LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 34)

Blog_Love And Sex In The City 02“Nawa o!” Ekene exclaimed, punctuating his words with a snap of his fingers. “Adebola went too far abeg. What nonsense.”

“It’s ridiculous, really, guys who will go to any great lengths to be bad just for another guy,” Yinka said as he steered his car past the gateway of the Maison Fahrenheit Hotel.

“Straight people do much worse in their relationships,” Ekene rejoined tersely. “Drama due to jealousy is not exclusive to gay relationships.”

“I’m not saying it is,” Yinka said. “And I’m not trying to go the ‘he’s a man like you, you shouldn’t fight over him’ route. I’m simply saying that if it’s me, gay or straight, I would never stress myself over another human being.”

“Yea well, you’ve never been in love,” Ekene said. When Yinka opened his mouth to speak, he quickly added, “And don’t even wave that your ‘I’m in a relationship’ flag. What you and Dayo are doing is a joke, as far as I’m concerned.” Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 29)

Blog_Love And Sex In The City 02When I woke up on that Monday morning, a week after the Sunday fiasco at Yinka’s place, I could hear Bryson in the shower. I remained lying in bed without moving, deliciously tired and content. There was a warm, wonderful glow inside me, and I didn’t want to move in case it went away.

I could see from the luminous dial of the clock perched on the nightstand that it was some minutes to 6am. And the glom of the dawn cloaked the inside of the room, not entirely hiding its unfamiliarity from me. In the two weeks since I began officially dating Bryson, last week was when I first visited him at his place, and subsequently began spending the night frequently with him, leaving for work from his bed. It was longer, more tedious commute, from Festac to Yaba, but the prospect of the passion expended on his sheets at night and the contentment that came from waking to his morning musk far outweighed the inconvenience of striving through the hectic traffic of the morning.

“You’re just in the honeymoon phase,” Yinka said when we talked on the phone on Thursday night, the third night I spent at Bryson’s place. “Everything with and about him seems so easy now, so blissful. It gives you the fortitude to simply breeze through everything else. Your parents could disown you now, and you wouldn’t mind. After all, you’ve got another daddy giving you what you truly need.”

I could imagine the impish expression on his face as he said that, and I roared with laughter at the imagination and his words. Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 26)

Blog_Love And Sex In The City 02FOREWORD: Just a quick one, guys; if you’re on BBM, do kindly join the Kito Diaries BBM Channel. The pin is C00250513. Or you may scan the barcode below. Thanks. 🙂BBM Channel_KD

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Lagos on a Sunday morning was what I suspected other cities, sleepier metropolises, would be on a bustling day. There wasn’t the usual crush of pedestrians plying the sidewalks, and the roads weren’t encumbered with motorists impatient to get to their destinations and yet unable to make good on their haste. There were not a lot of passengers waiting at the bus stops, and as such, the minimal number of commercial buses in the traffic hurtled down the roads, only pausing for very brief stops.

The bus conveying me soon got to Oshodi, and the passengers alighted, some of them staying put when the conductor began yodeling, “Cele-Ilasa-Mile Toooo! Cele-Ilasa-Mile Toooo!”

I was headed for Mile Two, but I had had enough of the rickety heap the driver, himself as aged as his vehicle, was powering. In spite of the day, Oshodi was quite astir with activity, unwilling to succumb to the unhurriedness of Sunday, like a young mother reluctant to let go of her only child on his first play-date. The area didn’t have its characteristic horde of people and traffic, but there was still enough chaos and the day was warm enough to make me wish I was spending the day back home, in the comfort of my bedroom.

I soon located and got into another bus, a newer-looking vehicle with a younger man behind the wheel. Both driver and conductor were puffy-eyed, coarse-voiced and in good spirits, as though still riding the high from a very good last night.

Where are you now? Jaja pinged me the moment I got settled inside the bus. Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 22)

Blog_Love And Sex In The CityGuys, please, whenever y’all finish from your day this evening, come over to my place. I need to share an urgent situation with you. I need ideas. I need strategies. I need help!

I glanced for what has to be the umpteenth time at the broadcast that Jonathan sent in the morning. When I read it immediately after he sent it, I’d felt an instant anxiety over what the problem was. Jonathan is not one given to theatrics, so the tone of the message was very worrying. If either Ekene or Eddie had sent this, I wouldn’t be so bothered. I’d immediately pinged him back in the morning, but none of my messages delivered. When I tried calling him, he didn’t pick my calls. A quick succession of calls to the rest of the gang revealed nothing. Neither of them knew why Jonathan wanted to see us.

“I was even going to call you to find out if you knew what is going on with him,” Adebola said when I quizzed him.

“No, I don’t,” I replied.

“That’s odd.”

It was odd. The seven of us were best friends, but even within the gang, we had subtle factions, cliques made up of those who migrated more easily to one or two other persons than the others. Yinka, Ekene and I were a tighter-knit group, in much the same way that Biola and Adebola were, as well as Eddie and Paschal. Jonathan had always been the solitary one in the gang, primarily because he felt that the rest of us were gayer than he was. He after all had a woman in his life, and we didn’t. Continue reading

WHILE WE WERE YET KIDS (Part 2)

To read WHILE WE WERE YET KIDS (Part 1), click HERE

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g1The next morning could not come fast enough. So at the crack of dawn, we were awake and rearing to go. In the daylight, the ugliness and utter dilapidation of the environment in which we spent the night was stark.

One of the runs I came to see, a married guy, had called me the previous night, and I informed him of our relocation from Iyana Ipaja to Shomolu. He offered to come pick us up and drive us over to Shomolu.

So the morning saw us inside the perfumed, air-conditioned, plush-leathered Honda of the man I met for the first time that day, chattering and quickly recovering from our horrendous ordeal the night before, as he drove us to Shomolu. His wife was out of town, and he actually offered us accommodation in his place at Ikeja. But as appealing as that was, I wasn’t ready to curtail the freedom this trip to Lagos was offering. I’d go to stay in his place, and the next thing I’d know, all the excitement I was out to get would take a nosedive. The man (let’s call him Mr. Big) actually believed he was the one reason why I came to Lagos. #shakingmyhead The sheer naïveté. Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 12)

FOREWORD: The latter part of this episode of Love And Sex In The City was informed by an actual occurrence involving two friends of mine, whose rights as a citizen of Nigeria were threatened. Oftentimes, our rights are trampled on and abused by the very same public servants whose job it is to preserve them. And in that rare case when an individual who knows his rights stands up for it – and wins – it begs for stupendous admiration and an ovation. I have applauded that friend. This episode is to let him know of my admiration for his effort as well. Check on it.

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Blog_Love And Sex In The City“Can you just imagine!” Ekene burst out furiously. “Eh? When will we TBs learn to love ourselves in this country, learn not to backstab and cut down and take advantage of our fellow guys in this Nigeria, eh?”

“Honestly, it’s disturbing,” Adebola said. “The lengths some of us go to malign the rest of us is shocking.”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned is old school,” quipped Biola. “Both hell and a woman scorned have nothing on a vindictive gay guy.”

My friends were still reacting to my news of what transpired at my workplace yesterday. It was Saturday, and Biola, Adebola, Eddie and I were back at Biola’s new place. Ekene and Jonathan were here too; Paschal couldn’t make it because he went on a booty call in Ikoyi (somewhere in Lagos State, a middle-aged, well-to-do queen was getting properly fucked). And Yinka was still away on a job.

“We should teach this Jim guy a lesson,” Eddie said. “Dee, do you have his photo. Give it to me, with his number and Facebook and Twitter accounts. I’ll just update his entire shameless profile on my blog, and shame him for all my readers.”

“Eddie!” the rest of us gasped laughingly. Continue reading

WHILE WE WERE YET KIDS

g1I recently took a trek down memory lane, remembering those days of my past as a gay Nigerian, fresh out of my teenage years. Wait, I was eighteen or nineteen. So, scratch that ‘fresh out’ bit. And these memories awakened different reactions from me as I pondered them. A reminiscent smile. A ‘what was I thinking’ cringe. A ‘did that really happen’ incredulity.

I decided to share one particular memory because it stayed with me the longest, especially since I’d just recently read Queer Mike’s A LOT LIKE LOVE, which smacked of ‘Johnny Just Come Lagos.’

I live in Lagos, and I’d like to think that I’ve been hewn appropriately by the city’s unpredictability, unreliability and topsy-turvy way of life. But I wasn’t always Lagos-savvy. I was brought up in the East, and my earliest visits to the city were under the care and supervision of my parents. My mother would accompany me to Lagos during my holiday, drop me off at my uncle’s place and then return home to the East. And then, I’d spend the vacation either being a homebody or being shepherded through sightseeing outings by older cousins. And when my holiday was over, a cousin would put me in a bus and my parent would be at the park back home, waiting to receive me.

As is typical of this kind of sheltered upbringing, I silently rebelled. I wanted to visit Lagos, see Lagos on my own terms, and not under the stranglehold of family. But such a venture required financial means and a place to stay in the city, all of them options which I didn’t have. Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 2)

Previously on Love And Sex In The City: Introducing Declan in the city of Lagos, on the day that followed the introduction of the anti-gay bill by the Nigerian Senate. His sexcapade with a guy from a party, and his getting dumped by his older male lover, Benson. (Read HERE)

And now, on to today’s episode.

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China GBC Project“Who is Iyke and what do you mean he fucked you?”

My heart skipped a beat as I turned to watch my sister, Tonia pad into my room.

That winch! Doesn’t she ever knock?

“Don’t you ever knock?” I groused.

“And that answers my question how?” she sallied, plopping down on my bed.

Up. Fucked me up, that’s what I said. The guy is my friend who disappointed me today.”

“Phew!” Tonia mimed swiping sweat from her forehead with her fingers. “I for fear. With all this talk about the senate passing an anti-gay bill, the last thing I need is to start worrying if my brother likes taking it up his ass.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY

Hello, guys. It’s yours truly, Pink Panther, and I have embarked on a fictional series, one which I will be updating once every week. The story will be chronicling the city life of a Lagos dude – his hook-ups and break-ups and sexcapades and all-what-not. I’m not going to hold back on the raunchiness, so all ye prudish readers, try not to protest too much at my use of strong language, will you? 🙂

Here it is, the episode one. Read and enjoy.

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LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 1)

China GBC ProjectI went to the birthday party on Thursday night. I didn’t think I’d have a very good time but I ended up enjoying the night immensely, but that wasn’t because of the actual party.

Yinka and I arrived fashionably late, and everyone else was already there, although I wouldn’t have a clue, I didn’t know any of them apart from Yinka. It was his friend who was hosting the small bash. The apartment was in a secluded part of Ajah, the party was in full swing, and some hips were already rolling to something Flavour was crooning through the speakers. I took a quick visual reconnoiter of the house as we sauntered in, and my heart sank because I couldn’t see any cute guys at all. Continue reading