Bisi Alimi
The first time I saw Bisi Alimi online, I was in awe of a man so unafraid to claim himself and was most drawn to his fierce embodiment of what looked like a true, chosen and accepted identity. He wore his self with pride despite coming from a background where safety usually meant wearing the mask of conformity, only revealing one's true face in dark corners with a chosen family of others unmasked. Drawn by an unshakable curiosity, I reached out to him, eager to bear witness up close to his unapologetic self-possession in its purest form. To hear in his words how he came untethered and his journey from realisation to freedom.
On a rainy London day, I met Bisi Alimi in his home. We talked about masking, freedom, sexuality, identity, religion and whatever questions naturally unfolded from each answer. As we spoke, I took photos of him.
In Bisi's Unbecoming, I want to show his vulnerability in photos and the transformation from an outside masked face to an inside bare face.
On Masking
To mask or wear an outside face is to present a version of oneself that feels more acceptable to the world, often concealing parts of one's true identity. Sometimes, it's about hiding in plain sight, and other times, it's about navigating life in a way that feels safer or more manageable. Yet, this practice can sometimes create a disconnect between who we are inside and what we show to others, often at the expense of personal authenticity and self-expression, and, in the worst-case scenario, the erosion of self.
When asked about his masks' shapes, Bisi Alimi said, "I wear a mask every day; the mask depends on the customer! Home is the one place I don't need to mask in; I don't have to pretend to be anything else around my husband and the dogs. When I walk through the door, I breathe a deep sigh of relief and drop my mask on the floor because I don't have to hide. Home, to me, is where I feel empowered to appreciate and celebrate my vulnerability.
As a gay kid growing up, I had to develop a different personality and set it up in a way that protected me. Over the years, I can now embody anything that I want to embody.
On Freedom
What does freedom mean to you?
Freedom is the ability to not live in fear, to express myself in whatever way I feel comfortable to without having to mask. It is my ability to float and exist in a world without having to code-switch or be conscious of what people will say or how they will act due to my being, because of my sexuality, or my race.
In the pursuit of freedom, there is sometimes a trade-off, but growing up on the streets with what I had to survive, courage had to become a part of me. It was not optional. In order to survive in this way, there were places I needed to get to, and I knew the risks it would take, but I still knew I needed to get there anyway. You need a lot of unoptional courage to make life-and-death decisions.
As a little child, I was always very clear on what I wanted to do, what I wanted to be, and where I wanted to go. I fought a lot for the life I have now, and I've lost a lot. The beautiful thing about this is that I have also gained a lot, so it depends on how I measure the loss against the gain.
On Sexuality
Today, the LGBTQ community in Nigeria appears to be very clear on the bold identity they choose for themselves, unapologetic about who they are or how loudly their love is expressed. Somewhere along the line, no one asks for permission to be or even hides in dark corners; they claim themselves loudly surrounded by deep love found in their chosen family, and it's glorious to bear witness.
When asked how the Nigerian queer world today compares to how it was in the 1980s or 1990s Nigeria, Bisi says
I knew I was gay at 8 years old; I never had the consciousness to hide myself even though I had a lot of pushback and several reasons to hide. I have never accepted any of the reasons given to me to hide myself. I went to my first gay party in 1993 at 18. Queerness in Nigeria was very visible then - we could be free. We were free, and we were queer. I knew I couldn't be like the other boys - I wanted to be different - feminine and pretty.
Men have always been in a position where we have one assigned identity - to be strong, to be providers, to lead just like our fathers did. I believe that dresses have the power to change us. Put a wig on a masculine man, and he goes all camp regardless of how straight that man is.
So tell me, what does it mean to be a man?
