THE ORIGINAL SIN (A Kito Story)

I met Moet (the name he introduced himself to me with) on Grindr. I was in Enugu and he was in Port Harcourt. We were chatting off and on for several months, with the understanding that whenever we’re in the same location, we would meet. I always knew I’d be in Port Harcourt sometime, because I had a place there.

When I eventually relocated back to PH, I let Moet know, and he immediately began requesting for us to see. But the thing is, as someone who’s very aware of kito and the dangers of hooking up, I wasn’t very committed to seeing him. He’d buzz me today and request for me to come see him at his friend’s place in Rumuola. I’d say okay and then later renege. He’d call again a few days later, asking me to come see him at another friend’s place in Rumuokoro. Again, I would commit and then later pull away. It didn’t help that he not only kept asking me to come see him at different places, but it always had to be a friend’s house.

It’s not like I suspected Moet of being kito. In fact, he played the game well when we were getting acquainted on Grindr and then WhatsApp. He was open and frank, wanting to exchange social media information, and even acting like he was reluctant with meeting people because of the prevalence of kito. Whenever I gave him any information about my identity, he would say, “Hmm, I hope this is true o, and that you are real. Please, I don’t want to fall victim. You know how wicked these kito people can be.”

In fact, at some point, I started feeling like I was the one who posed a danger to him than he to me. And so, my thinking was always: he can’t be kito if he’s letting me know how scared he is of getting victimized. However, it was my acquired paranoia and reluctance over stressing myself with going out into the hectic streets of Port Harcourt over anything other than work that made me unwilling to go met him whenever he asked for us to see.

I stay in Woji by myself, and I’d always ask him to come over instead, since whenever I asked why we always had to see at his friend’s place, he would say his own place wasn’t conducive. But he’d decline, giving a reason that I could relate with: that he doesn’t feel safe coming to my place for a first meet.

So it seemed as though we were at a stalemate…

…Until he buzzed me one day to tell me that he was at a friend’s place in Woji.

Finally, a convenient meet!

I told him I couldn’t go to his friend’s place, except we first meet at a junction which is well known to Woji residents. He agreed.

On that day (it was a Wednesday), we met and he seemed cool. After a brief chitchat, I felt comfortable enough to go along with his suggestion to go to his friend’s place. He was this skinny dude who was smaller than me in size, and I remember thinking he didn’t have an intimidating presence.

So, we went over to his friend’s place. I had no intention of having sex with him on that first meet, and so, after hanging out for some time with him and his friend – during which time they gisted about a party that was coming up on Sunday – I expressed my desire to leave. As Moet walked me out, I suggested our next meet be at my place, where there’d be more privacy for us to hook up. He agreed.

And so, on Friday, he came to my house. We had a nice time together. The sex was great. We had many intimate moments when we just cuddled and talked about random stuff relating to being gay and gay sex. I found myself really liking him, and so, when he suggested staying the rest of the weekend at my place, I was readily cool with that. This meant, of course, that I would have to shoulder the responsibility of his needs during that time. I didn’t mind. I had enough money on me for our welfare all weekend.

On Saturday, he told me he wanted to ask over a guy he’d been chatting with on social media. They were friends but hadn’t seen face to face. And apparently, this guy lived not-too far away from me. I acquiesced, and soon, the guy dropped by. He was pleasant company and after some hours of gist and laughter, he left.

In the evening, Moet brought up the topic of the party he and his friend had talked about when I saw him on Wednesday. He wanted us to go. According to him, it’d be an all-night party and he could book a room for us in the hotel where the party would be holding. I asked him where the party would be happening and he said Rumuokwurushi. He said he would leave my place on Sunday morning to go back to his place for a change of clothes; then he’d go on to the hotel and book the room, and I would meet him there in the evening, as the party starts by 9 PM.

Upon hearing this, my aversion to stress kicked in. It was bad enough that he was asking me to commit my time and energy to a faraway event that I had no stakes in; he was also asking for me to make that commitment at night?

Nah!

I told him that knowing who I am, I may agree now to this plan, but when the time comes, I would talk myself out of stepping out of my house. However, if he sticks around so that we could both go together, then I wouldn’t have any excuse not to go.

He seemed unhappy with my suggestion. He pointed out that he wouldn’t have any clothes for the party. I told him he could wear mine. He said he wouldn’t have any money to book the hotel room with.

“Unless you will lend me the money and I’ll pay you back later,” he said.

I said okay.

The next morning, I couldn’t find my earpiece. I have two phones – an Android and an iPhone. And I have two Apple earpieces, each for both phones. I couldn’t find the one for my Android phone, and I mentioned it to Moet that it was missing. He joined me in looking for it, and it quickly became obvious that it wasn’t anywhere in the house, he noticed my increasing agitation, and said that maybe, his friend, the one who came to see him the previous day, had taken the earpiece when he left.

Of course, I wasn’t pleased to hear this, and even though I didn’t say it outright, I made sure he knew that I didn’t think much of him associating with petty thieves. I told him to kindly call his friend and instruct him to return the earpiece. He said he would.

Toward evening time, we started getting ready for the party. I lent him the clothes he asked for. There was also a watch, expensive and something I only wore occasionally, which he asked to put on. I declined at first, telling him that even as the owner, I am very particular about wearing the watch out. He pleaded, and eventually, I capitulated.

By some minutes to 8 PM, we were dressed and out. It wasn’t a straight one-taxi trip to Rumuokwurushi. We’d have to take a few drops and do some trekking. And right from the moment we were out of my house, I noticed a change in Moet’s mood. He became less genial, almost moody, preferring to walk ahead of me instead of next to me. and when we got into our first taxi, pressed up against him as I was, I could feel the outline of what seemed to be my earpiece.

It had to be my earpiece, because I didn’t see him with any of his throughout the weekend. My heart sank a little in disappointment, as I considered that this guy who I’d had in my house and taken care of all weekend was both a thief and a liar.

But I didn’t confront him. His gloomy attitude made me decide to hold off bringing this up until at least we’d retired to our hotel room after the party.

We got to Rumuokwurushi in time, and then started on what he assured me was a short trek.

“The hotel is not far,” he said.

I was starting to feel uneasy, but the anxiety had more to do with the fact that I was out at night in strange surroundings.

Soon, we got to a narrow bridge that was constructed above a rushing body of water. The bridge was long and from where we were, I couldn’t see the other end. But I could see the tops of the buildings on that end, which assured me that we were still within civilization.

However, as we approached the end of the bridge, I was startled to see that there was in fact a bushy pathway we would have to walk through to get to where those houses were. My self-assurance deflated and I was instantly tense with apprehension. I fell behind Moet and my demeanour was alert as I started sharply looking everywhere around me. Moet seemed to notice my tenseness because he was now shooting quick glances behind at me. his movements were unnatural, and in that instant, before the shadows ahead of us moved to reveal other bodies, I knew with every certainty that he had led me into a kito setup.

The events that occurred in the next few moments happened with such dizzying speed, I still don’t understand it all.

First, I saw the shadows moving and there was an emergence of evil in the air as a group of guys began rushing out of the bushes.

Then, Moet, who clearly had anticipated my sense of flight, turned around and grabbed me.

This was when my advantage over him in size proved useful. I lashed out with my fists, catching him unawares. He lost his hold on me and I turned and fled back toward the bridge. Fear surged through me when I heard raised voices and rushed footsteps as the guys chased after me. I was so blinded by panic that I could barely see where I was going, and I lost my footing and tumbled to the ground. It was a sloped terrain, and the fall carried me in a roll until I landed inside the water.

I dropped straight under the water, and my panic turned liquid as I found myself facing the reality of drowning, because I couldn’t swim. And it must have been a river because it had a strong current. Flailing and shouting, my body was swept forward in the direction the river was flowing. The frantic motions of my hands and legs must have counted for something, because I wasn’t drowning; instead I kept going under and coming up again.

While this was going on, I was aware of these guys running along on the riverbank. They were laughing and shouting, calling out their taunts, maniacal in their glee over my doomed fate. I heard someone, Moet most likely, shout at me, “Since you decide say you wan stingy with your things, e good make you drown! You go die here today!”

Another shouted, “You even lucky say na water go kill you! We don machete person hand comot wey fall into our trap before!”

I tried to shut out their voices as I focused on staying afloat and alive. I swam as best as I could, following the current of the river, while looking around for where to pull myself to the safety of land.

The river eventually began moving me toward one of ita banks, and I encouraged the motion by swimming hard in that direction.

Then –

“Hey! See am! E don dey reach that side o!”

I heard them shouting and saw them running toward the side where I was swimming to. Even if I got there before them, I wasn’t sure I’d have the energy to outrun them. Besides I wouldn’t even know where to run to, seeing as I didn’t know anything about these environs. So, I pushed away from that direction and continued swimming along with the river current. They laughed when they saw what I’d done and continued to taunt me.

As I swam, I finally saw a break in the thick bushes that banked the river. This time, they were walls that no doubt fenced in people’s compounds. They were high but not insurmountable. So, I steered myself to one of the walls and pulled myself up from the water. I began to grapple with the rough uncemented brick of the wall, hoisting myself up toward the top.

Then again, I heard my pursuers shouting. “E don dey enter that compound wey nobody dey live!”

I became more frantic in my efforts to get over the wall. This had to be my escape, because I simply couldn’t go back into the water.

I got to the top and jumped into the darkness of the compound. It was a high jump and I half expected to hit hard ground. But my feet dropped onto muddy ground, whose soil had gotten so softened, it was basically a quagmire, sucking my feet into its muddy depths as I moved. The compound was dark and looked vacant. It didn’t seem like anyone was living here. But I could see lights coming from the next compound. So, I forced my legs through the morassy ground to the fence and began another climb.

This time, when I dropped into the other compound, the ground was solid. I must have startled the elderly man taking in the nightly fresh air outside, because he jumped up from his seat and quickly hobbled inside the house, crying out to the inhabitants that a thief had just jumped into their compound.

In a matter of seconds, a swarm of people had rushed out to accost me. In tears, I quickly began to protest my innocence, explaining that I was a victim of attempted robbery. That I’d been going down the bridge on my way to a friend’s party when some guys jumped me and I barely managed to escape by falling into the water.

The moment I mentioned the bridge, they all started talking at once.

“Those boys again…!”

 “That bridge – how many times are we going to tell people to stop using that bridge at night…!”

“Seriously, those guys are a menace…!”

“You’re lucky. The things we hear they do to their victims eh…!”

I told them that I wasn’t a resident of the area and didn’t know the bridge was a notorious breeding ground for criminals and dangerous to use at night.

They empathized with me. They brought some water which I used to wash the mud off my feet. I used that opportunity to check to see that my iPhone had been damaged from my time in the water. When, some minutes later, I was ready to go and after telling them I didn’t know how to get out of here, about three guys decided to accompany me to where I’d get transport. As we emerged from their compound, I saw those hoodlums rushing toward the empty compound next door.

They saw me. Then they saw that I had company. And I watched them slowly and reluctantly back away.

My saviours followed me until I got into a keke, and soon, I was homebound. All through the different stops on my way home, and when I got home, till the next day, I was shaken by the trauma of what I went through. Even now, it was very hard for me to recall all that happened in order to tell this story because it feels so nightmarish. I just couldn’t believe that someone who is so obviously gay and who I’d established that much of an intimate connection with, would go on to brutalize me like this. When I told my story to some friends who are residents of Port Harcourt, the general response they gave to my bafflement over what Moet did to me was: “PH boys are like that. They are generally a lazy bunch. Whether gay or not, the moment they perceive that you have money, they will try to set you up. Even heterosexual ones who have girlfriends, check them well and you’ll see that their lifestyles are maintained by their girls.”

I sometimes can’t believe that in spite of all the precautions I took to ensure a risk-free hookup with someone, I still ended up going through such a traumatic experience, where I almost died.

But I’ll be fine.

In the meantime, click HERE for the identity of Moet, the bastard whose betrayal very nearly cost me my life.

Written by Nelly