I often return to memories of my childhood with my brother Wale in Gbagada Phase 2. I still remember coming home after school and looking out our large window upstairs, curious about what life was like beyond the horizon. These moments are specific to my childhood, but when I share them in different corners of the world, I see recognition in people’s eyes. Some things are universal in their specificity. I see people think of their own days of playing football barefoot in the streets, trying not to let the ball enter the gutter, or kicking the ball over the fence and having to go to the neighbors to retrieve it. Our stories are ours, but after they’re told, they take on a life of their own. They travel. They connect us.
More, here.



























