The Man I May One Day Become
There’s a dream I have
Of the man I may one day become
I will start by telling you his name — Ovunakatogbuo
It was a name given to a bell in my village
During the war, it was rung to call meetings. Urgent meetings
The name means “Whoever has anything in their hand, toss it aside”
For me, the name will take on a slightly different meaning
It will tell people “Sit with me a while. Forget everything else. Listen.”
My friends and lovers will call me shorter forms of this name
“Ovunaka” for the days when things are giddy
When the air smells faintly of lavender
And smiles are not far from lips
“Togbuo” on the days when things are heavy
When there are fires to be put out
If you were to describe Ovunaka you would say
“He wears a headwrap when his hair isn’t braided
He has a ring on almost every finger
Occasionally there is some jewelry in his ear and nose
He wears a single gold chain — because as an Igbo man this is a stereotype he is fine with
He likes to talk with people about music, love, and literature over a joint
You would describe Ovunaka as all these things and you would not be lying
In this dream, I live among friends who share the same ideals as me
We all preach the gospel according to Oliver DiCoque because he was the one who sang “Bili ka mbili” — live and let live.
I will tell all that want to listen about my views on life
On how I think Jesus was right on the money when he said to do onto others what you want to be done to you
I will say that music, literature, in fact, all art, is spiritual
I will tell them that we who are blessed and cursed with the gift of creating are custodians
Stories find their way into this world in different forms through us
We are vessels living in a world filled with people who need our art
And we do a disservice to them when we refuse or run away from creating
I will tell them to love — hard — and with everything they have
Because there really is no way else to truly live
“Love is the only human possibility” — James Baldwin taught me that.
In summary,
I live a life filled with travel, laughter, and sex.
But before I die, I will leave instructions for what must be done
It will be in a note somewhere in my room and it will say
“On the day that I die, burn my body
Spread the ashes close to the sea and play my music on disastrously loud speakers
Cry if you feel the need to but also, dance.
Have a large feast.”
And at the end of the night
When everyone is filled with wine and walking home in not so straight lines
You will say to each other
“Ovunaka lived a good life”
And I hope to God that you won’t be lying.
