Featuring the maverick Ejiogbe Twins Photographed by Owen Logan Told by Uzor Maxim Uzoatu What Nigeria offers in the Michael Jackson business stares you in the face. And here in black and white is our unique scheme. Believe it when I say we struck like tropical noonday thunder!
The craft bearing us came down on the Nigerian tarmac with a screech that shook the corporate capital. The megastar in me disembarked and kissed the soil of his ancestors before stepping on the red carpet and spreading his gloved hands wide, beckoning on the people to behold. There could not have been a greater epoch-making event, trapping the annals and centuries of
history and geography in one magic moment. Up from slavery and rising to the giddy heights of universal pop superstardom, Michael returned from death as the local boy made good. He is alive in me and I am here, on our terra firma of some 250 peoples imperiously cobbled together and named after the River Niger by Flora Shaw, the solicitous paramour of Governor-General Lugard, past master of indirect rule.
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