I spent my Christmas at home. It was a nice quiet one. For me anyways. My brothers went to a party and I sat my ass at home. I invited a friend of mine over who is straight but knows I’m interested in guys. He didn’t know the way to my house so I went to get him, and as we walked down to the red brick house that I call home, he told me about how he had finally got a girlfriend and was less shy. This was someone who would avoid meals in my A-level school just so that the huge crowd of secondary school students we shared the school with wouldn’t stare too much at him. Those students could stare… It was unnerving. And it didn’t ease up even after we spent a whole year. Sometimes I felt like a zoo animal under observation and would start my habit of chewing on my lower lip because I was nervous. I don’t think I’d mind anymore if that happened again. Might even revel in it because, Bitch, I’m fabulous!
Anyways he kept on yapping about the girl and how he really liked her and how she understood him and blah-blah-blah. He told me about the first time he kissed her, about how it was sloppy and she just laughed about it and stuff like that. I’m glad he’s getting more confident now; he’s had suicidal tendencies because he felt his life sucked and he could never make his parents happy since he wasn’t overly intelligent and stuff like that. It might not seem like a big deal to commit suicide over, but sometimes that shii can be very irrational. I did my best to be there for him, listened to his secrets and fears and shared mine as a show of friendship or good faith, and though he used to be quite homophobic, he’s much better now. He even found out his roomie was gay, and after the initial shock, he said he couldn’t give two fucks (as long as the guy doesn’t hit on him. I rolled my eyes then).
What’s it with straight guys and gay guys hitting on them anyways? If you are very confident of your sexuality, I don’t see why you should flinch if a gay guy comes on to you. In my opinion, you should feel flattered, or if the worst comes to worst, uninterested. And if the gay guy is the predatory type, a firm ‘No’ should be okay (not in all cases though). When you resort to name-calling and preaching, I tend to think it’s because you have something to hide or something you’re ashamed of.
Anyhoo, like I said, I’m glad my friend seems to be doing okay. I wish I could tell his mum about it though, but you know Nigerian parents can make things worse when they find out.
Some days before I left for home, I went on campus to go charge my devices. The generator had been faulty at my apartment and school seemed to be having constant electricity. I was supposed to go to a gay friend’s room to charge, but bumped into a straight friend who is basically my twin. So I went to his room instead to crack jokes no one else understood and do cartoon impersonations while talking geeky stuff like Naruto, One Piece, etc.
So my straight friend and I hung out before I decided to go back home. I however decided to check on my gay friend (let’s call him Lanre) before leaving.
While walking down to his room, straight friend went, “Doesn’t it bother you that Lanre is a bit…” Then he did a hand gesture with a funny face.
I asked what that meant, although I bloody well knew, and he said, “You know… gay.”
I laughed and said, “I don’t know him that well, and I don’t really care. I just want to charge my stuff.” We walked in silence for a while before I asked, “What makes you think he’s gay?”
“Well, a friend of mine on the same floor as him saw some gay porn sites on his laptop.”
“Oh,” I said. “Who else knows?”
“Everyone in his block, almost everyone. But he doesn’t know we know.”
“Nobody is giving him trouble because of it?” I asked.
“No, we don’t care. As long as he doesn’t bring his shit near us.”
And I dropped the topic there. I did however let Lanre know they knew his secret. I encouraged him a bit and told him to be wary of kito-bringers and to beep me on any new developments so I’d see if I could help (and I’m an amebo like that).
I was surprised about how seemingly well the people of that block took the suspicion of his sexuality. And that reinforced some things I suspect about the homophobia in this country. Apart from ignorance as to what being gay is about, these people don’t see “real” gay people. What they see is the overly flamboyant ones on TV, the ones who are pedophilic, the ones caught having sex, the dehumanised ones. Let them see us in our natural environment, living our everyday lives, and they might as well just not care whether we fall in love with the same sex or not.
I cut my hair, my beautiful fabulous hair! I cut it! As wisps of it fell to the ground, I smiled at my boyfriend beside me, even though inside, I was nervous as hell. Why? Because I was worried I’d look weird. When the barber was done, my fears were realised. I did look weird, but my boo said I looked fine. Suuuuure… He knows if he didn’t say that, he wouldn’t be getting any that night. Lol.
The relationship is about two months old and as much as I love him, I still think I’m the one who is going to sabotage this whole thing. He’s strong, but weak at the same time, and I’m scared I’d just end up breaking him and us.
I used to think forever for two guys was a possibility. I still think it is. But I don’t think it’s for me anymore. I’ve had two shots at something that I’d have loved to go on forever, but I fucked up in one and the other fucked me up. Honestly I’ve just lost faith… I mean you only get a chance at true love like once and you’re damned well lucky if you did twice.
Funny enough, I don’t think I’m the type who is satisfied with “comfortable relationships”. I want stormy ones that cause me to feel my emotions strongly… and this one feels comfortable. Still… I’ll keep holding on. Like I said, I love him. It might not be as strong as those other two but I do and that’s what counts, right?
Anyways, back to my hair. See, it used to be in a nice fluffy ‘fro. But it was too much of a bother to take care of. I’d spend five minutes in front of a mirror trying keep it neat and trim and I was getting sick of it, because I only like to stare in the mirror long enough to make sure everything is in place, not trying to make my hair stand a particular way. To make matters worse, by the time I stepped out and got to class, people would ask why my hair wasn’t combed even though I’d combed it about fifteen minutes ago. So I decided it had to go. I regret it now. But thank goodness, hair grows back. Don’t think I’m ever going back to low cut.
I heard Uganda has decided that the punishment for gay activities is life imprisonment. I however fail to see what the punishment is there, if ya know what I mean. *wink*
I’ll see you guys next year. Compliments of the Season, everyone.
Written by James