Lukman
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I See My People, But I Don’t Hear My People
For the last couple of years, I have always felt that something was missing for me. Some kind of disconnect between my soul and the city I have lived in for many years. I am talking about Addis Ababa, the city where I have spent more of my adult life than even my hustling-bustling, fast-paced, MC Oluomo and Sego-disturbing, Malaika and Atawewe-praising Lagos Island. When I say Lagos Island, I mean Ita Faji, Agarawu, Adeniji Adele, Okepopo, Oluwole, Patey and…
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AI Will Deskill You
Yes. Sooner or later, it will. And there isn’t much that can be done about it. You’ll put up a good fight, but trust me, you will eventually be almost completely deskilled. Your productivity, however, will improve. You’ll do more with less: fewer resources, less time, even fewer hands. In some cases, your hands might be the only ones. A few days ago I was talking with a friend who is an associate professor at the University of Oslo, and…
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So Are You Muslim Muslim….Or Just Muslim?
About 5 full moons and 3 eclipses later, I just remembered I had an online village square, with yours truly the only inhabitant. I am the king and also a subject. I am sitting here on the train at Greenhithe, held up by a red light on the track, en route somewhere in Central London. While we wait for the red light, green light Squid Game to end, I remembered a conversation I had with a friend a few days…
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I Plead Guilty
Like a child learning to walk, we fall, get up, hold on to rails, and sometimes still tumble down a full flight of stairs. Sometimes we cry. Other times, we dust our knickers and get right back into the grind. This time, though, it’s with life. There are a few things I want to publicly plead guilty to—habits I picked up during my “falling down flights of stairs” phase. Don’t worry, I’m not going to jail… I know that for…
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I Hold My Breath
The world can be blurry But the truth is not Written words can be fuzzy But speech is not I am forced to hold my breath For moments I am not expecting My shadow has my soul at gunpoint Compelled to lay flowers on my nemesis And start fires on the graves of my friends As if I am a bunch of bliss and abyss (of inferno) Crammed into flesh I’m wrigling out my heart For the last bit of…
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Let’s Talk About the “72 Virgins”
Andromache of Scythia, the main character in The Old Guard movie series, once said something interesting. She said that sometimes confusion can be helpful. This topic of the 72 virgins “in the Qur’an” is an example of when confusion has not helped. Let me tell you how this confusion came about. And yes… Ramadan Mubarak. It’s day 27 today, and I am somewhere in Pandora, cohabiting with 6- to 8-foot-tall, dark-skinned humanoid species. I am in Juba, South Sudan. The…
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Of Reunion, Games, Laughter, and a Bowl of Chuffnuts
Happy New Year…! It’s 2026, and I am not about to get into some numerology conspiracies about the significance of this year. However, I know for a fact that no new plans will be made for this year, in this year. All desired outcomes for ’26 were set in the last quarter of ’25. So, 2026 is the year of action. So, I have been on a holiday against my will. The Mrs co-opted me into going on a trip across…
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At 42, I am Going Back To Omelas
Before you judge me, hear me out first. So, today, I turn 42 years, the year of perfect balance between two odds. I know people usually talk about new strategic directions and goals when they turn 40, but for me, I didn’t feel that way. It felt more like a normal birthday without the need for any deep introspection or a year to drop quotable quotes. I just enjoyed the day with family, friends and foes. I, however, feel so…
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Cases and Spaces
So this poem is for cases and spaces hope laced on bright and happy faces Its for bravery That made us fly over oceans, rivers and sees to convene here at the IDRC… This poem is for children The ones whose lives we have gathered to improve Its for educators, the ones whose pains we want to soothe Its for support To those officials whose days have been blue This poem is for us For our willingness to give…
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Moments and Monuments
Of asterisks and obelisks. History carved in monuments. Of numbers and their mantissa Tracking heartbeats in sync And of wailing and tired hearts Yearning for a new secession of the pleb Of the constant quest for direction Parents being led by those they birthed Of clothed bodies and naked souls Of unknown friends. Of known foes. Of statues made by earth and fire. And by zephyr, carrying the scents of tulips and Jasmine Of moments. Written with quills or engraved…