A village folk tale.
Yesterday we did more of washing. I mean manual washing of clothes and it was much I couldn't finish on time so I decided to do this very late.
I decided to paint based on the Images in my head, my village. Growing up as a kid our mother gathered us outside the compound and told us stories orally that I can still narrate one of the stories she told us one night.
I sat down to remember those moments when there was no mobile phone to distract family time. We lived in a village that had no electricity nor any electronic appliances to use. Thinking about those past moments gave rise to this painting below. I know it's quite poor but I can only improve.
When I started it I almost gave up because I was using a bike and I couldn't erase.
I kept going even though I wasn't bringing out the exact image.
Finally it began to look like something I imagined
Last but not the least I finished.
In those days we slept in tach houses, a man who slept in a zinc house was considered a rich man. I remembered those days today and that gave rise to what we have her.