Keenly watching the gradual fire of a young, promising man like Toby, one would definitely foresee an explosion like this. It was an ominous truth, expected to drop like a bombshell that it has always conceived but well, perchance, it came way too quick and everyone was caught in that spool of shock.

Toby Abiodun, master word player, reckoned for the depth his punny puns weighs along, especially in an era backed by an unwavering argument of watery, non essence punchlines. I met Toby for the first time on Friday and I am left wondering how a seeming introverted soul yet lives in a body filled with heavy truths.

Art especially writing and the performance angle of it has always been the most feared. The advent of blood thirsty, eye ripping radicals were enough cause for tremor, it takes much more than gallantry to face evil in the face especially in a space where evil, like palm oil has always risen atop water, triumphed over lights. But like we all know, the victory of Bashorun Gaa wasn't for long, these chaos are momentary. Toby Abiodun brings to our face yet that mind blowing, thought provoking audio "The Revolution".

“...The country where I am from is called chaos...everyone speaks the language of'd think murder is fine art, the way boys have learnt to draw guns..."
Yes, that was an opening excerpt from the audio and I am here, wondering what is going through your mind. That was the same thing that went through my mind — uncoated, subtle, wild. For a non conventionalist as I am, pictures speaks a thousand proverbs to me. Toby deliberately created scenes and imageries in our mind...Toby left me hanging in between the sea and the devil, that dicey question of swimming away for safety or facing the devil totally. If there's one question that Toby didn't particularly answer or tried so hard to shove off, was that of the nature of the revolution, who will spearhead this revolution and when the revolution is ripe. Toby deliberately threw our disaster to our very face, a reference to the past, a replay of the present and a prophecy, unfolding.

I am not being sycophantic here but I strongly believe that Toby's The Revolution is one of the strongest voices the art and hearts of my country people has ever had. Amidst the humor of Lasisified brothers, Toby remind us of the fact that danger still lingers around, we are still soaked in the blood of our kiths and kins, home is still the mouth of a shark. This work is a re affirmation of the age long tradition of a revolution that will not be televised, one that will tear walls against walls and brutalise skins against mahoganies. One libe that would never leave my head is that in which he stated:
"...Our old men run for presidency while our young men run for their lives..."

It is not enough to try to beautify an already made beauty. The Revolution is not a plea neither is it actually an angry poem, this is grief expressed in the most sublime of manners. I would particularly desire a well shot visual of this work some days soon, that work would grace screens. Toby's The Revolution is a social catalyst. Even if Toby never writes a poem that surpasses the magic of that very one, I'm sure that poem is enough to keep his name on the soil of heavy truths and an uninterrupted timeline — war, crisis, death, radicalism.