BLOOD AND STARS

BLOOD AND STARS

Last year, when I was in the hostel, a quarrel broke out between me and a roommate.

So, a discussion on homosexuals had been brought up (I can’t remember how that discussion started), and as I was wont to do, I started educating them – my roommates – on the subject matter and how it was time for them to stop being homophobic. While some got my point and said they weren’t homophobic but were having a hard time accepting it (some of these guys were really easy to reason with), there was this particular knuckle-head who was not just a gym rat but was big with muscles everywhere and nearly as tall as I am, and he was the kind of homophobe who did not want to hear the word “homo” let alone “sexual”. He began ranting, talking about 14 years imprisonment and all that same old, same old.

Then all of a sudden, he had rounded on me, calling me a fag and talking about how disgraceful I was to them, nye, nye, nye.

I looked on as he ranted on for a while, before calmly cutting him off saying, “Yes, I agree, I’m a fag. But I would never fuck you, not with all the money in this world. And don’t bother covering your STI-infested ass with the blood of Jesus. It won’t cure you.”

As I said this, my other roommates burst out into laughter, with one shouting at the knuckle-head (who we should call Ogum): “Is it your gay? Guy, rest abeg.”

This of course didn’t go down well with Ogum, because his rage grew. And for a brief moment, I thought he was going mad. He called me a slur I can’t remember, and I retorted by saying he was a disgrace to his people of Anambra.

This was when hell broke loose. He stepped up to me and shoved me so hard, I staggered back. I wasn’t about to let that go, and I shoved him back. The next thing I heard was him bellowing, “How dare you touch me with your HOMOSEXUALISM hand!”

I was about to laugh and say, “What da fuck is homosexualism hand?” when everywhere went dark. I heard a cracking sound followed by this sharp pain shooting from my face to my brain. Oga had punched me right on my jaw, and while everywhere was dark, all I could see were stars. All that was before my eyes were stars, and for a moment I almost passed out.

But I held on to a chair and shook my head to clear the stars I was seeing. Then I turned to see him sauntering back to his bed. That was when rage like I’d never felt before surged through me. My entire body began vibrating as I darted toward him, lashing out with my fist. My blow caught him right at his neck as he turned to face me, the force of the punch whipping his head sharply about. The next thing I knew, he was reeling and dropping to the ground. First his head slammed into a wooden table next to us, and then he dropped to the ground and lay there on the floor motionless.

The room instantly became quiet, as these other boys who’d been trying to break up our brewing kerfuffle froze, like I’d frozen, looking from me to him on the floor, the mounting horror almost a visible tide. My eyes had cleared immediately of the red-hot rage I was feeling seconds earlier. And then, I saw it.

First it was drop on the floor close to his head. Then it began to expand, flowing out like someone had opened a sachet of red liquid beneath his head. Before long, the floor around his head was covered with his blood and the fear that had replaced my anger was rising to suffocating levels. Interestingly, in those few terror-stricken moments, nobody moved, so petrified were we by the realisation of what had possibly happened.

Then he moved with a groan. The sigh of relief I expelled came like a rush of air as I watched him slowly get up. And we could see that his eyebrow had sustained a very deep cut running from his eyebrow to his forehead, and it was bleeding profusely. He placed his hands on his forehead to stanch the bleeding as he walked up to me and said with a low snarl, “You see this thing wey you do me, I go do you back.”

And then, some roommates grabbed him, wound a cloth around his head and hustled him off to the clinic to get his head stitched.

I kept replaying what happened in my head, wondering at the speed with which it had all escalated, even as the remaining guys in the room were on my case for taking the fight too far. I tried to explain how I couldn’t even remember slamming his head into the table, and I couldn’t even tell them that my jaw was broken from the blow he aimed at my face. I simply curled up into my bed and thanked God Ogum hadn’t died.

He returned to the room late at night with a plaster on his head, and came over to my bed. I was braced for some more ugliness, but instead, he apologized, saying he should have known better. As he talked, I felt such a swell of relief. I hadn’t been looking forward to more tension between us as he plotted his revenge. I apologized too and asked how his injury was, and he smiled and said it wasn’t hurting that bad. I turned back into my bed with the pain in my jaw constantly increasing.

And that was it. After that incident, we became somewhat close. Although he still went on to fight and beat up another guy in the room.

Why am I sharing this? Well, I ran into him a few days ago, and he hugged me and we chatted for a bit and talked about the fight and then laughed over it. I have no idea if he has grown past his homophobia, but there is something I didn’t tell him that fateful day last year – and still didn’t tell him when we met again days ago: that he broke my jaw. As long as he continues to believe that I scored the only victory in that fight, then all is right with the world.

As we celebrate pride month, don’t forget to speak and live your truth. Happy Pride Month, people.

Written by Duke

Previous THE COLLEGE CHRONICLES
Next Rihanna Is The World's Wealthiest Female Musician With A $600 Million Net Worth

About author

You might also like

The Happenings 9 Comments

Frank Ocean Shares Moving Essay About Homophobia and the Orlando Tragedy

Four years after shocking the R&B world by revealing his first love was a man and subsequently releasing the stunning Channel Orange, Frank Ocean has shared some moving words about

Our Stories 17 Comments

MY PROBLEM…AND MY SOLUTION

Love is a tricky thing. It varies in intensity and in the specificity of emotions. It is sometimes the most beautiful thing in the world and, at other times, it’s

Our Stories 73 Comments

CURSED IN LOVE

“He’s worth a try. He seems different.” That’s what you tell yourself. You begin to convince yourself that you can make this work. Your mind, racing back and forth, like

15 Comments

  1. Realme
    June 05, 07:57 Reply

    Speaking my Truth with the fist, that I can’t do..but I’m so going to speak ..my Truth (in other ways of course) ..it all that matters and what makes me happiest… love this story

  2. Higwe
    June 05, 08:27 Reply

    A gay guy who does not cower and fights with his fist (not merely amphigoric jabs )

    I stan .. tuale baba .?

    Nobi by muscle …ask Anthony Joshua .

    One of best stories I’ve read here – laconic ;apt.

    • PHOENIX
      June 05, 09:44 Reply

      Hi higwe,
      My friend got this crush on you with the size of the Asia and Africa continent combined. ???
      He can’t seem to find his bow and arrow so I’m shooting this shot on his behalf.

      He’s gonna kee me but my phone is outta coverage area????

      Now, what are you going to do about that?

      • Pink Panther
        June 05, 10:12 Reply

        You’re shooting a shot for your friend who didn’t ask you to.

        LOL. OK.

        • PHOENIX
          June 05, 10:53 Reply

          Ah ah PP, what be your own now????.
          For all you know, issa early Christmas gift (lmao).
          Plus, can’t an archer give a friend the game without informing him beforehand he’s going to hunt? ?‍♀️????

      • Higwe
        June 06, 09:24 Reply

        Looooooool ?????
        How can your friend be crushing on someone he’s never even seen ? ??‍♂️??‍♂️???

        • PHOENIX
          June 07, 04:28 Reply

          “I have a wide variety of options sense-wise to choose from, so I denounce the sense of vision in this case.

          I’m attracted to him by his idiosyncrasies.
          In a nutshell.”

          Here you go….. He’s believing in his sixth sense. Just get to know him. You gonna thank me later?.

          You guys can start with the email thingy…. and my work will be done here???

  3. Mandy
    June 05, 10:18 Reply

    So it took a near death experience for him to realise that you as a gay man is deserving of his respect. SMH. You see? Violence in the pursuit of social justice does have its own merits. This made me remember the interview Jussie Smollett gave Good Morning America (before we all knew he was a liar), where he made a case for fighting back. ???

    • Opal
      June 05, 14:31 Reply

      Not sure we can confirm if he lied. The whole stuff is complicated.

  4. DexStar
    June 05, 12:31 Reply

    What a beautiful piece. Wish I can throw such a punch. I always preach against violence tho, I guess it’s cos I can’t even fight. ?But when it comes to some tongue lashing… ???

  5. Sim
    June 05, 16:35 Reply

    Heh Duke, I believe we met in New Jersey.

    I ain’t surprised u sucker punched the mofo to near death. All those muscles ain’t playing.

    Happy Pride bro.. and thanks for helping me out during those dark periods/uncertain time I had in NJ.

    Dr. Sim

  6. Orobo Hunter
    June 07, 08:54 Reply

    Yaaaaaaaaasss!
    Yaaaaaaaaasssss!

    Punch that motherfucker!!

    Damn! I wish a nigga would try this with me lol.

    Good job, Duke.

  7. Deen
    December 29, 16:32 Reply

    Yasssss!
    That nigga deserve every bit of what you gave to him. It’s his kind of homophobe that set up kito scam.

Leave a Reply