The death of Vivek Oji

The title of this book already gave it away (or so I thought). It is called the death of Vivek Oji so we all know the main character, Vivek Oji is dead. This novel does not stop at telling us that Vivek is dead, it wants you to love Vivek, it wants you to experience the character, it wants you to live as Vivek and the book was quite successful in placing the required emotions in me. I felt Vivek, I felt their pain, I felt their joy and I was thankful that this book allowed me to feel it all.

The story starts with a brief introduction to Vivek Oji’s parents, Chika the dad and Kavita their mother who is of Indian descent. There was mention of his grandmother who was loved and cherished by all who we came to see later was deeply connected to the grandson she never met. It was stated more than once that the grandmother died the day Vivek was born. There was a significance to that, we grow with Vivek and start to see when the world started to fail him when people started calling him weird and how he began to shut down and become a shell of himself.

Vivek’s relationship with his mother like a lot of queer people was sadly just a surface level relationship. There was no doubt that she loved her child but she did not know her child. She did not allow herself know her child, so can she really say she loved her child when she did not know who they were. She got hints of who Vivek was, she saw the changes, she saw the signs but like most mothers she was quite comfortable with ignoring the changes so as not to destroy the image that she had for her child in her head. Vivek, understanding the environment they were in continued to hide their true self, they never told their mom their pronouns, they never felt safe enough to be themselves.

After their death, the mother was shown pictures as evidence of the life Vivek had outside of her home, she wept saying she never knew, saying that Vivek’s friends had influenced him. She was quickly shot down by one of Vivek’s friends saying this attitude that you are displaying now is the reason Vivek felt unsafe. You do not own your kids, they are not your property for you to create the way you want and discard when they do not follow your path. Her excuse was she did not know. An excuse that would never hold because she could see it. When your child changes or is changing you see it, you feel it, you might ignore it because it is uncomfortable but you are not unaware.

This novel allows you to appreciate the power of a safe bubble created by ones chosen family. Vivek would have died sad, alone, and depressed if they did not meet their chosen family. They opened Vivek up and gave them the love and the softness they deserved. They provided Vivek a space for them to be their true self without criticism or judgement. They provided a safe bubble for Vivek to exist and play and laugh even though that bubble later became too small for them because they wanted to show off their truth to the world. The bubble was safe while it lasted. In the bubble there was trust, there was laughter, there was joy. I appreciated this bubble. We all deserve to have a chosen family.

I do not assume to imagine whet it feels like to be a trans woman. I do not assume knowledge of what transitioning feels like. I understand freedom. I understand happiness. I understand the joy and freedom that comes with living your truth. As a Nigerian queer woman, I understand the way Vivek had to hide their true self from their family. Sadly, I understand dressing up the way you feel most comfortable to be met with hostility and disgust from outsiders. I understand the need for your chosen family to constantly check on you not solely out of care but also out of fear that you might go out in our homophobic country and never return home.

I understood his death, I understood the need for his killer to hide, the mistake made out of fear that resulted in the death of Vivek. I understood that the lover and the killer are one. I wanted to be mad at the killer but I understood his fear. I understood his need to run and hide, his need to keep a remembrance of Vivek with him and return to the grave the symbol of the shame at the end.

I wish for a world that allows people to be different and to be themselves. I wish people did not act out of fear and anger when they see things they did not understand. I wish they would let it go and leave people to be happy in their difference. I wish for a loving world, a loving country. I wish for parents that see beyond the image they have for their kids and actually saw their kids for who they are. I wish for parents that take time to know their kids and know their kids as individuals very separate from them not just as extensions of themselves to dump all their dreams and aspirations on. I wish for active love in our society. I wish for softness.

I wish for a world were coming out and all the anxiety that comes with it is absent and queer people can just exist and love and live. I wish for a world were queer kids are not met with depression and they feel alone because no one gets them. I wish for a world were Vivek Oji and people like them live their truth and embrace their happiness everyday wearing whatever makes them feel happy and whole.