I remember some time several months ago, during an idle conversation with Pink Panther, when he shared that one of the reasons he hadn’t wanted to embark on the operation of an LGBT blog was that he didn’t know any platform he could use to publicize the presence of Kito Diaries to those concerned. He was closeted, so of course he couldn’t use any of his social media accounts to share links to updates on the blog. When I asked him how he was able to fix the issue of publicity after the blog became operational, he replied, “I didn’t have to. It took care of itself.”

And that didn’t surprise me. Kito Diaries came at a time when we most needed it – a platform to express ourselves in a period when we were required to stay silent.

The knowledge of the understated yet vast outreach of Kito Diaries was reinforced in my mind recently. It was a Monday, and as it was with me on Mondays, I was at the bank to do some bank runs. I had my ear phones plugged into my ears, which connected me to the blasting tunes of Tecno’s ‘Pana’. I was reading a story on KD on my phone, while I stood waiting for the electromagnetic door to open so I could get inside the bank.

Then I felt someone tap my shoulder. I looked up and turned to see one of the security men saying something to me. I unplugged the ear piece and he repeated what he’d earlier said.

“Is that Kito Diaries you’re reading?”

I don’t know what startled me more – the fact that someone had caught me indulging my guilty pleasure of reading KD, or the fact that a security man knew about Kito Diaries (I don’t mean to sound elitist here). I was so taken aback that I didn’t even reply him before practically fleeing into the banking hall. (I guess the unique pink colour of the site was a giveaway)

Inside the hall, I buzzed PP to tell him about what had happened, and the story whore that he is, he laughed and basically ordered me to finish my business in the bank, go out, find the security man and engage him.

Engage him for what kwanu? I wanted to know.

Who knows, he might have a story to tell, the story whore replied.

I shook my head and laughed, unsure whether I wanted to further any acquaintanceship with the man. The decision however was taken away from me, because when I stepped out of the bank to leave, he wasn’t anywhere in sight.

So I went on home with the realization that Kito Diaries is full of faceless, voiceless people reading it and taking away from it what they will.

I have a question for you though, dear KDian: Have you told someone about Kito Diaries today? Let us spread the word.

Written by Pete

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