This is an article written by award winning writer Chimamanda Ngozi
Adichie titled ‘Why can’t he just be like everyone else?’
I will call him Sochukwuma. A
thin, smiling boy who liked to play with us girls at the university primary
school in Nsukka. We were young. We knew he was different, we said, ‘he’s not
like the other boys.’ But his was a benign and unquestioned difference; it was
simply what it was. We did not have a name for him. We did not know the word
‘gay.’
He
was Sochukwuma and he was friendly and he played oga so well that his side
always won. In secondary school, some boys in his class tried to throw
Sochukwuma off a second floor balcony. They were strapping teenagers who had
learned to notice, and fear, difference. They had a name for him. Homo.
They
mocked him because his hips swayed when he walked and his hands fluttered when
he