Reflections on Bitter by Akwaeke emezi
(Written Nov 2023)
At the apex of apocalypse, which side do you choose to fall toward, apathy or action?
Right now, we’re seeing a war of imperialist conquest play out, sequels and remakes of a story we never needed to begin with. The genocide in Gaza is forcing a lot of people to reckon with the brutal and violent way global leaders forcibly take power. Though this is the first genocide in history to be documented live online the way it has, it is one of many ongoing abuses of people and power that has been happening for centuries. I see the exhausting weight of dread (that there is still more to fight), fatigue (because we’ve been fighting for so long), and rage (that the powers that be continue to deny us space to live on an earth meant for all of us).
If you’re feeling hopeless, tired, scared, and numb, you are not alone. That’s the whole point of this piece.
I’m re-reading Bitter, a speculative fiction novel by Nigerian author Akwaeke Emezi. This book is neither before nor ahead of its time. Bitter speaks to the now-time that we continue to find ourselves in—the tension between the world we know and the world we hope can be.
Bitter, the titular character of this book, has seen and suffered more than her fair share by the time we meet her as a junior in high school. After surviving a childhood in foster care and growing up in the cruel and unjust city of Lucille, Bitter isn’t looking to protest or fight back against the corruption and injustice of the city. She really just wants to enjoy Eucalyptus, a special school for creative youth, where she feels safe to paint and make art. Having suffered so thoroughly, Bitter is convinced that there isn’t anything that can be done about the horrors she witnesses from her dorm window.
Around Bitter, other young people have an eye on revolution and are out in the streets to fight for it. Working as a group under the name Assata, Bitter’s peers are organizing and protesting (and dying) in the name of hope for something better—something Bitter doesn’t quite believe is possible. In her eyes, these Assata kids are throwing themselves recklessly into danger. In a conversation with someone Bitter knows to be working with Assata, Bitter says:
I don’t have hope. I don’t know how allyuh does it, just go and keep putting yourselves out there. The police keep killing us and you does get all up in their faces like they can’t kill you too. It eh make no sense. This been going on for years—what makes you think you can stop it? Don’t you want to live?
That last question feels so important to me. Don’t you want to live? Yes, my answer is yes. I do want to live. Bitter’s definition of living is to stay small, be quiet, and not provoke those with the power to inflict hurt. That’s super relatable. Eddie, the Assata kid Bitter is talking to, realizes that Bitter is scared, and ashamed of that fear. It seems, at least to me, a lot of us might be feeling similar to Bitter. Feeling like things have been so bad for so long that the suffering for something better isn’t worth it. Feeling like things right now are so bad that the thought of being on the front lines of the fight feels impossible to consider. I also know I can’t continue living like this—in survival mode, in fear, in isolation.
Eddie responds to Bitter, “You don’t have to have hope. You don’t have to be out there. You’re important just as you are. You matter.” That’s true for all of us too. Hope and resilience are muscles you strengthen with practice. It makes sense that facing the roiling underbelly of empire and conquest feels overwhelming. Of course it is. The idea that you, individually, are somehow responsible for slaying an enemy that’s persisted for so long. Eddie reminds us,
“the revolution needs artists, just like it needs healers and storytellers, just like it needs the organizers and protestors. It’s all one big organism working together.”
A revolution is bigger than any one person or group. No cell in an organism is too small or unimportant. Each of us has a strength we can contribute toward the success of revolution.
Bitter confesses that she feels others on the front line judge her, along with the other students at Eucalyptus, for not doing enough. I want to leave you with the question Eddie poses to Bitter:
“The real question is, are you judging yourself for not having more capacity than you have? That’s what you gotta figure out, in there [your heart]. Who you’re really mad at. Us? Or yourself? And whatever system’s got you thinking you have to do or be everything instead of just finding your pocket and fighting from it. Like imagine if everyone did just that—just found their pockets and fought for revolution however best they could, within their capacity”
It doesn’t serve the revolution to construct a list of things you can’t do. Instead ask yourself what you can do. What pocket can you fight from? What are you able to contribute so that all of us may enjoy the abundance true liberation brings?
