HIS KITO STORY (EDITION 30)

HIS KITO STORY (EDITION 30)

It was 2015 and I was living in Kaduna. (I have actually lived in Kaduna all my life) I was entering my final year in the university at the time. During the long holiday, I moved to Jos to stay awhile with my uncle. He had just taken up a job which would send him far away on weekdays, leaving his house empty, and he didn’t want to give the house away. That was why I was asked to come over. I wasn’t alone in the house though; there was this other guy, Lex, who was also inhabiting my uncle’s house.

That same year, I’d met this guy on Manjam. Dude was sweet, charming and you could literally sense how intelligent he was from the way he spoke. I pride myself on being a very cautious person, and there were no red flags with this guy. He was always there; we’d talk for long hours on the phone, video chat, and he’d never ask for inappropriate pictures like most guys do. He seemed to genuinely care about me, which made me like him even more. He got to know a lot about me because I opened up to him, something I rarely do. And when I was asked to come to Jos, I informed him; I mean, we were a thing, so I should tell him, right?

He never asked for us to meet until I moved to Jos. The problem however was that he was staying in Kano (about 3 hours away from Jos). Yes, it was close enough, but every time he brought up the issue of me coming to see him, I always diverted the discussion. Because of my cautious nature, I wasn’t ready to make such a trip.

But by the last week of November, when the request had become persistent and a lot more persuasive, I finally agreed. I told him my visit would have to be on a week day because I had to be at home by the weekend; my uncle would be coming back.

Dude rejoiced (oh my poor self). I was to leave on Monday, but I developed cold feet, and pushed it further back two days. Early Wednesday morning, I left for Kano, after informing Lex that I was going to see a coursemate of mine and would be back later that day. I got to Kano before midday, called him, and he said he was at the office, but that he would send his boy to come and pick me up at the park. I had spoken to this his boy before, so I was somewhat relaxed about the arrangement. (I should have taken the next car back home, but I decided to wait).

His boy soon came and picked me up. As he drove, we gisted. And this made me become more relaxed.

Soon, we got to a gate, and he parked outside and said we should walk inside. Immediately I crossed the threshold of the gate into the compound, I sensed something was wrong. I had started telling him that I needed to buy airtime to make a call, and was turning to get out, when two other guys emerged from nowhere and grabbed me, dragging me into the building in the compound, into a room at the back of the house. There were two other guys waiting there.

And in that moment, I knew my life was over.

They began slapping me. Hard. Slaps that knocked me to the ground. Then they pounced on me, kicking and punching me. They took my phones and backpack, removed my shoes and wristwatch, and took off my clothes. I was completely stripped and naked. The tallest among them brought out a very thick military belt and began whipping me with it. They upended the content of my bag and were going through my stuff, all the while, swearing at me and calling me names.

They continued physically assaulting me. I was injured on my forehead, my arms, my thighs, my neck. The force with which one of them used to whip me dislocated my left wrist because I had used the hand to protect my face. I was in pain. And still they wouldn’t stop.

However, they soon got tired of beating me. and then they settled down, and one of them produced a knife and placed it in my front. They threatened to castrate me. I had never been so scared in my entire life, so scared that I couldn’t even speak. They began talking in Igbo, which I understood; that tall one still wanted to keep going at me, but the others told him to cool off, which he reluctantly did. They left me in the room to stew in my blood and pain, while they smoked weed outside.

After a while, they came back in and began talking to me. Saying stuff like, “Why are you gay when there are many girls out there…” “Fine boy like you, you wan spoil yourself with gay. It’s not good…”

Then they were, like, that it was because I am fine, that was why they stopped beating me. They didn’t want to spoil my fine face. Then they began “advising me”, telling me to stop being gay, bla, bla, bla. They even told me of how they got a white man to come all the way from Abuja, and they beat him until he passed out. How they got a young chap to come all the way from Abia State. They were bragging and their stories were just horrible.

They revealed to me that they’d had me on their radar for months now. That they targeted me. They used two different accounts to try to engage me, but I blocked the first one because they didn’t play their game well and I’d apparently sensed they weren’t legit. So, they upped their game and now, finally, they had nabbed me.

In addition to my pain, at this point, I began to feel so very stupid.

They brought out my wallet and asked me for my ATM card pins. I refused and received more lashing for my defiance. It bears mentioning that throughout this ordeal, I never once saw the guy I’d been chatting with. He wasn’t there at all.

I prayed for death. I wanted to just die. It was now evening, around 5 or 6 PM. They really wanted my ATM pin. I had money in all my accounts. School fees, accommodation money, and my personal cash. They said I would either give them the pin or they would kill me with the knife. To drive home their point, one of them actually put the knife to my throat. Now properly scared, I gave them the pin. And they wiped me out completely.

When those who went to the ATM returned, I could see that they were happy. Why wouldn’t they be? It was at this point that they realised I had not eaten since morning. They were feeling generous now. They got me noodles and a bottle of coke, which was dosed with codeine. I refused to eat, and they made a joke about it, one of them taking a spoonful from the food to show me it wasn’t poisoned. Still I couldn’t bring myself to eat. They had to literally forced the food down my throat. They told me to try and get some sleep because I wouldn’t be leaving till the next day. They gave me back my clothes and shoes. Told me to lie down on the bed, in the middle, while they all laid down around me. The mosquito population in that room was the least of my worries that night, as I was afraid that they would try to kill me in my sleep. I just laid there, barely sleeping, quietly praying for morning to come.

I must have eventually slept off, because all of a sudden, somebody was shaking me awake into the morning. I derived a bit of happiness from the fact that I was going home. But they didn’t let me go immediately. They took me out of the compound and into a jungle – an actual jungle.

As I was led through this jungle, I was saying to myself: This is it. I thought about my mom back in Kaduna, my uncle, my siblings. My entire life was flashing before my eyes.

However, it turned out the jungle was their meeting point with a drug dealer. They bought some weed and began to smoke. They offered me a stick, but I declined, saying I’d never done drugs.

I just wanted to go home.

Around 3 PM, on Thursday, they took me to the side of the road and gave me 3 thousand naira. That I should find my way back to Jos. They gave me my bag, but they took everything else – my phones, power bank, belt, wristwatch and wallet. They said they’d be watching me, that they had a network around most states.

Eventually, I got home. Lex had been so worried, because my phone had been off for more than a day. I couldn’t tell him what happened; I just told him I got mugged on my way back. That I’d been beaten (evidently) and was in so much pain, I couldn’t come home the previous day. That I’d had to stay over at my friend’s place. He wanted to tell my uncle but I stopped him.

This is the first time I am telling this story, saying out loud the events of that traumatic couple of days. It’s been over three years, and I still have nightmares. This ordeal made me withdraw into myself. I stopped going anywhere or meeting anyone for a long while. And I haven’t had a real date since that horrific day. I get tired of the way it is still haunting me and I just want to be free of this nightmare.

Written by Ramsey

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36 Comments

  1. Peace
    January 31, 09:41 Reply

    Wow! Ramsey! I really feel your pain. You didn’t deserve what happened to you one bit. It’s really crazy and scary what happens to members of our community. I think you should see a therapist too. Pele! I’m just short of words walahi!

  2. Avgk
    January 31, 10:46 Reply

    Wow. Really sorry about this Ramsey. I agree that perhaps you need to speak to a therapist probably one that’s queer and may be able to sympathize. I can’t imagine that it’s been easy especially when you see the scars, if any still remain.

    Do you still have his number? His Facebook page? Even his manjam handle. Would help to prevent the next person from falling for his trap.

  3. Mandy
    January 31, 10:57 Reply

    This kito business is starting to look like the specialty of Igbo and Yoruba guys.

    • Audrey
      January 31, 11:15 Reply

      That’s was a very unfair thing to say to the Tribes mentioned.These ones abound in every tribe.We all should just stay Woke

    • Titi
      January 31, 13:52 Reply

      Is mostly common with Igbos oh not even Yorubas am a victim too and when l spoke igbo fluently they had to forgive. Igbos tufiakwa

      • Pink Panther
        January 31, 13:55 Reply

        What do you mean they had to “forgive”? They let you go? Your kitoers let you go? Simply because you spoke Igbo fluently to them?

      • David_jay
        January 31, 17:42 Reply

        Forgive kwa, those kitos are pure evil, I can vividly remember my first Kito experience, the Main guy was igbo, and that day ehnn, me that I can’t speak igbo fluently, the language was flowing like tap water from my mouth, still to no avail.
        Let’s not bring language or tribe into this, once they have gotten you there’s no way out!!

  4. Chomzzy
    January 31, 11:16 Reply

    Very sorry you had to experience this. One similarity I’ve noticed in every Kito story I’ve read here is that they always send “their boy” to come pick someone up.

    • Pink Panther
      January 31, 11:41 Reply

      Especially in the case where there hasn’t been a video chat, and all the queer guy has to identify them with are the photographs they’ve sent him. Pics that are most certainly of someone unaware his pics are being used for such nefarious purposes. So of course they can’t show up as the Brian you’ve been chatting with, because that Brian in the pics is not among them. So the “Brian” will instead send his boy because he’s too busy.

      • Chomzzy
        January 31, 15:54 Reply

        You’re right. It makes sense now. I really wish everyone be more careful and skeptical and be safe 😥

  5. Bussy
    January 31, 11:19 Reply

    oh my God,alhamdullilah you got through that phase
    this hookup of a thing is getting scary nowadays, sometime I cant help but thank God for his protection over me weneva I just leave home to meet someone beyond social media.
    Stay strong Ramsey .

  6. Usfirm
    January 31, 13:55 Reply

    This is really pathetic. Homophobia is rife in NIGERIA. I am interested in your story. I can do a follow-up call with you if you don’t mind.

  7. mike
    January 31, 14:32 Reply

    Mehn I can relate, same shit happened to moi, only mine was in boarding house, that experience ruined my social life and affected the my relationship with guys, especially straight guys, that experience was what influenced me to seekout my own kind, sortof.
    We are lucky ones I guess, cause last year in Niger state, lapia precisely a gay guy was based, setup and in the processing of beating him up, he died, by the time the time the case got to the police, it was changed to robbery case stating the guy stole from one of them, and they decided to beat him up, as dictated by the student culture, in process he died. The school authorities also joined hands in covering up what really happened .

    Point is yhu are lucky, give it time cause time heals everything.

    • Kayeze
      February 02, 09:51 Reply

      Do u stay in Abuja …. That term we are the lucky ones …looks so familiar…..

  8. Eddie
    January 31, 15:52 Reply

    The bastards!!!!!!
    I hope they die slow,painful, terrifying, gut-wrenching deaths…
    That a person can do this to another human being just hurts…
    Where’s the gay Mafia at abeg?! I wanna sign up…let’s unleash hell on these kito fucks!

    • that dark-fair guy
      February 02, 10:50 Reply

      No no NO!
      Your kind of shrink that made those comments on Delle’s story “King of boys” should not be encouraged on this platform. Sensei(KD’s former resident shrink) could never have made those comments you made. Don’t come and ‘shrink’ someone’s child into oblivion.

  9. Onyedika
    January 31, 18:37 Reply

    This is so pathetic, your encounter. So inhuman. I still do not understand why it’s a crime to be gay in Nigeria. Really.

    So glad you didn’t lose your life. Las las, we’ll be fine. Thanks for sharing.

  10. Q
    January 31, 18:54 Reply

    I have often read a lot of stories here especially the kito stories and until last year when I experienced Kito did I finally see how scarred it can make someone. Till today I have been unable to share my story, am filled with doubts, fear and sometimes I blame myself, other times I live in denial; thinking maybe it never happened . To those who share their stories here or anywhere I must confess it’s real bravery *sobs*

    • Dave_Jay
      January 31, 20:22 Reply

      I totally understand how you feel, I have been there before, honestly I think I have gotten over my Kito experience and moved on, sometimes when the incident pops up in my head, it’s just there, i don’t really feel anything. That doesn’t mean I have forgiven them, that’s something I don’t think I’ll be able to do.
      Maybe because mine wasn’t that bad, and I was just lucky my Dad didn’t pick up the call when they tried to call him with my phone.
      The only effect it has on me is, I’m scared of meeting new people and I’m now overly cautious.
      Trust me,unless if your experience was awful, like very awful, you are going to get over it and be brave enough to share it.

    • Toba
      February 11, 17:42 Reply

      My love, we’re in this together! One year, 5 months and still counting, I’ve not been able to open my mouth to share my story. It hurts to bone marrow and the more I try to pretend it never happened, the more hurtful it gets. We’ll all be fine.

  11. Bells
    January 31, 19:30 Reply

    Stories like make me grimace in pain and anger. God help us. So sorry dear , sharing is therapeutic.

  12. Abraham
    January 31, 19:54 Reply

    So sorry about what happened to you @Ramsey. Thanks for sharing.

  13. Mike
    February 01, 00:13 Reply

    Mehn I can relate, same shit happened to moi, only mine was in boarding house, that experience ruined my social life and affected the my relationship with guys, especially straight guys, that experience was what influenced me to seekout my own kind, sortof.
    We are lucky ones I guess, cause last year in Niger state, lapia precisely a gay guy was based, setup and in the processing of beating him up, he died, by the time the time the case got to the police, it was changed to robbery case stating the guy stole from one of them, and they decided to beat him up, as dictated by the student culture, in process he died. The school authorities also joined hands in covering up what really happened .

    Point is yhu are lucky, give it time cause time heals everything.

  14. kristo
    February 01, 03:05 Reply

    Dec 7 2013,
    the kito experience robbed me of my hard earned black berry curve phone …I was beaten (to be fair a little) and made to “trek” home thank God for his mercies of using a soldier as my good Samaritan…..

    all this occurred in THE INFAMOUS ABULE ADO

  15. Posh666
    February 01, 10:12 Reply

    Sorry for your terrible experience.. I believe I have an idea of the group of guys that did this to you because some people I know have fallen victims too and the guys are well known in kano. Can you remember the name of the area? Was it naibawa Ungwa Uku? Was it very close to a first bank and also federal govt college kano???

  16. Rex
    February 01, 16:52 Reply

    This is heartbreaking

  17. Sworld
    February 01, 18:58 Reply

    sighs
    terrible.
    just like a friend warmed me a time ago I was on the radar here in Abuja. i became so scared n i locked up myself turning everyone down. but I am glad I’m in a relationship now n I am happy although i can’t really understand what is going on now but I will just give it time to grow n work, its my commitment!.

  18. Ezeh
    February 02, 07:49 Reply

    How come nobody is talking about tracking these people through the picture taken by thr ATM?
    How come nobody is telling him to report to a lawyer or Police?
    I believe they can be caught through laying a proper seige or a trap.
    Hey Ramsey,they are one chance armedrobbers that attacked you,they swiped your life savings and you want them arrested,your bank would release the footage of that idiot that went to withdraw your money and from there a manhunt shall begin.
    This is my first time commenting and I feel so pained reading this mehn!
    My own experience was in Final year,I was quite bouyant but something told me to leave all my phones behind,they only got my expensive belt.
    They snapped me and said they would post my picture round social media if I didn’t bring money the next day,I was waiting for them to post my pictures so I would use my police influence and arrest all of them as cult members who robbed me at gun point,till date they didn’t post anything.
    These happened in Friendship Hotel Aladinma,Imsu back gate and funny enough 2 out of the idiots are actually TB and the cousin to their gang leader I later found out is also TB,maybe they weren’t even cousins,might just be TB mates that claims cousins.
    Any Kitoer shall die a painful death!

    • Toba
      February 11, 17:50 Reply

      A big ‘Amen’ to your prayers! Dearest Ezeh, I’m deeply sorry for what happened to you. You’ll be fine.

  19. Zarael
    February 03, 15:51 Reply

    I feel ya pain and the pain of any other person that has been kitoes…my experience happened in that same kano 2 years ago..And same with someone i know…biko..lets all be careful sha..me dis days i kuku don wantu die..so hookup sef e yaff live my mind…Ramsey..it will take time tho but u will heal..just give yourself the chance to heal

  20. icandy
    February 03, 18:46 Reply

    Sorry about that dear. But u should have include his phone number and name of the area.

  21. Daniel
    February 04, 20:51 Reply

    Awwwwww. This is so bad I’m sorry dear

  22. O.L.A.
    February 05, 06:43 Reply

    I think people who have been able to write down their kito stories are very brave. I can’t even bring myself to think about the day I had the experience, not to talk of writing about it.

    It’s very sad that some of us had to go through these painful ordeals. I pray we all heal completely from them.

    • Toba
      February 11, 17:47 Reply

      Amen to that! There would come a time when we’d think about it and just smile. We thank God for the strength given and the lesson learned. We’ll keep going strong!

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