first timeFOREWORD: Ever since Absalom wrote about his first time, I’ve been on the look-out for another first time story. Then this writer narrated his to me, and I just knew I had to convince him to write about it. The story has all the makings of a fatal-desire-esque feel to it, and this here is the first part. Read and enjoy. And oh, some of you may know who the writer is even before getting to the end. 😀


He was my Ellen and I was his Portia. We always found time for each other even in the midst of our crazy schedules on a daily basis. I loved him dearly with every fibre in me. He was my first love, my first sex, and his name was Danny.

Once upon a time in the early 2000s, there was a doe-eyed, optimistic freshman in a university somewhere in Nigeria. This person was me. It was the first semester of 100level and I was so excited to be in the university, but the excitement was short-lived after a few days of attending lectures. The alien and bizarre environment, the unusual faces, the crowd, the noise and the whole chaos of jumping from one lecture hall to another was something I found rather unsettling. I prefer order and sanity, things being done perfectly in a calm manner. And for all the dreams and fantasies I had before I got the admission, my experience wasn’t one of them.

But in the midst of all the chaos, I found something comforting, something that made it all worthwhile. Continue reading


Blog_Kizito SpeaksDo, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do… 🙂 lol.

I love singing! There’s not a moment that passes by without me singing or humming or making musical sounds. I’m musical like that… Speaking of singing, that’s what choristers do! And speaking of choristers, there’s the one I’ve introduced you all to. His name is Donald.

I had no inclination toward him, but he felt a lot for me. At first, he was a pest. But overtime, we became acquaintances – close ones. We went for rehearsals together, went home together with Peju. She’s the third in our humorous clique. It was always fun walking home with them sha. Always. Sometimes, we’d have a few other people join us on our walk home. And a few other times, it was alone with Donald. Hmm. Our talks were different, awkward, and other things. Queer talk and gossip. And it was also “Gimme a chance” time. *sigh* Continue reading

What’s On Your Mind… VI

Blog_What's On Your MindA few months ago, a certain KDian was published with a story about his friend who is a good dancer and who intended to partake at a campus competition. This KDian was worried that since his friend is effeminate, his dancing at the competition might draw unnecessary attention to him and perhaps confirm the speculation and rumors about his sexuality, and then he, being close friends with the dancer, would automatically be tagged as gay.

As someone who has become comfortable with his sexuality and in his own skin, it’s easy to dismiss these concerns with an impatient wrist flick. But then, I remember my days at the university, when I was scared to death of anyone even having the slightest flicker of suspicion concerning my sexuality. I was so obsessed with covering up my tracks and ensuring that no one ever had any reason to imagine that I was anything but heterosexual. I devoted enormous energies and resources into being “one of the boys” at the expense of my true self. Apparently my efforts didn’t go far enough, because a few gay gays with very functional gaydar ‘sniffed’ me out and would occasionally come over to ‘say hi’. My response, driven by blind panic, was usually the same – a frosty countenance, and an inward prayer that no one was observing me interact with these ‘gays’. Continue reading


Blog_Rantings Of A Random (GAY) NigerianIt was on a Tuesday morning that I saw the email and I instantly became uncomfortable with it. Something about it did not sit right with me. One of my very senior bosses wrote a mail to my direct boss on a particular deal that we were working on with some government agency, and he specifically requested for me to work on the deal. In fact, he wrote in caps: ‘DENNIS SHOULD BE ASSIGNED TO WORK ON THIS PROJECT, AND I BELIEVE THAT HE WILL BRING ABOUT A BREAKTHROUGH.” After sometime, I shook off the uneasy feeling and told myself instead that I was being given more responsibilities, which was an opportunity to prove myself again and maybe snag another promotion.

To be honest, the amount of money involved in this deal and the levels of access to government officials required was higher than my cadre. But if my boss believed I could nail this, then – by God! – I would. Continue reading


IMG-20150613-WA000Author’s Note: This is based on a true life story. Whose story, you may ask? Wel,l I don’t know. It is probably the story of that Father, Brother, Friend, Husband, Uncle, Mentor, Boss who is right next to you. They may seem well put together and composed, but inside they are fragile, because there’s a war going on.


Slumping into my bed after a really long day at work, I was looking forward to just relaxing after a shower and dinner. My laptop bag acted as a pillow while I shut my eyes for a bit, just to savour the peace and quiet of my room.

My phone just then began ringing, waking me up from my near-slumber. I checked the caller ID and it was Mrs. Ate, my CEO’s personal assistant. She was calling me from the office phone. This couldn’t be good, I thought as I answered.

“Good evening, ma. You still dey office so? I think say you for don dey prepare to close by now?”

“Hmm, my dear,” Mrs. Ate replied, “I still dey o. Oga asked me to call you sef. He wants to speak with you. Hold on while I patch him through.”

A few seconds later, and then the voice of my CEO, Dr. Charles Ebi, sailed through the receiver. “Felix, good evening… How are you?” Continue reading


Blog_James' JournalApril 18

It’s a bit annoying how you mention going out with a friend to have a good time to someone else, and they ask if you guys fucked. And I’m like, ‘No! We didn’t fuck! Yes I have a sex life, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to get into the pants of anything that moves.’ It’s even more annoying when they go along the lines of “But he’s a guy na, and you’re a guy, and he’s gay…” You’ve basically reduced my gay life to being just all about sex.

Some people you just cross the bridge of not having sex and becoming very wonderful friends. Of course, when you’re drunk or something, it might happen. But it’s not part of your plan for your relationship with them. You’re not friends with benefits. You’re just friends. I’ve got people like that, people that are just friends. I might have initially found one or two of them attractive, but as time went on, they just became like brothers (or sisters, Lol) to me. Continue reading


tumblr_mtyy5xqdDp1qgurb6o1_1280The following is a work of fiction, a debut effort by KDian, Masked Man. Enjoy.


It was 6.30pm by the time our bus got to Nyanya Motor Park. I was thoroughly exhausted. I never knew Lagos to Abuja was like Africa to Asia. I was in high spirits, a mood of anticipation at the beginning of this journey, you know, going to the capital city for the first time and all that. But all that good mood wilted when I was stuck in Lokoja traffic for hours that seemed unending.

My brother was at the terminal to pick me. I hadn’t seen him in seven months since his traditional wedding in May, at Nnewi. The church wedding was last month, but I couldn’t attend because I had an exam. He was looking quite different. Was that a pot belly? We quickly exchanged pleasantries, put my bag in the back seat and drove off. We kept bantering on different issues all through the short ride.

Adaora was at the door to welcome me, her dearest brother-in-law. She was fonder of me than the rest of my siblings. Perhaps because I’m the last or because I’m the sibling who is closest to her husband. Yes, Ugo is the eldest of us, but the two of us, first and last, have a special connection. Adaora sashayed toward me as I jammed the passenger car door close, and flung out her arms in a wide embrace that couldn’t take two people in. I took in her Jessica White body figure and we hugged for some seconds. Continue reading


Blog_Love And Sex In The City 02“Kizito!” I gasped, at the same time that my heart did a small leap in my chest.

“Good morning!” he greeted in a bright voice as he came abreast of me standing close to the gateway of the workplace compound.

“Good morning…” I swallowed hard as I sized him up with a hunger I thought didn’t exist anymore. It had been a long while since I saw him, and an enquiry from those I knew who worked with him had revealed to me that he’d been on a leave of absence. I stared at him, feeling a reminiscent rush of pleasure at the sight of him. I’d seen silly words in novels that read ‘her eyes swallowed him whole’, and I’d giggled at them. The words weren’t nearly as funny now that I suddenly found my eyes devouring the man standing before me. If my eyes could inhale, that was what mine would have been doing with him, with his husky build, the warm, dark-champagne colours of his eyes and those full lips that curved, the dark upper lip over the fuller, red lower lips, into a small smile.

“This one you’re staring at me, do I have something on my face?” he said with a chuckle. Continue reading

That Piece About The Shag-fish

man-before-and-after-roux-en-y-gastric-bypass-procedureI read the following write-up originally published on, and I laughed so hard, even as I realized afresh that the gay community worldwide is basically just the same, with the same dynamics and plagued by the same afflictions. The non-fictional piece was penned by the Nigerian owner of the blog, keredim. You’d love it as I did, and you’d remember – as I did – your own examples. Do share with us in the comments section when you recall them. 🙂


Catfish.  A guy named Nev starts an online relationship with an attractive lady called Megan on Facebook. Feelings begin to develop between Nev and Megan. As a token of affection, Megan sends Nev mp3 song covers, which Nev subsequently discovers are performances from YouTube. This is just one of the many distortions from Megan which Nev discovers that prompts him to seek her out. Nev travels to Michigan from New York to meet Megan and confront her on these irregularities. It turns out when Nev arrives at her front door, she looks nothing like she does on her Facebook page. Nev is devastated.   After unpicking the tangled web of untruths, we discover “Megan” may or may not exist and the real name of the person behind the Facebook page is Angela – or is it? All the drama is filmed on camera by Nev’s brother and his buddy and made into a documentary.  This was aired and it became a critical and commercial success. Continue reading


Blog_Rantings Of A Random (GAY) NigerianBy the grace of God – This is my least favorite (Nigerian) expression right after “Manage it”. My aversion to this phrase has nothing to do with my faith or beliefs; it just irks me because in it is embedded an abdication of responsibility. For example, you take your fabric to a tailor and ask him if it will be ready next week, and he says, “By the grace of God.” My response is always something like: “God’s grace is always available, and God is not the one sewing the cloth Himself. You know how many jobs you currently hold and you know how fast you work. So how about you consider these factors and go ahead to give me a realistic time frame for collection.”

This abdication of responsibility is also seen in our country’s leadership; we pray to God to end insurgency rather than taking a sustained military offensive against the terrorists. As a young Catholic boy (yes, you read right, I even fancied being a priest at some point before ‘worldly pleasures’ distracted me), I remember scoffing at that “prayer against bribery and corruption in Nigeria” (do they still say that prayer in Catholic churches?), because even at that age, I knew that God would not come and end corruption in Nigeria; it is Nigerians themselves who will put an end to it. At some point, you have to take responsibility for your life. Continue reading