I watched some episodes of RuPaul’s drag race, and is it weird that I’m absolutely in love with the series? For those of y’all who don’t know what it is about, it’s got these guys who dress in drag, competing to be the next drag supermodel, like RuPaul. I used to think that drag queens were men who wanted to be women or transgender, but on the contrary, most of them still consider themselves essentially male but wear the female clothes and make-up as a costume. It was fabulous seeing the way they transformed from male to female and doing stuff better than many a female. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind dressing in drag one day and just having a good time with my pals… I did after all try on my mum’s shoes when they could still fit my feet. I remember she used to laugh, but now she goes all sour and tells me to learn a sport even though we both know that’s never going to happen.
Anyways… I am constantly reminded about how difficult Nigerians find it to mind their fucking business. It is not by force to talk to everybody, and my classmates that I’ve never so much as said a ‘Hi’ to will go “Why weren’t you in class yesterday?” with this condescending look or “Why do you always draw at the back of your book?” or “Why aren’t you wearing the same clothes as everyone else?”
I probably seem stuck up. But I’m not. It’s just that condescending look I hate. And the fact that they feel like I owe them an explanation as to how I’m running my life.
A few weeks ago, I was trying to listen to my very interesting pathology lecturer and I was prodded on the back, and I turn to see it’s a girl whose name I’d forgotten. She goes, “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
“Why should I wear a shirt?” I ask. I was wearing a red top with the meme “like a boss” drawn on it and a pair of combat trousers.
“Everyone else is wearing a shirt,” she says.
I look around and it’s true. Almost everyone else was wearing a shirt. “So?” I ask, mildly irritated.
“Aren’t you scared that they will complain?”
By ‘they’, I assumed she meant the lecturers. I turn my whole body to face her and say, “Was it written or stated anywhere that I should be dressed a particular way?”
And she goes, “It’s to be safe…”
“From?” I snap with arched eyebrows.
And she had no reply.
In hindsight, maybe it was genuine concern. But still – Gaaaaah! You disrupted my rare moment of utter concentration to tell me I’m wearing what is different from the others – Seriously?!
One other time, I was sitting down at a faculty I borrowed a course from, playing my Nintendo 3Ds, and someone I didn’t recognise calls for my attention.
“Good afternoon. Are you waiting for a class?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Oh.. Okay. What level are you?” he asks.
I state my level, wondering where the convo was going. He then asks for my department and I provide the answer, anxious to return to defeating the dream eaters and completing my mission.
And this stranger goes, “You’re studying such a difficult course and you’re playing game.”
Oh dear lord! Thank goodness for the restraint I have on my tongue, because I would have given the idiot a lashing he would never forget. Instead I frowned and stared at him in a way that I believe made him feel stupid for not minding his business, and he turned around and left. And I continued playing my game.
I hate the fact that we are socialists in this country. We believe in the fact that we must consider the society’s happiness than the happiness of an individual. It sucks balls. I’d like to believe that to a large degree, I’m an individualist. I do what I want to do and dress the way I want to dress. I listen to my own genre of music and know the kind of games I like. It’s more often than not different from public taste, making me get weird looks for things that shouldn’t matter. But who fucking cares about the masses anyways? I’ll just live my life the way I want it as much as possible.
I gotta go now. I’ve got tests on Monday and Tuesday. I don’t want to have re-sits or carryovers… Toddles.
Written by James