THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY

THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY

I met him in November 2010, two months after I got into the country for further studies. His name (for the purpose of this narration) is Chuks. My friend from Nigeria gave him my Facebook contact and we began getting acquainted via an online chat. Later the same day, we exchanged phone numbers and he called. We conversed. It was effortless, and remained so every time we talked over the next few days. Soon he wanted me over at his place, and gave me directions on how to locate his place. It was about 8 train stops and an hour-and-thirty-minute ride away, so I went on a Saturday afternoon when I was less busy. I buzzed him when I was downstairs before his apartment, notifying him of my arrival. A few moments later, he came down to receive me. Physically, he wasn’t really my type. He was a bit on the fair side, had a body that was neither well-toned nor muscular, and was a few inches shorter than me. Plus he was about five years older than me, and looked it. So in my mind, I was like: Okay, let’s get this over with ASAP so I can head back.

He took me upstairs. I observed that he stayed on his own in a three-bedroom apartment, something I thought odd for a Nigerian over there. Most Nigerians I’d met shared tenancy of their apartments. His place was okay, nothing special or lush. When we had sex, I noticed he took the D with some amount of pain. He told me later on that I was the first guy to penetrate him; he’d always played the role of the Top. But during our getting-to-know-each-other, I’d made it clear to him that I don’t take dicks up my ass. He’d said it was fine. I ended up leaving the following morning, and I didn’t really see myself meeting him again. Aside from the fact that he wasn’t physically my type, he was also a below-average kisser. I have a thing for good kissers. A good kiss can get me any day anytime.

But then Chuks wouldn’t let me be. He was persistent with his affections, and I couldn’t help my reciprocation. The rate of our meetings increased and we started having proper dates, you know, doing other things together besides having sex. During this period, I grew to like him so much that when he asked for us to venture into a relationship, I agreed. During this proposal, he emphasized how this meant that I’d have to stop seeing the other guys I was seeing then. I thought nothing about making that commitment; he absolutely cared about me and wasn’t shy in making it evident. I began to visit him more often, oftentimes staying over for days at a time. I cherished the allowance and privacy his sole occupancy gave me to just be myself. Back at my own place, I had two Nigerian flat-mates who were straight, so I couldn’t even talk comfortably and without some inhibition on the phone when I’m at home.

We’d been dating about three months when the cracks started appearing. He was quick to anger, and whenever this happened or we had an argument, he tended to shout, as though to shut me up with the sheer volume of his voice. He began to have a problem with me being on the phone. He’d want to know who I was talking to or chatting with.

The first day he showed that he had a violent streak in him was when I went out with two other Igbo guys to the mall. These guys were heterosexual and lived in the same estate as Chuks and I. (Yes, Chuks and I were practically live-in lovers at this time). I’d become friends with them. On that day, they rented a car and asked me to join them to the city centre to buy some clothing. We went to the mall and spent about four hours shopping. They shopped; I was just along for the ride. They bought some stuff for me too, a take-home package of chocolates, biscuits and some groceries.

It was 7pm when they dropped me off at home. Chuks was beside himself with rage when I got in. He screamed at me for being away so long and returning so late. I tried to get my explanation in edgewise, but he wasn’t taking it. In spite of being aware that the guys are straight, in his anger, he accused me of carrying on a threesome with them. At this point, he had gotten so mad that he snatched up the packages I came home and threw them out the back balcony. I was too stupefied by his overreaction to even react to what was going on. Later that night, he calmed enough to apologize and promised to replace the exact items he destroyed.

Thereafter came the day we had an argument over an online acquaintance I was chatting with. It was a harmless acquaintanceship. He had a problem with it, and as our fight escalated, he lashed out with his right hand, landing a slap across my face. I was stunned by the blow, not from the pain but because it had happened at all. He was instantly contrite; he dropped to his knees and began profusely begging me not to leave him, promising that what just happened wouldn’t happen again.

Chuks was also skilled at manipulating my emotions. There were times he’d say alarming things like how he would kill himself if I ever left him. He was also generous, very generous. One time, he got me shoes twice in a month, the shoe whore that I am. Whenever we dined out, which was often, it was always in nice restaurants. He ensured I had enough upkeep money, and access to his car and bank accounts. Materially, I was all good. But I constantly began to feel like I was in bondage mentally and emotionally.

Like I earlier said, we were practically living together. I was at his place 70 percent of the time. I went for my classes and carried on with life from his place. I however still maintained my tenancy in my own apartment. In 2011, I met a young Nigerian named David in the train. We established our similar nationality, and began talking, clicking so well amidst the other travelers in the train. When he let slip that his eighteenth birthday was the next day, I offered to take him out. He happily agreed.

The next day brought about a great outing. We went to the city center, took loads of selfies, had our fill of food at Pizza Hut, MacD and Nandos. We rapidly developed a friendship after that day, and when he had accommodation problems, I gladly permitted him to move into my place. I hardly stayed there anyway, so David basically replaced me there. David was heterosexual, stubborn and a brat; but he has a sweet demeanour that made him irresistible as a person. After he moved into my place, I enjoyed his friendship so much, I began to visit my apartment more often.

Admittedly, I was initially attracted to him. He was incredibly cute with cakes for Africa and Asia combined. I even confessed my attraction to him and he let me down gently. He told me he wasn’t sexually attracted to me and that all he thought of me was as a big brother. I respected his choice and this didn’t change my care for or attention toward him.

Chuks didn’t appreciate this new friendship of mine. He constantly pestered me with accusations of David and I having sex. He didn’t believe that I would welcome a relatively new friend into my apartment, rent free, unless I was shagging him. My explanations fell on deaf ears. He asked to meet David. I supposed he wanted to see for himself that David was indeed straight.

David came to our place for dinner, and all night long, Chuks played the consummate seducer to the hilt. He teased, smiled, touched, flirted – did everything to test David’s sexuality. But the boy was straighter than an arrow. When the night was over, he believed me. But that didn’t stop him getting surly-tempered or acting up whenever he perceived David as an inconvenience.

At this point, after nearly a year of being together, the cracks that scissored our relationship had begun to graduate. At every turn, Chuks saw me cheating. He’d accuse me and a fight would ensue. During one of these fights, he broke the promise he made once upon a time; he slapped me. We were in the kitchen, and when I lifted my hand to hit back, he evaded me, snatched up a frying pan and smashed it against my head. During another fight, he smashed a tumbler against the wall, while he raged about how he would kill me and then kill himself if I ever betrayed him.

Of course, our fights would always end with him getting apologetic, profusely so, with tears and on his knees sometimes, during which he’d promise never to get so vile again. And I’d forgive him, because I’d actually grown to love him. I wouldn’t entertain the thought of leaving him, not even when David urged me to.

He was obsessed. And I was trapped.

But then, a final threat to my life unshackled me from whatever had me beholden to him. We were having yet another fight, another tired argument over David. In the heat of the moment, he lashed out at me, slapping me across my cheek. This time however, I was quick on the uptake. I slapped him just as furiously back, following that up with a punch, and another one. He shoved me back and darted out of the apartment. This apartment was new, we’d just moved into it, and some floors were still undergoing some finishing touches. So, when Chuks returned, he had a brick in his hand. His eyes were crazed as he pranced toward me and slammed the brick on my head. Blood sprouted, I don’t know from where. But I suddenly lost my equilibrium, staggered about as my blood blurred my vision and dripped down my head.

A moment later, a moment during which Chuks realized what he’d done, he screamed. Immediately, he hustled me out into the car and rushed me to a hospital. The reason he gave to the hospital personnel for my bleeding head was that I’d slipped and fallen in the bathroom. I was soon stabilized and given eleven stitches. (The scar is still there on my head, a stark reminder, a ghoulish memento).

When we got back home from the hospital that night, just as he started with his ritual of begging and sobbing for my forgiveness, I very coldly told him that should he ever raise his hand on me again, I would stab him to death and face the consequences. As I uttered the threat, I meant every word. And the deadly seriousness in my countenance must have telegraphed itself to him, because from that moment till we ended our relationship, he never once got that out of control.

Following the brick incident, our relationship began crumbling faster than a sand castle struck by the wind. I stopped loving him and he stopped trying so hard.

And the end, when it came, was inevitable.

Written by KingBey

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55 Comments

  1. chuck
    April 24, 06:04 Reply

    Wow. Beware the ones that give material gifts.

  2. Morgana
    April 24, 06:16 Reply

    Speechless. You passed through these? Love can be a bitch atimes, making you swallow rubbish and smiling at it. I am indeed speechless. You’re strong, I admire that. And thank God who gave you the sense to end the relationship. Thank God!

  3. JayTer 2.1
    April 24, 06:32 Reply

    And you asked David out when you both met… I just think that your boyfriend didn’t trust you cos of legitmate reasons he had! Anyway, it was an awful experience to have, for you both!

  4. simba
    April 24, 07:02 Reply

    Wow.. I’d once fought with a bf, he gave his phone to do something,and some chats came in,which paralyzed me lol.. in the midst of the argument he held my shirt,that’s when I slapped him. I apologized but I knew the relationship was already dead…

  5. CriXXus
    April 24, 07:12 Reply

    Trust and commitment…………….very key in all relationships. But sadly, when you fall for an obssessed psychological inbalanced being with a lil streak of schrezophenia, I guess it doesnt really come to the picture for them or count anymore.

    Reading this gave me goosebumps, was scary and the thought that a KingBey went through and wrote a story like this is equally more scary.

    Kingbey? Who would have thought.

    • DI-NAVY
      April 24, 09:33 Reply

      Kingbey is human. That’s why… lol

      • CriXXus
        April 24, 12:50 Reply

        Lol!
        I was actually expecting to see a “Written by Francis” at the end of the write up. Definitely would be a good/valid excuse for being baeless, super fear-fear and in love with his “toys”.
        Once bitten they say…………….. Flee and avoid!

  6. Marc Francis of Chelsea
    April 24, 07:28 Reply

    If I was ever in a situation like this, I would leave after the first hit. No time to test the waters to see if he will change. If you break something on my face or worse, pour acid on me one day, what will I say happened? First hit should always be the last hit!

    • Kenny
      April 24, 08:05 Reply

      I will not even wait for the first hit. There are signs that’ll show that a man is a ‘hitter’ and it was even evident in Kingbey’s relationship early enough.

  7. Kenny
    April 24, 08:08 Reply

    Chuks is clearly a jealous and insecure person and he has serious issues. I mean who says I’ll kill myself if you leave me? Kingbey you tried o. I still can’t wrap my head around people that stay in abusive relationships.

  8. Mandy
    April 24, 08:10 Reply

    This Chuks is a skilled abuser. Both physical and emotionally. Wow. Very dangerous kind of person to date.

  9. Chizzie
    April 24, 08:34 Reply

    Sounds like a raging psychopath. But I’d like to read his side of the story, cause if there’s something I’ve learned recently is that people (Tops) for the most part always try to paint themselves as the victim and thier ex as the nutcase..

    Plus if this is the same KingBey that penned a whole journal describing acts of promiscuity, then I’m sure there’s more to this story.

    Biko PP reach out to Chuks, I want his side of this story.

    These tops cannot keep playing the victim all the time ????

    • DI-NAVY
      April 24, 09:00 Reply

      Honey, just because he penned down his journal on promiscuity doesn’t mean he’s that way. You clearly judged him from the stories he wrote? it obvious you don’t really know kingbey and you don’t even know half his story. You think someone will have the guts to pen down his abusive story just to be thrown a pity party? Any one could be abused, be you top or buttom. You only know the kingbey of KD because he wanted you to know that part of him, may be you should calm down the more to know the real him. Happy sunday.

    • KingBey
      April 24, 11:02 Reply

      Chizzie just pray you don’t find yourself in an abusive relationship. Be you Top or Bottom won’t even matter. Especially when the person is older. My BF had an abusive relationship. He was basically the Bottom. And he has numerous scars to show for it. And you trying to judge me from a few episodes of my sexual escapades that I penned down. Really? Lol.

    • Pink Panther
      April 24, 12:06 Reply

      LOL! I think Bottoms play the victim to an art as well, Chizzie. Besides, his Kiss journals does not make KingBey incapable of being in a relationship.

    • Pink Panther
      April 24, 12:07 Reply

      But anyway, Chuks, if you’re reading and you have a say on the issue, you know where to find me. 😀

  10. Khaleesi
    April 24, 08:38 Reply

    Chuks is obviously mentally unbalanced, seriously. Such people are dangerous lovers! I didn’t know its possible to end up loving someone who wasn’t your type initially … What a weird swing. #JustCurious, did this happen in the UK?
    I can’t imagine a man am dating raising his hands against me, it’s bad enough when u raise ur voice cos if u ever raise a hand on me, you’ll regret it for a very long time to come! Nice piece tho!

  11. Griffin
    April 24, 09:40 Reply

    Hmmmmm, Nando’s, could all these have taken place in India?…….Lord knows I’m bored outta my mind in this country. Abeg who knows any fun Nigerian in New Delhi, I home sick and could use a friend.

    • Pink Panther
      April 24, 12:08 Reply

      Awwww. C’mere, Griffin. A KDian in diaspora needs help and company, people.

    • posh6666
      April 24, 14:09 Reply

      Lol all this people that go to india self you dont research their social gay scene before going? I have a friend who went there to study and he actually went into depression cos of boredom and lack of sex.

      If you are someone like me who loves sex and cant go without it india isnt the place for you to be …Tho new delhi is like the abuja/lagos of india so just join some social media apps and find some cool places through google .The issue is a lot of blacks including myself arent sexually attracted to indians

      • Mandy
        April 24, 15:50 Reply

        It’s the Indians of Bollywood that I fancy. The ones we see in real life… Tsk tsk.

        • Delle
          April 24, 19:30 Reply

          Lol Mandy, so true. It’s like there are two sects of Indians…

  12. J0j0
    April 24, 09:52 Reply

    For reals? Things like this happen? … who died and you took over? … we don’t pray for things like this but if it should come my way… love gbakwa oku!

    khalessi of course you can develop something for someone you don’t like earlier…

  13. Delle
    April 24, 09:55 Reply

    Hmm…I don’t know how you guys keep staying in a relationship after being struck the first time. I mean, leave! I can’t let it get to that stage where we have to exchange blows. It was clear Chuks was a nutcase from the onset.

    Rather than be in a violent relationship, I’d be baeless forever. Eleven stitches for persevering love? Not worth it. The first time he hit you, you’d have packed your things and left. Love shouldn’t accommodate violence. Beautiful entry anyway.

  14. Lorde
    April 24, 14:15 Reply

    “You’re the first person penetrating me” we’ve all heard that before lol, personally, I think every gay guy started out as a bottom, (cos there’s curiosity when your aware of your sexuality) anyways sorry this happened to you, just goes to show that abuse happens in straight relationships as well, a(even more, when a bottom abuses a top). Also now is the time I wished we sent our relatives to do that thing they do during a marriage when they go check out the spouses family for any history of psychiatric issues, cos bitches be crazy out there, just cos we look fab don’t mean we got our faculties intact.

  15. posh6666
    April 24, 14:32 Reply

    I really do pray I never ever experience such a violent love that I will even be too weak and emotionally confused to leave a violent person…Me that you can only get a strike one with.Once I notice you have a violent streak in you to hit a person then thats all.We can never be friends again not to talk of being lovers.

    In my mind I see such a person as my potential killer who doesnt even value a human life and will one day eventually succeed in either killing me or if he doesnt, I end up killing him in the middle of defending myself and nobody deserves risking my freedom/life for cos i believe life is good and I have been through so much,for some sicko to come and cut it short …

  16. posh6666
    April 24, 14:46 Reply

    Btw so Queen Bey’s Lemonade is finally out whats ur favourite track????You can stream on tidal

  17. Queen Blue Fox
    April 24, 14:51 Reply

    I have said it over and over again, the day my bf will hit me will be the day i will end him

  18. Keredim
    April 24, 15:39 Reply

    ‘He was incredibly cute with cakes for Africa and Asia combined.’

    Ermmm biko Kingbey, not taking away from your near fatal story , but which part of Asia do they have cakes as a rule, like we do in Africa?!?

    • Mandy
      April 24, 15:48 Reply

      Hahahahahaa. The Asia part gave the Africa part an extra bounce, I’m guessing.

      • Keredim
        April 24, 16:38 Reply

        On the contrary Mandy, it dilutes our naturally given standard issue bubble butt.

        “Asia” and “cakes” should not be in the same sentence, unless “no” is betweem them.

          • Keredim
            April 24, 20:32 Reply

            Even you couldn’t say that with a straight face??

            As an exception not a rule!!??

  19. thatinyvoice
    April 24, 16:15 Reply

    There’s something kinky about getting hit by another guy tho’. It turns me on! If i’m with you and you don’t hit me or punch me, I will just get bored!

    • bruno
      April 24, 16:55 Reply

      don’t worry. you’ll find someone to hit you soon enough

    • posh6666
      April 24, 16:56 Reply

      *damaged goods right here* You will be fine eventually……thats if you dont end up being killed by one of the men who hits you.

    • Delle
      April 24, 19:31 Reply

      Huh? Aren’t you just creepy?

  20. Truth
    April 24, 16:52 Reply

    Kingbey and DI NAVY #baesim, how cute.

    • Tiercel de Claron
      April 24, 17:33 Reply

      So you finally decided to join us today.
      No need for the new pseudonym tho

  21. Davitch
    April 24, 20:19 Reply

    i’m waiting for the guy that will hit me……such a person will testify, that’s if he recovers

  22. Terra
    April 25, 09:57 Reply

    Kingbey, it sucks that you got abused. But my takeaway is, he fell in love with someone that’s not his “type”. The love turned sour here but it sha happened. Gays, stop? clinging? so? hard ?to? your? “types”???

  23. daleen
    April 25, 17:41 Reply

    its so easy to sit and judge the dude for taking all those beatings all the while. well, me no blame am sha. he loved Chuks genuinely. violence in a relationship; any relationship is not good. you need some level of trust. in fact in Nigeria i dare say you need to just decide in your heart to trust the guy ni because if you keep fuzzing about he he is with or where he is at every moment, nah you go kee ursef oh. i have not been in a violent relationship and do not hope to be at all. in that spate of anger if he had killed you nko? who would he have been apologizing to?

  24. Wayfaring Stranger
    April 25, 18:06 Reply

    Sad stuff. Never really had much regard for you since I started reading your ‘Diary of a Male Whore’ series many months ago.

    But just the other day, I stumbled into some article you posted in the early days of this site, about how you met some guy online, fell in love and cried as you drove away from the airport.

    Now, today I’m reading this, and you’re starting to seem larger than life, and I’m deeply touched by these things you’ve faced. Do stay strong, Kingbey.

    • DI-NAVY
      April 26, 06:23 Reply

      awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. That’s really the Kingbey nobody knows. I thank you on his behalf .d

  25. Geeluv
    April 26, 09:03 Reply

    Osalobua!!! You wan die for love?

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