DON’T CALL ME BIGGIE

After reading Dubem’s BIG AND BEAUTIFUL?, I felt inspired to tell the stories on my personal experiences as a plus-sized man in our community.

Man: Dayo (not real name)

Location: Lagos

Case: Unrequited Love

Wahala: By Force

I met Dayo in church. He was a protocol official and I was in the choir. During service, you’d find me singing and shaking all the flab on my gorgeous body to the glory of God. And unbeknownst to me, while I was simply busy praising my God, the Devil was turning that into a distraction for Dayo.

I started really noticing Dayo when he began finding ways to either be seated beside me or a few seats away from me whenever we had any group meeting, which was basically every Sunday. Even when he was obviously not supposed to be in that group, you’d still find him there, sharing my space. This became so regular, that it wasn’t very long before he began asking me, at the end of the meeting, to wait for him so we could stroll down to the junction together or get the same Bolt ride home, never mind that he didn’t even live in the same vicinity as I did.

This graduated to him requesting we go and have lunch after service, which I turned down the few times he asked, because I cook every weekend. Then one Sunday, after he asked me out to lunch and I declined, without thinking, I invited him over to my place for us to have lunch there.

That was the story began.

Dayo turned out to be one of the kindest men I’d ever known, always asking to pay for me to cook for our weekends, setting up my TV Netflix and subscribing so we could chill on his visits to getting me a split unit for more comfort. And all through these acts of generosity, he stayed friendly and never giving voice to whatever his true intentions were. I mean, I suspected there was more to what he was doing, but I didn’t initiate the conversation, because my gold-digging alter-ego was enjoying all this awoof that didn’t appear to come with any attachments.

Then, one Sunday, after eating and all, we settled for some Netflix pastime – you know, that small, relatively-unknown show called Bridgerton. And as we were going through the romantic wreckage that is Season 2, I decided to pause the action of Anthony and Kate’s breathing for each other, turned to Dayo and asked point-blank, “Dayo, what d you want?”

When his response was to feign ignorance, I pointed out everything he’d done for me and how generous he’d been to me. It just didn’t seem to me like something someone would do without expecting something in return.

To my utmost shock, baba vexed. He went into a tirade about how “you gay guys can’t accept goodness for what it is without intentions”.

You gay guys?!

I pulled the brakes immediately. “Oga, hold on, who said who is gay? Who asked who what and why are you so pissed off?”

“We have mutual friends on social media, Rex,” he snapped. “And they’ve told me stuff.”

It was my turn to become incensed, and I told him to get out of my house. As he stormed off, I shot at him, “And make sure you bring truck to come and carry everything you bought for me, in case it will bring insult.”

He didn’t respond to that. Simply got into his car and drove off.

In the following three weeks, we didn’t encounter each other because he didn’t come to church. Then I got a message on WhatsApp from a number I don’t have in my phone.

STRANGER: Hello Rex, I’m Frank, Dayo’s friend.

ME: Hello Frank. What can I do for you? Is Dayo okay?

FRANK: He’s fine. He asked me to apologize to you.

Hian!

This Frank went on to say some things, and I drew my conclusions from the things he didn’t say. It became clear to me that Dayo is gay and confused about it, and has a down-low friend who is a mutual friend of mine who convinced him that I am from the community, hence Dayo’s friendship and gifts.

After all the background gist, I was like, “Okay, what can I do for you?”

FRANK: Dayo has been sick ever since the fight you guys had. He has stopped functioning and is saying that if I don’t talk to you on his behalf, he will kill himself.

Wawu!

Reacting to a sudden instinct, I decided to run Frank’s number through Truecaller, and guess what, children of God: Frank was DAYO ADERINDE on Truecaller.

LOL!

Well, two can play.

I went back to the chat and started telling “Frank” how Dayo and I were already dating, and how he was disrespectful to me, and was even making it obvious in church so much so that people had started asking questions; that that was why we fought.

I kept heaping accusations on Dayo, and at some point, “Frank” excused himself from the chat. Moments later, Dayo was hitting me up with his number, sending me multiple voice notes saying, “Rex, what is wrong with you? How dare you accuse me of all these things?”

“If you want to talk to me next time, talk to me directly. Don’t be going around behind multiple personalities,” I retorted.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he fumed. “Why will you say those things about me?”

The exchange became a fight, and when I’d had enough, I blocked him.

The following Sunday, he was in church. The frost was real between us, and we avoided each other’s paths.

However, after a powerful praise and worship session, it was testimony time.

The pastor at the altar announced, “Let’s call on our brother, Doctor Dayo Aderinde for his thanksgiving.”

Hearing Dayo’s name called out, and especially in the wake of everything that had happened to us, caused my heart to make a sharp drop for the pit of my stomach.

What is going on? What is his testimony? I hope this guy does not want to give me a Holy-Spirit-sized kito here in this church? I thought with slowly-mounting panic.

Dayo went up and began his testimony and started on a long-winding story of uninteresting things God had done for him that week. And then –

“I want to thank God for my best friend, Brother Rex…”

I sat bolt-upright in my seat.

“…for him being a brother and friend to me and for helping me find myself and fight depression…”

I stared at him, feeling heat flood my face as members of the choir shot me interested glances.

“I just want to thank him and say God bless him.”

I didn’t know what to do with myself. Abeg can this ground open and swallow me already?

The whole church was clapping and my friends in the choir were shouting with enthusiasm. Their joy was the last thing I was feeling; anger and embarrassment crowded my head as I sat there, hoping to disappear.\

If I thought that was the end, I was wrong.

After service, the pastor found me and thanked me for everything I’d been doing as a good Christian. As we were talking, he sighted Dayo and gestured him over. I felt my heart pounding. What is it now?

When Dayo came up to us, the pastor said to me, “So, Rex, I heard you and Dayo had a spat. What can be so bad that you don’t want to be there for your soul brother?”

I gaped at him, the muscles of my face contorting with various emotions. Exactly what was Dayo Aderinde doing to me in this church! I could feel him standing there, but was afraid that if I acknowledged him, I would combust with the anger building up inside me.

The pastor continued, “Brother Dayo came to me last week, looking so unkempt, and it took a lot to calm him down.”

I took in a deep breath and said, “Pastor, don’t worry. I’m sure me and Dayo can handle this privately. I promise, we will fix it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, pastor.”

“Okay then.”

As he walked away, I shot Dayo a stony look, turned and headed off in the direction of his car. He didn’t need to be told. He simply followed after me.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Written by Rex