The Law School Journal (Entry 2)

June 8

Knowing that I have to study more, I decided to put a cap on the distractions I can allow myself for the upcoming weeks. No more reading any book that isn’t related to law school. It’s sad that the last book I’ll read for a couple of months is Bobby Hall’s Supermarket, but man’s got to up his game. I won’t be following shows like The Handmaid’s Tale and Grey’s Anatomy; in the meantime, I’ll enjoy Modern Family, Will & Grace, Big Little Lies and Pose till the kingdom comes.

Anyway, I have settled in nicely. I won’t bore you with the details, but let’s just say that I have fallen asleep in class only twice (in two weeks). It’s important that I mention that I was actually happy that I did get to sleep for those fifteen minutes. Yawns. Yes, I’ve been having problems with sleeping.

My friend has been sweet. I realize that at this point, I have to start calling him Yab because ‘my friend’ just sounds too…impersonal. So yes, I think I’ve made progress with Yab. We communicate. I don’t just interrogate him; he tells me stuff naturally. Just like the story of an ex that cheated on him with a friend (that isn’t the problem) and then messed up whatever friendship or relationship that Yab had with either (that was the problem).

For some time after he told me that story, I questioned my own idea of loyalty and friendship. I am the kind of friend that keeps my friend’s lovers at arm’s length because I don’t want to be caught in a conflict of interest if shit hits the ceiling. Yes, I know. There are several things wrong with that. But I can’t help me.

Anyway, I keep going on Grindr at least once a day. I don’t know what I expect to change, but it’s become part of my routine. Wake up, cue up music for the day, check Grindr and meditate.

I stumbled on another person on the app who’s in school here, too. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I agreed to meet him. I mean, I should have pumped the breaks when he asked me, ‘Hope you are not girly?’ I guess I still don’t really grasp the concept of red flags.

So yes, we met and our conversation was weird. Mostly. I had expected that he would be the one driving the conversation since he was more talkative whilst we were chatting, but then I got there only to realize that he can’t drive us to where I’d like to go. I tried. There were several minutes of uncomfortable silence that hung over us like the ceiling. One of the few questions he asked was, “So, have you met other TB people here?”

I wasn’t about to out people without their consent, so I just lied and said, “No.” In my defense, that wasn’t totally a lie. I hadn’t met (a) any TB person (b) who would want to meet him.

And then there’s the part where he asked if I had a big dick, because that is the only reason why he plays TB – the big dicks. Okay…

Classes are more interesting. For one, I am not drowning anymore. You see, the first week I spent here, I wondered what I was going to do with myself. There are so much materials and books and things to read, I didn’t know where to start. I would come to class, struggle to follow the lecture, leave more confused and frustrated than I was when I woke up.

Thankfully, Gay Jesus has blessed my life with some beautiful people who have crossed this Red Sea before me. I reached out (which is harder than I describe here because I don’t like or know exactly how to ask for help) and they showed me where to walk. Now, I’m not drowning. I’m just swimming against the current. Praise be!

Another reason is that my classmates look fine in black and white! I see some guys and my stomach just gets queasy. No, I’m not crushing. I’m just admiring from afar; you know, window shopping with no intention to buy anything. My favorites are E and D. They aren’t drop dead gorgeous, but very appealing. Maybe I should describe them a little?

D is dark skinned with dimples. There’s a certain light in his eyes, it casts a shadow on his wide nose. He has fine boy syndrome. He’s fine and he knows it. It’s obvious in the way he carries himself, the way he lets the girls fall over themselves pining over him. Bah!

E wears a buzz-cut kind of afro haircut. There’s a distinct hook in the way he holds his right hand that betrays the fact that it had been broken before. I wonder what happened there. I should ask him, but I have to talk to him first. So far, I don’t see myself doing that. He raps. He’s really good, too. Please don’t ask me how I know that and some other things since I don’t talk to people. I can’t be stressed. Anyway, the day I saw E in durag, I choked on air. He makes durag classy! Lord of Light, help me sha!

I know, I know; I didn’t come to Abuja to watch man. I should do more than watch, right?

Anyway, whilst I was struggling with my distractions, some people seem to be reveling in theirs.

Dozie, whose love of thick ladies is so legendary, can’t help but trail them like ant marching toward sugar. A thick lady must sit either to his left or right during class. I can’t say that I blame him. There are people of all shapes, height and sizes here. Whatever your spec is, you’ll find them here; single (even the married ones are single here) and ready to mingle.

Thursday night, I was on my way back from a walk when I noticed a black, tinted-glass car belonging to one of the older men on the path. It was parked by the side, ignition off. Under the dying glow of the streetlight several feet away, I noticed the car bucking on its own.

The next day, when passing that spot, I noticed a yellow Durex condom wrap on the gravel. Looks like people are getting their rocks off. May the Lord open.

Or, He better not. We don’t want people getting pregnant when they’ll be writing exams in about nine months.

Written by The Many-Faced God