VIDEO: Straight Guy Brought To Tears After Asking About The Choice Of Being Gay

gay1-931867cbcf3d0a33168e83a17219b3f4Last month, there broke the horrific story of a gay teen who was verbally abused, physically assaulted and kicked out of his home by his family because he is gay.

The video went viral and generated an outpouring of financial support for the teen that he went on to donate a portion of to a homeless shelter.

After popular straight YouTube vlogger SupDaily06 saw the video, he felt compelled to address the incident. As a part of his response video, the vlogger asked his followers a simple question: if you could choose to be gay or straight, which would you choose?

The responses moved him the tears. Check out the video below to see for yourself.

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

My Prayer For Us All

First, a fellow kitodiariesian mentioned it in one of his comments, about a friend of his who was murdered in a hook-up gone wrong. Then a friend sent me the link to where it was reported online. He’d been abducted, ransomed and later killed. A young, good-looking, promising gay man with his whole life ahead of him – that life now suddenly, brutally cut short.

And his crime was simply that he lusted after who this country thinks he shouldn’t desire.

I didn’t want to say anything on KD about this. I rejected outrightly the notion of even updating a post on the murder. But as I contemplated it, I felt a deep grief in my heart. I don’t even know the deceased, but I can imagine the horror, the despair he must have felt in the final moments of his life. And my imagination of it, my relation to his pain, brought tears to my eyes.

And it made me say a prayer, one I’d like to now share with y’all. 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


others 106This is not a work of fiction.

It happened on the 18th of July, 2014.

It was 6:25pm and I had just closed from work. Auditors had been around from the head office, scrutinizing every expense and examining every receipt, all the while drinking tea; tea I secretly wished I had laced with poison.

Anyway, I finally turned into the entrance of my street, looking forward to eating the marinated chicken (that’s what ‘oga’ called it) that my significant other had prepared for me the previous day. A few blocks down my street, I saw a crowd gathered, which wasn’t really a strange sight in the city of Port Harcourt, so I drove on. The crowd however somehow parted and I caught a glimpse of a young man naked to his underwear sitting on the floor. Must be a unlucky thief that was caught, I thought to myself. I hated mob justice, but good luck trying to stop an irate mob. So I made to continue down the road. The crowd parted again somehow, and I saw another figure seated beside the man I had seen before, and I had an instant tachycardia. I recognized the second guy; he had popped up on my Badoo’s ‘People Nearby’, and had tried to chat me up. But with ‘oga’ around, I did not respond. So I was instantly disturbed, because in my gut I already knew what was going on, and I was scared. Continue reading

This Is War! Kenyan gay community fights back against oppression

Originally published in

kitoThe Kenya gay community should be allowed to punish and deal with blackmailers, with whatever means necessary, it seems.

News that several alleged gay blackmailers have been killed or beaten by mobs was largely welcome by the gay community especially after suffering for years from a select group of gay men who extorted and stole money, and property from their victims.

The initial case was one where a notorious blackmailer was beaten and stoned to death by a mob that was answering to an alarm raised by one of the victim. Just this month, two other blackmailers were shot dead by police in what was allegedly a case of blackmail gone wrong after their victim alerted the police.

And last week, the last known hard-core criminal and blackmailer, Joseph Makau (pictures above), was beaten to near death by a mob in a failed blackmail attempt at Tassia estate in Nairobi. Continue reading

Homosexuality In Nigeria: The Struggle To Survive

nigerian gaysHomosexuals with HIV/AIDS are struggling to survive.

Since Nigeria passed a law criminalising homosexuality in January, Gordon Austin has faced attacks, abuse, arrests and extortion in the south-western city of Ibadan. And the legislation has had an even more insidious effect on the 25-year-old. He is HIV-positive: getting health care has become harder. “I am not safe going to public health centres because of who I am,” he says. “I would never tell them I am a gay man—they would deny me treatment.” To get life-preserving antiretroviral drugs, he has to lie about his sexuality. “I have to pretend I am heterosexual because of the stigma,” he explains. “I have to live a fake life, a life that is not mine, just to get the health care I need.” 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