Unto where should we carry our cross, Captain Kenya?

Back in the day, we were happy-go-lucky brass youth, savouring the pleasures of Afrobeat. It was the midday of African self-awareness. A cultural restoration was in progress. James Brown of American Soul had taught us how to say, “Say louder, I’m black and I’m proud.” Our Black pride would climax in the Second World Black and African Festival of Arts and Culture (FESTAC) ’77, in Lagos Nigeria.

Everyone who mattered in the African arts was there. Dancers, songsters, writers, dramatists, sculptors, potters, painters – virtually everybody. Our people assembled in Ogaland to celebrate legacies that had travelled through diverse times and spaces to reach them. It was a veritable celebration of a heritage.