FOREWORD: Just a quick one, guys; if you’re on BBM, do kindly join the Kito Diaries BBM Channel. The pin is C00250513. Or you may scan the barcode below. Thanks. 🙂BBM Channel_KD


Lagos on a Sunday morning was what I suspected other cities, sleepier metropolises, would be on a bustling day. There wasn’t the usual crush of pedestrians plying the sidewalks, and the roads weren’t encumbered with motorists impatient to get to their destinations and yet unable to make good on their haste. There were not a lot of passengers waiting at the bus stops, and as such, the minimal number of commercial buses in the traffic hurtled down the roads, only pausing for very brief stops.

The bus conveying me soon got to Oshodi, and the passengers alighted, some of them staying put when the conductor began yodeling, “Cele-Ilasa-Mile Toooo! Cele-Ilasa-Mile Toooo!”

I was headed for Mile Two, but I had had enough of the rickety heap the driver, himself as aged as his vehicle, was powering. In spite of the day, Oshodi was quite astir with activity, unwilling to succumb to the unhurriedness of Sunday, like a young mother reluctant to let go of her only child on his first play-date. The area didn’t have its characteristic horde of people and traffic, but there was still enough chaos and the day was warm enough to make me wish I was spending the day back home, in the comfort of my bedroom.

I soon located and got into another bus, a newer-looking vehicle with a younger man behind the wheel. Both driver and conductor were puffy-eyed, coarse-voiced and in good spirits, as though still riding the high from a very good last night.

Where are you now? Jaja pinged me the moment I got settled inside the bus.

Me: At Oshodi. Just entered Mile Two bus.

Jaja: Good. Remember, when you get to Mile Two, you look for Abule-Ado bus, and drop at the Abule-Ado junction.

Me: Abule-Ado? I thought you said you stay in Satellite Town.

Jaja: They’re all in the same area, on different sides of Badagry expressway.

I contemplated his message, staring at my phone and trying to decide if the tiny flutter I’d just felt in my chest cavity was the budding feeling of unease or the reminiscent flicker of desire. Before my mind could gain purchase of it however, the flutter was gone, and I was adjusting on my seat so another passenger could sit.

I’d been listening to music from my phone on the drive from Ojuelegba to Oshodi. So I re-plugged my ear with the earpiece, revisited my playlist and settled an uninterested stare on the view beyond the window that soon began to speed past us as the driver engaged his gear and began the drive to Mile Two.

Despite the frequent stops we made along the way, because of the light traffic on the road, it was about ten minutes later when the conductor began shouting, “Mile Two, come down! Orile! Orile!”

I stepped down to the side of the road. The temperature had gotten warmer, and I snapped on my sunglasses against the nascent glare of the sun, before hurrying away from the highway, where we’d been offloaded, to the service lane where there was a number of buses idling and a clamour of destinations.

It wasn’t very long before I found the vehicle I wanted. The bus was half-filled, and immediately after I slid in, the passengers started a din of complaints.

“Driver, go nau! Shebi you go still see passenger for road…!”

“I dey go church o, I don late sef…!”

“Abeg, carry us comot hia, driver…!”

Buckling under the racket, the driver signaled his conductor back into the bus, and we were soon on our way. Beyond Festac (where Adebola lives), I was unfamiliar with this part of Lagos; I hadn’t even been to Satellite Town before. I leaned toward the passenger next to me, a young man nattily dressed in a suit and holding a bible and fabric-bound iPad.

“Excuse me, please…”

He turned to me.

“Um, I’m going to Abule-Ado” – I faltered over the pronunciation, not sure if I got it right – “and I’m wondering if –”

“Oh, Abule-Ado,” he interrupted. (I got it wrong) “I’m passing there. Don’t worry, let me tell the conductor.” He arched his head at the bulky, shabbily-clad man who was already collecting his fare, and fired off a short flurry of Yoruba, “Conductor, won fe sokale ni Abule-Ado.” He gestured at me.

The conductor looked at him, looked at me, and growled his acquiescence.

That matter taken care of, I turned back to my phone, and typed a message to Jaja: We just left Mile Two, now heading to your side.

Five seconds later, he replied: You entered Abule-Ado bus, right?

Me: Yes. By the way, what’s your number?

Jaja: Why?

Me: You don’t expect me to rely on pinging you when I get to the junction, do you? What if the data network there is not favourable?

Jaja: Ok. And he pinged his number to me.

I copied the digits to my call list and dialed the number briefly. The connection must have been made before I cut the call, because he pinged me: Lol, you dey flash me ni?

Me: Puhleeze! I don’t flash. I’m too big for that.

He replied with a laugh emoji.

A few minutes later, after a quick word of thanks to the bible-and-iPad-toting fellow passenger, I disembarked at the hardscrabble environment that was Abule-Ado junction. The potholes gaped on the tarred roads, and the waysides were majorly ruts of drying mud. I gingerly stepped under the shade of a tree, before calling Jaja.

“How far, are you there yet?” The voice was smooth, slightly uncultured, and sounded like the speaker had more practice speaking pidgin than English.

Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to meet this guy.

“Yes, I’m here,” I said crisply.

“Oh, good, good. Oya, shey bike dey there?” he said, lapsing into vernacular. “Enter one, tell am make him carry you go –”

“Wait a minute, I’m not coming to your house straightaway, I hope you know that,” I cut in, my tone starched with my mounting irritation.

He paused a beat before saying, “Of course, it’s not my house you’re coming to.”

“Yes, because we agreed to meet at a fast-food first.” I dabbed at the perspiration dewing my forehead. When had it gotten so hot?

“Ehn, yes now, I know.”

“So, why are you telling me to enter a bike to God knows where?”

“So you can come to the fast-food that is close to where I am.”

I swept a look around, taking in the bustle of the junction. There had to be eateries right here; why did I have to journey any further to another? I was starting to get disgruntled. A bead of sweat rolled down my spine, and the back of my clothes began to dampen with the perspiration on my back.

“Are you there?” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” I snapped, not meaning to. “Nawa o, this is not what I bargained for. All this waka…”

“Sorry, baby, no vex, you hear,” he cajoled. “It’s just one bike ride, finish. I’ll be at the junction where the okada man will drop you, waiting for you.”

“You better,” I growled. “Oya tell me how to get there.”

He rattled off the directions, which I relayed to the bike-man I gestured to me. The fare was quickly settled, and I climbed on behind him. As he vroomed off, that flutter fanned out inside my chest again, this time with enough strength to cause my heartbeat to pick up a faster tattoo. Before I could dwell on the feeling, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I maneuvered it out and glanced at the screen. It was Eddie calling.

“Hello, Dee,” he began immediately I picked the call, “are you –”

“Eddie, please, can I call you back?” I shouted into the phone through the roar of the wind whipping past my face. “I’m on a bike now. I’ll call you back soon.” Then I disconnected the call.

Two minutes later, the motorcycle’s engine started giving off a spluttering noise that caused the bike-man to pull up to the roadside. He muttered a cussword in Yoruba as the two of us alighted from his vehicle.

“Oga, e be like say my fuel don finish o.”

I arched an imperious brow at him. “Don’t tell me you expect me to wait for you to go and buy fuel.”

“No, no, no be so. That junction wey you dey go sef, we don almost reach am. Na dia e dey.” He pointed down the road. “That place wey mallam shop dey…”

I squinted into the distance. The ramshackle shed he was pointing at was a reasonable walking distance. The trek would give me time to call back and chat with Eddie, before meeting Jaja. So I paid the bike-man, and started forward.

“Babe, where you dey go that you were on a bike?” Eddie began the moment he answered my call. “Don’t tell me you’re not at home! Just don’t tell me that.”

My mind clicked. “Oh no, Eddie,” I groaned. “We were supposed to see at my place this morning.”

“Unbelievable!” he burst out crossly. “So you forgot. I’ve already finished dressing sef. Wherever you are, better trot your ass back to your house.”

Eddie returned from Abuja yesterday evening, and we’d scheduled to hang out at my place so I could catch him up on all the gist concerning Operation ‘Fuck Doctor Ebiowei Up’.

“Oh Ed darling –”

“You only whip out the darling when you know you’ve really messed up.”

“Yes, I have,” I admitted with a chuckle. “I’m nowhere near my house at the moment.”

“You went to see kporo, didn’t you?”

I laughed. “I went to see a human being, Edidiong. And his name is Jaja.”

“Whatever. He’s a new catch?”


“Where did you guys get acquainted from?”

“On Badoo.”

“And you’re going to see him at his place? Are you frigging kidding me, Declan!”

“No o, not at his place.” That flutter was starting to gain some velocity in my chest cavity. “Just at a fast-food –”

“And how far or near is this fast-food from his place?” he fired, like a drill sergeant.

“To be honest, I’m not sure –”

“Look at this guy o,” he cut in exasperatedly. “How can you be this foolish and be my friend at the same time?”

That stung, but before I could react to his censure, he said, “Do you at least have his picture?”

“Yes,” I said woodenly. I’d stopped walking, and stood there on the untarred road, silently vacillating between indignation at Eddie and chagrin at myself.

“Well, send it to me on BBM, now-now,” he instructed.

“Stay on the line.” I navigated away from the call screen to my Blackberry Messenger. Moments later, I’d messengered Jaja’s photo to Eddie. I watched the chat screen until the ‘R’ sign was highlighted against the file, indicating that he’d seen the photo.

Three seconds later, he gasped into my ear. “Declan, you need to turn around now and get the fuck out of there!”

“Why? What’s the problem?”

“Are you asking me this silly question while in the lair of this dragon?” he snapped.

In spite of myself, I chuckled. “I haven’t even got to our meeting point.” My heart was beating faster now. “Tell me, what’s the deal with him?”

“Remember that blogpost I told you guys I’m working on, that exposé on kito wearers in Lagos, which I introduced on my site when I asked my gay readers to send me their stories and experiences, and pictures of their assaulters, if they had any…”

A chill descended on my heart, and the hold I had on my phone turned clammy with sweat. “Jaja is one of them, the kito guys?”

“He is,” Eddie replied. “In fact, he is one of the ring leaders in the environs of Satellite Town and –”

“Abule-Ado,” I finished in a flat tone.

There was a pause before Eddie said, “You are in Abule-Ado, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I husked. “Yes, I am.”

“Have you gotten to wherever your meeting point is?”

“No. But I can see him.” I’d been looking ahead of me while speaking to Eddie, and had seen, standing at the junction, waiting, the guy I recognized from his photos to be Jaja. He was tall, slimly built, with sinewy arms he was proudly showing off in the wife-beater he was wearing. His hair was an unruly mass of artfully-uncombed coiffure which had become a signature bad-boy look, and beneath it, his face was just as pleasant looking as it was in his pictures.

He had spotted me too, and was gesturing me toward him.

“Get away from there right now, Declan,” Eddie warned through the phone.

“Yes, right away,” I said, and then clicked off.

Then I stood there and glared at the distant figure. He was still waving me forward. A bike-man was speeding toward me. I lifted my hand to wave him to a stop, while dialing Jaja’s number. The bike-man pulled up beside me as Jaja answered my call.

“Ah-ah, baby, what’s up?” He sounded puzzled. “I’m the one waving at you now –”

“Go to hell, Jaja,” I hissed.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Go to hell. That’s the place fit for people like you.” I disconnected, climbed on the bike and asked to be taken to the main road junction.

During the ride, the tremors came over me. I began to shake as the realization of the enormity of how close I’d come to getting violated surged through my mind. I simply could not believe it. Goosebumps raced over my skin, and the hands I lifted to clasp around me were icy.

Count your blessings, Declan. And sometime during the count, buy Eddie a drink.

I clicked open my BBM to chew Jaja out some more. However, I didn’t find him on my active chats. A quick search of my friend list didn’t produce him either. He’d vanished from my phone, deleted his vile self from my contact list. The bastard!

I was both angry and relieved by the time I was dropped at the main road junction. I desperately wanted to get away from here, maybe have another bath when I get home, and wash off this entire near-kito experience like last night’s bad breath.

I was so consumed by my furious thoughts that I didn’t hear him calling my name.

“Declan! Declan!”

A horn tooted.

I remained standing by the road, waiting for a break in the traffic so I could dart across the road to the other side.


An engine growled loudly as a car pulled up beside me with an abruptness that startled me out of my preoccupation. In an instant, as I jumped away from the car and caught a glimpse of the masculine face behind the wheel, I suffered the panicked thought that Jaja had come after me.

Then I recognized the face, and my heart began to beat fast with a different rhythm – the onrush of forgotten passions. I gaped at him as he grinned at me from inside the car. He hadn’t changed; it wasn’t as though so much time had passed since I last saw him. The Mohawk, the high cheekbones, the pouty lips, the allure in his gaze – he was still ever so handsome.

“Hello, Declan,” he murmured. “Long time no see.”

“Hello, Bryson,” I greeted back. “Long time indeed.”

Written by Pink Panther

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  1. bade
    February 02, 05:15 Reply

    When u join a channel, everyone on ur contact list will be able to see the channel u joined… so scared to scan d barcode

    • Metorsexual
      February 02, 07:50 Reply

      My dear…. I didn’t know that too.. I’m still tryna explain to my friends and folks on bbm who are asking when I became an LGBT activist.

  2. Dennis Macauley
    February 02, 05:17 Reply

    Declan with his old school elegance would have been beaten orange and pink. Chai i was looking forward to it!
    ***evil grin***

      • Dennis Macauley
        February 02, 05:33 Reply

        Leave me alone! I belong to the heavenly realm and you belong to the earthly realm. I wont argue with you, you are carnal

    • Gad
      February 02, 05:38 Reply

      I had expected nothing less. Evil genius

      • Dennis Macauley
        February 02, 06:10 Reply

        Gad lemme! I am arranging my firstfruit to pay so that i can buy my own tear rubber car this year and later buy the second one.

        You and PP are distracting me with your earthliness

        • pinkpanthertb
          February 02, 06:18 Reply

          Hahahahahaahaa! Dennis forget that first fruit. You’re going straight to hell

        • Gad
          February 02, 06:41 Reply

          If I were you I will arrange my brains more. But wait, accountants in the house, where do you place a private car on your balance sheets, assets or liabilities? I ask because my grand mum told me that God don’t give his children liabilities.

    • Mitch
      February 02, 07:34 Reply

      Dennis! Dennis oh! Warriz wrongs with you? You want my Declan destroyed before his time? Hmmmmmm……………………………………………………………..DiarizGodOh!

  3. Absalom
    February 02, 05:28 Reply

    Me: Yes. By the way, what’s your number?

    Jaja: Why?

    That’s all the red flag anyone needs. But Declan was still going! 😛

    • Gad
      February 02, 05:47 Reply

      I tell you. He even had another bonus when the venue changed from satellite town to Abule-Ado but he wasted that too. He was just thinking with his ass.

    • Ace
      February 02, 20:00 Reply

      I swear!!!!! Eh!

  4. Gad
    February 02, 05:36 Reply

    A beautiful gift for a monday morning

  5. Dubem
    February 02, 05:40 Reply

    And Bryson is BACK! Oh that delicious straight-boy lover is back! Kizito, where you dey o?!

  6. pete
    February 02, 05:56 Reply

    near-kito experience

  7. KingBey
    February 02, 06:05 Reply

    So Declan finally got shagged after his near-kito experience….I wonder whoever still go to Satellite Town or Festac to meet someone they met online. The reputation there is horrible. I pity my good friend who lives in Festac. The guy go beg for market taya. lol

    • pinkpanthertb
      February 02, 06:16 Reply

      Aswear! There’s a dude i know who lives around Maza Maza. Dude be begging me all the time to recommend him to runs. Lol

    • chestnut
      February 02, 06:24 Reply

      Heeeey!!! Festac boys are not that bad jor! We’re just victims of an exaggerated reputation…hehe

    • MacArdry
      February 02, 08:09 Reply

      Hey,why are you guys knocking Festac-Satellite town axis?.I have a lot of very good friends there,my SO lives around there,Abule Ado to be precise,and they ain’t bad at all.

    • Peak
      February 02, 09:16 Reply

      Seriously, what’s the deal about that end? Guys just think you are nothing but bad news if u live on festac-ojo axis. They say its the capital of kito in lagos. Abeg am I missing something, cos I kinda grew up and live on that axis

  8. chestnut
    February 02, 06:13 Reply

    Hian! Bryson kwa? Ghosts of booty-calls past! Let me just find out that Declan will enter that car and follow him home…*side-eye*
    Kizito, where are u ooooo? U’re d one I’m rooting for,but I don’t know anymore; it’s like I want this for u and Declan more than u want it for urselves…
    That Jaja is too messy for choosing to wear something called a “wife-beater” that day;talk about wearing ur heart/intentions on ur sleeves…literally!Pls,what’s this “wife-beater” thing though? From d contexts I’ve heard it in, I know it’s some sort of garment (and not Ike Turner or Mike Tyson), but what exactly is it? Like a singlet, or a t-shirt…?

  9. KryxxX
    February 02, 06:25 Reply

    Pinky nd Eddie!!
    Y una save Dee naa? Una for allow ones slap land on top that his iyanga doing face small. That guy do shakara pass me gan!

    Nd Mr Bryson…………. Till next week.

  10. mirage
    February 02, 06:27 Reply

    On my way 2 work and reading this,my colleague on the wheel complaining about ph unending traffic and all I wanna say is shut up and drive!*in rihanna’s voice*Declan should thank his chi,remember when I got into their hands in benin oh Lord the fear that ran through me!

  11. Mercury
    February 02, 07:03 Reply

    Ahhhhh, the risk we take for a shag……so sad. Thank goodness Eddie came through.

  12. Dennis Macauley
    February 02, 07:04 Reply

    So satellite town is to lagos what Rukpokwu is to portharcourt?


    • pete
      February 02, 07:14 Reply

      & ogborhill is to Aba

      • Gad
        February 02, 10:53 Reply

        They are everywhere.

    • Mandy
      February 02, 07:22 Reply

      What about Enugu, Owerri and Calabar… any kito capitals in those cities? *asking for my peace of mind*

      • Brian Collins
        February 02, 07:49 Reply

        yes o, orji is the capital for owerri. my first kito experience was there.

        • Gad
          February 02, 15:15 Reply

          You have been kitoed? Please send a mail to Pinky asap

      • Brian Collins
        February 03, 23:38 Reply

        I have shared my second kito story hia na. The one where i lost all my documents. The first one somewhat passed like a breeze, i was quite lucky.

    • Brian Collins
      February 02, 07:47 Reply

      wait o, Dennis, i thought it was elelenwo, then town with ogbunabali following closely.

      • Paul
        February 02, 08:16 Reply

        PH is finished den. @ ds rate- where’s safe?

      • Dennis Macauley
        February 02, 08:19 Reply

        Brian that was then ooo! Rukpokwu has shot right to the top on the kito-meter! The stories I hear from that place makes my blood curl!

        Town is a very distant second (aggrey road to be precise).

      • Lord II
        February 02, 18:27 Reply

        Wait ooo Brian your first??? You’ve had more than one kito experience..?

    • Constant
      February 06, 07:30 Reply

      Eleme aint safe either…….too many kito centers in PH oooo…..smh

  13. Mitch
    February 02, 07:23 Reply

    O.M.G! Declan, the Lord loves your ass! You’d better schedule a proper thanksgiving in church next sunday.

    As for the Jajas of this world, your payment is coming, pretty soon!

    Eddie love, you’s the best! Thanks for saving my fav LASITC character!

    • Deola
      February 02, 08:00 Reply

      Ofcourse Lord loves his ass…

      • Lord II
        February 02, 10:21 Reply

        Della I dey see you with side eye ooooo! Issorait!

      • Deola
        February 02, 12:18 Reply

        Who is this Della you speak of???

      • Lord II
        February 02, 13:26 Reply

        Er..your bottom personna….in my dreams….ok seriously my keypad messed up…my bad.

      • Ace
        February 02, 20:25 Reply

        I can’t with you guys at all! Oh no! Hahahhahahahahaha

  14. xpressivejboy
    February 02, 07:30 Reply

    Lucky DeeCK, so lucky…all thanks to Eddie and the fuel tank.

    • pinkpanthertb
      February 02, 07:42 Reply

      The fuel tank…

      Clever of you, jboy. Most peeps missed the role of the fuel tank in saving Declan

  15. michael
    February 02, 07:31 Reply

    The fear of kito is the beginning of conji.

      • Brian Collins
        February 02, 07:52 Reply

        i tried to reconstruct what he wrote but came up with nothing. Konji was out of context there.

      • Deola
        February 02, 08:01 Reply

        That statement there is a mess… Cant make head or tail of it.

    • Gad
      February 02, 10:56 Reply

      Sure. Especially when one thinks with his ass

  16. Mitch
    February 02, 07:41 Reply

    For Enugu, its Obiagu, Uwani and Abakpa!

    • pinkpanthertb
      February 02, 08:05 Reply

      Three capitals in one city? What are they, autonomous communities?

      • Brian Collins
        February 02, 08:15 Reply

        lol pinky. Eastern states can sabi to have autonomous communities ehn.

  17. Deola
    February 02, 08:07 Reply

    I just know that Kizito has got to be end game…all you Byson’s and all other bitches are just small stops that Declan will make before he gets to his real destination.
    There’s so much chemistry and sexual tension between Declan and Kizito it could boil stone. #TeamKizito

    • pinkpanthertb
      February 02, 08:08 Reply

      Hahahahahahahahahaa, this faith, certainly not like a mustard seed

      • Deola
        February 02, 12:55 Reply

        Lol…Dennis mind yourself or you will get spanked.

  18. Brian Collins
    February 02, 08:13 Reply

    Piinky o, how come Dee had to go through oshodi? not practical at all. What happened to going to orile from ojuelegba and then catching another bus to mile toooo. Quicker route and cheaper too.
    And i am pretty sure Abule-ado and Sat. Town are on the same side of the expressway.
    Declan was sha lucky o.
    And BRYSON? the story just got juicier.

    • Brian Collins
      February 02, 08:18 Reply

      If i decided to join the KD bbm group, i wouldnt be able to keep my pseudonym.

  19. Eros
    February 02, 08:21 Reply

    I am in class now. A room already hot from the mass of bodies. And I am sweating. And shivering. Not from the heat but from the chills I got reading this story. Not everyone is able to escape this sort of thing.

  20. #TeamKizito
    February 02, 08:22 Reply


    Pinky, we are protesting.
    See our placards read:

    “Kizito we want! All others bitches/tops na so-so yeye!”



    • pinkpanthertb
      February 02, 08:23 Reply

      Why hello Kizito, I’ve been expecting you and your placards. 🙂

    • Dennis Macauley
      February 02, 08:29 Reply

      Seeing as I know who Kizito’s character is fashioned after, I will join this street march

      ****carries billboard****



      • Paul
        February 02, 08:39 Reply

        Billboard kwa?

  21. Paul
    February 02, 08:31 Reply

    Declan dem for beat “D” comot from ur name.
    Dat Jaja of Opobo sorry Abule-ado would hv given u some slave trade treatment dt next time wen u hear Ja- u’d not wait for d second syllable b4 u run.
    I remember someone who narrated his kito story to me of same area,they were so wicked dt dey collected his shoes too n d guy had to walk home barefooted.
    He lied to his peeps dat he entered “one-chance” n d mum started asking when did “one-chance” start collecting shoes?
    I jst wish every1 is ds lucky tho.
    Nice read as usual.

  22. Ace
    February 02, 08:33 Reply

    I will read when I wake up. Too tired. Hmmm, odikwa safe to join this bbm group? Lemme go taste my waters on my contact list and seeif I can turn of broadcasting.

  23. Chizzie
    February 02, 11:10 Reply

    we all need that one friend to smack us away from our hormone ridden reverie every now and then. A friend once told me how he’d met an online huk up who also happened to be a police officer, this dude drove my friend to his place of work, u guessed it a- police station! and told him to chill abit that he was going to get something. By sheer providence I called my friend, who was so consumed w lust that he had lost all rational and was even going on on how kinky it would be to do it with a uniformed man, and I was like “bitch better come back to ur senses and get ur horny ass out of there! ”

    safe to say he realized how stupid he was being!

    • Gad
      February 02, 15:20 Reply

      how was that a potential kito incident?

      • Oluwadamilare Okoro
        February 02, 17:19 Reply

        Exactly what I was thinking too… Shey police officer is not allowed to play for our team ni?
        except there were other red flags… I don’t see the kito in that story.

  24. Oluwadamilare Okoro
    February 02, 17:16 Reply


    The flutters… signs from God himself.

    A great read. It was worth the wait since 9am when I opened the page, I could just read. *sigh*

  25. A-non
    February 02, 18:10 Reply

    @Dennis, sent you a mail with regards to our discussion about Jude Dibia’s books.

  26. Ace
    February 02, 20:32 Reply

    I opened this page since 3am and couldn’t read it. It was definitely worth the wait. I could totally relate with the uneasiness of a hook up portrayed. Damn! I was freaking screaming in the little train station cubicle as I read. Almost close to my own near kito experience.

  27. chudiebere
    February 05, 18:17 Reply

    And I use to know one Jaja too some time ago. We almost met but I really didn’t know what happened and we didn’t. Could it be same Jaja???

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