200019237-001It was all the hair on his person that attracted me to Bala first. He had a full head of hair, and sprinkles of it all over his arms and on the part of his chest that was visible above the top of his shirt. He also had this rugged bad boy look about him that strengthened the attraction I felt for him.

We were in front of the WAEC HQ in Yaba, Lagos, for the purpose of submitting a letter to get original certificates for the previous year’s GCE. I initiated the conversation with him, and soon, we were clicking like we were old friends. Perhaps it was the frustration of having already been turned back more than twice on the grounds that “the person collecting the letter is not around.” Maybe he liked me the way I liked him. I don’t know. But one thing was for certain: in that hot afternoon, I was heavily in lust with the hairy, rugged-bad-boy-looking Bala.

Before we parted ways that day, we exchanged numbers. And, boy did we talk. In the days following that afternoon, we talked and texted and talked some more. And with each call or text, I kept slipping in innuendos, hoping Bala would catch my drift, and luckily welcome my subtle advances.

Finally, after some pressing on my part, we decided to meet and hang out. The arrangement was for me to go see him at his place. When the day dawned, I was so giddy with the excitement of getting to set my eyes on Bala’s hairy loveliness once again. Continue reading


bigstock-Worried-black-young-man-with-h-52268527I live in the ancient city of Benin. And this is my kito…or rather, near–kito story. It occurred (or almost occurred) right after my Post–UTME exams. I am sure a good number of us can remember passing through this period. It’s a time when it feels like you’re in limbo. You’re out of secondary school but not yet in the University, and it’s frequently a time of intense boredom which can reach a stifling intensity. It can last for several months, or even years if you’re so unlucky.

Anyway, I was on the verge of losing my mind due to boredom – Benin isn’t the most fun place to be – and so, I decided to spice things up a bit and create some fun and diversion for myself. I didn’t own a Blackberry then, and thus, didn’t have access to BBM. So I logged on to my 2go account and found a thriving gay chat room which was full of eager and available guys. Continue reading

A Kito Story Gone Wrong . . . Or Right

bigstock-Happy-Black-Man-4158483It depresses me when I read kito stories of brothers who are bashed, battered, robbed and extorted by unscrupulous human beings whose final resting place is as much in hell as the rest of the Nigerian public say ours is. But it’s one thing when an anti-homosexual lot entraps a gay man. When the entrapment is orchestrated by a fellow gay man, it hurts. It burns like a wound inflicted by a pressing iron, and which is so searing it promises to take a long time to heal. Someone once said on this blog that there’s a special fiery hot place in hell for such disloyal brothers. I believe that. I also believe that such hell can be manifested for them right here on earth.

That is why this kito story I’m about to narrate is one I savoured with great relish when I heard it. Continue reading


200019237-001My name is Lexy, I am in my mid–twenties and I live in the Oil City of Port Harcourt. And this is my Kito Story.

I have over the last few months been reading the other kito stories published on this blog and have been struggling and agonizing over whether to tell my story or not. Eventually, I decided to write, even if doing so brings back haunting and painful memories. If this story can serve to stop someone else from falling victim like I did, then I believe my agony and pain would at least have borne something positive, however small its significance

Max was one of the first few friends I had on Facebook. We chatted often there, and over time we grew really close. Max is gorgeous; he’s of mixed origins, with Mediterranean/Middle Eastern features, flawless alluring skin and a face that made all sorts of wanton thoughts run through my mind each time I looked at his pictures. Despite my deep attraction to him, I resisted his persistent invitations for me to visit him. I don’t know, perhaps my sixth sense had already picked up on something that my other senses, beclouded as they were by my attraction to him, had failed to see. I always felt a faint unease about Max, despite his charming looks. I couldn’t explain it, but this small voice always held me back each time I was close to deciding to pay him a visit. Continue reading


200019237-001“Hello… Hey, Gabby, what’s up… For real? Kelvin is coming into town? How long will he be here for? … Ok, no wahala… I am coming, I’m coming…”

And then I ended the call.

Now, Kelvin is my friend, Gabby’s boyfriend, who doesn’t often come around. I secretly have a crush on him, but it’s something I will never act on . . . well, unless he dumps Gabby tomorrow and decides to carry on with me. Kelvin and I enjoy each other company, and as such, he always wants me around whenever he comes to see his boyfriend.

It was then 2:45pm as I left my lodge and hurried over to Gabby’s house, which was in town, so that we could scout for a good hotel for Kelvin’s accommodation, and make a ‘to-do’ list. When I got to his place, he was still getting dressed and took his time to come get the door, and it wasn’t very long before we settled into our usual repartee.

“Bitch, what was keeping you?” I fired as I followed him inside.

“Don’t mind me joor. You know I have to douche very well,” he replied cheekily.

“Oh, slut central,” I jabbed.

He laughed and began pulling on a shirt that looked like it was sprayed on him.

I gasped in exaggerated disbelief, “Bitch, that shirt is too tight, your boobs are screaming SOS.”

“That’s the idea,” he retorted coyly. Continue reading

Two Kito Stories In One (A Sallah Special)

Hi, I’m Lanre, and the following stories are real life, narrations that serve as a much needed bonus in this kito-ridden Nigeria of ours, to remind us to keep our spider senses on always.


african-amerian-man-thinkingKito Story One

Location: Garki, Abuja.

Date: Late 2012, pre-14 years

Tersee and Lanre were in an open relationship, they frequently found market for each other. Porn-star-sized orgies were common in the apartment they shared, but no one doubted the dynamic duo were in love. They had kept the relationship going for five years. In gay terms, that’s like, for-e-vurrrrr!

So this rainy day in July, Tersee brought Shamsu home to the lion’s den, to be slaughtered by Lanre’s eleven inch weapon of ass-destruction. And what an ass – all round mound, large as a heifer’s, on a dark skinned corpulent Hausa bitch in a white t-shirt, tight denim jeans and a brown sweater.

They didn’t waste time on the introductions. Tersee’s friend wasn’t much of a talker, he was just a submissive bottom who whimpered and moaned to the script and took dick as much as Tersee’s ‘husband’ could sling. Continue reading


bigstock-Worried-black-young-man-with-h-52268527It was sometime towards the end of May, 2013. My birthday was a few days away. I was home, done with school, awaiting the next stage of my life with the commencement of my NYSC posting, and thoroughly bored.

I decided to reactivate my manjam account, just to see what was going in there. I’d been off the site for quite some time, because of the horrid stories I’d heard about dubious characters who set up gay guys who are essentially good people merely looking for hook-ups.

Hello, Sam here, would love to be your friend.

The message dropped in a few minutes after I reactivated my account. As was my routine, I went through his profile. He seemed like a cool guy, from the stuff he wrote about himself on his profile. You know, in manjam, unlike Badoo (where there are full-faced photos), you rely more on the profile write-up and provocative profile pictures to access a potential hook-up’s desirability. So I responded. And we exchanged numbers after a brief chat there on the dating site. We started talking over the phone; he said he wasn’t on BBM. He called frequently, and we had lengthy conversations during these calls. And he never once urged me to visit him. My birthday came and passed, and he called to wish me well. He was actually very sweet over the phone. Continue reading


200019237-001Hi, I’m Woody, and I have a kito story to tell.

My story is the kind you don’t wish on your friends, and sometimes, not even your enemies. It’s a chapter of my life that I’ve been trying very hard to forget, the kind of story that I swore never to recount, especially not on a forum such as this. It took a lot of courage on my part and encouragement from Pink Panther for me to let this story be told here.

It started from a visit my family and I once made to the village a long while back.

The trip was for the burial of an aunt, and at some period during the time, I lost my phone. I’d plugged it to charge in our living room, and several moments later, I returned to find it gone. There were lots of questions asked, investigation done, but that had been a very rowdy period, with people thronging about everywhere in the premises. So the pool of potential suspects was vast. Continue reading


200019237-001My story starts after my graduation from the university. I was waiting to go on NYSC, and in the meantime, I decided to go visit an aunt in Lagos. During my vacation in Lagos, I started getting bored really quickly. So, I went on a popular gay dating site and met some prospective hookups.

Soon, I got chatting with this particular guy (a bastard who will rot in hell for eternity), and we exchanged Blackberry pins, and things got real really fast, with us exchanging profile pictures and nude photos. Soon, we got around to fixing for a meet. Somehow, the arrangement fell on me going out to see him at a rendezvous. Initially, I didn’t feel too comfortable with that, going to the location he suggested (Iba axis), seeing as I was still basically unaccustomed to the hustle and bustle of Lagos city. My instincts pled caution, but you know what they say: the spirit is cautious but the flesh is weak (that’s how they say it, right?) Anyway, I was all fired up to go see him, ignoring the still, small voice in my head. After all, I hadn’t had sex in a while, and my bujaina was starting to get filled with cobwebs.

On that afternoon, I finally arrived at the location. Continue reading


badoo-logoThis is a story that doubles as a community service – my contribution to making the gay world safer and a better place, one gist at a time.

This kito story didn’t happen to me. It happened to my friend in this great, big metropolis called Lagos. Let’s call this friend of mine Matthew. Matthew had just lost his job at an insurance firm not so long ago. That situation dumped him into hard times pretty fast. And he had to manage his body, soul and mind.

Some days ago, he was on his way to Trade Fair, in the direction of Okokomaiko. There was a friend he was going to meet to get some money from. For the trip, he’d eked out N1,000, one that had already cost him N300 to get to his destination. But unfortunately, this friend of his didn’t have any money to give to him. The trip was a bust, and he had nowhere else to go to but back home. Continue reading