RANTINGS OF A RANDOM (Gay) NIGERIAN (Entry 15)

Blog_Rantings Of A Random (GAY) NigerianA friend of mine had a very terrible kito situation recently; it involved some young guy who came over to his apartment for a night-over and left with some valuable stuff in the morning. My friend tracked him down to Uniport to ask for his stuff back (the tablet that was stolen was company property). Anyway, it got really messy and the police was involved and all, and eventually my friend parted with some money (a lot of money actually) to bury the matter. Anyway, after this unfortunate experience, he told me he was “quitting being gay.” I asked him if it was a switch that can be turned off and on, and he said that yes the feelings won’t go away, but he would no longer be involved with men,

“What has this thing fetched me Dennis? All troubles… I had an extra year in school… I eventually graduated with a Third Class… To get a job was war… Kito left, right and centre… Abeg, I am out!” Continue reading

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 33)

Blog_James' JournalApril 3

*searches deep down into soul for something inspirational to write*

*finds out all the soul is thinking about is the big box of chocolates in the freezer*

Hello creatures of KD. I hail all of una… The Queen mother of dragons, the ever controversial Gad, the slightly venomous Max, Pinky the demon who thrives on controversy, my new friend Mitch, everyone else I can’t mention, and the ghosts who show up to read and not say squat for fear of being destroyed by our sharp-tongued brethren. Why don’t y’all take a chance and comment today? Hope y’all had a lovely month-end weekend. Scratch that – can’t bear the thought that your weekends were better than mine, because nobody else deserves to be happy unless I’m happy.

This past weekend has been one heck of a ride, and I was taken back approximately four years ago when on Friday, my mum asked me the question again: “Are you still gay?”

I knew she knew the answer, so I didn’t bother lying. She then said she wanted me to go see a pastor. She said he’s a man of God gifted with prayers and etc. I agreed. Last time something like this was brought up, I disagreed. This time however, I agreed because I’m supposed to honour my parents. Continue reading

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 30)

Blog_KD JournalFebruary 26

This is a long ass post. You have Pinky to blame for that one, since he asked for my spot last Sunday. Happy reading.

I’ve started work in Lagos. As I write this, I am there looking at all the weird machines that will hopefully become familiar with time.

Working – no, learning here is dull. My supervisor does a lot of paper work where she has to record her findings and stamp stuff. Whenever I notice she’s doing a test however, I go to meet her and start asking questions. She’s never called me to see anything so far. She’s a nice lady, she seems easy to get along with.

There’s another IT student who schools in the polytechnic of my city, and she’s pretty friendly. We got talking and she asked what church I attend, and I told her I go to church frequently when I’m at home but hardly when I’m in school. She then went on to call me a “big boy” which I took as sarcasm. Whatever… I genuinely enjoy going to the church in my hometown. I feel some semblance of safety there, and what they teach, I understand. I may not agree with them all the time but I understand. Continue reading

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 29)

Blog_KD JournalFebruary 13

Life doesn’t always go the way you want it. In those moments when things depend on chance and luck, I find myself trying hard to control the fates. I do things with the hope that it would help put the odds in my favour. At moments like those, I become a control freak and I have this intangible weight on my chest and a nervousness that makes me irritable. Sometimes though, you just have to let go. Letting go is usually the hardest. Leaving things to play out as they should is hard. I however believe in not going down without a fight; I need to make sure that I had done whatever it was in my power to do before I fail, so I’d learn my lesson and move on. I’m not afraid of failure, I’m however very scared of regrets. They plague me. Once they come into my thoughts, I stop whatever I’m doing and a brief flashback happens and I feel terrible. I hate those moments. I however have a few regrets currently. And most of them are just stupid stuff. Lol.

I was explaining to a female friend of mine why I was skeptical about having a kid of my own. Kids are a big responsibility and I can be very selfish. She laughed and said she admired how I knew myself. Continue reading

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 27)

Blog_KD JournalJanuary 23

My money haf almost finish o. Lol.  You see ehn, most adults forget what it’s like to write exams. I cannot afford to cook when I have mounds of parasites, drugs and pathological names to remember. Also my active brain needs nourishment, and if I crave dominos and coldstone, I will go ahead and buy them, because I am relieving stress (By the way, don’t mix ice cream and pizza, unless you have weird taste buds like me).

So, that was my argument with my dad. Not exactly like that. I can be spoilt but I’m not that spoilt. I did tell him that I used most of the money on food and since I didn’t have time to cook, most of it was gone. I also lost my ID card and I had to spend money in the process of retrieving it. And I’ve spent quite a lot of cash on these expensive Nigerian data plans, downloading YouTube videos to supplement my knowledge and streaming porn to jerk off with when I feel über-stressed and need to relax (I didn’t add that one sha). Continue reading

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 26)

Blog_KD JournalJanuary 1

I’ve always had a hunch

That putting sentences

On different lines

When they could have all been on the same line

Turns a rather bland sentence

Into poetry

Lol. I know it’s not as easy as that, but look at what I just did. Isn’t it biuriful! I think that’s what Vhar basically does… *strokes beard in thought*

I’m writing exams. Yay! (Please, note my heavy sarcasm) This exam is however much more lenient than my previous ones. We have at least 24 hours before each paper, which is enough time for me to go through my notes and work on past questions with times for 10-minute power naps in between.

My life has been relatively dry… Not that dry though. At the risk of getting a lot of sneers and jeers from people, I will state that my boyfriend and I have broken up. Why? Continue reading

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 24)

Blog_KD JournalDecember 27

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). Continue reading

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 22)

Blog_KD JournalDecember 4

I’ve got a long list of ex lovers. They’ll tell you I’m insane.

Taylor, you get me so well. My list isn’t as long as yours though. But I still love you.

Anyhoo…I’ve got my phone back and all is right with the world once again. I do hope it doesn’t fuck me up anytime soon again.

I have decided to sing during my faculty week that’s coming up in the next two weeks. I be nervous as hell, but I think it’s time I allowed myself perform in front of a small crowd. I’m not extremely good with the guitar, because I consider my voice my main instrument, but even then, I know people that are waaaay better than me in singing. I was in Port Harcourt recently (don’t ask what I went to do there) and I visited a karaoke bar, and this guy sang three songs and did fabulously well. The bar gave him an ovation and it just made me feel like my voice was bland and boring. Nonetheless, I sang a couple of songs and though it wasn’t exactly a hit, I held my own down.

The kind if singer I hope to be is one that can channel emotion through his voice. Make people feel happy or sad or melancholy and whatnot. Not just someone who can sing and knows how to do riffs and runs. Songs that are memorable to me are those that can channel their emotions to me and I can feel or at least understand what the singer is feeling.

I’ve picked the songs I’d like to sing – Amnesia by Five Seconds Of Summer, and Stardust by Mikka. I can connect to these songs on an emotional level and they seem relatively easy. I’ve done covers of them and people liked them. Maybe if anyone is interested in hearing, they could drop their email addresses with Pinky and I’ll send the file across. But singing a song into a recorder and actually singing to a crowd are two different things. Well… wish me luck and I hope I don’t choke.

Online shopping can be addictive. My mum is out of the country and I’ve been shipping things to her to bring back home for me. I won’t be surprised if my parents cut down my pocket money or I get an interrogation on where I’m getting my money from. I won’t put it past my mum to ask, “I hope it’s not that you are doing that thing and they are giving you money for it,” and I will give her my best innocent look and say, “What thing?” Then skip merrily away with my new found property.

I prefer to buy gadgets over clothes. I have only three pairs of footwear. One for when I want to be cooperate, a pair of All Stars (probably fake), and a pair of fabulous rubber slippers that look like leather (I call them my fabulous slippers). I don’t get people that have more than five pairs of shoes, especially when they use their money to buy them. What is wrong with you people!!!

I be keeping meh hair in a ‘fro and people love it! Me sef, I love it. I’m not one to care about looks (ain’t nobody got time for that!) But once in a while I find a look I like and I stick to it.

One night, I lay up wondering whether secrets are good for a relationship. Like things from one’s past. I think it can be good. As much as it’s great to know all about a person, there’s the slight chance it would get boring, right? But then again, there are some things that shouldn’t be kept from your partner. So I figured it’s just one of those things where moderation comes in. Some things should not necessarily be said. A friend (*coughs*) told me of how he spent the weekend with his boyfriend in a friend’s lovely house. Some weeks later, the boyfriend sort of offhandedly mentioned that he and that friend had shagged many times, and my friend just felt really awkward about it. It might be a bit silly… but I totally see myself in my friend’s shoes. (*coughs again*)

I stop typing here. Reward yourself with a cookie if you read this and didn’t fall asleep. Buh bye.

Written by James

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 21)

Blog_KD JournalNovember 25

Quite a number of times, the question of what is wrong with Nigeria comes up. Why is a country as blessed and rich as ours so messed up and finding it hard to get her act together?

Over the years I’ve heard a lot of common answers: the government, corruption, terrible education, the fact that we were colonised… yada, yada, yada.

Sure, these are all problems. However they are not THE problem. What’s wrong with Nigeria? You and me.

Nothing is going to change in this country if we keep pointing fingers at each other, thinking we personally are not to blame.

These leaders you see up there, they didn’t spring from the cesspools of corruption and greed just like that. They were once normal citizens like us…citizens that got to become the elite. They were brought up to believe that stealing and half-truths are normal. Continue reading

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 19)

Blog_KD JournalOctober 29

More often than not, I have been called nice. One of my exes hated that I didn’t find it weird that someone cuts themselves or doesn’t have sex. I try to be understanding. I give people benefits of the doubt. I give second and third and fourth and fifth chances. Just doing my own little bit of being a good human.

I however know I can be far from nice when I want to be. I gave up the notion that I was a sweet little angel when I broke up with my first boyfriend. It wasn’t bloody exactly, but I did act like a total bitch. His name is Adam.

I met Adam in Lagos at a friend’s place, and I was obsessed with him within an hour of talking. I just felt drawn to him, and thankfully he was to me too. We started what was to be my longest relationship yet.

It was long distance. I stayed in Ogun while he stayed in Lagos. We saw very few times and it involved me sneaking away from the rest of my family to see him quite briefly. But I could confidently say I was madly in love with him. I still get glimpses of what made him attractive to me. His voice, his walk… He had this way of blinking… Little weird things like that that made my ovaries tingle. Continue reading