‘Vagabonds!’ Is a Force to Be Reckoned With
A passionate and positive rant on ‘Vagabonds!’ by Eloghosa Osunde
Vagabonds! by Eloghosa Osunde is a curation of an eclectic mix of stories that focus on the lives of some seemingly unconventional occupants of Lagos. These stories are told in an unadulterated and audacious manner.
At the start of the book, preceding the stories are definitions of the word ‘vagabond’. Asides from the expected dictionary definitions, Nigerian definitions are also provided to elucidate.
These definitions (which are accompanied by synonyms so vile they have to be redacted) imply a connection between ‘vagabonds’ and persons who act in unacceptable ways— specifically the likes of crossdressers, homosexuals, etc — and do so publicly. This lays the groundwork for the rest of the book and hints at critical themes.
Osunde makes use of magical realism to express these themes and it permeates nearly every aspect of the book as alternate realms are revealed to the reader. We see ghosts, the afterlife, and even the city of Lagos personified.
The setting of the book plays a heavy role so much so that the city, Lagos, or better yet, Èkó, is a character in itself that possesses godlike power and whose decisions carry an enormous weight.
It is undeniable that the stories in this book carry so much power.
Throughout the book, an omnipresent narrator, Tatafo (translated to mean ‘gossip’) uses a conversational tone to take the readers through the stories. Tatafo is a monitoring spirit created by the cityspirit Èkó to do some of his dirty work. It is through Tatafo’s narratives that we get to know Èkó as a draconian, destructive, bloodthirsty, and money-loving dictator.
Before starting this book, I saw that it would be better to approach it as a collection of short stories rather than a novel and I agree owing to the broken narration and the extensive number of stories and characters we meet.
Intermittently, Tatafo appears to give a sort of introductory speech as a way of presenting the next set of characters and stories.
The stories explore a vast range of issues and themes in Nigeria such as class, love, sexuality, gender, grief, corruption, greed, religion, and dealing with and surviving life as an outsider in a city and country that loathes outsiders.
In all of it, I like how explicitly Nigerian this book is. Osunde seamlessly blends in pidgin English with English and enriches the narrative with Nigerian slang and language so much so that it might be a little difficult to follow for readers who aren’t familiar with it. But those who are will probably find it relatable, nodding their heads in agreement at times.
It is undeniable that the stories in this book carry so much power and are bound to leave a mark long after you close it. However, there are five, in particular, I’d like to briefly touch on.
To begin with is the first story that explores Nigerian folklore and myth. We meet Thomas whose uncle tells him stories passed through generations that rarely, if ever, have factual backings.
Thomas’ uncle’s obsession with and strong belief in these tales fuels Thomas’ own obsession and faith. Thomas learns rules to live by like never going to the market before Christmas as there are people looking to steal body parts by merely touching you. To avoid bending over to look between your legs at the night market. To be wary of destiny snatchers, or picking money from the floor lest you turn to a tuber of yam, etcetera.
This story was exciting for me because of its deep exploration of Nigerian anecdotes we grow up hearing and what a strong belief in it can do to you. It also had an eerie undertone to it that made it read like a creepy but fun Halloween type story.
“We can sweep anything under the rug if you just pay the right person the right amount.”
Before the next story, another of Tatafo’s interludes titled, ‘DEMOCRAZY’ comes up. Here, Tatafo tells us “We can sweep anything under the rug if you just pay the right person the right amount” to convey what is done in Lagos in the name of money.
This is the perfect prelude for the next story ‘Johnny Just Come’. Osunde’s title is derived from the initialism ‘JJC’ which stands for ‘Johnny Just Come’ and is popularly used in Nigerian Universities to refer to newbies or freshcomers. This title depicts that by moving to Lagos in search of ‘greener pastures’, Johnny is in unfamiliar territory.
We’re introduced to a Lagos big man working in the organ trafficking market. After getting deeply involved in the convoluted life of the aforementioned big man, Johnny eventually finds himself in a precarious situation.
The story blatantly gives us a view into the gory and brutal inner workings of the lives of the rich. It’s a nod to the saying ‘everything is not what it seems’ and begets the question is money enough to fill the parts of yourself you lose to acquire it?
Next is ‘After god fear women’. This is a phrase usually used by men to enunciate their perceived ‘wickedness of women’ especially in romantic relationships. But the story offers a new meaning.
In this world, not unlike ours, women are abused by the men in their lives. The need for men to carry out violent actions towards women is due to an ‘itch’ they need to scratch which is pacified when they act on this need. But the more they give in, the stronger the itch until they are consumed by it and twitching like addicts.
One day, a mysterious wind descends which scoops women away when they tell stories of their abuse. With a sizeable number of women disappearing every day, panic ensues over the prospect of a life without women.
This story offers an optimistic angle for oppressed groups. The prospect of being taken away to a hopefully better place and leaving the oppressor to suffer from the absence of the oppressed. The story manages to deftly portray the contrasting kinds of fear expressed by both parties.
Finally, and arguably the most poignant section of the book for me began with an intermission where Tatafo says “Where were you on the thirteenth of January 2014, when that law was passed?”
The Same-Sex Marriage Prohibition Act which criminalised homosexuality was passed. Reading those words made me realise how undeterred and oblivious I and so many people were to what happened. Of how normal that day seemed when the lives of so many were falling apart.
The next story ‘But if everybody is normal, is it then good?’ consists of six different stories about navigating queerness in Nigeria.
My favourite was of fourteen years old Juniour who struggles with the reiteration by his Sunday school teacher that God hates boys who love boys. Osunde documents his struggles assiduously — his fervent prayers and wishes to God that eventually lead to him demanding death — that the reader can’t help but feel his pain. It all reaches a climax where it seems as if Juniour finally finds peace when he hears God say, “Can’t you see it’s not us? It’s not us hating you.”
“Where were you on the thirteenth of January 2014, when that law was passed?”
The last and my absolute favourite story is ‘GOLD’. In the midst of stories about the turbulent hardships of queerness in Nigeria, this story offers respite.
It portrays the life of Gold whose mother supports her along every single step of her transition journey. The love her mother shows her is so fierce and unconditional that Gold is afraid it’s all too good to be true and is constantly waiting for ‘the other shoe to drop.’
In the final scene, while in their living room, the news announces the newly passed law. When Gold falls to the floor in fear, saying they’re coming for her, Gold’s mother holds her and says: “I hope you understand what I’m telling you. If you will die young because this country is mad, may I die the second before you. Because I will not bury my child, you hear? I will not.”
Osunde doesn’t spare words and lets the difficult emotions shine through. It’s hard not to get your heart broken. There are so many more amazing stories. About ‘fairygodgirls’ who watch over and help struggling girls. More beautiful queer love stories. Hypocritical politicians who get what’s coming for them, etcetera.
In the end, there’s a grand finale that’s too complex to explain but emphasises the message: all oppression is linked and also the importance of carving out safe spaces together.
This book is for those who have been deemed outsiders, vagabonds. And it says, regardless of constant violent attempts at erasure, queer people, the alternative, the unconventional, the oppressed, and the forgotten exist. They matter and so do their stories.
