I belong in an art club; we learn to paint, we hold exhibitions and generally do artsy stuff. There are some dangerously cute men in the club and there are some women too, but more guys mostly. I know that a lot of guys in the art scene may have a question mark or two, but I generally mind my business, seeing as I hold a leadership position in the club.

Anyway, we had this (impossibly cute) guy who found us on twitter and joined the club. He lives in Aba, and it was always an issue for him to come to meetings, seeing as they often stretch into the night. So being the very nice person that I am, I offered to have him crash at my pad after meetings and head back to Aba on Sunday morning (Judge Nut). I knew I was setting myself up for trouble, but you know those times when your whore-mones override your brain and every bone of wisdom in your body? So I began to have him over, and eventually it began to stretch to the entire weekend, which was great.

And then came the evening when we went out and got wasted. We got back to my house by 2am, and on an impulse, I kissed him. He kissed me right back. We proceeded to have a great make-out session, but we did not go the whole hog, mostly because he did not allow me take off his pants.

A few days later, we discussed it via whatsapp and he said he hadn’t been with a guy before, but that he liked me and was willing to try again, but at his pace. I agreed.

What is the point of this story abi? Hold on a bit.

So one girl who is also in the art club called me up, and we were chatting. Suddenly she was like: “How far with that Aba guy in the art club?” I told her he was fine, while trying to gauge where the conversation was headed. I am a gay man, so I often know the wiles of women and I know that girls just don’t “want to find out how a guy is doing”. When they ask these kinds of questions, they most likely have a motive. Eventually she owned up and said she liked the guy, and asked if I could subtly hook them up. I told her he would not like her. She asked how I knew this, and I told her that I knew him very well, that he likes tall skinny girls who don’t eat (she is short and a little stocky). Eventually she was like, “No problem, forget I said anything. Don’t mention it to him.”

See man that I am plotting how I will bae, and this babe wants to pour sand-sand in my corn flakes?



One of my good, straight friends and I were having a conversation recently, and somehow the conversation went to gay marriage and the American landmark judgment. He had always said he doesn’t hate gay people, but that he doesn’t support gay marriage. I always find this stance contradictory. And I have always explained to him that loads of gays will probably never get married anyway, but the state should not take away that choice. If I want to do it, I should be able to do it. He knows I’m gay and has always acted like he does not have an issue with it. I did not just out and tell him. He was at my last birthday party, and after the party, he asked why besides my female colleagues, there were no girls at the party. I replied that it was a boys’ night out. He replied that nobody had boys’ night out on their birthdays, and then asked directly if I was gay, to which I answered in the affirmative. And he said that as long as I remained a good person that I am, that he really wouldn’t care.

On this day however, I got to see a different side of him which I’d been oblivious to. It appeared that deep down, this guy did not actually support the rights of gays and maybe he just accepted me because he was my friend. Deep down, this guy may actually expect me to change.

I took a deep breath and asked him a question, “Do you think that people are born gay?”

He asked why I was asking that question, and I told him that this philosophy is the definitive factor for homophobia. Homophobes believe that gay people just choose the lifestyle, and so they hate them for it. But if you believe that people are born gay and have no control over their sexual leanings, then you will not judge them, because it would be like judging short people or albinos.

So I asked him again, “Do you think people are born gay?” I told him I didn’t want a contextual answer. I just wanted a yes or a no.

After a quick moment, he said, “I do not believe people are born gay. I think homosexuality is a habit they pick up which stayed for too long. And I think that with a concerted effort, it can be dropped. I am sorry if this hurts your feelings, but I have to tell you the truth. The bible is my standard.”

My beer tasted like bile at that point, and I stood up feeling totally crushed. I told him that there no use both of us being friends anymore, since he believed that I need fixing and that I am headed to hell as I am. I told him to have a nice life, got up and left the place where we were. Before I got to the car park, I remembered his wedding was coming up.

So I came back and said to him, “Since you also don’t believe that I deserve to be married and find happiness the same way you have found happiness with your fiancé, you might want to shop around for another grooms man of my body structure, who that blue suit will fit perfectly, because I will not be attending your wedding.”

I have absolutely no regrets over breaking up the friendship. Anyone can stew in his homophobia. I just won’t let all that be a part of my life anymore.


I hate being objectified; not that I think of myself as a hunk or someone extremely good looking. I just thoroughly detest being objectified. I realize that men are very visual creatures and are maybe moved more by what they see. But sex cannot be everything that there is to a person. I have BBM contacts that whenever they buzz you, they find a way to make the conversation be about sex, and that is the fastest way to kill a conversation between me and you.

I met up with a KDian recently who had been emailing me for a while. When he said he was in Port Harcourt for a while, I figured I could grab a drink with him. We met on a Friday night in a bar, and I really liked what I saw physically; he was tall, waiflike with a very tiny waist, and had that air that expensive education provides.

We got down to having beers, and I was trying to get into his head and get a feel of his persona. But the dude had other plans that maybe involved a bed first and drinks after. I was trying to keep the conversation about books he had read and movies he had seen so as to find a common thread to gist about, but he would always find a way to sexualize the conversation to the point where I became uncomfortable. He kept referring to certain body parts of mine which were allegedly extra large, and I was wondering who I had to thank for that, seeing as I had never mentioned that in my journal here.

At a point, I got really irritated, and I made an excuse about taking the dogs to the vet (at 8pm? Yea right) and stood up. And he was like, “Wait, aren’t you coming to my hotel with me?” I was like, “No thanks.” And he said, “Come on, what will I do to make you follow me?” That was when I got very angry, seeing as I had just been spoken to like I was a rent boy. I turned and left.

I don’t mean to come across as snotty or arrogant, but I am not a rent boy. I mean, I am not even a boy (I am fast approaching 30), so I don’t get people offering me money for sex on twitter or email.  I am not going to mention this acquaintance’s pseudonym of course. But what he did isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with such a situation. It still doesn’t stop me from being baffled that some people believe I will have sex with them just for money. Oh well, they don’t know me well enough, so I forgive them.

Do not take this bit the wrong way. This is something I feel strongly about. And so, I decided to talk about it today.

Have a great week, guys.


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