The death of vivek oji book7/2/2023 ![]() ![]() You know what’s coming - it’s right there in the title - but you still hold out hope that Vivek will stay home, safe with his mom. If you’ve loved, lived with or had breakfast with a young man of a certain age, you can picture the scene: the vulnerable column of Vivek’s neck as he tips his head back, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulps. That act of putting nourishment into his body - it was such an alive thing to do.” Kavita remembered every second of it as if she was back at the table with him: the last time she would ever watch her child feed himself. (Hours later, she will find his broken body on her welcome mat.)Įmezi writes, “Of course he picked out his three cubes of sugar, let them dissolve into the milk of course he ate the cornflakes quickly - he’d never liked them soggy - then tipped the bowl to his mouth and drank the sweetened milk. It’s the moment when a grieving mother looks back on her son’s final meal at home. There are many moving passages in Akwaeke Emezi’s third novel, THE DEATH OF VIVEK OJI (Riverhead, 256 pp., $27), but one sticks with me. ![]()
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