this Economy issue, Saraba is ...

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PublisherSaraba2010
Now I can‘t precisely remember when I conceded to Agatha‘s impression of the Colloquium of New Writing. Perhaps it was after she made the statement, or earlier, when I walked into the programme venue to find the organizers to be fellow students, or later when a facilitator began his monologue on the death of Nigerian literature, on how our gathering that fateful day in September, 2008 was, in fact, a requiem of some sort, or much later when the grand finale event was a grim shadow lacking both the enthusiasm and impact of the opening day…

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PublisherSaraba2010
First a caveat: the story of the delta is tricky. One fraught with a rigmarole of details and bilious emotions, but must still be told nonetheless. We owe it to ourselves, to literature and, most of all, to humanity. And what is the best way to dispel this ambiguity: to begin by saying that the tale is rather a simple one. The details are numerous, disorganised, recurring. The Delta is the nexus of the Nigerian economy and the fulcrum of our existence. The Niger Delta is a gift as well as a curse, our plague as much as our pride. The game ...

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PublisherSaraba2010
Let’s imagine that God is to be traced with a golden crayon held in the shaky hands of an experienced infant. The infant asserts the moral cum spiritual right to tracing, and as Margaret Atwood once affirmed, God is a good listener. He doesn’t interrupt. In our case, he didn’t. There was tenacity in our vision for this Issue; if you wish, a tenaciousness. In attempting to define God, we came to the same conclusion as Gary Snyder, who wrote in relation to a poem, “The poem is seen from all sides, everywhere at once.” In this respect, God is seen ...

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PublisherSaraba2010
We think of technology as a basket of broken eggs, which must hatch into chicks. Our contemplation is that we must accept disadvantage as advantage, that we must lead ourselves into a den of a lion, and sleep close to its mane. The starting point was an identification of eternity. It‘s difficult to agree with James Blunt: ―Forever is just a minute to me.‖ For, in the initial analysis, technology is to us what a mustard seed is to a sea. There is, we beg, no specificity to an outlook on technology. But what does an unwholesome consideration entail? How can we ...

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PublisherSaraba2011
There is a certain way of perpetuating the discourse of food: relishing a meal while predetermining the next. This might be the subliminal rationale behind the Prequel Issue to the Food Issue, the culinary delight of hors d’oeuvre. This philosophy might as well promote gluttony, one of the seven deadly sins, but Temitayo Olo nlua’s piece pointedly asserts this behaviour as popular during the ghastly military era that beleaguered Nigeria a republic ago. And that our Food Issue is timely in re-ushering Muslim faithfuls from their stint with abstinence, the mi- lieu is primed to receive Saraba’s muse on food as ...

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PublisherSaraba2011
Because music is grey and sits on air, intangibility, neither here nor there. Because music is everything and yet ungraspable…

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PublisherSaraba2012
It is arguable that justice is as sweet as revenge, or even sweeter. Justice, after all, is civilized revenge meted with a communal consent. Humanity has a raving appetite for Justice. Nigeria, like many countries, is however starved of justice. Jus- tice cannot be found in the rusted lead-pipes of judicial bureau- cracy, in the cavernous courtrooms with termite-eaten wooden docks. Justice has retired from these places. Justice has relocat- ed to the jungle, to the hearts of hapless civilians, to the aggre- gation of market stalls, to rundown beer parlours and still, Justice is neither satis ed nor safe. Justice ...

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