FOREWORD: Everybody says I have to say something grand or do something drastic about yesterday’s furor. But I don’t. Not really. I just have a few things to say. No one should let his sense of self revolve around another person’s negativism. If you have an issue with someone’s comment, the ‘Like-Dislike’ button has been provided against every comment for you to express yourself. 🙂 And please, I can’t stress this enough, no more catfights. Every follower of this blog is a grown man (or woman?) and shouldn’t use the anonymity provided by the internet to act out his inner child.

Secondly, this blog is home to all forms of art and expression of the Nigerian gay man. ALL FORMS, as long it is not rubbish. For those expecting to have an intellectual orgasm anytime they click on here, I’m sure there’s a blog or two out there that celebrates Wole Soyinka and Chinua Achebe you can be a follower to. This forum is about expression of self; bear in mind that your ‘self’ isn’t always going to be someone else’s ‘self’ the next time you feel like pouring out your vitriol.

Finally, anyone who expects to read a certain kind of thing should write it. If you want unpredictability, write it. If it’s depth you want to read, write it. Chimamanda Adichie once said: ‘I write what I want to read.’ Kindly stop kvetching about other people’s efforts and write what you want to read. Write. Submit. I’ll publish.

Well, seems I said more than a few things. Here’s to hoping we can all be grownups thenceforth. Yes, I know, I can only hope. Lol. Anyway, here’s the feature story. It’s a non fictional piece by a Kito Diaries-ian, Queer Mike, who is currently recovering from heartbreak and disillusionment. The things wanting what others are not prepared to give you can do to a person. Read the story below.


5626690325_f4d35c10b0_zThe dawn of that long awaited Tuesday, came with the chill of a heavy rainfall that lingered from the night before. I did a double check on my well packed luggage; just to be sure no item on my list was being left out, with enough clothes to last for my two week visit to Lagos. I’d completed my semester exams the day before. I’d spent sleepless nights studying, and losing weight, just to see myself make it through the exams.

Weeks ago, while I was studying, my phone buzzed. I checked to see I’d gotten a Whatsapp message. It was from an ex-lover, Peter. I was surprised by that. Ever since he relocated to Nevada in the States, he’s hardly kept in touch with me. I nursed no grudge at all for that; after all, what we had was a one-night-thingie two years back, a quick shag during one of his business trips to Enugu from Lagos, one that eventually turned into a friendship. And we kept in touch even after he left Enugu. And then he left the country for the States and we lost touch. Continue reading


Blog_KD JournalMay 5

What to write. Lol.

Well, Duke and I seem to have improved. We talk more often now. I also got Ed Sheeran’s album and I’m loving it. I know people would have got it ages ago but I like to take my time to get albums.

I want to write a story. A nice story. About a guy who is in love with his best friend. That would just be the starting. It won’t be centered on their relationship. That won’t be realistic.

I’m beginning to question if love lasts forever. I was talking to someone and he said he’s really liking some dude but they won’t date because there is no future in it. We Nigerian gays have it bad. It’s just sex, you know. And even when we do get into a relationship, we don’t take it serious. We cheat anyhow and that’s because we feel there’s no future in being with one person.

In my opinion, future or not, when you love someone, you give it your best shot. Might not be enough but you can actually say you did and it didn’t work and have no regrets. No need to wonder what would have happened if you tried a little bit harder. Continue reading


stock-footage-man-crying-laying-on-pillow-in-bedSometimes, I hate God. Don’t get me wrong. I’m Christian. I respect Him A LOT. I adore Him, but where being gay is concerned, I intensely dislike Him. Imagine that moment, as a child, where you and your dad are ‘struggling’ over the remote for your favourite TV programmes? I call it ‘struggle’ lightly, because it’s inevitable your father gets control. You can only rant and cry.

God took The Cook away from me. I still cry when I think about it. Continue reading


China GBC ProjectIn spite of the urgency I read in Ekene’s call, I took my time closing from work. I put my things together, while mentally calculating the expense of going to his place in Ojuelegba before going on home in Surulere. He was lucky we lived in the same direction, otherwise, not even the sake of our friendship would make me drag my tired self to his place at the end of a work day, braving the mad traffic that was bound to bog down the Lagos metropolis.

As I stepped out of the office, my phone rang again. This time, the name I saw flashing on and off against the brightness of the phone’s screen set my heart into a light skip. The smile I instantly wore was evident in my voice when I answered, “Hey you.”

“Hey yourself,” Basil’s deep voice thrummed against my ear. “How was your day, Dick?”

There was something very suggestive about that moniker every time he referred it to me. “Stop calling me that,” I said with a chuckle, instantly feeling a tug against my crotch. “That’s not my name.” Continue reading


Blog_KD JournalApril 12

Duke’s travel is an almost done deal. He has dropped off his passport with the person helping him out. I feel sad about it. Not because he is going, but because of what might have been if he wasn’t going. Thankfully, I prepared my mind for this so it would not hurt too much. After I see him next week, I will tell him I am not interested in holding on to him. I’ll delete him off my BBM too. I don’t want to see pictures that will make me feel nostalgic.

Tay reckons I’m just scared of being alone. I have been with different people for the past five years of my life, and he thinks I don’t want to know what it’s like to be alone. He is a little right. But I am not one to shy away from my fears too much. If being alone is what I will be soon, then so be it. But as long as there are people I want who want me back, why should I be alone? Continue reading

S.E.X: The Gay Alphabets?

Ah, my tormentor from the comments section, he with the acerbic things to say, the one, the only Chizzie has finally written something, 🙂 something real not fiction, that he wants to share with all you lovely brethren. Read below and enjoy. Be warned, it has a message at the end of it all that we should all take to heart. 🙂


g12It was intense lust at first Facebook request.  He wasn’t exactly good looking, but he was tall, huge and dark. The first moment I saw his picture, I knew I wanted to be underneath him for hours. So I stalked him on Facebook, sent him a Facebook request and gathered as much information on him as I could. What little information I had looked really promising. He had a good job, a nice car, was in his mid 30s (how I like them), lived alone and, as I was told, had a very big penis.

I was excited; my mind was filled with fantasies of us entwined in bed, rolling between the sheets, of me resting my head on those broad shoulders of his. But as the days gradually turned to weeks and my Facebook request still remained pending, I figured all hope was lost, and had just started moving on with my life – on to the next penis, as I like to say. Then one day, weeks after, I woke up to see that he had not only finally accepted my request but had gone on to like several of my pictures. Surely this was a good sign. Continue reading


Here’s another series from yet another Kito-Diaries-sian, James. It’s not fiction. It’s a Dear Diary sort of write-up, one that will afford us glimpses into the life of a brother. Here’s the debut episode. Read and enjoy.


Blog_KD JournalApril 9

Love. . .

That word gives me different reactions. Sometimes it’s a “blergh!” Other times, it’s a “sigh”.

I have been in love. It hurt. But it also felt good. I couldn’t differentiate the two feelings. I felt them both intensely. And I didn’t bother to separate them either, because human love is an imperfect thing. You just enjoy and suffer whatever it gives you.

Maybe saying I was in love is a bit wrong. I still love, but it’s buried now. It had to be. For my good, for my sanity. I try not to think about then, when I felt everything would be alright as long as I had my love. Him. John. Sure, I got hurt so many times but I always got over it. I would rant and cry and be depressed but I would still look up ahead because I felt I could pull through anything as long as the other person was with me. Too bad they didn’t think the same. Continue reading


This is quite the graphic narrative, a walk down memory lane by a new Kito-Diaries-ian, Brandon Rock. Like I said, it’s real and its graphic, a cautionary foreword for readers with delicate sensibilities. Otherwise, read and . . . well, enjoy. Lol.


NigerianDuring my senior secondary school days, I always joined my landlord’s kids to school in their car because they passed through the route to my school, and that was a great convenience. It was also a slight inconvenience because since they always woke up early in order to beat the usual morning traffic congestion in the city of Port Harcourt, I had to wake up early too.

On this fateful morning, I woke up unusually early. I was dressed up for school and was idling away. I knew my landlord’s children wouldn’t be ready at the time; I however decided to go wait for them outside their bungalow until they were ready to leave.

It was about a few minutes past 5am when I got into their compound. The compound was dead quiet and empty, except for Akpan, one of their drivers, who was washing the car. I’d seen Akpan regularly and never took any interest in him.

Until that morning. Continue reading


06-effeminate-060912It was a Friday and I was happy. It had been a terrible week at work, with me throwing tantrums a few times from the pressure. I was happy to get home, have a few drinks and hook up with a nice guy (don’t we all?). So after I got home, logged into xxxxx.com (sorry I had to cross that out), I had a new message (clearly Aphrodite was happy with me). I read the message, he dropped a blackberry pin and I went ahead to read his profile. I loved it, the profile picture was hot, I was drooling until I saw…“likes straight acting guys only”. I just sighed, logged out and went into the room to sleep.

I hate the term ‘straight acting’, and I will tell you why. We live in an extremely homophobic society, a society that doesn’t believe in the diversity of humans. A society that regards any sexual relations out of that between a man and a woman as abnormal. Now when we use the term ‘straight acting’, are we endorsing the position that heterosexuality is the right way? And that in order to validate ourselves, do we have to behave in a certain way that is deemed straight acting? Continue reading


Whoever said the open letters from the tops was finished thought wrong. These bruthas be vexing. I got another letter – this one from someone who’s an ex-lover (Hush! Don’t tell anyone! 🙂 ) – and we shall call him…er, Dexter. Here’s what he had to say.


stereotypes1#1 Know The Dick You Signed Up For

Bottoms, after probably asking for pictures, demos and whatnot, then get to the top’s place. And then he whips out his schlong. It’s nice. It’s big. It’s majestic. And then, the bottom be like – What is this?! I can’t take this! Hold on! Gimme a minute. Don’t go so deep!

And I’m like – Like hell I won’t. I’m dicking that ass! Continue reading