Violence constricts, imposes, and erases; sexuality, at its healthiest, opens, invites, and affirms. Yet both live in the same human body, shaped by …
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Violence constricts, imposes, and erases; sexuality, at its healthiest, opens, invites, and affirms. Yet both live in the same human body, shaped by history, culture, and power. By Femi Oladeji Growing up in London, violence wasn’t an abstract idea — it was a daily atmosphere, woven from socio-economic hardship and racial discrimination. As Oluwafemi Oladeji put it in 1984, "I don’t exist, I am part of this," a line that captured the erasure of individual identity under the weight of collective struggle. The unwritten code was simple: survive or be consumed. My inner mantra became: Always be awake. Always stay ahead. At home, the absence of verbal aggression didn’t erase the survival reflex. Instead, a quiet defensiveness grew — an ever-alert beast, ready to react. Frustration and anger hardened into resilience. Arts, music, and sport offered temporary release, but adolescence brought a deeper unease — a hollow space where some undefined part of me should have been. Without gui
6. November 2025
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