Sometimes, I try to tell a story like my aunty, Chimamanda Ngozi-Adichie would do it. Like, you know, create a compelling and gripping scenario of how Tolani, an effeminate boy struggled with expressing himself in a world scared by religious bigotry and sanctimonious cultures…
I imagine her writing how Tolani made A in a course in the university, but couldn’t enjoy the success because three people who also passed were girls. Guys congratulated the four girls who passed – they must be study partners. After all, what’s odd in them being together. He couldn’t do anything sexual even if he wanted to.