AUGUST 2020
This series focuses on reconciling with my direct ancestral connections through my parents’ relationship with Nigerian culture. The photo subject is Femi Olaleye, a good friend.
A pre-workout stretch strengthens the physical and mental foundations before a grueling workout... Indeed, learning about my ancestors has been a grueling endeavor. Seeking out credible resources is one thing, but unlearning the idea that African history doesn't matter is another...After a tough workout, I feel healthy, proud, and simply good about myself.
My mother is at peace when she’s driving. During such times, she would maximize the speaker volume as she listens to classic, hymnal Igbo music. Perhaps she found comfort in the melodies native to her ancestral culture…
Unless asked, my parents rarely talk about Nigerian history. Perhaps they don't want to dwell on the country's tumultuous past. I wonder if they're ashamed of it...So far removed from it, I'm fascinated with the history. That fascination is the bedrock on which I can hold my head high, and walk with pride.
My parents assimilated to the outside world, and maintained culture at home (or in private): Suits for work but opt for wrappers when lounging at home; Understand British and American politics, but stay abreast of Nigerian affairs in private; dine at local restaurants but enjoy Fufu at the kitchen table. Survive outside, live at home.