Title & author
The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi
Synopsis
By asserting the death of the protagonist from the very beginning, The Death of Vivek Oji uses curiosity to grab readers’ attention. Emezi’s chosen narration style-- a combination of flexible timeline and point of view-- not only urges readers to continue onward to find the answers they seek, but also explores Vivek’s identity through the eyes of those who both love and fear him*.
Who should read this book
Fans of Everything I Never Told You and This Is How It Always Is
What we’re thinking about
How do we protect those we know in LGBTQIA+ community? Selfishly, or authentically?
Trigger warning(s)
Physical violence, eating disorders, self-harm, slurs, mental health, transphobia
“They burned down the market on the day Vivek Oji died,” begins Akwaeke Emezi (Emezi, 3). But who is ‘they’? Was the market burned down in a reaction to Vivek’s death? How did he die? And why are we starting at the end of the story as opposed to the beginning? These are just some of the questions that the opening line of The Death of Vivek Oji (Riverhead Books, 2020) compels readers to ask. But before addressing these questions, the story flashes backwards to years before-- back to before Vivek’s parents even meet and to an introduction of Ahunna, Vivek’s grandmother. Emezi’s chosen narration style-- a combination of flexible timeline and point of view-- not only urges readers to continue onward to find the answers they seek, but also explores Vivek’s identity through the eyes of those who both love and fear him*.
Narrated through alternating points of view, the novel puts us into various character’s heads, but rarely Vivek’s, exposing their fears of how Vivek’s identity might reflect upon them. The novel switches between first person (featuring chapters from Osita’s point of view and (short, blunt) chapters from Vivek’s) and with a somewhat omniscient third person that highlights the thoughts of Vivek’s parents, friends, and others. Osita, Vivek’s cousin, believes Vivek is “stranger than I was admitting to either of us,” which “made me uncomfortable” (59). Possessing a turbulent childhood relationship, the cousins’ ups and downs are detailed through Osita’s chapters. He questions Vivek’s persona, unable to acknowledge what he sees right in front of him. As they grow closer once again, “it felt as if we had stepped out of everything we knew before and into something else entirely, as if what had just happened couldn’t have happened on the other side, only on this side” (127). Osita admits that their reunion could not happen beyond the confines of the space they're in, alluding that it will not be public. While perhaps he fears for his cousin’s safety as he argues, the shame he’s felt about Vivek suggests he fears for his own image as well, afraid for what his cousin’s identity-- and his acceptance of that identity-- would reveal about his own.
Vivek’s parents and friends are the same-- they claim to fear for his safety, but their inner thoughts reveal otherwise. “‘No,’” Kavita, Vivek’s mother begins. “‘We can’t plait it. I’ll just tie it back so it stops falling into your face. You know that drives your father crazy’” (62). Kavita refuses to plait Vivek’s hair, despite him giving permission for her to do so, as she is more concerned about what her husband might say than her son’s happiness. And later, she wonders, “‘What if we made a mistake somewhere and that’s why he ended up like this?’” She and her husband Chika remain more concerned with what Vivek’s identity might say about them, worried that he is a reflection of how they raised him.
When Vivek’s friends are confronted with telling the truth after his death, they worry. “‘If you tell her, all our parents are going to know. That means they’re going to ask us questions. All of us. Why we allowed it. Why we didn’t tell them’” (187). Although they’ve supported Vivek’s true self, they’ve also kept it hidden within their small circle. They do not want to deal with their parents’ confrontation, with how it will make them appear for “allowing” it. To varying degrees, all of these narrators refuse to accept-- or admit-- who Vivek is.
While some might argue a more traditional narrative style would allow readers to more smoothly grasp Emezi’s tale, the immediate claim of Vivek’s death and stylistic decisions that follow are what instill curiosity, a driving force to finish the story. And in the end, when the cause of Vivek’s physical death may leave the reader frustrated as to why the death is set up to be more dramatic than it actually is, perhaps that is precisely Emezi’s point: that while Vivek’s friends, family, lover all try to protect him, try to keep him (and themselves) safe by denying who he truly is, in the end if he is to die regardless of their influence, what is the point? Why do we as a society make it so challenging for someone to thrive and to be happy? To be themselves? “‘We can’t keep insisting he was who we thought he was, when he wanted to be someone else and he died being that person’” Kavita says near the end (225). We can’t impress our expectations, our fears for someone and even for ourself, on others. Because in the end, there’s only one chance for them to be who they truly are.
*SPOILER WARNING:
We acknowledge and support that by the end of the novel Vivek identifies as Nnemdi (she/her/hers). To avoid spoilers for potential readers, we use he/him/his pronouns in this piece and recognize that on page 217, Juju says “Sometimes he asked us to call him by another name; he said we could refer to him as either she or he, that he was both.” If you have comments and/or concerns with this approach, please do send us a message-- we would love your feedback.
“And every day it was difficult, walking around and knowing that people saw me one way, knowing that they were wrong, so completely wrong, that the real me was invisible to them. It didn’t even exist to them.”
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