AT THE END OF MY BREATH (Part 3)

AT THE END OF MY BREATH (Part 3)

Previously on AT THE END OF MY BREATH

*

I was starting to make new friends online, some of whom I’ve met and some of whom I haven’t. Dillish was one of these friends. As we got acquainted, I grew to like Dillish in a way that I’d never liked anyone before. He lived in Abuja while I was in Lagos. He never talked about his personal life. We would talk about almost everything but his family. After a few leading questions from me which he rebuffed, I realised he was being secretive about his personal life, and so I didn’t bother him.

The more time passed, the fonder of him I became. And he looked so good in the pictures he sent me, which had me fantasizing a lot about him. We grew close. He became the first person I would talk to when I woke up in the morning, before even praying, and the person I said good night to when I was ready for bed. As we couldn’t meet physically, we made up the distance by constantly communicating with each other, which lasted for a year.

Then it was time for me to write my JAMB exams. My siblings wanted me to choose Unilag as my university of choice, but I wanted to be as far away from my family as I could get. When I told Dillish about my JAMB issue, he encouraged me to choose the University of Abuja. When my siblings heard about my interest in Abuja, they objected heavily, talking about the strikes and non-accreditation of some of the courses in the school. Eventually, I settled for a school in the North, which wasn’t very far from Abuja. It was a perfect compromise, as both Dillish and my family were pleased by it. And so, I proceeded to apply for the school.

I passed my JAMB exam, and everyone – including myself – was happy that I was going to get admission that year. My joy however was rooted in the fact that I was finally going to be able to meet Dillish. He was also thrilled by the prospect of us meeting, and I began looking forward to my Post-UME exams in August.

August dragged its way to the present very slowly, something I found quite annoying. But it came eventually, and for the second time in my life, I was about to set out on a trip outside Lagos. I was excited, even though I would be going in the company of my sister, who’d also applied for admission in my school.

As we prepared for our trip the day before our departure, my dad instructed us to start heading immediately back to the park and thereafter to Lagos once we were done. He wanted us back home at once. I was very displeased by this, as I’d already planned on us going over to my older sister’s house in Abuja, where we would stay a couple of days to enable me to see Dillish. I tried to reason with my dad that we couldn’t just get back on the road for the long journey back to Lagos after our exams, but he wouldn’t listen. I became very crestfallen and very upset with my dad, and when I told Dillish about this development, he too was disappointed. He told me not to worry, that things may still work out for us.

The next day – a day before our exam – my sister and I got to the school. The following day, we wrote our Post UME exams. And when it was over, we began heading for the park. Suddenly feeling defiant, I called my older sister, the one living in Abuja, and asked her if we could come spend a week with her and go back home to Lagos in the upcoming weekend. I complained that I was too tired to embark on a trip back to Lagos. She said OK. But the sister who I wrote the exam with was opposed to the idea. The good little girl that she was just wanted to do what daddy said we should do. But I was in my mind, like: Bitch, you’re not about to fuck up my plans.

She proceeded to call our father, but before she could put the call through, her phone went off. Her battery had run out. It was as though the Fates were working in my favour. So, of course, she had to agree with the plan for us to head over to the nearby Abuja instead of the faraway Lagos.

Suddenly feeling a rejuvenated excitement, I called Dillish to let him know our situation, and he sounded very pleased.

The trip to Abuja took about three hours, and we got to Jabi in the evening. My sister came to pick us up at the park. The moment we got to her house, I called Dillish to ask him where he was staying. I told him we were in the resettlement area and he said that was where he lived too. He lived in Zone A, while I was in my sister’s house in Zone B. As we tried to decide on how to see the next day, he was insistent on coming over to my place to see me. I acquiesced.

But the Fates that had been on my side all along turned on me the next day. Before heading out to work, my sister told us that we couldn’t leave the house, that everything we needed was in the house. Wi-Fi, constant light, food. There was no excuse, according to her, for us to go anywhere. She added that if we disobey her and go out to anywhere, she would know because the house had cameras.

I couldn’t believe this. As she was talking, I stared at her in mounting dismay. I hadn’t defied my dad to come here for this!

In spite of this, I was determined. I was not going to be deterred from seeing Dillish, besides, my sister hadn’t said anything about not meeting anyone at her place.

When Dillish told me he was around, I went to the gate to meet him. I was standing there, looking around, hoping to see the man whose pictures I’d been fantasizing about.

The guy who waved at me however was not Dillish. Feeling a little unnerved, I called his number and this stranger answered. It was his voice, but it wasn’t his likeness. At least, not according to his pictures. I was infuriated as it dawned on me that this guy who I’d grown to like so much had catfished me. He had been this dishonest with me, despite how open I’d been with him and the whole year we’d spent getting to know each other.

He tried to explain to me why he did what he did, but I wouldn’t let him. My anger towered over him, and after I ripped him a new one, I turned inside and slammed the gate in his face.

When my sister came home that evening, during dinner, she asked me who I was talking to and screaming at when I went out to the gate. I stared at her, like: WTF! There was a camera at the gate too?

I told her it was a guy I met during my Post UME exam. She was going to say something to that, but I quickly cut in, telling her not to bother, that we didn’t take our exams in the same venue.

That night, Dillish kept calling me, but I wouldn’t answer his calls. Then he sent me a message, saying that there was a reason he was so secretive with his identity. Upon reading this, I finally relented, and so when he called yet again, I answered. He asked for us to meet again. I told him it wouldn’t be possible since my sister was monitoring us with cameras. I told him I was deeply hurt by his subterfuge, and he said I should give him a chance to get to know him in person. That he wasn’t a bad guy. I believed him and forgave him, and we carried on chatting like nothing happened.

It turned out that my sister and I couldn’t go back to Lagos that weekend, because of my nephew’s (my older sister’s son’s) birthday. So, we pushed our return to Lagos to the following weekend. At this point, I was devising lots of ways to see Dillish, but nothing seemed workable. My sister’s restrictions were a real pain in the ass.

But the Fates seemed to be back on my side, because the Wednesday after the birthday weekend, we all had to go for the Winners’ Chapel’s midweek service. I told Dillish this and we made rapid plans to use that as an opportunity to meet.

On that day, I met him at the church gate. As I got closer to him, he winked at me and I felt such a rush of warmth and pleasure go through me. Upon coming to stand before him, I realised that he was actually quite handsome. Even handsomer than the guy in the pictures he sent me. I also noticed the bags under his eyes and was startled to see that he had such an unhappy face, even though he was smiling at me. I observed some scars on his hands, and asked him what happened. He said we couldn’t talk there.

So, we began to stroll about the church premises, and he began to talk. He told me about how happy his childhood had been – that is, until his family found out he was gay in his first year of university abroad. His sister had caught him in a hookup; she reported him to the family, and his parents yanked him out of the school and back to Nigeria. When he returned home, his life took a decided turn for the bad. His family turned into strangers, with his parents constantly complaining about how they had caused this by sending him to an overseas university to be exposed to the corruption of the West. He talked about how he was subjected to all kinds of conversion therapy; the scars on his body were remnants of some of those crude conversion methods. His father, through his influence, then got him admission into the University of Abuja, but he wasn’t allowed to stay in school. Instead, a driver took him to school every day and he was expected back home at the end of his classes. His social media accounts were deleted and his online interactions were monitored.

I was astonished. I asked him how his parents could do this, considering how exposed and educated he said they were. And he responded that where religion is concerned, education and enlightenment tend to take a backseat. Apparently, they worshipped in those churches where congregants don’t wear any adornments. No earrings or jewelry of any sort.

I asked him how he’d been coping, and he said that he had become so lonely. Suicide had constantly been on his mind, that those conversion therapies had broken him. That he was just there, existing.

I felt really wretched by this and hastened to assure him that all would be well. He said he hoped so.

We’d been walking about the church compound for some time, and then went over to the restroom. Once we were inside, he shut the door and said he’d been dying to do this. And before I knew it, he’d leaned in and kissed me. I was at first surprised, and then, I settled into his embrace and kissed him back. His kiss was perfect. The restrained passion and tenderness of it sparked to life something inside me. I couldn’t explain it. I’d never felt it before. But I was positive it was something I wanted to go on feeling for this boy for the rest of my life.

When he broke the kiss, he looked into my eyes and said he loved me. When I didn’t respond, he asked if I felt the same. I told him I liked him very much, for sure, but I didn’t know what love is, didn’t know what it felt like to love someone. He nodded, saying he understood. That he was prepared to wait till I began feeling the same way for him.

We left the restroom holding hands. I may not know if I loved him, but I was sure about other things I felt for him. I wanted to be with him from that moment on. I wanted to care for him. I never wanted to leave his side.

It pained me to remind him that I’d be leaving Abuja the coming weekend. He said that was okay, that we would see on Friday. He went home and I went back to church. Service was soon over, and all I could think about was Dillish and about the kiss in the restroom. And all my thoughts did was make him keep smiling all day. His beautiful face, with those bags under his eyes and that deep unhappiness that didn’t seem to waver even when he smiled, was the last thing on my mind before I drifted off to sleep that night.

We couldn’t talk the next day till it was nighttime, at which time we made plans on how to see the next day. He told me where his house was; it was as though meeting me set him free from whatever restraints he had over his private life.

And then, I woke up on Friday morning to have my sister put us to work in the house. She called it environmental cleaning. I mean, who does environmental cleaning on a Friday?!!! I was so exasperated.

The housework took the whole morning to accomplish and I was exhausted when I finished. I got into my room and promptly slept off, leaving my phone charging in the sitting room.

I woke up at past 4pm, and the first thing that came to my mind was my phone. I went to get it and was startled to see that I had 76 missed calls. 76!!! All of them from Dillish! There were two messages from him too. Feeling upset with myself for sleeping off and at my sister for being the reason I possibly may not see Dillish before going back to Lagos, I called him back.

There was no response.

Then I clicked open the first message. It read: The best thing that ever happened to me is knowing that someone out there cared for me after all I’d been through. And the best moment of my life is kissing you in that restroom. I love you and I know you will eventually get to love me. So, please forgive me for breaking your heart with this action I am about to take.

Some unease began to settle in my heart as I clicked open the second message. It read simply: Tell my family I love them still, no matter what they think of me. Tell my mother that this abomination she gave birth to loves her and hopes they find peace after I’m gone.

I was crying desperately now, as I realized what must have happened. Tears were gushing down my face as I sobbed hard, even though a desperate part of me told me it couldn’t have happened. That he couldn’t have already done what his texts seemed to tell me he intended to do.

I jumped up and dashed out from the house, not minding what my sister would say when she got back. Remembering the description he gave me of his place, I rushed over there. All the way there, I kept wiping tears from my eyes, hoping this was at least a prank, or at the most, delayed. I got to the house, knocked on the gate, and the security man who came out to meet me asked who I was looking for.

When I told him, the next thing he said sent my heart plummeting.

“He don die.”

Letting out an anguished cry, I pleaded with him to let me into the house, that I had a message for Dillish’s parents. He led me to the house, and even as we approached, I could hear the screams of a woman coming from inside what I presumed was the living room.

We stepped inside, and I beheld the chaos of grief in the room. A woman I supposed was his mother was the one screaming. A man was seated on the sofa, most likely his dad, looking blankly into nothingness. People surrounded them, consoling them.

And I stood there, staring at them and hating them – these people I’d never met before – for putting Dillish through the hell that drove him to take his life. Nobody even seemed to notice me, and I stood there, unable to check the tears that began rolling down my face again.

But I had a message to deliver. I approached the screaming woman hesitantly, and that was when I was noticed. I wiped my eyes and with some difficulty, introduced myself as Dillish’s friend and told them that before he died, he sent me a message he said I should deliver to his family. I showed his mother the message and she read it. Then she dropped my phone as she started screaming again, uncontrollable in her renewed grief.

I left the house, hoping that their guilt would never let them rest for what they did to their son.

I got back to my sister’s house, went straight to my room and cried myself to sleep. I woke up in the early hours of the morning and opened my phone diary. And as I wrote, I told myself that I would never let this happen to me. Dillish’s death served to strengthen my resolve to make me the only person responsible for my happiness. My life was changed by the death of the boy who I liked very much.

But it was a struggle, living that life. I got admission into my school but I’d lost interest in my education. I kept getting attacked by bouts of depression, however much I tried to live. I did well in my first semester, but my results started dropping from second semester. I found myself unable to let go of Dillish. I kept on thinking about him. I couldn’t move on, no matter how hard I tried. And the more I thought about him, the lonelier I got.

It was around this time that the pain on my side started. It came in flashes at first. But then it progressed gradually, through my listlessness in school and eventual dropping out, until that day in November when it consumed my life.

***

I finished my story here and sat back, staring at my stunned audience of fellow patients and doctors. Then the responses began coming in a rush; everyone had something to say – except for the very homophobic Ade, that is. The therapist kept staring at me, looks which I returned with a small smile. I was scheduled for further sessions, and was discharged the next day.

When I got home that evening, I opened my phone diary. For some moments, I stared at the screenshots I made of Dillish’s messages to me. I remembered how desperately I’d held on to them as a link to the boy I lost.

Then I said, “No more.” And deleted them.

In the days since that day, I have been striving to do the much I can to give to our community, to help with those who may be going through such pain and psychological issues that I’ve been through. In that vein, I want to appreciate Pink Panther for this platform, for its presence and the way it has helped me so much and provided me with so much to learn. I want to thank contributions from people like Mandy, Higwe, Delle, Vhar, Francis, Mitch, Orobo Hunter, Audrey and others who I can’t really remember.

Thank you so very much.

Written by Dillish

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49 Comments

  1. Kainene
    November 17, 08:10 Reply

    Thank you for this…thank you.

    • slender
      November 18, 20:35 Reply

      i feel like the whole world need to read this story! sad sad sad

  2. Net
    November 17, 08:17 Reply

    This made me cry, thanks for sharing your story with us

  3. Mandy
    November 17, 08:32 Reply

    I legit teared up at this. I am sad. I am angry. I am frustrated. All the lives are just go to waste simply because families won’t accept them for who they are. I feel so touched by the pain in this story.

    One thing I find consoling is that at least, Dillish found one reason to be happy before he took his life: he kissed you and he fell in love with you. It seems like that was what he was waiting for, a reason to be happy, before he leaves this life.

    Thank you, Dillish, for sharing this story. A Hollywood film would attach the contact details of a suicide watch organisation for those feeling suicidal to contact at the end of such a story. But we can only make do with the hope that this story, your story, will inspire us to live.

    • Dillish
      November 17, 12:19 Reply

      Hey Mandy! You are one of the people who kept me hooked on this platform with your contributions. I learnt so much and for that I’m grateful. Thanks for the words of encouragement.

  4. Sim
    November 17, 08:42 Reply

    Oh my god!

    I’m sorry brother.. I can only imagine the pain but I’m glad and relieved you have taken control of your situation.
    Keep living and keep being you. I learnt something from your story.

    • Dillish
      November 17, 11:55 Reply

      Thank you for the words of encouragement Sim. In response to your question in the previous episodes I am O positive and also AA.
      Is there anything you feel I should know? If yes, can I reach you personally??

  5. Sworld
    November 17, 08:43 Reply

    Quite intriguing!, well detailed!

    Real healing is hard, exhausting and draining. I am glad you let yourself got through the process without painting it as anything other what it is.

    I’m also so happy that later got to heal by yourself with NO judgement which could have killed you.

    Sending Love, Hope and of a new dillish that never dies cross your path again.

    “LOVE IS Real and it’s BEAUTIFUL “

    • Dillish
      November 17, 11:57 Reply

      Thank you so much. I really appreciate. I’m still healing as my doctor said I have to be on med for a very long time

  6. trystham
    November 17, 08:49 Reply

    Wait!!!!!! The Dillish who used to comment on here when KD first started suicided, abi I am the one who is reading different?
    Where is Max??? Chizzie nko? Macaulay???

    • Pink Panther
      November 17, 09:02 Reply

      Lol. Trystham, you’re confused. Go to Part 2 and read the last line on it.

    • Francis
      November 17, 09:08 Reply

      They are all fine last I checked.

  7. Francis
    November 17, 09:02 Reply

    Really sad and pissed at homophobic people especially the ones that ought to know to better. They stay ruining lives all in the name of God. I’m sad for your tragic loss and subsequent suffering but happy that you’ve started your journey towards healing and you’re making YOU a priority onward as we all should as this life no get part 2.

    Stay strong and thanks for sharing this with us. I’m glad I stuck through till the finish. Hugs

    • Dillish
      November 17, 12:01 Reply

      Thanks so much and for the words of encouragement. I am still healing

  8. Zoar
    November 17, 09:49 Reply

    I couldn’t hold my tears as I read those notes from Dillish to you and his family.

    This is what Jesus said about Love Being the bedrock of human existence.

    With that singular Word that has been bastardized by humans now. The world can be a better place.

    I pray Dillish receives all the love he was yearning for in heaven.😭😭.

  9. Segun
    November 17, 11:47 Reply

    This story reinforces the need for Nigerian gays to be their brothers’ keepers.

    There’s a saying by Socrates, “Be kind, for everyone is going through a battle.” If the writer had rejected Dillish on the first meeting on the basis of something as flimsy as physical looks, that would have deepened his rejection and made the tragic happenstance occur earlier than it did.

    I like the fact that he still listened to him and showed him love the last time they met. I have known many gays who have acted in such arrogant, snobbish and dismissive ways towards guys based on their physical looks, ethnicity, weight, social class and even religion.

    This has to stop. There’s more to being gay than sex. There are times we need to step into other people’s world; listen to their hurts, fears, rejection and grief and extend a hand of acceptance, love and understanding to them. That’s how real life works.

    Many gay men have resorted to suicide, not only because of the toxic environment they found themselves in, but also the level of intolerance and rejection within the community itself.

    • Francis
      November 17, 11:50 Reply

      📣📣 We pray to continue doing our best

    • Dillish
      November 17, 12:06 Reply

      I agree with you wholeheartedly. Those who are victims of this are mostly our young gays who are still growing up and still finding it difficult to accept each other. Most of our old folks alienated themselves using age as a barrier as it can be seen on grindr

    • KingB
      November 18, 11:57 Reply

      God bless you for this. I’ve been able to grow a thick skin to this but then what about people that aren’t strong willed?

  10. Mitch
    November 17, 12:05 Reply

    I really don’t know what to say to this. I don’t know whether I should feel sad about the beautiful life that was wasted or angry at the families that ruin people’s lives in the name of trying to help them and pandering to religion.

    This is why I’m the way I am.
    There’s only so much bullshit you can take before you snap. And I’m definitely never giving anyone the power to hurt me like this, to break me to the extent that my life ceases to have any meaning. I’d fight back. And I’d fight back hard and dirty. I’d rather kill them all than allow them kill me.

    And, Dillish, try to let go of the guilt and pain you’ve pushed deep inside you. None of this was your fault. Instead of feeling this guilt, remember the good times, the beautiful things, the special moments and all else about him. Don’t let this pain be the reason you stop living.

    Please!

  11. Dillish
    November 17, 12:15 Reply

    Dear pink panther,
    I can’t thank you enough but I will continue to thank you till I breathe my last. Honestly if not for this platform and people’s contribution, only God knows where I would have been by now. I have been inspired here, I learnt a lot from peoples entries. The pain has reduced to a great extent and only comes when I expose myself to cold or think too much. But aside that,I’m fine as long as I keep taking my medication. In a special way, please help me thank a certain Kay who took his time to enlighten me and broaden my knowledge on sexuality and self acceptance since the day of 2go.

  12. Higwe
    November 17, 12:58 Reply

    Most people come into our lives for two different reasons :

    To build us .

    To break us .

    But once in a while we have those people that build us , break us then leave us to heal , rejuvenate and rebuild ourselves…

    I think Dillish did just that…

    He added colour and lustre to a rather palish life then took it all away.

    But you didn’t go back to where you were headed to , rather you chose better – you chose to live .

    For that, I greatly commend you .

    Dillish’s story is definitely tragic but yours doesn’t have to be.

    Treasure his memory .

    Take the lesson ..

    And of course, soldier on .

    Whenever you’re feeling downcast and you think * I can’t go on *

    Always remember everything you’ve had to overcome and how far you’ve come .

    Think of everyone that has written you off and how much glee you’ll get from rubbing your success on their faces .

    And most importantly think of Dillish and how much he would love you to be stronger than he was and not let his death be for nothing .

    Wishing you happiness , laughter , success and a much more improved health .😍

    Goodluck and thanks for the mention…I’m humbled .😎

  13. Someone's Someone
    November 17, 13:20 Reply

    My heart is heavy reading this. I can’t cry, my heart has seen so much pain that it’s impossible for me to cry anymore. This story was bitter-sweet and I would love to see it made into a movie. Thank you Dillish for sharing your world with us. I pray that you heal and find love again. XoXo

    • Posh666
      November 18, 17:36 Reply

      Well there’s a movie with a somewhat similar story line titled ” A prayer for Bobby”

  14. Delle
    November 17, 13:28 Reply

    This is just overwhelming. And as I type this, the tears are still rolling down my cheeks. I love you, Dillish and this journey you took us on with you, this pain you allowed us feel.
    Thank you.

    If you won’t mind, I’ll love your contact details. I have a lot of questions to ask.

    And yeah, I’m glad my stories on here have imparted on you. So glad. Thanks again ❤

  15. VINA
    November 17, 14:11 Reply

    I know I’m supposed to be sad but I’m not, I’m mad, I’m angry and it makes me realize that our happiness is really just in our hands. Sometimes family is the very enemy and we must learn to remove sentiment and cut off from them if we can.

    I’m sorry for your pain and I hope you get better.

    May his sweet gay soul rest in peace. We will see him in heaven 🙏

  16. Uchennna
    November 17, 15:01 Reply

    Hi Dilish. I’m currently reading a book titled You Can Heal Your Life by Louise hay. The book traces the root cause of diseases to thought and behavioural patterns we have in our minds. I wasn’t surprised when i checked the metaphysical cause for pain and i saw “Guilt. Guilt always seeks punishment”. While you take your meds, I’ll advise you to create a daily healing ritual for yourself where you look in the mirror and Express forgiveness and acceptance to the person in the mirror. A part of you might still be feeling guilty for his death and metaphysicallly, guilt will always create pain. The recommended affirmation is ” I lovingly release the past. They are free and i am free. All is well on my heart now”. Say this as many times as you can during
    the day.

    Sending you love.

  17. kristo
    November 17, 15:07 Reply

    dilish killed himself!?….WHOA!!!!!

  18. bamidele
    November 17, 17:15 Reply

    We have a society whereby murder is upheld in the name of religion. We often focus on boko haram; but there are deadlier killers–in the name of religious fanaticism, who are worse than boko haram. The parents killed Dilish; and we have millions of Nigerians undergoing this kind of trauma, irrespective of their sexual orientation. mmm…

  19. Sim
    November 17, 18:05 Reply

    @Dillish ,
    Life is a gift.. per ur response. I asked cus I have seen under-diagnosed and rare case of SS with same symptoms in ur earlier post. The O2 conc during the crisis was a pointer and eventually Led to a proper diagnosis.
    I have a better perspective now that ur story is completely told. I’m glad ur healing and your experience will definitely make u a good LGBT inclusive advocate should you ever wish.

  20. Malik
    November 17, 20:22 Reply

    This broke me so bad. I felt a rush of anger and deep, dark grief all at once. I hope Dillish looks down and sees that his life counted and that he’s still loved and remembered by you.

    But I also want to know if therapy is helping your physical symptoms. Wish you a full healing dear.

  21. Marvey
    November 17, 20:35 Reply

    I have been following this diary for close to two years now and I have been soo shy to place a comment,my type of person sha….but this particular post broke that chain..have being having chills reading it right from the first part..soo much pain you must have felt dillish.is hard enough to lose someone you love from a natural death talkless of someone that confided in you the last moment he took his life..so so sorry about what you gotta go through but alas shit happens anyway especially when you have spirikoko parents..Take good care of your self..you owe your self the best happiness the world can offer..And thanks pinky for this wonderful platform.and to the two couples that makes me laugh all the time : higwe and Mitch, with there individual teams .you guys are wonderful!!

  22. Audrey
    November 17, 23:25 Reply

    I’m too emotional right now to type anything sensible right now I’d rather come back when I’m more stable.Thanks for the shout out and I’m glad you are in a better state of health.

  23. Jake
    November 17, 23:56 Reply

    I legit cried reading this, I can only imagine the pain you had to go through. Loving someone and loosing them is probably one of the worst ordeal you can face. But you’re doing better and please be better. Life has handed you lemons but you’ve made lemonades out of it. Be proud of how far you’ve come. Thank you for sharing your story with us and enlightening us. We are here for you should in case you need anything. Sending tons of love and light your way💜💜💜

  24. Tman
    November 18, 01:11 Reply

    Broadly, we’re a community, but on here, we’re family. I’m really impressed by the warmth and love that’s been shown to the narrator after his poignant ordeal, it’s engulfing. I appreciate our show if concern and empathy, it’s the least we could do for anonymous strangers we share an identity with.

    Dillish I’m proud of your persistence, your grit and determination not to let life’s situation overcome you. I’m glad you’ve been able to move on from the life-changing experience, if not totally, and hope you continue being strong.

    I love you mate!

  25. Blue
    November 18, 01:21 Reply

    Ok I cried! I fucking cried!!!!

  26. Kelvin
    November 18, 03:06 Reply

    My deepest condolences on your loss mate. I’m short of words cos of my emotions, we will all be fine.

  27. Bhaws
    November 18, 03:55 Reply

    Wow. Aight imma go cry!! He must have been really strong to commit suicide because lets face it, you have to make efforts to kill yourself, to risk pain and sorrows. As someone who has tried it, its so much easier to be dripping past life everyday compeletely dead inside. Strangely i salute people who committed suicide, they told the universe to go fuck itself! The ultimate middle finger.

  28. RandomReader
    November 18, 08:01 Reply

    This legit brought tears to my eyes and gave me sleepless night yesterday. Nigeria is so religious and yet we are so backward. Religion will be the end of this country. Dillish love , you did your best and I hope that God forgives all your sins and give you the happiness you lacked on earth. This is currently my life situation. Parents be asking me who my partner is and if we live in the same house and same room. Had to use the “room mate ” tag. But I think this is the last time. When I return home , I will not smell Nigeria again. My elder sister told us once that if she finds out any of her brothers was gay , she would stab him to death and I was like errrrrr. One religion is not gonna make me forfeit my own happiness. A lot of young men have died because no one really knows them and you feel you are living a life for show.

  29. King
    November 18, 09:59 Reply

    Over 3yrs of following KD no courage to comment talkless of telling my story….
    Madmen and specialist a case of Nigeria religious hypocrisy. It hurts to see people die for causes that cud be cured with love and acceptance. A lot people are on the edge trying and weakening out cos of what they make us feel. This story made me cry and I wish we could always come out for our community regardless of what the society thinks or feels about us

    I’m sorry for your loss Dillish am glad you decided to live deliberately sending you lot of hope, strength to carry-on, grace to do more for luv

  30. Fizzykareem
    November 18, 14:47 Reply

    I literally cried for this.Thank you dillish for sharing your story..
    And also my condolences for your loss.. sending you a lot of love, strength and courage to keep surviving

  31. Orobo Hunter
    November 18, 22:03 Reply

    Wow! I am overwhelmed with emotion right now. My goodness. I’m sorry for what you went through Dillish. Wow!

    I know someone like Dillish and my sincere fear is that it doesn’t end up the same way.

    *deep sigh*

    This country men! Fuck this country!!!!!!

    I hope you’re better now and the pain is gone? I really wish you the best,man. Please take good care of yourself. Love x Light

  32. Temi
    November 18, 22:17 Reply

    Ahhhh since i started reading this story from part 1 I just don’t know I’ve been dumfounded. I honestly don’t know … I’m just speechless. Thanks for sharing your story I pray God grant you the strength — sending you prayer, light and love.

  33. Cuddlecake
    November 20, 09:50 Reply

    I couldn’t stop crying.
    I pray this doesn’t happen to me.
    I might end up in a psychiatric hospital.
    I just let go of the hurt form a relationship just last week. He broke up with me for no reason may 16th 2016 since then I zeroed my mind and labeled anyone that came my way a User.I refused falling in love, I refused sex, i had trust issues.
    Just last week after I let me self go and had sex with my sec sch crush I felt very free again.
    I didn’t think it too much,
    I just told myself “hey, yes you like him, yes you had sex with him, stop having ideas and move on.”
    If not for people’s stories that I have read on KD I am not sure I would have healed now.
    Pinky thank you so much.
    Dilish you are a strong man. Thank you for letting go.
    And to everyone struggling with self acceptance, family, society, disappointment, hurt, please I beg you. Heal and let go.

  34. David Kamdili
    November 20, 23:56 Reply

    Thanks for the story, Dillish. Sure, everyone dies at the end. But if you mean something to someone. If you helped someone, or loved someone. If even a single person remembers you, then maybe you never really died at all.

    Dillish is still alive. He resonates in you.

  35. Rudy
    November 21, 16:17 Reply

    You did right by telling the story of the actual Dillish. Life is a class filled with lessons. Think of it this way, if you hadn’t gone through all this pain and realisations this story of Dillish would have been kept in the dark where none of us could have the privilege to know and learn from as well. If this story could change a homophobe’s heart or make a queer kid or adult accept who they are or even mutter the word “gay” whiles looking inside the mirror without any sort of apprehension, then your job is done Dillish. Let go of any pain and heal because guess what your story is medicinal. Dillish will be looking down below at you and will be prouder than ever knowing you had his back even in his death.
    And for that I say well done!
    With regards to your situation about the pain the condition seems to be “Fibromyalgia or Fibrositis” which is
    a musculoskeletal pain accompanied with fatigue, sleeplessness or excess sleepiness, mood and memory issues. It could be triggered by severe psychological stress, physical trauma, surgery and infection and in your case the former has already been made clear. It causes such severe pain something as similar as what you’ve described here and usually accompanied with anxiety and depression. Unfortunately there’s no medical treatment for this condition yet, however the pain could be controlled and subdued with medication. Psychological stress could indeed cause physical pain as the brain is responsible for and control all our body sensations hence any stress or harm caused to the brain could manifest in many ways unimaginable. The silver lining here in your case is the fact that you’re healing from your psychological trauma which was the cause and which will be imperative in your journey towards recovery.
    Please read more into Fibromyalgia and bring it up with your GP as well, I’m certain you’ve already won this battle.
    You did right by Dillish and yourself just by unveiling the curtain to the window of your world through sharing your story.
    I’m proud of you man, well done!

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