My name is Phio Kenosi I was born to a jolly woman who, bless her soul, did not know that she was having a headache for a child. When I was a kid I am reported to have hated anything remotely feminine with a passion to the extent that drinking out of the same cup as a girl gave me the hibbies and I thought girls had cooties, so you see problem child. I played with “boys” toys and until recently mom didn’t know I gave my cousin my Barbie doll when we were kids in exchange for a goblin and gargoyle action figure. All my best friends were all boys, still are to this day and everything made sense in that way, I just knew I wasn’t a girl and had no real concept of anything else.
I have lived an interesting life, I was allowed to express myself after they grew tired of trying to “doll” me up. The perfect ‘daughter dare I say, once they saw that wasn’t going to work we sort of just decided that I understood what felt good on my skin and society hadn’t peeped in to who I was yet and therefore I was deemed acceptable because of my childhood. I could wear pants in Church and at funerals which was and still is considered a taboo [insert face palm and eye roll emoji], without realizing it I was privy to a space I would slowly be expelled from simply on the base that I did not agree with their notion of what it meant to be someone in particular.
When society decided I must leave my childhood whiles behind and join the big people’s table in all honesty I was not expecting it. I was still for the most part a child and I still am said child, who knew nothing about this person I was supposed to be. I was to start wearing dresses to Church and funerals, at family events I couldn’t go gather firewood with the other boy cousins, I was not allowed to handle power tools and I couldn’t take part in activities I previously enjoyed, I was now dainty and delicate. The people made a decision for me about who I am at this point and I was to bend to this will, the most insulting part of this was when the charades started no one came to explain anything to me, to explain why they thought the world ought to work the way they were suggesting.
It was at this point that I started to question God, I mean why make me different only to try and beat it out of me? Try and make me suffer for the fact that the brain and the body did not correlate? Try to take away that which was not singular in thought process as its world? I decided that god was not my friend, not only because he was not replying my texts (Prayers), but also because his representatives seem to all want to prove that ‘God’ made no mistakes and yet I was still classified as a mistake. My mother wanted so hard to help because she did not understand, at first they all thought it was a phase, then trauma hit me and they thought it was that and then they thought that I was bewitched (of which I do not believe in). They listened to the naysayers, the charlatans and all the weird, toxic and harmful messaging that demonized me before them and therefore led to this culmination of what and who I am in regards to religion and society.
I remember once my mother asked me to go to church with her, at this point I did things to please them and get them off my back. It was all so heavy on my soul but I did it anyway in the name of benevolence and family honor. This man calling himself the man of god and preaching out of someone's backyard, under a tent that could seemingly collapse at any time, held up by poles and the floor littered with mats which were a collection from people’s houses all for them to gather and listen to a man ordained by the church in South Africa, with his ever pleasing Sotho accent. My mother had tried to explain our situation to him, he called us up to the middle of the circle and he proceeded to tell me that I had a demonic spirit of a bull, that I was stubborn and I needed to be delivered from this spirit to which he continued to force my body to the floor with about 3 other strong armed men, he blew into my face and proceeded to call out the demon in me. Looking back now it seems much like an outer body experience because I remember thinking to myself, this can’t be right and only one scripture was in my head at this point, “God is Love and he who does not know love does not know God” John something. It felt like I was being attacked and therefore it hurt me fundamentally, down to my core. I must add that I had flu for the whole week after that.
In my current state I am non-religious and yet I still have nightmares about the church, every time I cough I keep thinking of that one man that told me hell was my portion, there is deep scarring even for those around me. Imagine hearing this as a parent, the amount of panic that ensues in your brain when you’ve been hoping to save your child from the clutches of the devil. Being told your family is cursed with such a spirit and that it dates back to times of ancient instead of rationalizing you proceed to panic further. We will never be over this time and I will not lie and say that I have fully forgiven, the cold sweats at night and demons I see when I close my eyes say otherwise because there are more stories where these came from.
I am tired though, I wish to never have explain myself to anyone ever again and I am getting there, and there is hope in my bones still. When I went to varsity I was the happiest little gay child you ever did see. I found other gay people and watched a lot of gay content online, I connected to online communities and I stayed awkward. I have open honest conversations with my parents about all the things I know of myself, I am still piecing myself together but I am not afraid to share this with others.
I remember I was on YouTube going through my list of Queer content creators one time and I came across a black Non Binary, Asexual content creator, talking about all these things that I knew myself to be, they helped me put words to feelings I was having have been having instead of just saying I’m not a girl and people assuming that that means I am a boy it also meant that I could exist in this blank space. I am a research body and so I decided to research all the ways one could exist in this space. People say there is western influence and the truth is we just didn’t have the words to say this is who we are and now they’re here so we use them. We also never had people that look like us, living their truth and telling us that its ok to exist in this manner and as we are and when I saw that this person existed and I listened to them and things made sense to me I knew I was home and I was not alone.
I had always known who I was it made others uncomfortable, people being confused means they try to silence you and take away your individual stake in the world. There is a song by Wrebel it’s called The Village and the depiction of it is that there is a boy who is trapped in these circumstance where he can’t be himself but he becomes himself in the end and there is a statement that struck a chord with me they say “There is nothing wrong with you, it’s true, There’s something wrong with the village” I still cry to this day when I hear this song because I will forever agree with this statement. I will also shout it from the rooftops for anyone who needs to hear it. In case you missed it my name is Phio Kenosi and I am a Trans Non-Binary individual who believes we can fix the village and there’s nothing wrong with me and others like me.
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